𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 | Max Verstappen

I was a joyful yet quiet child back then. Everything changed once I began my teenage years wherein I learned to loose someone and something I believed in. It was a dark moment in my life as an only child I didn’t have anyone to hold upon so I felt I was drowning. Yet here I am surviving all through that lost and pain I felt. Life is full of ups and downs as you can see in my digital portfolio basically. You just have to keep fighting on to live the life you dreamt.

f1 masterlist:

you’ll find all my work on some formula one drivers! enjoy <3

drivers i write about for now: carlos sainz jr, lando norris, charles leclerc, mich schumacher, daniel ricciardo.

lando norris:

moving on.

insecurity.

i'Il protect you.

viral.

noticed. / part 2.

dating scandal.

reunited.

carlos sainz jr.

ice.

she's everything, and he's just ken.

surprise.

dream job.

bro code. / part 2. / part 3.

life saver.

exposed.

icon.

annoyance.

stalker.

gentleman.

charles leclerc.

breaking my heart.

united in grief.

your loss.

happy face.

daniel ricciardo.

starstruck.

you're losing me. / part 2.

just friends, right?

mick schumacher.

soft launch.

+ more drivers to come!

Formula 1 fic recs

(I try to update regularly, some more than others)

Charles Leclerc¹⁶

Lando Norris⁴

Oscar Piastri⁸¹

Carlos Sainz⁵⁵

Max verstappen³³

Fernando Alonso¹⁴

Logan Sargeant²

Daniel Ricciardo³

Lewis Hamiltons⁴⁴

Kevin Magnussen²⁰

Toto wolff

Lance stroll¹⁸

Others soon...

NAVIGATION

𝒲elcome to my blog ୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝟭𝟲 𝟱𝟱 ᰋ

❛ '𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂'𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗂'𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 ❜

𓍯𓂃ᥫ᭡. amélie eighteen, cancer. in love with tate mcrae

୨ৎ NHL

𝒯revor zegras

୨ৎ FORMULA ONE

𝒞harles leclerc

𝒞arlos sainz

ℒando norris

𝒪scar piastri

middle man — arthur leclerc

pairing. arthur leclerc x ferrari driver!fem!reader

summary. you never set out to date your teammate's brother. in fact, it took arthur months just to convince you to go on a single date, but charles' opinion of you hit an all time low after he became aware of your relationship and nothing you did seemed to help mend your previously strong partnership. when charles takes it a step too far, you decide that you’ve had enough of it. 6.7k, 18+

warnings. injury, descriptions of injury, smut, dom/sub dynamic (sub!reader), fingering (fem receiving), impact play, penetrative sex, mirror sex

. . .

The slightest of contact was all it took. That was all it ever took. One second, you were making the overtake for P2, and the next, you were in the wall.

There was barely time to brace. Barely any time to hit the brakes. Reaction time was trained, drilled, conditioned into you until it became second nature. Thank god it was, otherwise, you might not have walked away from this one.

Your ears were ringing when you opened you eyes after impact. Your vision was swimming but you were conscious. You heard the cadence of the question in your ear more than you could actually understand the words being said.

Are you okay? Y/N, are you okay?

You weren't really sure if you were but your mind went to those that were watching the race, your fans, your team, your family, your friends. Arthur. They needed to hear you say that you were okay. The gritty details could come later.

"I'm good. We're good. That was a rough one, huh?"

You're sure that the pain was still evident in your voice. It was unavoidable after however many Gs of force you just withstood in that crash. You turned the engine off, took a moment to center yourself.

You had crashed. You were a Formula One driver. It was the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, the fourth race of your second season with Ferrari after your Haas contract expired two years ago.

Your boyfriend's name was Arthur Leclerc. Privately (and jokingly), you called him Artie because it made him cringe and you thought it was funny. He was your teammate's little brother.

He was the first person to make it to the circuit medical center after you had been loaded into the medical car. He was shaking as he hugged you, not from fear but from restraint, not wanting to hurt you by squeezing you as tightly as he wanted to.

"You are okay? Tell me you are okay."

"I'm fine, baby."

"I could strangle Max Verstappen sometimes. 'Leave the space' must only apply to others."

"Arthur, it's okay. It's just part of the sport."

He looked you over for a moment more before catching your mouth in a searing kiss. It spoke volumes, and you understood exactly what he meant by it.

I deeply respect your love of the sport but I would burn the FIA and the whole world to the ground if it meant keeping you safe.

"I love you," he said when he pulled back.

"Je t'aime," you returned.

That exchange of I love you's in your and Arthur's respective native languages of English and French had been a staple of your relationship since very early on. Your first "I love you" had been in each other's mother tongue. It had stuck ever since.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

“Yes,” you insisted, “A little dizzy, but okay.”

“Dizzy? You did not say you were dizzy.” That was the doctor that had checked you for any signs of a concussion.

You turned to face her. “Yes, but I had—“

You lost your balance as you turned. Your typical coordination escaped you and Arthur had to catch you to stop you from tipping sideways.

The doctor pulled out a phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. You’re going to the hospital.”

“I’m fine—“

“Mon coeur, please sit down,” Arthur urged.

Your calm but obviously worried boyfriend refused to leave your side even when it meant leaving for the hospital before the end of the race. You tried to convince him to stay for his brother but he wasn’t having it.

In the hospital room after you had completed all the precautionary brain scans, Arthur checked his phone.

"Maman is asking about you," he said. "Lorenzo, too."

You both took note of the lack of another of his family member’s text message, but you had grown all too used to it. It was easier not to comment on it.

"Tell them I'm fine."

"I will tell them we are waiting on your test results."

"Don’t worry them. I’m fine, Arthur.”

"We will know that once they have gotten their results."

Arthur had a very convincing poker face but this needless argument showed how concerned he truly was. He kept worrying his bottom lip between his teeth whenever he thought you weren’t looking.

You tugged on your intertwined hands to pull him closer. “Hey. I’ll be fine. It’s probably just a concussion.”

“You cannot know.”

“Then, call it positive thinking.”

Before anything more could be said, the doctor returned with the results of your tests.

You were okay, only a concussion as you had thought. You had a fair amount of bruising and a bit of whiplash to commemorate one of the worst crashes of your career but other than that, you seemed fine.

They still wanted to keep you overnight for observation but you should recover in a timely fashion.

When the doctor left, you only had time to shoot Arthur an “I told you so” look before his phone started ringing. The caller ID showed his second eldest brother’s name.

He answered in French, a language you knew almost fluently after living in Monaco since your rookie season. You had really buckled down to learn the language after beginning to date Arthur.

“Hello? ... I am at the hospital with Y/N. … I know but congratulations on third. Sorry I missed the celebrations.”

You couldn’t hear what Charles was saying, only your boyfriend’s responses. It was now over two hours since the end of the race. Charles must have only just gotten time to call Arthur.

“I know I am, but Y/N was dizzy and the doctor was concerned and I couldn’t just leave her. … She is part of Ferrari, too. I have a duty to both her and the team. … I was not needed at the garage. … And I said I’m sorry I missed your podium but I wasn’t going to leave her alone. What if something happened?”

You sunk back into your hospital bed. They were fighting again. Because of you.

You and Charles had been rookies together back in 2018. You had started your F1 career at Williams before moving through Haas to where you were now, your second year at Ferrari.

You were a handful of years younger than Charles and he had always treated you like a little sister. When you got the Ferrari contract, Charles was over the moon. You remember him going on a half hour tangent about how much fun it would be having you as a teammate, how excited he was for the next two years.

Charles adored you. At least, he used to, before you and Arthur told him you had started seeing each other.

Since then, Ferrari has been a minefield.

Charles was distant and cold. He stopped sending TikToks and stopped laughing at your memes. He unfollowed you on Instagram for about a week before the Ferrari PR team made him follow you again.

The PR department was working well past overtime thanks to you and Charles. You had learned not to try and approach him even when there were cameras around because he would continue to ignore you and it would further fuel the drama mill.

You missed your friend. You missed the fun you two had last year as teammates.

Now, you were with Arthur. And you loved him. And he made you so happy. But you missed being able to talk to Charles without him looking at you like you were the gum on the bottom of his shoe.

Arthur’s voice had gotten sharper the longer he spoke to Charles. “Not that you bothered to ask but Y/N is fine, by the way. We had to go to the hospital to scan her brain and make sure but she would be. Not like you’d care.”

Arthur hung up and tossed his phone onto a table where he couldn’t reach it. You reached out for his hand and he took it, kissing your knuckles and sighing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

“Do not apologize. This is not your fault.”

“It feels like it is.”

“It is not. It is Charles being impossible for no reason. Before we were dating, he—“

He adored you. He called you mon ange. He praised your driving any time he could. He invited you to dinners with his family, which was how you got to know Arthur outside of racing.

Now, Charles couldn’t stand the sight of you. It hurt, you weren’t going to lie. Charles was your teammate and friend, but more importantly, he was Arthur’s brother.

You didn’t feel it was your place to try and close the gap gouged between you and Charles, not when he was Arthur’s family. You didn’t want to complicate things further, didn’t want to try and repair your friendship before the bond between brothers was mended.

“Maybe…”

You lacked the confidence to continue your thought. You didn’t want to suggest what you were about to, even if it could potentially fix everything.

You were selfish when it came to Arthur. You didn’t like sharing him and you especially didn’t want to let him go.

“What?” Arthur asked.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

“What? No? No. Why? No. Why would you want to—? Have I done something wrong? Why would you say that?”

You were quick to reassure him. “No, no, no, baby, it’s not that. I was just thinking that it might be a good idea to take a bit of time and come back to this in the off season. When Charles can separate me as your girlfriend from me as his teammate.”

“No,” he insisted. “No. I do not want him to ruin this any more than he already has. I do not want to take a break.”

“Okay. That’s okay. It was just a suggestion.” One that you were thankful Arthur objected to so vehemently.

“It is a dumb suggestion. I do not want a break. I will never want a break from you.”

“Okay.”

You let him lean in and kiss you. It seemed that Arthur was selfish with you, as well.

.

You were no stranger to Charles Leclerc’s yacht. You had spent many nights attending parties hosted by your friend on his impressive vessel and even more days lounging around or exploring islands along the Monaco coast.

But ever since Charles found out about you and Arthur, you hadn’t been invited back. Until the weekend between races, a week after your crash.

And you hadn’t exactly been invited, it was more that Charles had been told by his mother that you would be spending the day with the family and there was no getting out of it. Though, as the day stretched on and tensions grew higher, you were really wishing that you were the one who could have gotten out of going.

Your concussion wasn’t as severe as originally feared. Your ribs were still tender and the skin of your torso bruised but you were set to race at Miami next week as long as your checkup in a few days went well.

Arthur sat down beside you on the large daybed you had taken to reading on. It was shaded and secluded enough to be comfortable but not so far from the main seating area that you couldn’t easily rejoin the larger group. It was where you had usually set up camp whenever aboard Charles’ yacht.

Your boyfriend handed you the fizzy, non-alcoholic beverage you had requested. He accepted a kiss as gratuity.

“What are you reading?”

“One of those spicy fantasy novels you make fun of me for.”

“Oh, the porn books.”

“They’re not porn books!”

Arthur just laughed because he liked teasing you. He laid his head in your lap. You, of course, let him because you were not actually upset.

You smoothed the hair off his forehead lovingly.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not hurting?”

“No. I’ve been doing my stretches and using bruise cream. I’ll be right as rain next weekend.”

Arthur seemed pleased with that answer. “Will you read to me?”

You regarded the content on the page you were open to. “I’m not exactly at a publicly appropriate chapter.”

“Am I not a better option than ink on paper?”

“You are not always readily available.”

“You are far more busy than me. You are always away from me.”

“Exactly. I need something to do with all my free time in my hotel room. All alone. Just me. And my hands all over… my latest smutty book.”

“You kill me, woman,” Arthur groaned, sitting up to kiss you.

You let out a peel of laughter when Arthur pushed you onto your back. You two were not in the habit of making your close friends and family uncomfortable with excessive PDA, so Arthur abandoned kissing you to pin you down, gentle and conscientious of your torso.

“Okay! Okay, you’re better!”

Arthur leaned down over you. “Better than what?”

“You’re better than my books.”

“Good.”

He kissed you, then wiggled his fingers against your neck to make you shriek.

“Arthur, Y/N. Come eat!” Pascale called the two of you over to the group.

Arthur helped you sit up, then held out a hand to help you down the steps to the deck below because god forbid you take the three stairs on your own. You didn’t mind; you liked that he wanted to help you, even with things you didn’t need him for.

You smiled at Arthur, able to forget about the Leclerc civil war for a moment. Then, you turned toward where everyone else was sitting in the main seating area.

Charles was glaring daggers.

Your stomach dropped. You pulled your hand free from Arthur’s to fix your hair then didn’t take it again when you were done.

Arthur looked at you odd, noticed where you were glancing. He glared back just as hard at his older brother.

“Arthur,” you muttered in reproach.

“If maman was not here, I swear I would smack him across the face.”

“Arthur, please.”

After the race in Azerbaijan was over, after podium celebrations and post-race interviews, Charles had spoken a little too loudly about how it was your fault that you had crashed, that it was what happened when you "still drive like a rookie five years into your career."

The video that some random clubgoer had managed to capture of your teammate badmouthing you while you spent the night in the hospital for observation had gone more than a little viral.

To hear him talk about you like that just made you sad. You didn't have the energy to be mad over it.

Arthur did not share those feelings. When he first saw the video, it was everything you could do to keep Arthur from charging halfway across Monaco to kick his brother's door in. Instead, you anxiously sat on the couch in your living room as he and his brother shouted at each other over the phone.

If it wasn't for Pascale's not at all subtle attempts to get her boys to make up, you and Arthur never would have come today. But she was your boyfriend's mother. She would not accept a refusal of her invitation for today.

You ended up sat beside Arthur and about as far from Charles as possible as sandwiches and chips were passed around. You kept making eye contact with Pascale, awkwardly smiling whenever you did before glancing away.

"Charles, do you have any more wine on this boat?" Pascale asked.

Charles stood. "I'll go get some."

"Arthur, why don't you help your brother?"

You held your breath. You truly admired the balls on that woman, and the unapologetically obvious pursuit of making her sons make up. When you glanced at Arthur, almost hopeful, you saw the dark edge to his gaze as he looked at his brother; he was still too angry to be left alone with Charles.

You didn't believe Arthur would actually slap or physically harm Charles in any way but things would not be made better by Arthur confronting his brother right now.

"I'll help," you said before Arthur had to respond. "Lead the way, Charlie."

You false enthusiasm shriveled into nothingness by the time you reached the stairs down to the bar. You trailed after him below deck, staying several paces behind.

Charles was silent as he began opening cupboards. He hadn't so much as looked at you when you took his younger brother's place in assisting him.

"Charles, I—"

"I do not want to hear it, Y/N."

You swallowed around the nervousness trying to clog up your throat. "Are you ever going to let me explain?"

"There is nothing to explain. You are my teammate. Arthur is my brother. You both go behind my back to start dating each other and do not care of what it will affect."

"Believe me, we've talked about it. At length. We know it's a risk."

"And you do not care," Charles concluded, ducking down below the bar and out of view as he continued his search.

"No, we decided it was worth it." You took a breath. "I don't know how to talk about how in love with your brother I am without making you uncomfortable but if I had to choose between him and racing, I would hesitate."

That statement may not sound all that impressive but Charles had once said to you—after many, many drinks following a successful race weekend for Ferrari—that he would know he truly loved a woman if when he had to choose between her and never racing again, he hesitated.

As a fellow driver, you understood exactly what he meant. That was what you felt for Arthur. That was what the youngest Leclerc meant to you. That was how hopelessly in love you were.

"I love Arthur, I really do. And I know it's messy and complicated and whatever else but I don't care about that. At the end of the day, I am happier with Arthur than I have been in a really long time."

Charles was silent behind the bar. He was still ducked down. It felt like you were monologuing to an empty room. It made it a little easier to continue.

"While I am willing to put a little strain on my career for my relationship, what I have never wanted to put strain on is your relationship with your brother. I never wanted anything like this to happen.

“I never wanted to go behind your back. I never would have pursued my feelings for Arthur if he hadn’t been so persistent but he wore me down and I couldn’t tell him no.

“I am truly sorry for breaking your trust. But I cannot stop loving your brother. I will not let him go just because you cannot accept us, despite all the difficulties it may come with.”

Two bottles of wine appeared on the bar top just before Charles stood upright again. He still would not look at you.

"If you can't forgive me for pursuing a member of your family, that's fine. I understand. But Arthur is your little brother; do not throw that away because of me.

"Hate me. Be mad at me. Ignore me on media days. Unfollow all my socials. Make the entire world think you despise me. I don't care; just don't take it out on Arthur.

"I am not worth you two falling out."

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Charles finally looked you in the eye. You held his gaze, imploring him to listen to what you were saying.

His expression did not change the longer he surveyed you. Then, he took the bottles of wine, walked right past you without another word, and went back above deck.

.

"That is it?" Arthur asked as you recounted the events to him later that night.

He was sat on the lid of the toilet as you washed your face before you two were going to settle in to watch a movie.

"Then, I told him I'm not worth you two falling out over and he walked away. Without a word. Just back up the stairs and that was that."

"You are."

"Are what?"

"Worth falling out over."

You sighed. "Arthur—"

"You are. I am serious."

"Arthur, I'm not going anywhere. You don’t have to choose between me and Charles; I don’t want you to.”

“I am not losing you because of him.”

“I’m not asking you to compromise. I’m not letting you go because of Charles, either, but we have to try and make this work. He’s your brother. That has to mean something to you.”

“He is being unreasonable.”

“Have you even tried to talk to him about it? Or have you just been pretending nothing’s changed?”

“Nothing has changed," he said stubbornly.

“Okay, that's one of the problems."

"It should not matter that we're dating."

"No, it should. And it does. I'm dating my teammate's brother; that is going to change some things. You do recall the HR meeting all of us had to suffer through, don't you?"

Shortly after telling Charles of your relationship, you and Arthur had gone to Ferrari to make them aware as well. There had been no major backlash from the team but there had been a several-hours-long meeting with HR and PR that you, Arthur, and Charles all had to be present for.

Arthur physically shuddered at the memory. "Do not remind me."

"Us being together changes things. You cannot ignore it and hope everything will blow over."

"He hasn't even apologized to you."

"Worry about me later. Fix your relationship with your brother before it's too late."

"Y/N, you are not understanding. I cannot fix my relationship with Charles if he is going to speak of you like he did in that video. If he is going to treat you like he has been, nothing is going to be fixed."

"He's your brother—"

"And you are l'amour de ma vie. I do not care that he is my brother; I will not tolerate anyone speaking of you in such a way. I cannot remove you from the situation. I cannot make up with him until he stops treating you horrible.”

You had not realized Arthur’s view on the whole situation. You supposed it made sense now that you thought about it.

Charles was generally being mean to you, not his brother. When the two youngest Leclercs argued, it was over you. Charles seemed convinced that you would never prioritize Arthur or his career over yourself or your own.

True, you would never give up your seat for Arthur, but you wouldn’t do that for anyone. Should the time ever come where Arthur got an F1 seat, you would never give him anything; he would have to work just as hard as anyone else to race against you. That was racing.

You do not think that Charles meant anything to that extreme of a degree. He perhaps meant that Arthur would seldom be prioritized in place of a career in F1, period, but you and Arthur were on the same page about that.

You had spoken in length about it. You had laid everything on the table a few months into your relationship and spoke about it all until you reached a true and total understanding.

And Charles… Well, Charles would always see Arthur as his baby brother, as someone to protect, as someone who is young and unknowing of the world even if he was snugly into his twenties.

“You need to speak to him. Really speak to him. Talk everything through.”

“He needs to apologize, first. Then, and only then, will I talk things out.”

“You are. So. Stubborn,” you growled at him, jokingly pretending to choke him in your frustration.

“If I was not, how would I keep you in check?”

He slid his hand right up under your oversized sleep shirt to hold your core in his palm. Your freshly washed face went a little pink.

“I don’t need to be kept in check,” you said indignantly.

“Don’t you? You always seem to find some way to misbehave and then I have to punish you for it. You know how I hate to punish you.”

“Don't lie. You love my punishments as much as I do.”

He rubbed his hand over the cloth of your panties, pushed his fingers between your closed thighs to prod over the fabric at where you had already started to ache for him. It took so little to get you worked up, just a few touches and some dirty words and you were ready to melt into any mold Arthur wanted.

“Backtalk.” He clicked his tongue at you. “Already misbehaving.”

“I’m debating my point. That is not misbehaving. You’re just being mean.”

“Keep talking and I can show you how mean I can be.”

“That’s not fair—“

You didn’t get to finish your thought before Arthur stood and pushed you against the bathroom counter. Your thighs dug into the edge of the counter as Arthur pressed against your back, hips nestled into the soft curve of your ass.

“Arthur—"

"Hm?"

He slowly slid your hair out of the way. The collar of your ancient sleep shirt was easily stretched to the side so Arthur could kiss the bare skin of his shoulder. His teeth bit into the curve of your neck just enough to feel but not hurt.

You whined, pushed your hips back into him. "Don't tease."

He slid a hand up to your neck, met your eye in the mirror. "Be patient."

He held you there until you nodded your understanding. Only then did he hitch the back of your shirt up to slip his hand inside your panties from behind.

He grabbed a handful of your ass. You exhaled a soft moan.

You hadn't been intimate since the Monday before the Azerbaijan GP, meaning it was pushing two weeks since Arthur had touched you. You were ready to fall apart and he hadn't even really touched you yet.

"Arthur, s'il te plaît."

In the mirror, you could see him smirk at your French. He had told you before that he liked when you spoke to him in French, that he thought your accent was cute.

You knew it was a totally indulgent way to get what you wanted but you didn't care; it worked. His fingers slid between your folds, feeling how slick and ready you were for him.

He cursed into your shoulder, slipping into French to say, "So wet for me—fuck, Y/N."

"Want you, baby. Please."

"Want me? Want me where?"

"Inside me."

"So lewd, mon coeur," he teased. "You're so needy tonight."

"You started it."

"And I will stop it if you are not grateful for what I am giving you."

He pulled his hand out of your underwear and you whined. You reached back to slide a hand into his hair.

"No, please, I'm sorry. Please, don't stop."

Arthur huffed out a laugh. "I will take care of you. You do not need to beg."

He pulled your panties down until you could kick them off to the side. He gently ran a hand over your stomach and ribs. Arthur was always conscientious of you, especially when you were injured.

"Can you bend over for me?"

You did so immediately, elbows coming to rest on the sink counter. Your shirt slid up off your hips to hang loosely around your waist. You felt your arousal hit the air in the bathroom, the chill making you shift your hips.

"So good for me. My good girl."

You could cry from the praise and the fact that his fingers still were not inside of you that exact second. You were embarrassingly worked up.

Arthur seemed to take pity on you, circling his thumb on your clit a few times before slipping a finger into you. Just one was nowhere near enough to fill you up but you dropped your head onto your arms and moaned.

He kissed your backside, knelt down behind you. "So noisy, amour."

Any snarky response you may have had died in your throat when he pressed a second finger into you. That was enough for a bit of a stretch that had you pushing your hips back against his hand.

"Stay still," Arthur warned.

You really did try to listen to him but after slowly scissoring you open with two fingers, he introduced a third and started really finger fucking you. You pressed your forehead against the counter, not able to stop yourself from pushing back into him again, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, searching for something that would stretch you further, reach deeper into you.

He pulled his fingers out of you. Your whine was cut short when he slapped your bared cunt with the same soaked fingers that were just inside of you.

"You are so fucking impatient."

"Just want you."

"Yeah? You want me so bad you cannot even stay still and let me stretch you out? You want to be torn open by my cock?"

You whimpered. That was exactly what you wanted.

He slapped your pussy again. "Huh? Is that what you want?"

You raised your head just enough to be able to watch as Arthur pushed his shorts down. You couldn't see as he pulled his cock free with him stood behind you but you definitely felt it when he pressed his tip against your prepped entrance.

"Oh, fuck—"

He entered you in a swift motion. You choked around a moan.

He was gentle with his arms as he pulled you back against him but ruthless with his hips as he fucked into you without relent. He didn’t press on your bruised torso but he did get a hand around your throat to make you watch yourself in the mirror.

Your dynamic was like this. He was in charge and you loved that. He could hit you, fuck you hard, have you screaming, begging, crying, but where it truly mattered, he would always be gentle with you. His dominance was not just for him; he was always cognizant of your current state and how you were feeling in the moment.

“Arthur.” You breathed his name like a moan, like a prayer.

He kissed your neck, then your cheek. “So good for me.”

Arthur set the pace slow and deep. You could feel him nudging your cervix, stretching you open, the tug of your walls against his cock making you ache for him even more. You were a moaning mess for him in mere moments.

He coaxed you through your first orgasm like that, fucking you slowly from behind as you watched yourselves in the bathroom mirror, his hand between your thighs to push you along. Your legs shook and Arthur held you upright as he kept the torturous pace all the way through your climax.

“You have a bit more in you, amour. Yes?” he asked, still moving his hips as the continued stimulation was making you squirm.

You felt you could barely catch your breath but you nodded anyway. “Yes.”

Arthur hummed, pleased. “Good girl. Bend over.”

If your first orgasm was for you, the second was surely for Arthur. Sex was always a game of give and take with him. Though, even when he was taking, you were always being given so much.

As soon as he had you bent over again, he gripped your hips, adjusted his own, then started fucking into you fast and hard. You grabbed onto the counter to steady yourself, let your head drop onto the quartz as you went pliant and easy.

You were shaking from the overstimulation, from not getting a break between your first high and the second that Arthur was making you chase.

“Come on, amour. Come on.”

His pace was just uneven enough for you to become aware that he was definitely close. He was waiting for you.

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing out another wave of pleasure that had you trembling against the counter. Your head felt light, legs literally giving out and you would have fallen to your knees if Arthur wasn’t still gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, strong arming you into staying on your feet.

You cried his name and your body went slack. Arthur fucked you through your second high and past it, stroked himself out with your body and buried himself deep inside of you as he came.

You mewled at the feeling, at the depth and the spurting warmth. Arthur smoothed a hand up your spine to soothe you. He whispered praises and pressed kisses into your skin until you came back to Earth, getting your legs back underneath you.

"Welcome back, mon coeur."

You could hear the proud grin in his words but could only give a weak groan in response as you pushed yourself upright. Arthur helped you up, then sat you on the bathroom counter and kissed you sweetly before setting to cleaning you up.

He scooped you up into his arms once you were clean and dressed to carry you out to the living room.

"I can still walk," you told him but still happily wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, leaning against his chest.

"I'll have to do better next time, then."

Arthur set you on the couch. He told you to stay as he bustled around getting popcorn and drinks ready.

"What do you want to watch?" you asked.

"Whatever you want."

"Don't give me that kind of power," you mumbled to yourself.

You didn't giving in to the temptation to queue up some cringeworthy romcom you know Arthur would hate. He had given you enough tonight. You could be nice about the movie choice.

You made it through maybe half of the movie (some new Netflix film you thought looked decent) when there was a knock at the door. It was a soft noise, almost hesitant.

You shared a look with your boyfriend before you both checked your phones to make sure you hadn't missed a text from someone letting you know they were on their way over. You both came up blank.

Despite it being your apartment, Arthur pushed you down when you went to stand and ran to answer the door himself. You couldn't quite see the door from the couch, so you strained your ears to listen.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked, not quite unkindly but certainly not happy.

"I went to maman's. You were not there."

Charles. Why had he showed up at your door unannounced this late in the evening?

"I've been staying with Y/N most of the time."

Silence followed. It was painful just eavesdropping on the two brothers. You nearly got to your feet to approach them and attempt to mediate but Arthur beat you to it.

"What do you want, Charles?"

More silence. You don't think you were breathing, scared if you made yourself known it would ruin whatever was about to happen.

"I wanted to apologize," Charles eventually said.

"Apologize?"

You bit your cheek to stop from screeching with joy. Finally—finally! You were so ready for this whole thing to be over with. Even if it took some subtle guilt tripping on your part, you were more than pleased at the outcome.

"For how I've been treating you since you told me about you and Y/N. Is she here?"

"Yes."

"Yes, well, it is her apartment, no?" Charles tried for a weak laugh but Arthur did not take mercy and join him. "Er, well... I—I shouldn't have been so quick to judge you two. I was upset, at first, that you had hidden it from me.

"I forget that you are an adult and you have pursued your own career and you do not need protecting from people who might try to take advantage of you—not that I believe Y/N would do such a thing!"

You cringed. This could go downhill really fast considering Arthur's protective streak over you.

"Yes, I am an adult. How you feel will not dictate my relationship. But how you treat Y/N will dictate my relationship with you. How can you speak of her like you have? She has been your friend for so long."

"I know what it has been like for you to constantly be compared to me. I know it has been difficult for you and I have become paranoid in my fame that someone will use the people I care about to get to me."

"That is ridiculous. Y/N is just as well-known as you, if not more. And she knew you before she knew me—how does any of this make sense, Charles?"

Arthur had a point but you could understand where Charles was coming from. It was always a fear in your own mind that something may happen to or someone might try to take advantage of your family or your friends because they were in connection with you.

"It doesn't," Charles admitted. "It doesn't make any sense. I was being stupid. I assumed the worst—thought Y/N was using you to mess with my head—and refused to see it any other way and I never should have treated Y/N as I have been or said what I have about her.

"She is one of the most talented drivers I have ever driven alongside. She is the kindest person I know. She has been my friend for years longer than she has been dating you. I should not have let my judgement be so clouded by my own fear.

"I am sorry, Arthur. And if Y/N is here, I would like to apologize to her, as well."

It was quiet for several moments. You waited in silence, still holding your breath. Had you breathed at all since Charles started apologizing? Was Arthur going to say anything? Was he just standing there?

There was the rustle of fabric followed by the telltale sighs of relief that accompanied a much needed hug. You exhaled and slumped back against the couch. Thank God.

It was long overdue that the youngest Leclercs made up. Thankfully, Charles knew his brother well enough to know that you must also be apologized to if things were ever going to get better.

"Y/N?" Arthur called.

You suddenly remembered that you had been eavesdropping the whole time. Charles had no idea you were just around the corner in your living room. You had heard the entirety of Charles' apology, even the things not meant for your ears.

You cleared your throat. "Yes?"

"Do you think Charles should be forgiven?"

You laughed and went to join the brothers in the foyer. "I absolutely do. Do I get a hug, too?"

Charles' face was red but he seemed to find the humor in the situation, too. He opened his arms for you and wrapped you in a tight embrace.

"I am sorry, Y/N. I know you would never purposefully try to hurt me or my brother. I was rash in my understanding of the situation."

"It's okay, Charlie. I just missed my friend."

"I'm sorry." Charles squeezed you tight once more before letting you go.

When you stepped back into Arthur, he let his arm slip around your waist. He kissed the side of your head. You leaned into him, too pleased with the outcome of tonight to fret much over PDA in front of Charles.

For the first time, Charles didn't seem deeply disturbed by your affection. However, he did sigh faux irritably.

"You two are way too cute together. It was so difficult to be mad at you sometimes."

You and Arthur laughed.

"I am serious! You should see yourselves."

Despite knowing it was an inappropriate train of thought to entertain in front of your boyfriend's brother, you couldn't help but think back to just about an hour ago and how you had watched yourselves through the bathroom mirror.

"Oh, we have," Arthur said, innuendo lost on his brother but not on you.

You smacked him in the chest. Arthur just laughed. Luckily, Charles seemed none the wiser.

I Was Actually Rooting For You

: Part 16 (Lando's Version)

: Dares come with a lot of consequences, and Lando’s gotta pay the price

: Prev | Next

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

…

Kika made her way up the stairs, carrying a huge blanket and a bag full of Y/n's favorite snacks. Just as she turned the corner towards her apartment door, she froze in her tracks. There, next to the door, sat Lando Norris in the same clothes he had worn to the spring fling. His eyes looked red, as if he had been crying, which made Kika scoff. How ironic it was that he was the one crying.

Hearing some rustling, Lando looked up and saw Kika standing near the staircase. As soon as he saw her, he sprang to his feet.

"Kika I-" He started.

"It's Francisca, my name is Francisca," She cut him off.

"Umm right...Francisca. I need to talk to Y/n. I have to explain her my side of the story. Could you plea-"

"You have some nerve thinking I would convince her to talk to you," Kika seethed.

She continued, "And what do you even mean by 'your side of the story'? What more could you possibly have to say? And to think I was actually rooting for you." Kika shoved past him, feeling more grateful than ever for having a key to Y/n's apartment. She couldn't imagine what would have happened if Y/n opened the door for her instead.

…

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When The Dust Settles - Arthur Leclerc x Ricciardo! Reader

Summary: Arthur and Yn have been competing for years to be known as the best sibling on the F1 Grid. When the highs of the sport wear off, they realise that nobody can empathise with them better than each other. 

Warnings: Danny Ric’s exit. Swearing. Frenemies to lovers.

Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me

F1 Masterlist

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yn_ricc just posted

liked by lilymhe, enchante and others 

yn_ricc when your brother gives you free clothes and then pays you to wear them? i think i like this little life

3,164 comments

danielricciardo i didn’t pay you to post your underwear online! cover up

→ yn_ricc omg stop embarrassing me or i’ll tell mum! i’m trying to be supportive of your business venture 

→ user these two are my favourite grid siblings, i swear 

arthur_leclerc yeah, well me and my brother have matching ambassadorships 

→ yn_ricc okay, and..? you don’t look as hot as i do when modelling it 

alexandrasaintmleux pretty girl 

→ user i love how yn actively terrorises alex’s brother in law but she still stans her 

user for someone who claims to hate her, arthur liked this within 2 mins of it being posted 

landonorris why hello there

→ danielricciardo no

→ landonorris but she looks hot! 

→ arthur_leclerc you don’t want all of that. trust me

→ yn_ricc can’t a girl decide for herself

→ arthur_leclerc you’re not a girl

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arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by scuderiaferrari, lorenzotl and others 

arthur_leclerc what a special moment, couldn’t be prouder 

2,916 comments 

yn_ricc my brother did it first 

→ user oh that’s cold 

→ user love how she congratulated charles on his post but says this on arthur’s 

→ user gotta let everyone know she’s the better sibling 

scuderiaferrari okay but the hair ruffle was our favourite moment

charles_leclerc my brother! we did it! we won monaco! 

→ arthur_leclerc YOU won monaco! je suis si fier de toi

yn_ricc also, why are you using that poor puppy for a thirst trap. put your chest away. it’s nothing special 

→ arthur_leclerc i ignored you once. stop trying to get my attention. i’m busy celebrating my brother 

→ arthur_leclerc and i’ve been told i have a very nice chest! 

→ user oo someone took that personally 

user these siblings have my heart

→ yn_ricc did they kidnap it?

→ user miss girl saw all the comments praising the affectionate moment between charles and arthur and decided to go on a rampage 

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f1 just posted

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and others

f1 when you’re in a “who’s the best f1 sibling” but these are your opponents 

3,020 comments 

yn_ricc @/arthur_leclerc see how i’m first. again

→ arthur_leclerc how do i dislike a post?

user no see because yn is the better sibling. arthur is simply posting with a poster of a handsome man whereas she’s wearing a jumper of her brother’s most disgusting moment

→ yn_ricc you tell ‘em, babe

user arthur is defo the better sibling. he attends more races and he’s always in team merch

→ yn_ricc that’s because arthur doesn’t have a life

→ yn_ricc and since he left red bull, daniel doesn’t have good team gear. sorry but you wouldn’t have caught me dead in orange

→ landonorris it’s papaya! 

→ yn_ricc it’s disgusting! 

→ arthur_leclerc see, internet people. this is why i am better

user omg little arthur and yn karting 

→ user i love how he’s waving the flag around and she’s telling him off

→ yn_ricc he wouldn’t accept that i won

→ arthur_leclerc we crossed the line at the same time! 

→ yn_ricc yet my lap time was faster! 

danielricciardo that race was the bane of my existence for a whole year after. why would you remind me of it

→ charles_leclerc he complained about that race for ages. i cannot believe we have to listen to the same argument again

→ yn_ricc calm down, charles. it was just an inchident 

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yn_ricc just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

yn_ricc i’ve grown up watching you love this sport. i’ve grown up supporting you, even when you were on teams i didn’t support. my big brother, my biggest idol. you have done so much to be proud of. don’t let anyone take that away from you. i love you more than all the butterflies (but i can’t deny that i’ll be pleased if i never have to watch you do a shoey again) 🦋🩵

16,333 comments

danielricciardo 💙

→ user the fact that she’s the only person he replied to. the ricciardo siblings mean everything to me

user @/arthur_leclerc you can’t compete with that

→ arthur_leclerc damn

user she really is the most supportive sibling 

→ arthur_leclerc i am right here

→ user this isn’t about you right now

lilymhe he’ll be missed so much, and so will you

alexandrasaintmleux i think you need a pick-me up brunch tomorrow. my treat

→ yn_ricc you might have to drag me out of bed first 

francisca.cgomes oh beautiful yn. we will miss you sorely. i hope you find a reason to make it back into the paddock some time

→ yn_ricc don’t worry, kiks. i’ll be visiting you all the time so see sweet simba 

user the fact that arthur hasn’t bullied her and she hasn’t replied to any of his comments show how serious this is. girly is heartbroken for her brother 

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yn_ricc just posted

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yn_ricc so what do normal people do with their sundays? need some ideas now that i’m dealing with unemployment, lost my job as best grid sibling

3,344 comments

arthur_leclerc you never had that title!

→ yn_ricc stay delusional, king 

user um, looks like you have that sorted actually 

alexandrasaintmleux i quite like a shopping trip, if you wanted some company 

→ arthur_leclerc you’re supposed to be on my side in this war?? 

→ yn_ricc yes but she likes me more. and so does charles!

→ user out of pocket! 

→ charles_leclerc ☕️☕️

user a man! 

danielricciardo thank you for taking my loss so seriously 

→ yn_ricc i made you an unemployment cake. how much more serious do you want? 

→ arthur_leclerc and this is why i’m the better sibling. when charles lost monaco last year, i bought out a nightclub for the weekend

→ yn_ricc alcohol poisoning is not the answer. you’re a bad brother who tried to bump him off

landonorris okay but that smoothie looks like it’s about to spill all over your white stuff 

→ user lando fearing the same thing we are

→ arthur_leclerc i hope it does

user i love how since arthur has had confirmation that yn is okay after the news daniel was leaving, he’s back on his bullshit 

arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and others

arthur_leclerc celebrating my undefeated win as best grid sibling 

2,755 comments 

yn_ricc 🖕🏻🖕🏻

→ user do the pair of you have each other’s notifs on? how are you so quick

→ yn_ricc spite fuels us

user is that a woman? why is no one else freaking out about this

→ yn_ricc because he paid her to be in his pics

→ arthur_leclerc just because you do that, doesn’t mean everyone else does

user omg arthur on a date?

user okay but arthur and yn both posting a soft launch on the same day?? i've connected the two dots

→ user you didn't connect shit

user i wonder how she’ll feel about the relationship between arthur and yn

→ user no because he literally used their soft launch as a way to make a jab at yn

→ user what relationship. they’re age old rivals

→ user i’m just saying, to spend as much time thinking about the other as they do, there has to be something more there

charles_leclerc my little brother is growing up

→ yn_ricc *growing older. i don’t think it’s possible for him to grow up

→ arthur_leclerc says the person responding to every comment under my post 

→ yn_ricc responds the person who posted a soft launch for clout

→ arthur_leclerc you did it first!

→ yn_ricc then you’re a copycat. i knew you just wanted to be me

alexandrasaintmleux what a beautiful picnic

danielricciardo are those flowers for me? little leclerc, you shouldn’t have

→ user ariana what are you doing here?

danielricciardo just posted

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and others 

daniel_ricciardo family dinner 

7,163 comments

user daniel really decided he’d had enough of these two and decided to announce they were shagging

→ danielricciardo ew. i didn’t think that when i posted this

maxverstappen1 and i wasn’t invited? 

user i had to double check the username ‘cause what do you mean, daniel is having dinner with the leclerc family

charles_leclerc i think daniel and i deserve the best sibling award for putting up with you two and your longing all these years 

→ danielricciardo wdc winners in putting up with them

→ yn_ricc @/arthur_leclerc ha you had a crush on me! sucker

→ arthur_leclerc you were literally crying on facetime last night because you missed me

→ yn_ricc well that feeling faded fast

user daniel outing their relationship looks like it’ll be the end of their relationship 

user they told me i was crazy! i said all along there was more to their competition than banter

landonorris but when i wanted to date her, you chased me around the mtc with a shoe

→ danielricciardo yeah, well that’s because it was you 

→ yn_ricc but you approve of arthur? like, seriously, arthur? 

→ arthur_leclerc i have feelings

user lost a seat but gained a brother in law

→ yn_ricc i’d rather he have the seat 

→ user nice to see that dating arthur doesn’t stop the bullying

→ arthur_leclerc never 

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SMAU requests open

So many people voted for sibling rivalry AND for reader being charles’ pr manager so i might have to plan that one as well 😂

Tag list 

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius

DEAR READER | C.L 16 (TWO)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc X Female OC

Warnings: Physical injury (that’s it, i think)

NOTES: I’m on fire for updating so quickly !!!

If you want to be included on the tag list, please let me know!

PREVIOUS PART/S: ONE

THE BRIGHTNESS OF HER phone burned her irises. Without regard, she swiped her thumb up the screen to read more of the incessant article Charles had shown her. Her forehead creased at the words written but the smirk pulling on her lips said otherwise. Ridicule from the public was nothing new to her. She had been experiencing it since she was caught driving one of Susie’s cars by a tourist in Monaco.

To Natalia’s outmost dismay, the photo spread like a virus. Next thing she knew, countless of rumors were surrounding the internet. It was indeed a difficult time for a collage student like her. Locking herself in her dorm room was not an exaggeration considering the whispers and looks she’d receive when she would walk down the hall.

For a solid 2 weeks, people saw her as, and she recalls this with a nauseating feeling; Toto Wolff’s side piece.

Ultimately it died down after she had given in to Toto’s demands to let him put out a statement. Since then, the issue had been resolved, much to her delight.

“Are you planning to cook your eyes?”

She waved her hand, signaling for him to keep his eyes on the road. The pitch black atmosphere with nothing but the headlights guiding their way reminded Natalia of a horror game. As if lanky creature were to appear in from of their vehicle and cause a deathly accident. Without the light of her device, her heart would probably be thumping loudly in her chest.

“Scramble them, actually . . .” She replied.

The driver ignored her sarcasm, opting to put on music.

“You can go to sleep, you know.” Charles looked at her, rolling his eyes as he saw the concentration on her face. “I knew I shouldn’t have shown you that. . .”

Natalia shook her head, a hand cupping her mouth as her shoulder rumble with mirth. “It’s just— It surprises me, how in the world is it possible to sound so idiotic each time?” Her voice was a bit isolated from the barrier of her hand, glancing at Charles. “They never miss, to be honest. . .”

He hummed, tucking his lips in behind his lips, amusement also lifting up his energy.

“I mean, look at this, apparently you’re asking for Toto’s blessing to ask for my hand in marriage!” She fell into a series of hysterics, losing her chain of self control. Saying it out loud was far more ludicrous than she had thought.

Charles also seem to think the same as he allowed himself to laugh with her, mouth splitting into a wide grin. He had expected a reaction from the people. Natalia and him shared the burden of being constantly linked to the every opposite gendered person they interact with regardless of the settings and the other people present.

Natalia’s laughter about the article imminently faded, leaving the soft roars of the engine and the cold whispers of the air conditioning to fill the silence.

After a moment, Charles stole a glance at Natalia, eyes immediately returning forward as he found that he was already looking at him.

Natalia blocked the unattractive snort threatening to turn into laughter at Charles’ quick head turn. She could’ve sworn he had a whiplash.

“What?”

She raised her brows at his bothered tone, choosing to lean more into his side. “I’m just looking at you. What’s wrong with that?”

Charles’ fingers that gripped wheel tightened as her taunting tone filled his ears. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it—”

“It sounded like you have a problem with it, though.” Natalia interjected, easing her temple on the headrest.

Besides her taunting attitude, the fact that she refused to quit staring at him brought a flaming annoyance to his mind.

Charles heaved a sigh, tapping his fingers on the leather cover of his wheel. His focused returned fully on the road, trying to block out the intense mahogany orbs that were intently seeking for his demise.

“Do you wanna play a game?”

No, Charles wanted earplugs. Or better yet, a gigantic headset that had the volume of a million megaphones.

But of course, a fight was not on his list of tonight. He bobbed his head, sending her the inquiry, “What are we playing?”

“20 questions, truth or dare . . .” Natalia pursed her lips in thought, shifting her gaze to the roof of the car as if she’d find more written there. “I was going to say I spy, but there’s nothing to see. So— you pick,”

Charles mulled over the usual car games before picking the one he think he’d get the most out of.

“20 question, then.” He glared at Natalia as she snorted at his answer.

“Typical,”

“You made me choose—”

“Yeah— yeah, alright. Calm down, damn.” Natalia wheeled her eyes, pleating her arms together. “You go first, since you picked.”

“Alright,” Charles clicked his tongue, drumming his fingers on the shift stick. “Did you have a pet growing up?”

Natalia casted a sidelong glance at him, mouth parting a few times before she finally realized he was serious. “That’s so lame!” She laughed, whacking him in the shoulder.

The Monegasque’s head tilted in puzzlement to which Natalia replied, “Ask more personal questions. If I was gonna ask you what your favorite color was, I wouldn’t even bother.”

Charles face sagged at her statement, mocking her by making faces. “Okay—” He narrowed his eyes as he racked his brain for a satisfying question. After a moment, he finally found one.

“Do you plan on going back to the Philippines after you graduate?”

All the active expressions fell from her face at the question, a stiffening dread constricting her word as she tried to form a coherent response.

“I haven’t thought about it—” The coiling vice in her tongue gripped at her vocabulary. “Most likely. . . If my passport is uh. . . yeah, then I think. . .” She clamped her mouth shut, noticing her excessive babbling.

“A yes or no would’ve been fine,” Charles murmured.

Natalia scoffed, running her fingers through her hair, hoping to banish the tremors forming in her nerves. “It’s something I only think about when I’m drunk,”

Charles nodded, not expecting that but her tone was enough indication not to pry any further.

In spite of knowing Natalia for almost a year now, Charles had had realized how little they knew about each other. Not to say that he was actually keen on getting to know her. However as circumstances have shifted rapidly in the last few hours, they might have to expand their knowledge about one another.

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Crickets. Much like the ones cartoons put over the background to serve as a comedic effect to characters who had heard something that the other seem to find hilarious.

In real life, however, the crickets were not funny in any way as Natalia’s jaw nearly banged on the floor, contradictory to Fred Vasseur’s ever-delighted face. If only she had the bone to tell that sweet-looking man that she’d rather eat the concrete than—

“Excuse me,” She said, palms starting to sweat as she peered at Fred. “I thought this was for journalism. . . training? No?”

“Oh, yes! Certainly, but Toto told us you were also interested in social media management,” He looked at her expectantly.

Despite his unwavering smile, the gentle touch on Natalia’s arm scorched in overpowering puzzlement. Every single word had been silenced except the ones; Toto and social media management.

“Well yes, but— not Charles’. . .”

She cowered away as Fred raised a question brow at her direction but slowly modified into a comforting grin. “Not to worry, there would be someone guiding you through it,”

Fred landed soft taps on Natalia’s shoulder, which she thought were supposed to be a symbol of reassurance. It proved to have done little, as the electrifying anxiety continued excruciating hike at her sanity.

Disregarding the supposed heat of the sun raying on her skin, the circulation of the chilly axis running down her body seemed to overthrow the rising temperature of the Italian summer.

“With the break ending soon and the start of the Belgian race, we thought it would be wise to have a ‘Gen Z’ handle Charles social media image. . .”

Natalia whirled around at the presences of the new voice.

A dark haired man, sporting an outgrown buzz cut sauntered behind her. He had a blue stripped dress shirt neatly tucked into his black slacks. His shoes shone despite looking like he had been running around for most of the day.

“Hello,” He lengthened his arm towards Natalia, who received his hand in a friendly shake. “I’m Nicolas Todt, Charles’ Manager. Nice to meet you, Ms. Valle,”

Natalia screwed her face up mentally at the formal address of her name. “It’s nice to meet you too. Natalia’s fine,” she thinned her lips as he merely nodded at her.

Just perfect, she thought, as she mustered a small smile.

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According to Nicolas, due to the increasing number of young fans, it was best to market Charles’ presence to fit their crowd. Given that Natalia’s part of the tech-savy generation, she had ample knowledge of the newest trends and sensations.

While that was true, Natalia could not believe the enjoyment she was getting from this job. With just a week in, she had gotten to witness Charles take an obscene amount of pictures while she aided with the angles and poses that might interest his fans.

What’s not very enjoyable though, was directing a bunch of rowdy boys for a photo op on a yacht. Their voices subdued the authority in Natalia’s instructions, ultimately forcing her to stand on a stool to capture their attention.

Annoyance painted her face, putting her hands together near her mouth to create a louder echo.

“HEY!”

Effectively, their boisterous behavior came to a halt, heads collectively whirling around to where she was. Natalia glowered at them, pinching her eyebrows with her fingers.

“Did you even hear what I said?” Eyes narrowed, she glared at them.

Whipping their heads around as if they’d find the answer stuck on teh each others foreheads was enough for Natalia.

Charles sat back, watching as pure frustration consumed Natalia whole. He raised a hand to beckon his friends.

“Alright, that’s enough guys. Let’s take the picture. . .” He met Natalia’s pointed gaze as the lot of them obeyed his command to approach him. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

As if I have a choice, her leering glare didn’t desolate, but her features softened at the quiet surroundings.

She took a deep breath, gesturing at the pontoon boat seat for them to take a seat. Once half of them were all aligned in a row, the other half stood behind the yacht seat. She tilted her head, shaking it in disapproval.

“You— and you—” She motioned at the two tallest men sat on the coach. “Please switch with them.” The men called out looked behind them to see who she was pointing at.

A satisfied grin drew on her lips as the men shuffled their places, gaining the perfect proportions Natalia had envisioned.

“Right, then!” Her voice blarred through the quiet atmosphere of Monaco, receiving amused glances from Charles and his friends at her change of mood. “You look like 1D’s frat boy era,”

The comment visibly went over their heads, gawking at her with confusion. Unwavering, Natalia simply waved them off, keeping the reference to herself.

It took her awhile to digest that American pop culture doesn’t transcend here in this country as much as it did in the Philippines. When she first came here, she was a bit sad that none of her four other college roommates were fans of Taylor Swift. Granted, not everyone has to be one. However, after scouting through the campus, the amount Swifties were barely a fourth of the school.

That being said, their unfamiliarity with her vocabulary was no longer a surprise. Also, they were men.

She watched as Antoine Truchet, Charles’ photographer, paced around the yacht, a camera clutched on his hand, searching for the best lighting. Her eyes then slid to the occupants of the sofa, automatically angling her head to get a better view of Charles. He sat at the center, thighs spread with a smug smirk toying at his lips.

Natalia felt a tug at her chest as a mirthful laugh escaped his lips at how Antoine was struggling at his now awkward position. The loud splash of the waves beside their boat was astronomically awakening, as though the cold grip of the waves had slapped her in the face.

She willed her unbelievably awful thoughts into something more appropriate, finding comfort at the part of her brain which appreciated the beauty of Monaco— not the Monegasque—

She gritted her teeth, wanting to combust into a tiny million particles. Biting her lips, she suppressed a scream as the urge to pull her hair out flooded her thoughts.

She was working, for god’s sake. Ogling at a sun-kissed, unruly haired man with a conventionally white shirt unbuttoned halfway was extremely unprofessional.

The camera loves that man’s face, that’s for sure.

There was nothing attractive by the way the last rays of the sun caressed his skin. Nothing special at the immaculate glow it created that made him look like a heaven-sent blessing— not even when he stares at her like that— he’s staring at her.

Panic engulfs her lungs, causing her shifting feet to slip on the matted steps of her stool. Her heart felt like it fell with her body, a clamorous bang resounding through the air the impact.

A agonized groan emitted from Natalia’s mouth as she landed on her arm. She heard a series of movements, coming closer to her. Soon, the brilliant view of the sky was replaces by different faces, worry sketched out in their features as she clutched her injured arm with her hand.

“Joris, appelle un médecin,” The calm voice amongst the chattering crowd tickled her ears, heart pounding at the same hands that slid themselves beneath her waist. She was carefully turned to the left, similar to a figurine that could shatter with one wrong move.

What was médecin, again? Medicine? Or is medic?

This was one of the times Natalia hates not being fluent in his native language. Withering in excruciating pain and having to rummage through her awful French lingo wasn’t a pleasant combination.

His eyes appeared in her vision, one flooding with an unexplainable expression. It was the first time she’d seen them this close. Resembling the calm of the ocean, gracefully soaring up to the skies, as if he took the ravishing sight of spring on claimed it as his own. His green eyes swam with a remarkable dose of electrifying energy, it’s almost appalling how much enchantment it held.

At her trace, his lips moved without sound until his calloused finger were introduced to the searing heat of her face. His digits gripped her cheeks, squeezing the supple skin to get her attention.

Charles released as sigh of relief as her unfocused eyes returned to normal. “It’s alright, just breath yes?” He whispered, getting ready to move her. “I’m going to put you on the coach, okay?”

The subtle nod was all he needed before he proceeded to lend strength to the arm under her, supporting her weight as he lifted her body onto the cushions of the seat.

Soft distressed ‘sorry’s’ escape his mouth as Natalia whimpered, shutting her eyes tightly at the sudden pressure on her side.

Another person took over Charles’ place on her side, who she believed to be the medical assistant they had summoned.

Maybe if it weren’t for the adrenaline coursing in her veins and the soothing touch of a certain someone, she would’ve been screaming from the pain.

As black spots started popping into her vision, the embarrassment what happened plagued her mind.

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In the yacht’s cabin, Natalia sat comfortably on a king sized bed, head leaning against the small window of the yacht with her legs crossed. She watched as the small waves did their repetitive dance, lulling the boat into a cadence sway.

Susie had called her as soon as she heard the news, scrambling to get as much details about her condition in a panicked state. Natalia instantly felt terrible for causing such trouble, quickly brushing away the apprehension in Susie’s mind and substituting it with consolation.

She seemed to calm down when Charles took the phone, explaining to her. “Yes, Ms. Wolff. There is no problem—” From his back towards Natalia, he twisted his head to catch her gaze from where she was sat. The brunette girl fidgeted with the sleeve of her sweater, careful not to agitate the muscles in her arm.

Charles wasn’t at all religious by any means, but he found himself thanking Natalia’s angels for not allowing her to break a bone in her body. Thankfully, all she got was a minor sprain which would be cured by pain medication and bed rest.

“Yes, Ma’am. Will do,” He nodded at Susie’s list of requests, striding to his jittery company. He dipped his head, a an arm anchoring his weight as he placed himself beside her. His thumb brushing against Natalia’s cheek. Without thinking, he stroked his finger on the skin, lightly pressing, feeling a rushing comfort at the touch.

Natalia, however, was gawking at him, beginning to rack her brain as to what the hell was happening. But he couldn’t comprehend anything as she drowned beneath his intense gaze and the intoxicating contact of his narcotic hands.

She overlooked the fact that he had ended the call, until his face was inches from her own, breath fanning on her flushed skin. Blood rushed rapidly onto her veins at their ridiculously close proximity. She noticed that at this distance, his eyes looked more like a blown out galactic dream.

They were near enough that if one of them were to lean forward—

The creak of the door awkened them from the hypnotic depths of their minds, scrambling away from each other darting to the opposite sides of the room.

“How’s it—”

Jorris stopped, looking at Charles who had a hand on his neck, scratching an area that appeared to itch a lot. He moved his observance to Natalia. She was facing away from Charles, eyes raking down at the furniture at the right side of the room, seeming to find it rather interesting.

“Are you okay?” His accented voice, dropped the question.

The occupants of the cabin then, looked at him, like a pair of deers caught in headlights. They both blinked back at him, offering no helpful response.

He raised his hands in defeat, turning back to walk out. “Fine, no one wants to talk to Jorris . . .” He muttered, after exiting the realm of the gaping fishes.

When he left, Natalia and Charles kept glacing at each other before Natalia had the strength to let a word out.

“You should probably. . .” She imitated a shooing motion over the door.

Charles nodded, understanding her order. “If— If you need anything— I’ll be—” He used his thumb as a pointer, indicating the spot where he’ll be staying, stumbling upon his word.

“Go, Charles—” Natalia sighed, running a hand through her face to hide the betraying expression that threatened to expose her disturbing feelings.

“I am going. . .” He hastily zapped out of the room but not before turning back, only to be greeted by Natalia’s deadly stare. He took that as the last warning, slamming the door shut in the process.

At the wake of the silence, Natalia whacked her head on the wall, which was unfortunately covered with a cushioned headboard that protected her skull from shattering into a million pieces.

Reaching for the pillow in front of her, she drew it near her chin, digging her face on top of the soft surface before screaming her lungs out.

Her fingers clutched the covering of the pillow, shoving her face deeper, hoping it would drown out the noise that spilled out of her mouth as agitation devoured her entire being.

Outside her door, stood a figure with his arms crossed, slightly leaning on the door. A knowing smile weaved his lips at the entertaining series of events before walking away to join Charles and their mates.

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Tags: @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos