weekendlusting

[weekendlusting]

Set for the weekend 😁✔️ (1, 2)

[weekendlusting]

For me it's how Lando is supposedly this villain and yet people are like "hello sir would you like to join another family?"

[weekendlusting]

Who I Choose - LN

@diya-dln request - so i’m the person that’s never been in a relationship before. usually the guys i like don’t like me, or are talking to me since they are interested in my friends and my friends feel the same. can you write something like this but driver chooses reader

Word count: 2.8k

A life altering moment for y/n was when she watched the movie the DUFF because she realised how heavily the label applied to her. By the time she hit adulthood, she's resided to the fact that her love life would likely be forever dry and she'd likely become a cat lady.

Somehow life did deal her an amazing group of friends who never leave her out and always hype her up even if she feels like it's a hopeless effort.

"Hey, what happened? I thought you were going out tonight?" Laura frowns seeing y/n appearing at her door.

"He cancelled. It felt weird going on a blind date anyway" Y/n smiles trying to mask her pain. She can't help but feel like the man sensed just how desperate her love life is for anyone.

"You were going to miss a good night out anyway. Come on. Let's make use of that amazing outfit. You look so gorgeous." Laura smiles not wanting to allow y/n a moment of y/n feeling low about it. "Plenty of other men to catch the attention of."

Y/n has long since bothered with the effort of trying to inform her friends that she's a lost cause and is just willing to admit the defeat to the fact no man is going to choose her.

-

Y/n had, as expected, found herself feeling quite the odd one out. Her friends have paired off either with men they've met tonight or their boyfriends who tagged along. Either way she finds herself alone and sipping at her drink as she has found herself on many a night out.

"Hey. Good to see I'm not the only one who was left alone." A man states making her look away from the busy dance floor. "I'm Lando. Friends with...half the men that your friends have gone off with."

"Oh right, I thought I recognised you. I'm y/n." Y/n laughs then feeling a little defeated.

Someone who looks like Lando clearly has a girlfriend who just isn't present so he's being friendly enough to just say hi to the fellow odd person out.

"You don't have to look so upset about being left with me. I promise I'm not that bad." Lando states making y/n smile a little as she looks at him again. "Or did you just want to be alone?"

"No. It's not that. I'm just...It's nice that you came over. I'm used to being left to my own devices when everyone pairs off." Y/n explains then shrugging and trying to shake it off but she can't help her wince at how pathetic she's starting to sound.

"So you're single?" Lando asks making y/n actually snort at how ridiculous the question feels from her perspective. "What? What's the little snort over?"

"Oh just if you knew me. You'd know how silly of a question that is."

"Did I miss a ring..." Lando questions making y/n's eyes bulge as he leans to look at her left hand and she tucks it away as if it's embarrassing for him to see how naked her ring finger is.

"No. The opposite. I'm eternally single. It's like a chronic condition." Y/n states while Lando frowns a little at her. "What about you? Surely you have a very loyal and loving girlfriend somewhere. Can't imagine someone like you could be single."

"Work makes it hard." Lando sighs and y/n wrinkles her nose since while she's never had to hear a man say that directly to her before she's heard the stories from her friends. Primarily about finance bros who seem to believe work falls above and before all else and use it as an excuse to let women down time and time again.

Despite the turn of conversation, the two end up talking to each other for the rest of the night until y/n is retrieved like a child from a daycare by her drunk friends who have a "no man left behind" policy on nights out. Although y/n has always found she's the only reason it exists.

"It was nice meeting you." Y/n states making Lando nod.

"You too, I had fun. Not your average night out."

Y/n nods not even sure what that means but she leaves with her friends and doesn't dwell too much on her night as she returns home having heard all the girls relay their evening and how they got some numbers, how they're going to be making the most of the whole thing. Y/n sort of tuned their plans with the men they spent the night with out. As much as she loves her friends, she knows that hearing about their sex lives and love lives does trigger some mild jealousy because her life just doesn't work out like that.

It's not their fault, but some days it's a harder pill to swallow that she'll probably be alone.

Especially when someone like Lando is actually nice to her. Somehow it's easier to accept being single when men are just assholes. Nobody wants to date an asshole who treats them badly. But when a guy is nice and friendly, that's when it's harder to accept when she has to remind herself that he's just being nice. He's not interested in dating her, he just had limited other options and noticed she was alone so made conversation.

-

"Y/n! You won't believe it. That guy, the guy you were talking to the other night. What his name? Ally what the fuck is his name?" Laura gasps actually having broken into y/n's apartment on a Saturday morning at 6:30.

"Lando Norris." Ally states brightly while y/n groans digging her head under the pillow.

"Yes. Lando Norris has sent us tickets over to Italy! Italy y/n! Free hotels, free flight, free everything! And that includes you. We're going to see the race."

"Race? What race?" Y/n mumbles from underneath her pillow.

"Formula 1. Don't you realise you were talking to a millionaire race driver. Now get out of bed. The flight is in 4 hours." Laura laughs pushing y/n out of the bed making her land with a thud.

"I hardly even remember talking to him." Y/n grumbles as she looks up at the two and Ally offers her hands to pull her up. "I was drinking that night."

It's lies, she remembers every detail. Not only of the night, but of Lando. Not that she was aware he was a F1 driver, because in all honesty she avoided allowing herself to stalk him online and get over excited about it.

"Why has he invited us?"

"Do you always ask questions when good luck falls into your lap? Who cares. We get to go befriend millionaires. Maybe a sugar daddy is finally going to be on my agenda...Is Fernando Alonso still single? I feel like Lewis Hamilton has commitment issues but I could easily be seduced by a Spaniard." Laura states thinking out loud while y/n and Ally look at her in disbelief.

-

It was a surreal experience getting business class over to Italy and then getting to the track. Laura did as much research as possible and learned that it's the Imola race. It has a longer name but apparently no one calls it that. The rest of the group were eagerly getting themselves to the paddock club seating.

Y/n is happily sitting just waiting to see what the hell happens on an F1 weekend on a Saturday and she is enjoying the whole thing a lot despite having no concept of what qualifying means, why it happens 3 times with less people every time. But it's fun to watch with everyone else getting excited.

But eventually they do leave and y/n sighs returning to her hotel room in the Hilton, moving to just collapse onto her bed. But she doesn't get much chance to do anything more than that before there's a knock on her door making her frown but assume it's her friends coming in for a debrief of the day.

Laura did manage to spark up conversation with Fernando, somehow, y/n is still trying to figure out how the hell she did that. Not that she bagged the older man but she definitely tried and credit has to be given for that much.

"Hey, y/n." Lando greets making y/n jump a little, completely caught off guard.

They hadn't seen Lando the whole day and y/n just assumed he's working so they'd not see him at all.

"Lando?" Y/n mumbles then leaning out the door to look for some others. "Is...everything ok?"

"Yeah, thought I'd drop by see if you wanted to grab something to eat."

"Oh...yeah, I could eat. Is everyone else already there?"

"No. Just you and me." Lando smiles making y/n raise an eyebrow feeling her subconscious act stupidly trying to raise her hopes for a bad to have an interest. "We can invite them if you'd rather though."

"I'm pretty sure they've all gone out on dates to enjoy the free tip to Italy. So we can have a singles meal." Y/n smiles before she moves back while Lando looks like he's got something to say on that but bites it back quickly when she walks back inside. "Let me just grab my stuff."

"No problem."

And that's how y/n ends up at dinner with Lando.

"Should you not be getting a good night of a sleep before you race tomorrow? I might not know much about Formula 1 but I know every athlete is meant to be well rested before they compete."

"I have plenty of time for that." Lando shrugs while y/n smiles a little at him. "So you're not a fan of the sport before now?"

"No. I...didn't even know who you were-are-but in my defence I didn't think you'd like my friends so much you'd invite us all to a race a week later." Y/n confesses and Lando doesn't miss her choice of wording.

"Well I didn't really get to know your friends."

"They're great people. Though if you want to get to know them more you might have to invite them to dinner." Y/n laughs while Lando frowns not being able to ignore it this time.

"Y/n, I invited you all because I wanted more time with you." Lando states and he could've sworn he's never felt the temperature between two people drop so suddenly. Her whole mood visibly drops with he smile disappearing in an instant and she almost takes a grey tinge. "Everything ok?"

"I don't really get it..." Y/n mumbles then feeling the fight or flight finally kick in. "Will you excuse me? I'll be right back-lady's room."

"Are-Yeah, yeah. Sure take your time." Lando frowns about to question her but clearly something happened as a result of him admitting her wanted to spend time with her.

Nearly 10 minutes pass before a waitress appears.

"Sorry, y/n asked me to tell you she's just out for some air."

"Thank you. Is she just out front?" Lando asks deciding he's more than willing to chase the woman if that's what he needs to do. After all he literally got her here for the purpose of wanting to get closer to her.

He moves out searching before he finds her leaning against the building off to the side from the entrance.

"Hey, are you feeling alright? Looked like you got spooked in there?" Lando comments trying to keep it light-hearted but y/n looks at him almost with a helpless expression. "Did I say something?"

"Guys don't choose me, Lando. I'm the friend, I'm tolerated by men and befriended as a result of their interested in my friends. But I'm single for a reason and the universe has made it clear that I'm meant to live and die alone and I've accepted that so you can't come in and mess up that...fate." Y/n states hating how cringy she sounds about everything she says.

It definitely sounds worse out loud than it does in her head and the expression of Lando trying to not to laugh immediately makes her groan.

"I don't expect you to understand. I saw how many fans you have here. You're hardly a man who has to do the chasing."

"Really? Because I just chased you out here and you can tell me about how blind and stupid other guys have been towards you but that doesn't mean I'm going to be like that. I invited you to dinner because I want to speak to you again. I had a good time when we met because of you and I came up to you because you seemed nice and gorgeous and then we talked and I could've spent the rest of the night talking if your friends didn't interrupt."

Y/n actually feels like this is some sort of cruel joke, like he's going to kiss her and then say "sike" as if they're in some sort of cheesy American teen romcom.

"You can say no...but I want to take you on dates. I was drawn to you from the moment I saw you and it might be a dick thing to say, but I'm glad I'm not fighting other guys for your attention because I don't want you to date other guys and it might be too much, too soon to say that but that's how I feel and I'm saying it so you understand."

"You might change your mind when you know me better."

"I might...but I might not. I think there's a higher chance of might not. But if you want to completely eliminate risk of that then you can tell me to leave you alone."

There's a loud vicious voice screaming at her to do exactly that. To eliminate the risk of being hurt and ending up completely devastated because after years of rejection and hurt and acceptance over how alone she'll be. The fear of feeling love only for Lando to change his mind later is enough for her stomach to churn.

"But you could give me a chance and you won't regret it." Lando offers making her swallow, yanked back from her aggressive thoughts as Lando looks at her for a moment. "I'm not that evil."

-

It took a couple months, a lot of travelling, amazing dates, hours of talking, flowers, weekend trips, countless facetimes and some pretty incredible sex. But eventually y/n began to accept that Lando really is the real thing.

She feels like she might've really found her person and she's...so happy.

She's never felt the type of love towards or received from someone else and it almost feels all consuming. The fear she had is long forgotten and the rejection she felt for years has faded away. It lingers, sometimes it rears it's ugly head and y/n feels herself panic a little but Lando reassures her without trying and settles any nerves that she has without being aware she has them.

"For you." Lando states casually presenting her with some red roses. "Happy 3 months."

"You are the only man on the planet to celebrate 3 months. You know that?" Y/n laughs as Lando moves behind her hugging her tightly as he kisses her cheek and lifts her up.

"I love you and you deserve flowers anyway, but this way I have an excuse too."

"Well thank you...they're amazing...like you."

"Gotta make sure you always know how I feel." Lando shrugs then sighing. "And we are going out, golf first and then we'll go to a restaurant like I know you actually want to."

"I like watching you golf, I just don't like failing so badly when I attempt too participate."

"Yeah, but you make me look good." Lando jokes then feeling her elbow dig back into her. "I deserved that. However, I also deserve a shower to get ready with my girlfriend for golf and our anniversary plans. So...put the flowers down, they can be taken care of later."

Y/n laughs as places the flowers down and then gets tossed up over his shoulder, she knew it was coming but she still scolds him for the action playfully only to receive a smack on the ass while Lando laughs getting them into the bathroom where he once again proves just how happy he is to ravish the woman he had to do some fighting for but he got her and that's what matters.

[weekendlusting]

Meeow.. 🫠🫠🔥

[weekendlusting]

PEDRO PASCAL with Chris Evans and Dakota Johnson doing press for ‘Materialists’

[weekendlusting]

alex albon the man that you are

[weekendlusting]

When tumblr refreshes itself and the fic I was reading fucking disappears forever 💔

I’ve been searching for a smau I was reading for three days 😔

[weekendlusting]

max has been trying to tell everyone who is willing to listen that the issue is not the drivers but the fuckin car

he was vocal last year when everyone, including the team itself was shitting on checo every weekend

he is apparently also now being vocal with the team that sacking liam is not the solution, fixing the car itself is

but for whatever fuckin reason rbr refuses to listen to max and i genuinely can not figure out why

[weekendlusting]

No Boys Club | Dad! Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris has a very public freak out when his daughter comes home with flowers from a boy.

Warnings: fluff, pregnancy, overprotective dad behaviour 

Requested: yes by anon. i made them about 5 instead of 3 because the pictures i found are a bit older

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

landonorris just posted

liked by danielricciardo, alex_albon and others 

landonorris someone tell this little lady to stop growing up

189,856 comments 

carlossainz55 wait, what happened to the little baby you used to swing around the paddock? who allowed this to happen?

→ landonorris don’t get me started. i keep telling y/n to figure out how to make it stop 

georgerussell63 still have no idea how you ended up with such a cute, calm kid

→ its_yn that was all me

→ landonorris hey, i contributed 

→ maxfewtrell for like two seconds liked by its_yn

→ landonorris you take that back! 

user1 i love how every pic of little norris with y/n is really cute and serene but any time we see her with just lando, it’s chaos 

→ user2 she matches each parent’s energy perfectly 

maxverstappen1 i might need you to teach me how to do hair bows 

→ landonorris bring P over, we’ll have a hair afternoon

→ user3 i love girl dad lando so much 

→ its_yn me too 

oscarpiastri were the hair bows y/n’s choice?

→ its_yn nope. lando made a whole drawer just for her hair bows, and he picks them out the night before so i have to plan her outfits around them 

→ mclaren guess who’s telling the design team to start making hair bows asap 

its_yn posted a new story

alex_albon replied you didn’t put a bow in her hair today? → lando is going to freak → its_yn he’s too busy freaking out about his little girl getting flowers off a boy  → alex_albon i know 😂 he was in the middle of the paddock having a fit  → i’m sure you’ll see gifs of it later on twitter 

alexandrasaintmleux replied of course they were orange flowers  → its_yn setting me up for a lifetime of orange → alexandrasaintmleux at least little norris’ new boyfriend has taste  → its_yn reacted with “😂”

charles_leclerc replied has lando seen this yet? → never mind. i’ve just heard a high-pitched screech come from the mclaren garage  → i’d like to thank you for sabotaging lando in this way, so ferrari can get ahead in the constructors  → its_yn forza ferrari sempre → just don’t publicly thank me 

landonorris posted a new story

carlossainz55 replied why are you threatening children  → landonorris because they’re trying to take my baby away from me → carlossainz55 how you managed to get a woman pregnant, i will never know 

maxverstappen1 replied do you want me to help you beat up a child?  → landonorris thank you. you’re the only one understanding my crash out  → maxverstappen1 i don’t think that’s the defence you think it is 

its_yn replied baby, you can not attack a child → landonorris why not → its_yn well, for one, you’re on the other side of the world → landonorris hence why i’m learning how to teleport!  → i thought we understood each other → its_yn i thought i understood how insane you are → but every day you show me new levels of crazy 

its_yn just posted

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55 and others 

its_yn when dad’s away 

76,334 comments 

landonorris wtaf, babe

landonorris when i told you to take care of my girls, that meant keeping the both of you away from the male species 

landonorris can’t believe this is what you do when i go away for a race 

landonorris this is why i didn’t want to go 

landonorris gonna throw myself in front of max’s car

→ maxverstappen1 i’m not cleaning you off my visor  

user4 i can’t tell if it’s the style but yn’s top seems to stick out a bit 👀

→ user5 ugh. don't be one of those people

mclaren we’ve seen enough. little norris can have lando’s seat next year 

→ its_yn so i can listen to him whine about that? no thanks 

charles_leclerc i hear the italian anthem calling me

→ its_yn shhhh. we had a deal 

landonorris i’m actually going to end it all

→ its_yn i gave you a baby. what more do you want 

→ landonorris for my baby to never look at another man

→ its_yn i’m leaving you 

→ landonorris i’d like to see you try. you won’t run very far 

maxfewtrell it’s nice to see she didn’t inherit her father’s talent. she smoked me

→ landonorris is my suffering a joke to you? have i not been punished enough?

→ maxfewtrell yes

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests open

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury  @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25 @sillyfreakfanparty @justaf1girl @piastri-fvx

[weekendlusting]

drive to survive bf moments | lando norris

୨ৎ : featuring : boyfriend!lando x reader ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested or not) : compilation of boyfriend lando moments if you were in dts with him <3

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : in honor of lando p1 !!!! so proud <3

boyfriend!lando who is constantly caught on camera teasing you in the paddock.

boyfriend!lando who is tugging at your sleeve during interviews, poking your cheek mid-media session, or making funny faces at you when you’re trying to be serious.

boyfriend!lando who unknowingly starts a viral soft launch fail when dts cameras catch him absentmindedly fixing your hair in the background of an interview. the internet explodes when he casually kisses your temple without realizing the cameras are rolling.

boyfriend!lando who panics live on dts when he nearly crashes during a race, caught muttering under his breath like a stressed-out boyfriend while you watch from the mclaren garage.

boyfriend!lando who hijacks your dts interview by walking by and loudly whispering, “tell them i’m your favorite driver.”

boyfriend!lando who grins like an idiot when you deadpan into the camera, refusing to answer.

boyfriend!lando who is oblivious to the cameras when he wraps his arm around you after a race.

boyfriend!lando who is holding you close while talking to his engineers. it only hits him later when twitter is flooded with screenshots.

boyfriend!lando who sends you ugly selfies while away, which dts editors unfortunately include in a montage of “how lando spends his free time.” one clip is just a zoomed-in picture of his forehead.

boyfriend!lando who is too proud when you wear his #4 merch, caught pointing you out in the crowd during fan interactions.

boyfriend!lando saying, “that’s my good luck charm right there.” everytime he sees you in the crowd. the netflix editors make it ten times funnier by cutting to oscar rolling his eyes.

boyfriend!lando who collapses onto you after an exhausting race, full weight, head buried in your chest, groaning dramatically for the cameras.

boyfriend!lando who says, “i’m dead. you have to carry me home.”

boyfriend!lando who gets called out by dts producers for always whispering to you during serious team meetings. the subtitles just read: [unintelligible flirting] while zak brown sighs in the background.

boyfriend!lando who, when asked in an interview who his biggest supporter is, glances at you off-camera and grins softly before answering, “i think you already know.”

boyfriend!lando who laughs nervously when dts confronts him in a confessional, playing a supercut of every single moment he’s been caught staring at you. “alright, alright, i get it. i like them, okay?!”

boyfriend!lando who, despite all the teasing, all the joking, and all the chaos, is caught in a rare, unguarded moment...dts cameras filming him looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[weekendlusting]

A TALE OF FAME

pairing ꪆৎ charles leclerc x ahaana patel ᥫ᭡. f1 driver x bollywood actress au

chapter ꪆৎ 6

summary ꪆৎ she's everything, and he just drives.

note ꪆৎ no hate to any characters used in the story, none of what i write reflects on how they actually are. all my love, happy reading.

characteraesthetics | socials&intro | one | two | three | four | five | six |

────୨ৎ────

Monaco, 3:47 AM

The city that never truly slept had fallen into an eerie stillness, a hush settling over the winding streets of Monte Carlo as if the world itself had exhaled after holding its breath for too long. The neon lights flickered faintly against the rain-slicked pavement, the ocean beyond whispering secrets only the waves could understand, and yet, Charles Leclerc felt none of it.

The usual hum of the world—the comforting rhythm of engines revving in the distance, the quiet murmur of conversations slipping from late-night bars, the occasional hum of an expensive car rolling down the empty streets—felt muted, as though reality had blurred at the edges, leaving him stranded in the echo of something unfinished.

His hands remained deep in the pockets of his hoodie, fingers curled into tense fists as he walked with no real destination, feet carrying him away from the alleyway where he had kissed her, where she had let him in—just for a moment—before she had torn herself away like it meant nothing at all.

He had tasted hesitation on her lips, felt the unspoken weight in the way her body had leaned into his before she pulled back, seen the ghost of something in her eyes that had almost convinced him she didn’t want to leave. And yet, she had still walked away. She had still chosen distance over whatever this was, still left him standing there, heart pounding in his throat as she disappeared into the night like a passing storm—fierce, consuming, and gone before he could hold onto her.

It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did.

He barely knew her.

That was the part he kept telling himself, the rational voice that tried to shove sense back into his head, reminding him that she wasn’t some great love story, not some part of him that had been missing. She was just a woman.

Just Ahaana Patel—brilliant and impossible, sharp edges softened only by rare flickers of something she didn’t let the world see. Just a Bollywood starlet with secrets tucked so deep inside her that they had turned her into a fortress, someone who smiled and bantered and let the world believe she was invincible while something haunted lived behind her eyes.

Just someone he had met by chance, by accident.

And yet, somehow, she had burrowed into his mind like she belonged there.

Charles exhaled harshly, jaw clenching as he stopped at the edge of the waterfront, gaze fixed on the endless stretch of dark waves. The sea had always been an anchor for him, something that steadied his thoughts when they threatened to spiral, but tonight, it felt restless, shifting beneath the glow of the moon, reflecting back at him the same frustration tightening in his chest.

She was gone.

And she hadn’t looked back.

The realization twisted something in his gut, the kind of unsettled feeling he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before—not like this, not this sharp, not this visceral. He wasn’t the type to dwell on what he couldn’t control, but this—**her—**felt like something he should have fought harder for, like something that should have meant more than just a passing moment.

And yet, what had he done?

Nothing.

He had let her leave, let her convince herself that whatever had happened between them was something insignificant, something that didn’t deserve a place in her life.

And for the first time in a long time, Charles felt like he had lost something he didn’t even know he needed.

Mumbai, 8:55 AM

The makeup room smelled of rosewater toner, setting powder, and the faint bitterness of coffee left untouched for too long. The bulbs lining the mirror cast a golden glow, painting everything in warm, honeyed light, but the illusion of comfort was just that—an illusion. The space felt hollow, filled only by the steady hum of the AC and the quiet rasp of Ahaana’s own breathing.

She sat in front of the vanity, staring at her own reflection as if she were looking at a stranger. The woman in the mirror looked like her—same dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, same sharp jawline softened by the gentle curve of her lips, same kohl-lined eyes that had learned long ago how to mask what they weren’t supposed to reveal. And yet, something was missing. Something felt wrong.

Her fingers curled into her lap, nails pressing crescent moons into the flesh of her palm, but the sting wasn’t enough to ground her.

She had spent the entire flight back to Mumbai convincing herself that she had done the right thing. That walking away from Charles was what was best. That she couldn’t afford another mistake, another misstep that could drag someone else into the wreckage of her past.

And yet, no matter how many times she repeated it to herself, the weight in her chest hadn’t lifted. If anything, it had only grown heavier, settling beneath her ribcage, curling around her lungs like a vice that made it impossible to take a full breath.

He had kissed her like he wanted to unravel her.

Like he had already seen through the walls she had built around herself, like he knew exactly what she was trying to run from and was daring her to stop.

And she had let him.

For a moment, she had let herself forget—let herself feel the warmth of his hands on her skin, the way he had held her like she was something precious rather than something broken, the way he had looked at her, as if he wanted to memorize every detail before she could slip away.

And then she had remembered.

She had remembered who she was.

What she carried.

What would happen if his name ever became tangled with hers.

Ahaana let out a slow, shuddering breath, forcing herself to shake off the memory before it swallowed her whole. Her gaze flickered to the half-finished coffee on the table, to the neatly stacked script pages she had yet to go through, to the soundless buzz of her phone lighting up with messages she wasn’t ready to read.

She was here, back in Mumbai, back in the industry she had fought so hard to reclaim, back in the world where she had once been powerful, untouchable—before she had seen too much, before the truth had nearly cost her everything.

The room had not changed. The air was still heavy with the scent of rosewater and setting powder, the bulbs around the mirror still cast their artificial glow, their warmth trying to convince her that everything was fine.

The untouched coffee beside her remained a stagnant pool of bitterness, its surface undisturbed, the steam long since faded. Nothing in this space had shifted, not the arrangement of brushes meticulously laid out before her, not the faint hum of conversation filtering in from beyond the closed door. Nothing—except her.

Ahaana sat motionless, hands gripping the edges of the vanity as if it were the only thing tethering her to the present. The tension in her jaw was sharp, the tightness in her chest suffocating, and no matter how many times she blinked, the image in the mirror refused to align with who she was supposed to be. Her reflection felt foreign, like something sculpted rather than real, a carefully curated illusion bathed in soft lighting.

Her stomach twisted, a slow, sinking feeling crawling up her spine. It was happening again. The pull. The unraveling. The ghosts creeping in through the cracks.

She had spent so long convincing herself that it was behind her, that she had left it in the past, that it no longer had its claws in her. But monsters do not live in the past. They live in the quiet moments, in the space between breaths, in the solitude of a makeup room where no one is watching. They wait for the silence, for the stillness, for the precise moment when there is nowhere left to run.

And then—just like that—the past was no longer the past.

FLASH.

The hallway had been dimly lit, the golden sconces casting flickering shadows along the polished floors, stretching long and thin, curling against the walls like unseen eyes watching her move. The door at the end of the corridor had been left ajar, just enough for the faintest sliver of light to bleed through, a subtle invitation, a whispered warning.

She should have left. She should have turned back. Every instinct had screamed at her to do so, had coiled tight in her chest, urging her to walk away, to pretend she had never stepped foot in this place. But curiosity had always been a dangerous thing, and before she could talk herself out of it, she was already inside.

The air hit her first. The thick, unmistakable scent of aged whiskey, its sharpness mixing with the tang of burning tobacco and something else—something more illicit. It soaked into the furniture, into the expensive carpet, into the very foundation of this place. The room itself was an exhibition of quiet, unassuming luxury.

Polished mahogany, gold-trimmed glasses resting on the bar, a decanter half-emptied beside them. Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling, exhaled from cigarettes perched between fingers that had never known desperation.

And then, at the center of it all—him.

Reclined against the deep leather couch, legs spread apart in an easy sprawl, one arm resting lazily over the backrest, his fingers poised around the cigarette in his hand.

His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to hint at the sharp cut of his collarbone, the sleeves of his tailored suit pushed back slightly, revealing the gleam of an expensive watch against his wrist. He looked effortlessly composed, a man who never felt out of control. A man who owned every space he stepped into.

She had walked in on something she was never meant to see.

The stacks of cash sat in neat piles along the coffee table, crisp and untouched, half-counted but never hidden. A fine dusting of white powder clung to the glass, its presence as casual as the low murmurs of conversation filtering in from the other side of the room. The men in pressed suits did not stop speaking. The transaction did not pause.

Her presence had not disrupted the world moving around her, because in this room, in his world—she did not matter. Not yet.

And then—he looked up.

His gaze met hers, sharp and assessing, but void of any real surprise. His cigarette lingered at his lips, the ember burning faintly in the dim light as he took another slow drag before exhaling, the smoke curling around him in delicate tendrils. He let the silence stretch between them, unbothered, amused, as if he had been expecting her all along.

"You shouldn’t be here."

The words were smooth, casual, as if they carried no real weight. But the way his eyes held hers, the way the men around him didn’t react, didn’t even acknowledge her presence, made it clear—this wasn’t a suggestion. It wasn’t even a warning. It was a fact. A truth that had already been decided for her.

She had swallowed, her pulse hammering against her ribs, the sharp edge of fear sinking its claws into her throat.

This wasn’t indulgence.

This wasn’t just wealth.

This was something else.

Something irreversible.

And she had just stepped right into it.

Ahaana sucked in a breath too fast, too shallow, her body jolting as if she had just resurfaced from deep water, lungs desperate for air. Her nails dug into the smooth wood of the vanity, grounding herself in the present, reminding herself of where she was. But the echoes of the past still lingered, wrapping around her ribs, refusing to let go.

She squeezed her eyes shut, breathe, just breathe, but the memory was still right there.

FLASH.

The glass had shattered against the floor, the whiskey spilling in slow-moving rivers, soaking into the Persian rug beneath his feet. The sound had sliced through the heavy silence, a sharp contrast to the otherwise measured stillness of the space.

She had flinched.

He had not.

He only watched.

Unblinking. Unmoved. Unbothered.

Then—he stood.

She barely had time to take a step back before he was in front of her, his presence filling every inch of the space between them. His fingers found her chin, tilting her face up, forcing her to look at him, his touch deceptively soft, his lips curling into something that wasn’t a smile.

"You saw something you weren’t supposed to see, jaan."

The endearment dripped from his tongue like silk, smooth and practiced, but it was a lie. He was not speaking to her like a lover. He was speaking to her like something to be handled.

She tried to speak, to deny, to lie, but his thumb brushed against her lower lip before she could, silencing her before the words had a chance to form. His touch was light, calculated, a quiet reminder that control was no longer hers to claim.

"You think you can just walk away from this?" His voice was velvet and venom, each syllable wrapping around her like a noose. And then, lower, quieter, final—

"I’m going to ruin you."

A sharp knock at the door sent a jolt through her chest.

"Ahaana!"

Karan Johar’s voice, warm and familiar, real, cut through the suffocating weight of the memory, pulling her back.

"You’re not dead in there, are you? Vedang is already on set, and Vasan is running out of patience. Move it, superstar!"

Ahaana exhaled, her fingers still trembling, the weight in her chest still heavy. The past had tried to pull her under, but she had clawed her way back to the surface. By the time she reached for the door handle, the ghosts had been locked away, hidden behind the mask the world had never seen slip.

Ahaana Patel—the woman the world knew, the one who did not break—had returned.

And she was ready to pretend again.

────୨ৎ────

ᝰ.ᐟ sixth part! hope you guys like it!

so sorry for the wait, but ive been dealing with some health issues and slightly difficult for me to update. so thankful to anyone who reads this, i love you <3

next

────୨ৎ────

tags @seonghwaexile @bookishprophecy @justadesirebel @peterholland04 @bakingpiastries @ricciardosheart @mikefaistgf @sp1rl @charlesgirl16 @leila-030304 @uhcalli @blahblechblah @phobiccneel @blushmimi

comment to be added to taglist

────୨ৎ────

© weekendlusting

────୨ৎ────

[weekendlusting]

i promiseeee im gonna update soon you guys, just dealing with some health issues <3 it makes my day seeing likes and comments on atof, cant wait to write charles and ahaana again !!

[weekendlusting]

A TALE OF FAME

pairing ꪆৎ charles leclerc x ahaana patel ᥫ᭡. f1 driver x bollywood actress au

chapter ꪆৎ 5

summary ꪆৎ she's everything, and he just drives.

note ꪆৎ no hate to any characters used in the story, none of what i write reflects on how they actually are. all my love, happy reading.

characteraesthetics | socials&intro | one | two | three | four | five | six |

The morning after the storm was oddly serene, as if the universe was trying to compensate for the chaos of the previous night. The streets of Monaco glistened with the remnants of rain, and the salty scent of the sea mixed with the crisp morning air. The sky was a soft, pale blue, clouds lazily drifting by, oblivious to the storm they had thrown at Charles and Ahaana only hours before.

Inside Charles’s apartment, the atmosphere was far from peaceful.

Ahaana groaned as she turned onto her side, the oversized shirt she had borrowed from Charles tangling around her legs. Her hair was an absolute mess, strands sticking up in ways that defied physics. As she stretched, her foot hit something solid.

"Ow!" Charles’s voice grumbled from the floor beside her.

Her eyes flew open. "Why the hell are you on the floor?"

Charles lifted his head, looking thoroughly disgruntled. "Because someone stole the entire bed," he muttered, rubbing his side.

Ahaana blinked and sat up, glancing at the bed—a king-size, might she add—where she was sprawled diagonally, using up every inch of available space. She cleared her throat. "I don’t remember that happening."

"Oh, you wouldn’t," Charles deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "You were too busy starfishing and kicking me in your sleep."

She bit her lip, suppressing a smile. "I do not starf—"

"You do," he cut in, stretching his arms above his head. "I have the bruises to prove it."

Ahaana rolled her eyes, throwing a pillow at his face. "Well this is your fault for not having a guest bedroom. What were you thinking?"

He caught the pillow with ease, smirking. "Keeps the women closer, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not ready for this so early." Ahaana huffed and dramatically threw herself back onto the bed, arms spread wide. "Well, whatever. It’s morning now. Crisis averted. We survived."

"Barely," Charles muttered under his breath, earning another pillow thrown his way.

By the time they were both up and moving, the awkwardness of the previous night’s almost-kiss had settled into something unspoken but still lingering between them, like an unfinished conversation waiting for the right moment to resume.

Ahaana busied herself in the kitchen, making coffee as Charles scrolled through his phone. The scent of fresh espresso filled the apartment, making the place feel warmer than it actually was. The whole routine felt strangely domestic and mundane.

"You’re awfully quiet," Charles noted, setting his phone down and watching her. "Plotting world domination?"

She shot him a look. "Just thinking." 

"Dangerous," he murmured, taking a seat at the counter. "Shut up," she said, rolling her eyes but unable to suppress a small smile. She handed him a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, sipping her own. "So… last night was—"

"Eventful?" Charles supplied.

"I was going to say weird, but sure, let’s go with eventful."

He smirked. "We almost kissed." Ahaana choked on her coffee. "Charles!" 

"What? Am I not supposed to mention it?"

"No!"

"Too bad," he said with a shrug, his smirk widening. "It was a moment. A near, very charged, very dramatic moment." She groaned, rubbing her temples. "I hate you."

"No, you don’t." She sighed. "Unfortunately, you might be right."

Charles chuckled, leaning closer. "So, are we going to pretend it didn’t happen, or are we acknowledging it?" Ahaana pursed her lips, considering. "I vote for the mature, adult thing where we pretend it never happened and move on."

Charles made a face. "Boring." She smacked his arm. "Fine. What do you want to do?" He pretended to think. "We could analyze every second of it and make things sufficiently awkward."

She shot him a glare. "Charles."

"Or… we could do neither and just accept that there’s something happening here."

Her stomach did a little flip, but she forced herself to keep a straight face. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

He tilted his head, giving her a knowing look. "Sure you don’t." Ahaana sighed, setting her cup down. "You’re impossible."

"And you like it," he teased, taking a sip of his coffee. "Now, are we getting breakfast, or are we going to keep avoiding the obvious?"

She groaned. "Fine. Breakfast. Let’s go."

"Great choice. And just so you know, I’m not done with this conversation."

Ahaana pointed a finger at him as they grabbed their jackets. "If you don’t shut up, I’m shoving you into traffic."

Charles laughed. "So much hostility first thing in the morning. I’m honored."

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. Whatever this was between them—it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The streets of Monaco were still damp from the storm, but the sun was beginning to warm them, glinting off the wet pavement like scattered diamonds. Ahaana and Charles walked side by side, a comfortable but charged silence stretching between them.

"Where exactly are we going?" Ahaana asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she matched his pace.

"Somewhere that serves food," Charles replied easily, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Charles led them to a small café tucked into a quiet street corner. It was one of those places that looked effortlessly charming—warm wooden interiors, tiny round tables, the kind of place where people wrote poetry about their heartbreak over croissants.

He leaned in slightly. "I come here a lot. They have the best pain au chocolat in all of Monaco."

She rolled her eyes. "That’s for me to decide, Ferrari.”

Charles chuckled, “Prepare to be amazed”, as they grabbed a table by the window.

The café was buzzing with soft chatter, the smell of fresh coffee weaving through the air. Ahaana shrugged off her jacket, settling into her seat as Charles waved over a waitress.

"Bonjour, Charles," the waitress greeted with an easy familiarity before glancing at Ahaana with a polite smile.

Ahaana raised an eyebrow at him. He did come here a lot it seemed.

The waitress took their orders—Charles, predictably, ordered a pain au chocolat and an espresso, while Ahaana opted for another pain au chocolat and a cappuccino.

"So," Charles started once the waitress walked away, drumming his fingers against the wooden table. "Are we acknowledging the obvious today, or is it another day of blissful denial?"

Ahaana sighed heavily. "Charles."

"What?" His tone was infuriatingly casual. "I just think it’s interesting that you seem so intent on avoiding—"

"I am not avoiding anything," she cut in, folding her arms. "I just think that some things don’t need to be dissected to death."

He tilted his head, studying her. "I agree. But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist."

Ahaana busied herself by adjusting the sugar packet in front of her. "Okay, philosopher. What exactly do you want me to say?"

Charles leaned back, that irritatingly knowing smirk playing at his lips. "I don’t know. Maybe something like—‘Charles, you are the most devastatingly handsome man I’ve ever met, and I am helplessly drawn to you.’"

She deadpanned. "I’m going to throw my croissant at you when it comes."

"Bold of you to assume I won’t catch it midair and eat it."

Their food arrived, and the moment evaporated as quickly as it had come. Charles grinned, immediately reaching for his pastry. "Ah, the true love of my life."

The moment Charles took his first bite of the pain au chocolat, his eyes fluttered shut like he was experiencing something spiritual.

Ahaana watched, unimpressed. "You look like you're having an out-of-body experience. Should I leave you two alone?"

Charles opened one eye. "Jealousy is not a good look on you."

She scoffed. "Of what? A pastry?"

"A perfect pastry." He took another exaggerated bite. "Flaky, buttery, perfection incarnate. Unlike some people I know."

Ahaana picked up her', narrowed her eyes, and took a bite just as exaggerated as his, chewing deliberately.

"Life-changing?" Charles smirked.

She wiped her lips with a napkin. "You can’t tell after just one bite."

Charles leaned back, laughing. "Such ego. Are all bollywood people like this?"

Ahaana smirked back at him,"I'm not a guide, you should come and see for yourself?"

The bell above the cafe door jingled, and a familiar voice rang through the air. "Look who it is! Monaco's very own lovebirds."

Ahaana turned in time to see Lando Norris striding toward them, grinning like he had just caught them committing a crime. Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet followed, Kelly rolling her eyes at Lando’s dramatics while Max just looked amused.

Charles groaned. "Oh, fantastic. I was hoping for some unsolicited commentary this morning."

Lando plopped into the seat beside Charles without an invitation. "And here I am, delivering."

Max slid into the seat next to Ahaana, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Morning, Ahaana. How was your night?"

Ahaana threw a pointed look at Charles. “What did you say?”

Charles acted completely obvious and hid his face behind his croissant. “The groupchat needs updates, you know.” 

“Ugh” Ahaana shook her head. “They aren’t going to forget about this for a while now you know that.”

Lando snorted. "The candles, Charles? Very romantic, mate. I can see why Ahaana is smitten." Ahaana nearly choked on her coffee. "I’m what now?"

"Smitten." Lando wiggled his eyebrows. "You know, falling hopelessly in love, unable to resist his charm—"

Charles leaned forward. "Lando, if you want to keep your front teeth, I’d recommend shutting up."

Lando pretended to consider. "Mmm…nah."

Their food arrived, and the conversation shifted as they ate, though the teasing never truly stopped. Lando nudged Charles at one point. "So, when’s the wedding?"

Charles shot him a glare. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Oh, constantly," Lando replied with a grin.  Kelly rolled her eyes. "Lando, must you?"

"Must I? Absolutely. It’s my duty as an agent of chaos." Max shook his head. "I regret sitting here."

"No, you don’t," Lando countered. "This is the highlight of your morning."

Ahaana rubbed her temples. "You are all exhausting."

Ahaana fought the smile threatening to break through. Whatever this was between them—whatever name it had or didn’t have—it wasn’t going anywhere. And, as infuriating as Charles was, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted it to.

Ahaana’s phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a name she wasn’t expecting to see for another two weeks. She frowned, picking it up. "It’s Karan."

"Hey, what’s up?"

On the other end, Karan Johar’s voice was rushed, urgent. "Change of plans. The schedule’s been moved up. You need to fly out for the Jigra shoot in three days."

Ahaana blinked. "Three days? But I was supposed to have two more weeks!"

"I know, but there were some production changes. Vedang has also been informed. We need you here ASAP. We can’t start without you. Something about permission with the set location."

She ran a hand through her hair, glancing at Charles, who had straightened up in his seat, his expression unreadable. "Okay, okay," she exhaled. "Send me the details. I’ll book my flight."

"Already done," Karan said. "Check your email. See you soon."

The call ended, and Ahaana let her phone drop onto the table with a thud. "Well. That happened."

Charles’s jaw was tight. "You’re leaving." She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Yeah. In three days."

Charles didn’t say anything.

Not at first.

He just stood there, slight discomfort thrumming under his skin like an overworked engine, his hands shoved so deep into his pockets they might as well have been glued there. His jaw was locked, shoulders rigid, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on him.

He didn’t understand why he was so—affected. Why his chest felt too tight. Why was his head buzzing with thoughts he didn’t want to have.

He barely even knew her.

That was the thing. That was the logical part of his brain screaming at him to get a grip, to stop acting like a lovesick idiot because this wasn’t supposed to matter this much.

Ahaana was just… Ahaana.

Sharp-tongued, impossible, breathtakingly frustrating.

And in three days, she would be gone.

He just clenched his jaw and breathed through the ache of something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

She was leaving. And it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t.

But somehow, it did.

Everyone went on with their days after their impromptu brunch session, Ahaana even bid him goodbye with a slight peck on the cheek, walking away with her phone to her year to work out the semantics of her new movie.

After that, Charles had spent the past another day and a half avoiding anything that even remotely reminded him of Ahaana.

Not that it had helped.

He had tried to keep himself busy—early morning workouts, meetings, going over race strategies, mindless drives through the city—but it was there. That feeling, lingering in the back of his mind, like an annoying hum he couldn’t shut off.

She was leaving. Tomorrow.

And the worst part? She didn’t even seem bothered by it.

He had seen her the night before, briefly. A group dinner with their usual circle, where Ahaana had been her usual, sharp-witted self, laughing and arguing with Lando, making Kelly roll her eyes, stealing bites of Max’s food without asking.

She looked fine.

Meanwhile, Charles had barely been able to focus on the conversation around him.

Every time he had glanced in her direction, there it was again—that stupid, irrational tightness in his chest. That frustration that had been eating at him since she first said those words: I have to leave in three days instead of seventeen.

Why was this bothering him so much?

Why couldn’t he just shake it off?

Why did it feel like something was ending when there hadn’t even been anything to begin with?

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply as he sat alone in his dimly lit hotel room. The city outside was alive, the distant hum of traffic filtering through the windows, but inside, it was just quiet. The kind of quiet that made his thoughts louder than they should be.

Charles hated it. He hated this feeling. And he hated that no matter how much he tried to push it away, it wasn’t leaving. Charles had never been good at ignoring things forever.

That was why, when he saw Ahaana again—just hours before her flight—he felt something snap. He reached out to her and texted her about wanting to her, she quickly sent him a pin of her location.

She was sitting at a small café, her laptop open, fingers typing away at something. She hadn’t noticed him yet, completely absorbed in whatever she was working on. The warm glow of the streetlights made her look softer somehow, more at peace than she had in the past few days.

Charles took a second to think about what he was gonna say and before he could stop himself, he walked over.

Ahaana looked up at the sound of footsteps, blinking in mild surprise when she saw him. “Charles, Hey.” He didn’t respond right away. Just pulled out the chair across from her and sat down, drumming his fingers against the table.

She frowned. “You okay?”

No.

But he just shrugged. “You leave tomorrow.” She tilted her head. “Yeah. We covered this already.”

There it was again. That casualness. That ease. Like this was just another goodbye, another trip, another moment that didn’t mean anything.

“Are you coming back?” he asked, voice quieter than he intended.

Ahaana blinked at him. “To Monaco?”

He nodded, jaw tight.

She leaned back in her chair, considering. “Not anytime soon.”

His stomach twisted. He stared at her, trying to figure out why the hell that answer bothered him so much. Maybe because she said it so easily. Like she hadn’t even thought about it. Like it wasn’t even important.

“Right,” he said, forcing a nod. “Makes sense.”

Ahaana gave him a curious look. “Why do you look like you’re about to punch something?” Charles let out a short, humorless laugh. “I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

“Nope.” A beat of silence. Then—

“Charles, are you mad that I’m leaving?”

It was a simple question.

But it wrecked him.

Because was he?

Was that what this was?

He didn’t know. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t want to say it out loud. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. His voice was low when he finally spoke.

“I don’t like this.”

Ahaana frowned. “Don’t like what?”

“You leaving.”

There. He said it.

And for the first time in days, he finally let himself admit that this—her—was something he wasn’t ready to let go of just yet.

Ahaan took a breath, and paused as if thinking about what to say to him. "Okay." She sighed. "Charles, Look, I can’t do this. Not right now.”

Instead of answering, he turned on his heel and started walking, his hands clenched into fists in his pockets. He heard Ahaana scoff behind him, muttering something under her breath before her footsteps echoed his own.

The café door jingled shut behind them, the warmth of the space left behind as they stepped back onto the cool Monaco streets. The morning sun had risen higher now, casting golden streaks over the wet pavement, but neither of them seemed to notice.

"So that’s it?" Ahaana finally snapped, falling into step beside him, Him having no idea where he was headed. "You’re just going to walk away and sulk because I have to leave for work? Why are you acting like this?"

Charles let out a slow breath through his nose, his jaw tight. "I’m not sulking."

She let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, really? Because it looks a lot like sulking."

He stopped abruptly, turning to face her. "I don’t know what you want me to say, Ahaana."

She crossed her arms, her eyes scanning his face. "I don’t want you to say anything. I just—" She hesitated, shifting on her feet, before shaking her head. "Forget it."

And just like that, she started walking again, faster this time, like she was trying to outrun whatever had settled between them.

Charles hesitated only a second before he cursed under his breath and followed.

He caught her wrist before she could slip too far ahead, his fingers wrapping gently around it—gentle, but firm enough to stop her. She turned, startled, her lips parting slightly in surprise, but she didn’t pull away.

And in that moment, he just realized his surroundings.

The quiet alleyway in Monaco felt like a forgotten passage, leading straight to the endless blue of the Mediterranean. The textured stone walls, shuttered windows, and wrought-iron balconies stood in silent observation of Charles and Ahaana's story unfolding, as if taking it all in. A single lantern hung delicately above, casting a warm glow, and the uneven cobblestone path sloped gently downward, guiding the way toward an open terrace, its red-tiled edge the last barrier before the sea.

The water glimmered under the soft evening light, stretching endlessly, merging with the sky in golden and blue hues. A faint breeze stirred the stillness, carrying the scent of salt and the distant murmur of waves.

There was a rare kind of solitude here. No voices, no hurried footsteps—just the lingering warmth of the day and the vast, open horizon ahead, and two people caught in a moment that neither of them saw coming.

Charles barely had time to pull her back, his breath still heavy from the moment before, before his eyes locked onto Ahaana’s. The air between them was charged, thick with tension that had been simmering beneath the surface all night. The soft golden glow of the streetlights illuminated her face, casting delicate shadows over her features, but all Charles could focus on was the way her lips were slightly parted, the way her chest rose and fell as if she, too, was struggling to steady herself.

Ahaana didn’t move at first. Neither did he.

For a brief second, the quiet hum of the city in the distance felt deafening, but here—on this deserted street, with the Mediterranean breeze curling around them—everything else ceased to exist. It was just them.

Then, as if something inside him snapped, Charles moved.

His hands gripped her waist, and in one swift motion, he backed her up against the stone wall, the uneven surface pressing against her spine as he crowded into her space. She gasped, her fingers reaching instinctively for his shoulders, her eyes wide with something between anticipation and challenge.

He didn’t give her time to think.

His mouth was on hers in an instant, claiming her in a kiss that was nothing short of desperate. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just pure, unfiltered hunger. His lips moved against hers with an intensity that left no room for doubt, his hands sliding up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks as he deepened the kiss.

Ahaana melted against him, her grip on his shirt tightening, her body arching slightly into his. He groaned into her mouth, swallowing the soft, breathy sounds she made as their tongues tangled, as he drank in every reaction she gave him.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle.

It was fire—burning, consuming, a culmination of every glance, every lingering touch, every unspoken desire that had led them here.

His hands roamed down, skimming over the curve of her hips before gripping them tightly, pulling her flush against him. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, and the sensation sent a shiver down his spine.

And then—his lips left hers, trailing lower, down along her jawline.

He could feel the way her breath hitched, the way she tipped her head back slightly, as if inviting him in. Charles didn’t hesitate. His lips found the delicate skin of her neck, and he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the pulse point there, feeling it hammer wildly beneath his mouth.

Ahaana trembled in his arms.

He smirked against her skin before dragging his tongue over the spot, savoring the taste of her, the warmth of her. Then, with deliberate slowness, he nipped at the sensitive skin, just enough to make her gasp, to send a shudder rippling through her.

He felt her fingers tangle in his hair, her grip tightening as he continued his path downward. His lips traced along the curve of her neck, pressing slow, lingering kisses before he latched onto a spot just below her ear, sucking lightly.

Ahaana whimpered.

The sound sent something dark and possessive surging through him. He kissed her harder, his tongue flicking out to soothe the mark he’d just made before moving even lower. He was relentless, his lips and teeth exploring every inch of exposed skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He wanted to wreck her, to make her feel exactly what she was doing to him.

“Charles,” she breathed, her voice unsteady, her hands sliding down his chest, gripping onto him like he was the only thing keeping her upright.

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Her lips were swollen, her pupils blown wide with something he knew mirrored his own.

His fingers skimmed along her jaw, then trailed down to her throat, his thumb brushing over the spot he had just kissed. The way she looked at him—raw, open, completely undone—nearly made him lose the last shred of control he had.

Instead, he exhaled sharply, a smirk tugging at his lips as he whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Ahaana swallowed hard, her breath still uneven, and she looked up at him with something dangerously close to surrender.

And Charles?

He knew, without a doubt, that he wasn’t nearly done with her yet.

The silence between them was deafening now. Not the kind that was comfortable, the kind that made words unnecessary—but the kind that held unspoken truths, that pressed against Ahaana’s chest like an invisible weight.

She had to leave in five hours.

She hadn’t meant to let it get this far. The way Charles kissed her, touched her, looked at her—it had stripped her of all logic, all reason. But reality had a cruel way of creeping in when the moment ended, and now, standing in the dimly lit street, her lips still tingling from his, she felt the cold sting of it.

This wasn’t something she could allow herself to fall into. Not again.

Not after what happened last time.

She had been reckless before, trusting, letting herself believe in something that had felt just as electrifying, just as undeniable—until it had shattered, leaving her with nothing but scars that still ached when she thought about them. It had taken everything in her to piece herself back together, to rebuild the walls she swore she wouldn’t let anyone climb again.

And yet, Charles had scaled them effortlessly.

He was still leaning against the wall, his hands resting on his knees, his breathing uneven as if he was trying to steady himself. When he finally looked at her, she saw it—the flicker of something deeper in his green eyes. Not just desire, but something heavier. Something dangerous.

Something she couldn’t afford to chase.

“This…” She exhaled, shaking her head, even as every part of her wanted to take it back. “This isn’t a good idea.”

His jaw tensed, and for the first time since she had met him, she saw the slightest crack in that smooth, confident exterior. But it was gone in a blink, replaced by a small, almost indifferent nod. “I get it.”

She swallowed hard. “Charles—”

“No, I do,” he interrupted, pushing off the wall. He rolled his shoulders, forcing out a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You have your reasons. And you’re leaving soon. It wouldn’t make sense.”

It was everything she had told herself. Everything she knew to be true. But hearing him say it back made her feel like the biggest liar in the world.

Because it did make sense.

Because for those few stolen moments, when he had kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world, it had felt terrifyingly right.

Ahaana wrapped her arms around herself, forcing her voice to stay even. “I just—I can’t let myself go through that again.”

His expression faltered, just for a second, and she wondered if he had been burned before, too. If he understood what it was like to give yourself to something only for it to slip through your fingers.

Charles took a slow step toward her, not close enough to touch, but close enough that she could see the shadows of conflict playing across his face.

“I won’t fight you on this,” he murmured. “If you don’t want this, if you don’t want me, I won’t make it harder.”

But that was the problem.

She did want him. More than she should. More than she had let herself want anything in a long time.

And that was exactly why she had to walk away.

Ahaana took a step back, putting distance between them, and Charles nodded again, his hands flexing at his sides like he was holding himself back from reaching for her.

“Goodbye, Charles.”

He forced a smile, but his voice was quieter when he said, “Yeah. Take care, Ahaana.”

She turned before she could change her mind, before she could let the look in his eyes unravel the resolve she had barely managed to hold onto.

And as she walked away, every step felt like a battle between what she knew was right and what she knew would haunt her long after she was gone.

Because Charles Leclerc wasn’t the kind of man you kissed once and forgot.

And some things—some people—left a mark no matter how hard you tried to walk away.

────୨ৎ────

ᝰ.ᐟ fifth part! hope you guys like it!

next

────୨ৎ────

tags @seonghwaexile @bookishprophecy @justadesirebel @peterholland04 @bakingpiastries @ricciardosheart @mikefaistgf @sp1rl @charlesgirl16 @leila-030304 @uhcalli @blahblechblah @phobiccneel @blushmimi @whoseafraidofliloleme

comment to be added to taglist

────୨ৎ────

© weekendlusting

────୨ৎ────

[weekendlusting]

❀ WE LISTEN AND WE DON'T JUDGE — LN4

Lando Norris x Reader / est. relationship / library

Syn. Doing the TikTok challenge with your boyfriend. We listen and we don’t judge . . . except we do ;)

So Lando and I decided to hop on the TikTok trend, filming ourselves all cosy in bed — him in a hoodie, arm around me, and me holding the phone while trying not to crack up.

I hit play and turn to look at Lando. He was examining me while biting down on his laugh a devilish glint in his eyes.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” We say in unison.

“Okay I’ll go first,” I began.

“I once tried on your race suit when you weren’t home.”

“Wait what?” he huffed. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” He hollered, half laughing. He was mad but the dusky pink in his cheeks gave it away.

I held on to his shoulder while trying not to choke on my breath with the way I was giggling at his comical expression.

“Did it fit though?” He asked giggling at the thought of it. “No Lan, your arms are too big,” I replied. I cupped his jaw unable to keep myself from chuckling. “Uh huh, fair.”

“Okay my turn,” Lando said.

“We listen and we don’t judge.”

“I keep screenshots of your texts when you say nice things about me.”

I was rendered speechless. My jaw hung open, warmth gushing to my cheeks with the biggest smile on my face. Lando was already out of frame as he hid his head, quivering down in my lap holding my knees for dear life. His neck was entirely a shade of red.

“Lando…”

“No shut up, don’t make a big deal.”

“But baby that’s so CUTE!” I called out now rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s so sweet. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He murmured now sitting up. “Okay okay next question!”

“We listen and we don’t judge.”

“I keep one of your hoodies in my cars when I miss you during race weeks.”

Now it was Lando’s turn to be speechless. He was thawing into a puddle. Immediately switches to a soft tone.

You do?” eyes crinkling into crescents at the idea of me nuzzling into his hoodie during his absence.

Instantly bombards me with a hug mumbling I love you into my neck — now both of us entirely out of frame.

After prying him off, now Lando entirely clinging to me and a love-struck smile on his face, we proceeded with the challenge.

“I once fake slept so you’d keep playing with my hair.”

He said spinning to me with a proud smile. I huffed at his confession although it made my heart skip a thousand beats.

“YOU LIAR!”

“What?? You were doing it so nicely. Scratching my scalp and shit.”

“So you mean I was sitting there for 20 min—”

“Yes and it felt great.”

I heave a pillow toward him which he successfully swerves with goofy grins on our faces.

“Okay last one,” I said. “We listen and we don’t judge.”

I hang back a bit, shyness overshadowing my demeanour. I clear my throat and barely veer away from Lando.

“Um, I kinda love when you’re all sweaty after a race. It’s disgusting, but it’s also unfairly attractive.”

My voice came out quieter than I aimed at as I looked at Lando. His mouth was barely open as he poked his tongue into his cheek. A cunning snicker appeared on his face.

“Uh-huh,” he plodded closer. “You’re down bad.”

I rolled my eyes at his teasing. Pressing him back by his chest. His body was warm under my fingers.

“Whatever, your turn”

“Alright then, we listen and we don’t judge.”

His demeanour switched to a more assured one this time around. He leaned nearer to me practically only whispering to me.

“I purposely wear gray sweatpants around you because I know you stare.”

My breath clamped in my throat under the gaze he ensnared me in. Before I could say anything he went on.

“I like it when you wake me up like THAT in the morning.”

“Lando STOP,” I whimper into my palms blanketing my face.

“Yeah? Then why are you hiding?” He picked on me. I could hear him sneering at this point.

“I’d give up a podium just to see you smile when you need it.” He declared ultimately.

My groans were hushed as I peeked at him from before my fingers. “You can’t say that.”

He simply chortled and whispered, “Come here, love.” Arms lurking around my waist as the video cut off.

[COMMENTS]

ln4fwdc: ‘I like when you wake me up like that in the morning’ SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S DRIVE-THRU.

user17371818: THE WAY HE LEANS IN AND LOWERS HIS VOICE. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION???

op81girlie: McLaren admin seeing this: ‘we don’t get paid enough for this job.’

maxriss: THE WAY HE SAID THE LAST ONE I JUST KNOW HE MEANS IT.

landoscar481: I just know this man is a PROBLEM behind closed doors.

reblog and follow <3 all rights reserved ©maxriss please do not copy, save, or translate my stories. this is no place for hate and violence, kindly maintain love and peace.

[weekendlusting]

i was already planning on adding social media chapters to charles and ahaana's story, which is this , but do i add all chapters after the series is ended or should i write some in the middle. please do give your opinions.

[weekendlusting]

A TALE OF FAME

pairing ꪆৎ charles leclerc x ahaana patel ᥫ᭡. f1 driver x bollywood actress au

chapter ꪆৎ 4

summary ꪆৎ she's everything, and he just drives.

note ꪆৎ no hate to any characters used in the story, none of what i write reflects on how they actually are. all my love, happy reading.

characteraesthetics | socials&intro | one | two | three | four | five | six |

The streetlights cast their golden glow on the slick cobblestone streets, as Monaco’s night embraced the quiet lull after the evening crowds had long since dispersed. Ahaana Patel had just finished another grueling reading session for Jigra, this time with Vedang Raina, her co star who plays the "jigra" in the movie, and Vasan Bala, the director of the movie.. The call had been buzzing with activity, the air thick with anticipation for the movie’s impending launch. But as she made her way through the still night, her mind wandered, caught between the excitement of returning to Bollywood and the unease of stepping back into a world she had once distanced herself from.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. A quick glance at the screen revealed a message from Karan Johar, the producer who had not only rekindled her Bollywood career but was also, for better or worse, the force that pulled her back into this whirlwind. Ahaana smiled at the message: "Remember, tomorrow's reading important. Don't overthink it!"

Her smile faded as she shoved the phone back into her bag. It wasn’t just the upcoming filming that had her thoughts in a frenzy. The rain started slowly, as if the weather itself had decided to add an extra layer of drama to her already chaotic emotions. It drizzled gently at first, but quickly grew more intense. She was about to pull her umbrella out when a sudden gust of wind caught her off guard, flipping the umbrella inside out. With a frustrated huff, Ahaana gave up and wrapped her arms around herself, quickening her pace as she made her way toward the coffee shop she had promised herself as a refuge for the night.

Monaco had a way of shifting moods within hours, and the glamour of the Grand Prix could never quite prepare someone for the kind of solitude one might encounter in the city’s winding streets. The lights from cafes and bistros flickered softly, but the rain blurred their reflections, creating a dreamy, almost surreal atmosphere. Ahaana welcomed it—she needed this. A quiet moment where she could collect her thoughts and prepare herself for the whirlwind to come.

Her shoes splashed against the wet pavement as she hurried forward, the rain now soaking her to the bone. She didn’t mind—though it was cold, it was somehow soothing. The slight discomfort of the wet clothes reminded her that she was still human beneath the polished image people expected of her.

As she rounded a corner, her phone slipped from her hand, landing with a soft thud in the nearest puddle. Her breath caught as she quickly crouched down to retrieve it, wiping off the water that had already soaked into the screen.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, before looking up.

It was then she heard the sound of an engine revving, the smooth hum of a car pulling up beside her. The headlights cut through the dark as the vehicle slowed down to a crawl. Ahaana barely had a chance to look up before a familiar voice broke through the quiet night.

"Underwater yet?”

She looked up, startled, only to meet Charles Leclerc’s amused face, framed by the dark interior of his sleek, black car.

“You seem to have a knack for finding me in the most inconvenient moments,” Ahaana said, her voice tinged with sarcasm but a playful glint in her eyes. She could feel her heart rate pick up slightly at the sight of him, and she tried to mask the sudden flutter with a nonchalant tone.

Charles raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wouldn’t be so quick to judge. You seem to be doing quite well in your little adventure out in the rain. But if you’d like, I can offer you a ride.” He paused for effect. “Unless you plan on swimming to where you're going?”

Ahaana was about to brush him off, but something about his voice—calm, caring, and teasing all at once—made her pause. She glanced up at the coffee shop, now barely visible through the rain, and then back at Charles, his car still idling, waiting for her response.

“You don’t have to do that,” she began, though her body language was already betraying her. The chill from the rain was seeping deep into her bones, and she wasn’t in the mood for another cold walk to her destination. She shivered involuntarily as the wind picked up. “I’m sure your car is far too nice to have someone like me soaking up the seats.”

Charles chuckled, a warm, easy sound that seemed to cut through the damp night air. “It’s closer than that coffee shop, and I’m guessing you’re already a little too wet to care about how nice my car is.”

Ahaana tilted her head, her expression a mix of amusement and hesitation. “You know, you’re really hard to say no to.”

“I’ve been told,” he said, grinning as he opened the door to the passenger seat. “Come on, get in before you turn into an ice sculpture.”

Despite her internal resistance, Ahaana found herself walking toward the car, stepping in and shutting the door behind her. The warmth of the car enveloped her, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief as she settled into the plush seat. She immediately reached for her damp hair, trying to push it away from her face, but the rain had soaked through so thoroughly that it didn’t seem to matter.

Once inside, Ahaana groaned, pulling at her soaking wet sleeves. "Ugh, I’m going to catch pneumonia."

Charles reached into the backseat, pulling out a hoodie. "Here."

She hesitated before taking it, slipping it over her damp clothes. It was warm, slightly oversized, and smelled exactly like him—clean, fresh, with just a hint of something she couldn't quite place but immediately liked.

She let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess you’re not the worst Monaco tour guide. But only because you came with amenities."

Charles shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he started the car. "And here I thought I was making an impression."

Little did she know, she was making an impression on him instead.

“So,” Charles began, after a few moments of comfortable silence, his tone light but laced with a curiosity she hadn’t expected, “how’s Jigra going?”

Ahaana glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Not what I was expecting as small talk, but sure,” she said, her voice laced with mock surprise. “I thought you’d ask about something more stupid, like how you noticed my shirt is absolutely see through right now.”

Charles smirked at that, "Oh I definitely noticed that." To which Ahaana let out half a chuckle and a scoff. “But, I’m more interested in what’s really going on. Jigra is a big deal, right? Can I ask why? I mean this isn't the first intense film you've done, from what Max told me. And by his reaction that day I'm guessing there's more to this.”

“Keeping tabs on me are you?,” she teased, trying to lighten the tension in her shoulders because of his question, her gaze briefly drifting to the window as the rain slid down the glass in rivulets.

She turned back to look at Charles's magnificently handsome face, only to see him with a raised eyebrow as if asking her to elaborate. She sighed and said “It’s nothing. It's just something happened during my last film that I haven't quite gotten over yet. Of course I want to do this film, it's a great role, Satya is an amazing character to play. But it's not the acting I'm scared off, it's just weird for me to go back to film city right now.”

“Well, I don’t see you as the type to get scared of anything. I think you're gonna be just fine.” Charles’s voice was teasing, but it was also full of sincerity.

Ahaana’s gaze flicked back to him, and for a moment, their eyes locked. There was something about his presence—so steady, so grounded—that made her feel like she could exhale for the first time in weeks.

“You’d be surprised,” she said quietly. “I’ve had some time away from acting, and the pressure... it’s not what I remember. It’s a lot harder to let go of all the expectations people place on you.”

Charles looked at her thoughtfully, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “I get it,” he said. “The weight of it all, the constant eyes, the pressure to keep being perfect. It’s exhausting. I’ve been there.”

Ahaana regarded him carefully, intrigued by his response. “So what do you do when it gets too much?”

He shrugged, a small, wistful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I just keep going. It’s all you can do, right? And sometimes, when things feel a little too heavy, you find ways to laugh. You keep yourself grounded.”

Ahaana chuckled, her gaze softening. “I could use more of that, I think.”

“I can help with that,” he said, his voice playful but sincere. “I’m pretty good at keeping people grounded. Or at least distracted.”

“You seem to be very confident in your abilities,” Ahaana teased, her eyes narrowing with playful suspicion.

“Well, I have to be,” Charles said, his smirk widening. “It’s part of the job description.”

The light banter helped break the tension, and Ahaana found herself more comfortable than she had expected. The warmth of the car and the easy rhythm of their conversation was soothing in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

They drove the short distance to Charles’s apartment in comfortable silence, the kind that only happens between people who don’t need constant chatter to fill the gaps. When they pulled into his garage, Ahaana looked up, taking in the sleek, modern building, the lights inside casting a warm glow across the driveway.

Charles parked, turned off the engine, and immediately got out of the car, moving quickly around to her side. As soon as the door opened, the cold hit her like a wave, and she stepped out gingerly, wrapping her arms around herself to try and stave off the chill.

“Come on,” Charles said gently, offering her a hand. His touch was warm and steady, and for a moment, Ahaana hesitated before taking it. His fingers curled around hers, firm but gentle as he led her through the entrance of the building.

As they walked through the door, Charles led her into the living room, which was a spacious, airy room filled with muted tones and sleek furniture. The whole place had a modern but homey vibe—like the kind of space someone could live in without it ever feeling cold or sterile. There was a large window that framed a perfect view of the glittering city below, the occasional car headlights cutting through the rainy night. It was peaceful.

“You can sit here,” Charles said, gesturing toward the sofa. “I’ll get you a towel.”

Ahaana lowered herself onto the soft cushions, still shivering as she wrapped her arms around herself. She felt self-conscious for a moment—being in his space, accepting his help—but her exhaustion, both physical and mental, quickly overtook that discomfort.

She looked around, her eyes landing on the sleek glass coffee table in front of her, the coffee cups left casually on the surface. It was clear that Charles’s place wasn’t overly formal, but it also wasn’t careless—it was a place he seemed to have carefully curated for his own comfort. And somehow, that made it feel even more personal.

Charles returned a few moments later with a thick towel in hand, his expression soft but determined. “Here, let’s get you dried off a bit. You’re absolutely freezing.”

Ahaana took the towel from him, a little reluctantly at first. But then she let out a small sigh and began drying her hair, pressing the fabric into her scalp to soak up the moisture. The heat from the towel, along with the warmth of the room, felt like a relief she hadn’t realized she needed. She could feel her body finally starting to ease into the comfort of the moment, though she couldn’t entirely shake the tension in her chest.

“Such chivalry,” she teased, her voice softer now, probably because she was freezing. “You sure you're not doing this to get laid Leclerc?.”

Charles, who had settled himself on the opposite end of the couch, looked at her with an expression that was equal parts amused and understanding. “Ahaana,” he began, his voice low and husky, sending a chill down Ahaana's spine, she didnt't know it was because of him or the cold, “Trust me baby, if I wanted to seduce you I wouldn't be offering you more clothes right now.”

Ahaana laughed, and just shook her head. “Alright, alright, knock it off.” she said, her voice lighter now. “I’ll take advantage of your hospitality for now.”

Charles chuckled, and for a moment, they simply sat in silence, letting the quiet fill the space between them. The steady beat of the rain outside continued, creating a rhythmic soundtrack to the peace that had settled over the apartment.

The soft hum of the rain against the windows had begun to settle into the background, a calming melody that accompanied the flickering warmth of the lights in Charles’s apartment. Ahaana, now thoroughly dried off, had settled back onto the couch, wrapped in the plush towel like a cocoon. The cold was starting to fade, and with it, the tension in her body. Still, there was a softness in the air, the kind that made it easy to stay in the moment without thinking too far ahead.

Charles, having noticed her growing comfort, stood up and moved to a nearby closet. “I’ve got a shirt you can borrow. It’s not fancy, but it’ll keep you warm.”

He returned with a simple black T-shirt in hand and offered it to her with a warm smile. Ahaana took it with a quiet, grateful nod, and without thinking much of it, slipped it on. The fabric, soft and oversized, enveloped her like a second skin. It was exactly what she needed—a little comfort, a little security.

Charles took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, his eyes never leaving her as she adjusted the shirt. “There. Much better,” he said, his voice easy and teasing, but with an undertone of something deeper—something that lingered just beneath the surface.

Ahaana chuckled, running a hand through her damp hair, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest. “I feel like I’m wearing a blanket,” she said, adjusting the shirt, feeling the coolness of the fabric against her skin. The way it hung on her made her feel both cozy and oddly exposed. “It’s... comfortable, though. Thanks.”

Charles nodded, still looking at her with that relaxed smile of his. “You’re welcome. And now, how about some coffee?”

Ahaana raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “That sounds like heaven.” He grinned bright, moving toward the kitchen.

Ahaana smiled as she settled back into the couch, her legs folded under her. The apartment was quiet now, save for the rain that pattered against the windows. Charles’s space felt more like a retreat than a home—a sanctuary of sleek, minimalist design with subtle hints of personal warmth. The dim glow of the lights created soft shadows around the room, highlighting the simple elegance of his furnishings.

When Charles returned with two mugs of steaming coffee, he handed one to her before sitting down. He took a deep breath and let the steam rise from his cup, savoring the warmth before looking back at her.

The soft hum of the rain against the windows and the warm, cozy glow of Charles’s living room created an atmosphere that was far from what Ahaana expected when she’d stepped out of her hotel earlier that evening. Her clothes were still a little damp, but the T-shirt she’d borrowed from Charles fit her in that way that made her feel comfortable yet oddly aware of the fact that it wasn’t hers. It was just the right amount of snug, and the familiar scent of Charles’s cologne lingered faintly on the fabric, making it hard to ignore the closeness between them.

As she sat on the couch, sipping the coffee Charles had thoughtfully handed her, she felt an unexpected sense of ease. The tension of the evening—the rain, the rush, the impromptu ride—had faded into something softer, something gentler.

Charles had settled back in the armchair across from her, his gaze not quite focused on anything, as if he were trying to read her. She noticed how he ran his hand through his hair absentmindedly, the gesture casual but endearing. The way he looked at her, though—there was something undeniably different about it. She could feel it in the air, in the way he leaned forward slightly, as if he were hanging on to every word she said.

"Not bad, huh?" Charles finally spoke, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. His voice was warm, easy, like the most natural thing in the world.

Ahaana took a small sip of her coffee, then met his eyes with a playful grin. "Not bad at all. This whole place—it’s very… you."

Charles smirked, clearly amused by her response. "I like to think it’s got a little charm." He leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I mean, it's not a mansion or anything, but it’s home."

Ahaana tilted her head, glancing around the sleek apartment. The minimalist décor, the soft lighting—it did have a certain charm, but there was something else about it. It felt warm, lived in. "It’s… very cozy, actually."

Charles’s expression softened a little, and he smiled. "Cozy is good. I like cozy." He paused, and for a moment, the easy banter they’d been sharing turned into something a little more genuine, a little more introspective. "I guess we all need a place where we can just… be ourselves, right?"

Ahaana thought for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee mug absentmindedly. "Yeah," she said quietly, her voice soft but steady. "I think I’ve been looking for that. A place where I can just… not be in the spotlight for a while."

The vulnerability in her voice didn’t escape Charles’s notice. He shifted in his seat, leaning slightly forward. "Well, you’ve got it here, Ahaana. No one’s watching. Just… you and me."

Ahaana caught the glint of sincerity in his eyes and felt a flutter in her chest. She wasn’t used to moments like this—moments where everything wasn’t so complicated. The world outside didn’t matter in this little bubble they’d created, just the two of them, drinking coffee in the glow of candlelight, the rain outside acting as a backdrop.

Before she could respond, Charles gave her a playful grin, as if the moment had slipped back into something lighter. "Hey, you know," he said, tapping his mug with his fingers, "I think this might be the most spontaneous evening I’ve had in a while."

Ahaana chuckled, her eyes sparkling. "Spontaneous? You almost ran me over in the rain. I’d call that an accident, not a plan."

Charles laughed, the sound easy and light. "Okay, fair point," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But I’m kind of glad it happened."

Ahaana raised an eyebrow, her smile playful. "Really? You’re glad I nearly got hypothermia?"

He shrugged, the corners of his lips curling up into that endearing half-smile that she’d already come to find impossible to ignore. "Well, maybe not the getting drenched part. But I don’t mind the company."

Ahaana felt a warmth spreading through her chest, not from the coffee, but from his words. There was something so easy about Charles—the way he didn’t overthink things, the way his humor made her forget about the little worries she carried with her. He didn’t expect anything from her, just… enjoyed being around her.

"I guess I don’t mind the company either," Ahaana said, her voice a little quieter this time, but the smile on her lips was genuine.

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. The silence between them was comfortable, almost like it wasn’t something that needed to be filled with words. Ahaana let her gaze wander, noticing the subtle details of his apartment again—the simple elegance of it all, the way the dim candlelight made everything feel more intimate, more… personal. She hadn’t realized how much she liked being in his space until now. It felt welcoming in a way that she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

Charles broke the silence with a half-laugh, pulling her attention back to him. "You know," he said, his voice a little quieter, "I’m not used to being so… relaxed. It’s kind of nice."

Ahaana leaned back on the couch, glancing at him through half-lidded eyes. "Well, maybe you should get used to it. Relaxing seems like something you don’t do enough."

He tilted his head, meeting her gaze with a hint of something deeper, a subtle curiosity. "What makes you think that?"

Ahaana shrugged, tapping her mug gently against her lips. "Just a feeling. You look like you could use more quiet nights, less racing around the world."

Charles looked at her for a long moment, his eyes flicking down to her lips before meeting her eyes again. For a brief second, something in the air shifted between them—something that made her heartbeat skip a little. The way he looked at her, the way he was so unguarded in that moment, it made her feel like she was the only one in the room.

Before either of them could say anything more, the lights suddenly flickered. Both of them looked up in surprise as the apartment was plunged into darkness.

"Great," Charles muttered, but there was no frustration in his voice. It was more an amused sigh, as if this was just another one of those small, inconvenient moments that life liked to throw at him.

Ahaana couldn’t help but laugh at the timing. "Seriously? What is it with tonight and things going wrong?"

Charles smiled, shaking his head. "You should’ve stayed in your hotel room."

But Ahaana, her lips curling into a playful grin, leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. "I’m glad I didn’t. It’s… more interesting this way."

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her response. "More interesting, huh?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice light, but there was something in it that made Charles’s heart beat a little faster. "You’re not so bad to hang out with."

Charles let out a small laugh. "I try my best."

Charles quickly got up and dug up some candles to help. Charles placed the candles and Ahaana lit them up using the lighter, both working like a well oiled machine in silence.

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the room, creating an intimate ambiance that seemed to cocoon the two of them in a little world of their own. Charles’s eyes never fully left Ahaana’s, even as she casually took another sip from her coffee. There was something magnetic about her tonight—something that made him want to keep her here, to keep talking to her, to keep feeling like the moments they shared weren’t just fleeting.

The rain continued to tap against the windows in soft, rhythmic beats, the sound almost comforting in its consistency. Outside, Monaco was bathed in soft lights, but inside Charles’s apartment, the world felt small and quiet—just the two of them, the gentle hum of the night, and the occasional flicker of the candle.

Ahaana shifted in her seat, adjusting the shirt of Charles’s she was still wearing. It hung loosely on her, the sleeves slightly rolled up, revealing a glimpse of her toned arms. The comfort of the shirt seemed to settle her into a kind of quiet relaxation that had been absent earlier in the evening, when she was still tense from the cold rain and her doubts. Now, she felt lighter somehow—lighter, and more at ease.

Charles watched her, his gaze softening as he saw the shift in her posture, the way she almost looked like she belonged here, in this moment, in this space.

"Are you sure you don’t mind me staying?" Ahaana asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of uncertainty. She had been a little hesitant to let herself fully relax, but the night had unfolded in ways she hadn’t expected. It was strange, staying at someone’s place in the middle of a rainstorm, especially when that person was someone who had been slowly worming his way into her thoughts more and more.

"Are you kidding?" Charles said with a smile, his tone light, but there was an earnestness beneath it that caught her attention. "It’s late, and it’s a downpour out there. You’re not going anywhere." He didn’t make it sound like an imposition; if anything, it came off as more of an invitation, a quiet assurance that this moment wasn’t just a passing thing.

The room fell into another moment of comfortable silence, but this time, it was different. There was a certain ease to it, a kind of understanding that they didn’t need to fill the space with words all the time. They both seemed to be lost in their own thoughts, yet still very much present with each other.

Charles broke the silence, his voice soft. "You know… I never really get nights like this. Where everything just feels… simple. Easy."

Ahaana turned to look at him, a little surprised by his admission. She’d never expected him to open up like that. He had always been the one to deflect, to keep things light. But tonight, it was as if the walls between them had started to come down, just a little bit.

"Yeah?" she asked, her voice almost gentle now, as if she, too, was starting to understand just how rare this moment was.

"Yeah," he replied with a smile that was almost shy, as if he wasn’t used to sharing this side of himself. "I’m usually running from one thing to the next, you know? Racing. But this… this feels different, refreshing."

Ahaana tilted her head, watching him closely, her gaze thoughtful. "I get it," she said after a pause, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like that too. Like I’m always… running. Running from something, or towards something, but never really stopping to… just be." She didn’t realize how much she had said until the words were already out. But once she’d said them, it was like a small weight lifted off her shoulders. Talking about it didn’t seem so hard anymore.

Charles was quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. The intensity in his gaze made her feel both exposed and understood. He wasn��t judging her; he was just listening. And in that moment, Ahaana felt a shift—a subtle change in the air. She wasn’t sure if it was just the night, the rain, or the quiet intimacy of the moment, but something between them was starting to change.

"I think I know what you mean," he said, his voice steady, yet there was a vulnerability in it that she hadn’t expected. "Sometimes it’s hard to just… be. But tonight, it feels okay. With you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering lightly at the sincerity in his words. "Yeah," she agreed softly, her voice barely audible. "Tonight feels okay."

A few beats passed in silence, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt full, complete. As if they had said everything that needed to be said without really saying it all.

Then, Charles stood up suddenly, drawing her attention. "You want some more coffee?" he asked, his tone light but sincere, like he was trying to keep things casual, even though everything inside him was starting to feel… different.

Ahaana nodded, not trusting herself to speak at first, so she just watched him move around the kitchen, preparing another cup for her. She felt the pull between them intensifying with every moment. Every glance. Every word. Something was happening, something neither of them had expected.

And Ahaana, despite her usual reservations, couldn’t deny it anymore. There was a growing connection, a magnetic pull that she couldn’t walk away from, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise.

When Charles came back with the coffee, their hands brushed as he passed it to her, and for a brief moment, the electricity between them crackled again. Ahaana glanced up at him, their eyes meeting in a long, silent exchange, and she couldn’t help but feel the shift in her heart.

The air between them crackled, and Ahaana couldn’t deny it anymore. There was something building. Something… undeniable.

She looked at him now, watching him with an intensity she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. His features were soft in the candlelight, the slight stubble on his chin giving him a rugged edge that contrasted with the quiet warmth of his eyes. There was a sincerity in his gaze, a depth that made her heart flutter and her thoughts scatter. The way he looked at her made her feel as if she were the only person in the room, the only person that mattered.

Charles noticed her gaze, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. His heart beat a little faster. There was something about the way Ahaana looked at him—something that made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t in a long time. The teasing, the playful banter—they had all melted away, leaving only this unspoken tension between them. He couldn’t quite place it, but he knew it was real. He knew that this—this—was something that wasn’t just going to slip away.

His eyes lingered on hers, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn’t until the silence stretched just a little too long that he realized he was leaning forward slightly, drawn in by the magnetic pull between them. He didn’t want to move too quickly. Didn’t want to make it awkward or force something that wasn’t there. But the way her lips parted ever so slightly, the way her chest rose and fell as she exhaled—he could feel the heat between them, the undeniable tension in the space that neither of them had been able to ignore.

Ahaana, too, felt the tension, the charged energy swirling between them. It was like something was building, an invisible force that neither of them could quite name, but both of them were painfully aware of. Her heart was beating faster, her breath coming a little more shallow than usual, and she felt that familiar pull toward him, a magnetic force that made her want to close the space between them, to see where this moment could go.

She swallowed, and for a brief moment, she considered pulling away. But the thought was fleeting. She didn’t want to walk away from this, not tonight, not with him. Something about being here, in this space, with him—it felt right. She had spent so much time running from feelings, from connections, but with Charles, everything felt like it was aligning in ways she couldn’t explain.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, she leaned forward just a fraction, her eyes never leaving his. The space between them was so small now, so unbearably close. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, could smell the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the rich, earthy aroma of the coffee. Her pulse quickened, and she wondered if he could feel it too.

Charles, his heart racing in his chest, felt the air shift once more. He could barely hear the rain anymore; it was just the sound of their breath, the beating of their hearts that filled the silence. Everything else fell away, and for that one charged moment, it was just the two of them. He could see the vulnerability in Ahaana’s eyes, the way her lips parted ever so slightly, like she was holding her breath, waiting for something. He couldn’t help but lean in just a little more, his body betraying him as his mind tried to process what was happening.

“Charles,” Ahaana whispered, her voice soft and tentative, but there was a hint of something else in it now, something unspoken that made his chest tighten. She was so close now, too close, and yet she didn’t pull away.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a slow breath, as if trying to steady himself. He was so close to her now, he could almost feel her heartbeat matching his. He could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, the hesitation that still lingered. And yet, something told him that she wasn’t pulling away, that she was waiting for something, just like he was.

His hand moved almost without thinking, gently reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face, the simple gesture sending a rush of warmth through him. As his fingers grazed her skin, he felt an electric jolt shoot through him. He hadn’t meant to touch her like that—not in this moment—but it felt… natural.

Ahaana’s breath hitched at the touch, and her eyes fluttered closed for a second, the heat of the moment washing over her. When she opened her eyes again, they were locked on his, the distance between them barely a breath apart. She could feel the tension between them building, the charge in the air almost unbearable. She could feel her own pulse quickening, and for a split second, she thought about pulling back. But she couldn’t.

Without even realizing it, she leaned in just a little closer, her body moving toward his as if guided by some invisible force. The intensity in the air was palpable now, thick with unspoken words, unspoken desires.

And then, as if the universe itself had decided to intervene, the moment stretched just a fraction too long, and neither of them could hold back any longer. Charles’s gaze dropped to her lips, and he could feel his own lips part slightly, his breath coming faster. Ahaana mirrored his movements, her lips trembling ever so slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed the final bit of space between them.

Just as their lips were about to meet, the thunder cackled very very loudly outside, lightening up the room more.

Both of them froze. The tension snapped, and the moment was broken—shattered by the sudden power outage.

For a split second, they just stood there, their faces inches apart, both breathing heavily, both still caught in the aftershock of what had almost happened.

Ahaana was the first to pull away, her breath a little unsteady. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to apologize. "Well… that was… unexpected," she said softly, her voice breathless.

Charles let out a nervous chuckle, his hand still hovering in the space between them, his fingers twitching as if they were still reaching for her. "Yeah…."

Ahaana glanced around the room, now lit only by the flickering candlelight. The entire ambiance had changed—still charged, still full of possibility, but now laced with a touch of awkwardness that neither of them knew how to navigate.

"Well, um we should go to bed," Ahaana said, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice still held that slight tremor from what had almost happened. She couldn’t look at him directly; instead, she focused on the candle flame, the dancing light keeping her from meeting his eyes.

"Yeah," Charles replied, his voice low, his eyes still searching hers. "Get some sleep, yeah."

Ahaana nodded, though the words felt heavy in her mouth. "Yeah."

Neither of them moved immediately. The tension was still there, still crackling, but now it was tempered by the uncertainty of what had just happened. Neither of them was sure where to go from here, but both of them knew that whatever had almost happened, it hadn’t been the end. It was just the beginning.

And neither of them was ready to walk away from that, not yet.

────୨ৎ────

ᝰ.ᐟ fourth part! hope you guys like it!

next

────୨ৎ────

tags @seonghwaexile @bookishprophecy @justadesirebel @peterholland04 @bakingpiastries @ricciardosheart @mikefaistgf @sp1rl @charlesgirl16 @leila-030304 @uhcalli @blahblechblah @phobiccneel @blushmimi

comment to be added to taglist

────୨ৎ────

© weekendlusting

────୨ৎ────

[weekendlusting]

A TALE OF FAME

pairing ꪆৎ charles leclerc x ahaana patel ᥫ᭡. f1 driver x bollywood actress au

chapter ꪆৎ 3

summary ꪆৎ she's everything, and he just drives.

note ꪆৎ no hate to any characters used in the story, none of what i write reflects on how they actually are. all my love, happy reading.

characteraesthetics | socials&intro | one | two | three | four | five | six |

────୨ৎ────

Charles Leclerc sat in his hotel suite, fingers drumming impatiently against the glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn’t even drinking it—just swirling the amber liquid in the dim light of his room, as if the motion itself could steady his thoughts.

Alex was late. Of course, she was. She had a way of dragging things out, prolonging the inevitable, believing that if she held on long enough, reality would bend to her will.

He heard the sharp knock at his door and exhaled slowly before getting up to open it. Alex stood there, all too put together—her blonde hair in effortless waves, her lips curved in a knowing smirk, like she already thought she’d won whatever game she was playing.

“Chéri,” she purred, stepping past him without waiting for an invitation. “Miss me?”

Charles shut the door and ran a hand through his hair. “Sit down, Alex.”

She turned, arching a perfectly sculpted brow. “Oh? We’re being serious now?” She strolled over to the couch, sitting with the grace of someone who still thought they held all the cards.

Charles didn’t sit. He remained standing, arms crossed, his jaw tight. “I told you this was over.”

Alex let out a soft laugh, tilting her head as she crossed her legs. “And yet, you called me here. Mixed signals, don’t you think?”

“I called you here,” Charles said, voice measured, “because you don’t seem to get it. We are done, Alex. Finished.”

Her smile didn’t waver, but something flickered in her eyes. “Are we?” she said smoothly. “Because I keep hearing your name next to mine. The media still calls me your girlfriend. You haven’t exactly rushed to correct them.”

Charles clenched his fists. “I shouldn’t have to. We broke up. You just refuse to accept it.”

She leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “Or maybe you’re just confused. Maybe this—whatever this little tantrum is—will pass, and you’ll realize that I am the only woman who truly understands you.”

Charles let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Tantrum? You think I’m throwing a tantrum? Alex, I am exhausted.”

Her smirk faltered slightly, but she masked it quickly. “Exhausted of what?”

“Of you!” His voice rose, exasperation lacing every word. “Of the mind games. Of the manipulation. Of the constant need to control everything, including me.” He pointed at her. “You think if you show up enough times, if you insert yourself into my life over and over, I’ll just—what? Change my mind?”

Alex’s eyes darkened. “I wouldn’t have to insert myself into your life if certain people weren’t trying to replace me.”

Charles exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And here we go.”

She stood, arms folding as she stepped closer to him. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Charles. That little actress you’ve been parading around—Ahaana.”

Charles’s eyes snapped to hers, his posture stiffening. “Ahaana has nothing to do with this.”

Alex scoffed. “Please. You think I don’t see the way you looked at her that day?” She stepped closer, voice dripping with venom. “She is nothing. She’s a novelty. A shiny new toy for you to play with. And once the excitement fades, you’ll realize what I’ve always known—you and I are inevitable.”

Charles’s jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. “You are delusional, Alex. And actually fucking crazy if you think that Ahaana has anything to do with this.”

Her lips curled. “Am I?”

“Yes,” he snapped, stepping forward, closing the space between them. “I have never—never—been more certain about anything in my life. We are over. I am breaking up with you. I don’t love you. I don’t even like you.”

She inhaled sharply, but before she could speak, Charles continued.

“You want to know why? Because I see you now. For who you really are. You’re not the woman I fell for—you’re a version of her, twisted and bitter, clinging onto something that doesn’t exist anymore.” He exhaled harshly. “You’re right about one thing. I do look at Ahaana differently. Because she isn’t like you.”

Alex’s face twisted, her hands curling into fists. “She will never be me.”

“Thank God for that.”

The silence between them was thick, charged with something dangerously close to hatred. Charles had never wanted to hate Alex—had never even imagined he could—but looking at her now, seeing the pure, unfiltered malice in her eyes, he realized he might be close.

She straightened, lifting her chin. “You’ll regret this.”

“No,” he said quietly. “I won’t.”

She stared at him, something almost desperate flickering across her features, before she masked it with indifference. “Fine,” she said. “Have it your way.”

Charles said nothing. He just watched as she turned, her heels clicking against the floor as she stormed toward the door. But before she left, she paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

“This isn’t over,” she said, voice eerily calm.

And then, she was gone.

Charles stood there for a long moment, his heart pounding, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms.

But then he exhaled, shaking his head, as if shedding the last remnants of whatever hold Alex had on him.

For the first time in a long time, he felt free.

Meanwhile not too far away,the hotel room was bathed in soft hues of twilight, the warm amber glow of the setting sun spilling through the sheer curtains. Ahaana sat curled up in a chair by the window, her phone resting idly on the armrest. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of a coffee mug, long gone cold. The day had been uneventful, yet her mind was anything but still. The ghosts of the past lingered in the shadows, whispering doubts, tugging at old wounds she had worked so hard to forget.

India.

Film city.

Even the thought of it sent a strange chill through her veins. It wasn’t fear—not exactly. It was the weight of something unfinished, something unresolved, lurking in the corners of her memory. The industry that had once been her playground had also turned its back on her when she had needed it the most. And yet, here she was, being offered a way back in.

What the fuck is happening? She sighed to herself, rubbing her temple.

The phone buzzed suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, expecting yet another half-hearted PR email or a message from her manager. But instead, a name lit up the display, and for the first time that day, she felt something shift inside her.

Varun Dhawan.

She hesitated for only a second before answering. “Hello?”

“Finally! Madam has answered my call.” His voice was light, teasing, filled with the familiar warmth that had always made her feel like home.

Ahaana huffed out a small laugh. “Hi, Varun.”

“Hi, she says. That’s all I get? After ignoring me for days?”

“I haven’t been ignoring you.”

“Really? Because Karan and I were starting to think you had developed some severe phone phobia. Should we be concerned?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Me? Never.” His tone dropped slightly, losing some of its playful edge. “Ahaana, you know why I’m calling.”

Her smile faltered. Of course, she did.

“You and Karan are relentless,” she muttered, leaning back against the chair.

“Because we believe in you,” he countered immediately. “And because we know you still love this. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

She exhaled slowly, staring out at the dimming sky. “It’s not that simple, Varun.”

“Yes, it is.” His voice softened. “You were born for this, Ahaana. And you know it. Whatever happened before—”

She stiffened slightly. “Let’s not talk about that.”

There was a pause, as if he was choosing his next words carefully. Then, he sighed. “Fine. But don’t let the past dictate your future. You’re not that person anymore.”

She wanted to believe that. She really did.

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know. And we’re still your people, Ahaana.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. She had spent so long pushing everything away, convincing herself that she didn’t need anyone, that she had forgotten what it felt like to have people who cared. People who wanted her back.

Then, before she could respond, another voice chimed in from the background. “Has she said yes yet?”

Karan Johar.

Ahaana let out a small laugh despite herself. “Karan, are you eavesdropping?”

“I don’t eavesdrop. I supervise.”

Varun snorted. “He’s been pacing for the past ten minutes, by the way. I think he might actually combust if you say no.”

Karan’s voice came through again, a touch more serious this time. “Darling, you’re a star. Stop dimming your own light.”

Ahaana stared at the city skyline, a myriad of thoughts swirling inside her. But for the first time in a long time, the hesitation didn’t feel quite as heavy. Maybe Varun was right. Maybe Karan was right. Maybe it was time to stop running.

She inhaled deeply, a quiet moment of clarity settling over her. Then, she spoke.

“Okay.”

A beat of silence. Then Varun whooped so loudly she had to pull the phone away from her ear. “YES! Ladies and gentlemen, she’s back!”

Karan’s relieved sigh came through the speaker. “Finally. I was this close to staging a full intervention.”

Ahaana laughed, shaking her head. “You two are impossible.”

“And you love us for it,” Varun quipped.

She did. More than she cared to admit.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time to come home.

The gang had game nights far too often then they'd like to admit, Max and Kelly were ofcourse there, Ahaana was there, Carlos and Rebecca joined, Lando somehow always inserted himself in even though everytime he cheated and got himself uninvited. Even Alex Albon and Lily joined them from time to time, but couldn't make it this time and Charles was with them for the first time ever.

The night was young, but the energy in the room felt like the start of a Grand Prix itself—fast, loud, and filled with the potential for absolute disaster. The gang had gathered in Max’s hotel suite for a game night, and true to form, it had already descended into chaos.

“I’m telling you, Lando cheats,” Ahaana declared, pointing an accusatory finger at him as he smirked from his spot on the couch. “There is no way you won that round fairly.”

Lando, lounging back with all the ease of someone who had just scammed his way into victory, dramatically placed a hand on his chest. “How dare you? I am an honest man.”

“Honest, my foot,” Kelly interjected, shaking her head. “Even Charles saw it, didn’t you?”

Charles, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few minutes, blinked. “Huh?”

“See? He wasn’t even paying attention,” Lando scoffed. “Probably too busy thinking about how free he is now that he’s finally dumped his psychotic ex.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Rebecca, who had been stacking poker chips, froze mid-motion. Max, who had been snickering at Lando’s misfortune, raised a brow. Ahaana, who had been preoccupied trying to figure out how Lando had managed to win five rounds in a row, looked up.

“You finally did it?” Carlos leaned forward, grinning. “You actually told Alex to get lost?”

Charles exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It was not exactly smooth.”

“Of course, it wasn’t,” Max said. “She’s like an overly attached leech.”

Kelly winced. “Oof. Harsh, but fair.”

“I don’t even want to know the details,” Lando said, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Actually, no. I do. Tell us. In detail.”

Charles groaned. “Why are you all like this?”

“Because this is the most entertainment we’ve had all season,” Rebecca quipped. “Now spill.”

Charles rolled his eyes, but he recounted the story of his final conversation with Alex. The room responded accordingly—with gasps, laughter, and a few muttered curses aimed at Alex’s name. When he finished, Ahaana just shook her head, unimpressed.

“She’s delusional,” she said simply. “Absolutely delusional.”

“I would’ve paid money to see her reaction when you told her it was over,” Max admitted, grinning.

Charles smirked. “It was… satisfying.”

“Okay, enough about the she-devil,” Lando said, stretching. “Let’s get back to the game before Ahaana starts accusing me of cheating again.”

“You do cheat,” she said without hesitation.

“I do not—”

“Lando, you have a history of cheating at literally every game we’ve ever played,” Max said, unimpressed.

“I prefer to think of it as strategic improvisation.”

“Strategic bullshit,” Rebecca muttered.

The next hour was filled with absolute mayhem. There was yelling. There was a near-brawl between Carlos and Lando over an Uno reverse card. At some point, Kelly got so frustrated she threw a playing card at Max’s head, which only made him laugh harder. Charles, for the most part, found himself entertained just watching it all unfold.

Ahaana, in particular, seemed to come alive in the chaos. Her laughter was light, effortless, and every time she rolled her eyes at Lando or tossed a witty remark at Max, Charles found himself watching her just a little too long.

“Alright, alright,” Ahaana said, throwing her hands up in surrender after another brutal loss. “I need a break before I throw Lando out the window.”

“Jokes on you,” Lando said. “I’d land gracefully.” To which Max snorted.

Ahaana got up and stretched, and that’s when she casually dropped, “Oh, by the way, I officially start shooting for Jigra in 17 days.”

The room went silent.

“What?” Max was the first to react, blinking.

“You’re actually going back?” Lando added.

Rebecca gasped. “Finally! You’re returning to the big screen!”

Ahaana smiled, a little softer this time. “Yeah. It’s time.”

There was a beat of silence before Max, ever the older brother figure, crossed his arms. “Are you sure?”

She looked at him, understanding the weight behind his question. “I am.”

Max studied her for a long moment, then exhaled. “Alright. If anyone gives you trouble—”

“I know, I know.” She grinned. “I’ll call my attack dog Verstappen.”

He smirked. “Damn right.”

After a long round of jenga and then stuffing their faces in food, the last slice of pizza appeared on the table, and the room instantly went silent, all eyes locked on it.

Ahaana leaned forward, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Well, look who’s in the spotlight now.”

Carlos didn’t miss a beat. “I’ve been eyeing that slice for the last ten minutes.”

“Oh, please,” Ahaana shot back. “You just noticed it now because it’s the last one.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “You’re really gonna fight over pizza? This is an all-time low, even for you.”

“Shut up, Lando,” Carlos grumbled. “It’s mine.”

Max chuckled from the side. “This is gonna be good.”

Ahaana picked up the slice like it was some sort of prized possession. “I’m just saying, I’ve had a long day. So I think I’m entitled to this.”

Carlos shot up from his seat, but Ahaana held the slice just out of reach, her smirk widening. “Nice try.”

Max shook his head, watching the two of them. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve seen all week.”

Ahaana, sensing victory, took a deliberate bite of the pizza. “Too slow, boys.”

Lando leaned back, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

Later that night, after the raucous energy had settled slightly, Charles found himself watching Ahaana from across the room. She was laughing at something Lando had said, her head thrown back, eyes crinkled in amusement. The dim lighting softened her features, casting warm shadows over her skin, making her look almost ethereal.

He didn’t know when it started, this quiet admiration of her. Maybe it was when she first walked into his life with that effortless confidence, like she belonged in every room she entered. Maybe it was when he realized she wasn’t just sharp-tongued but also deeply, frustratingly kind. Or maybe it was moments like this, when she wasn’t doing anything extraordinary—just laughing, existing—and yet, she managed to pull his entire attention like a force of gravity.

There was something in the way she carried herself—unapologetic, bold, yet with an underlying grace that was hard to ignore. She was an enigma, a storm and a lull all at once. And he was starting to realize he liked that about her. A little too much.

“Are you staring at Ahaana?”

Charles nearly choked on his drink. He turned sharply to see Max smirking at him, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“No,” he denied, a little too quickly.

Max hummed, unconvinced. “Sure. And I’m a level headed person when angered.”

Charles groaned. “Can you not?”

Max chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Oh no, mate. I definitely can.”

Across the room, Ahaana caught his gaze, a small, soft smile playing on her lips. Charles smiled back but quickly looked away because he was scared his blush would be way too evident, but the warmth on his face lingered and Ahaana caught it anyway, chuckling a bit at the very handsome man, which Charles heard.

Yeah. He was in trouble.

────୨ৎ────

ᝰ.ᐟ third part! hope you guys like it!

next

────୨ৎ────

tags @seonghwaexile @bookishprophecy @justadesirebel @peterholland04 @bakingpiastries @ricciardosheart @mikefaistgf @sp1rl @charlesgirl16 @leila-030304 @uhcalli @blahblechblah @phobiccneel

comment to be added to taglist

────୨ৎ────

© weekendlusting

────୨ৎ────