So I Got Into Grad School Today With My Shitty 2.8 Gpa And The Moral Of The Story Is Reblog Those Good

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

karma | lh44

"karma is the guy on the screen coming straight home to me"

summary: seeing her toxic ex was never fun, but maybe it was less fun for him when he realized she was currently dating the GP winner on the screen, who happened to be his favourite driver

warning: overall fluff between the main characters, platonic!reader x valtteri bottas, mentions of a toxic ex-boyfriend, mentions of ex-boyfriend cheating, slut-shaming, swearing, alcohol consumption, reader is a little toxic to her ex (but he deserves it lol)

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

word count: 3.6k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

it has been a really hard week for me with work, but I really hope you enjoy this surprise either way!

masterlist

You're talking shit for the hell of it

Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant

You're terrified to look down

'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare

Of everyone you burned just to get there

It's coming back around

Paddock life was equally as exciting and terrifying for Y/N.

Even after becoming a usual guest during race weekends during the last few months, the young woman couldn’t help but feel a little nervousness in her stomach every time she walked on the circuit, still not used to all the attention and eyes on her.

Since the first time Lewis decided to enter the paddock holding hands with a mystery woman, everything in her life had turned chaotic to say the least. Every single person in there was shaken to the core, especially because he wasn’t exactly known to be so public with his dating life through the last years of his career. So naturally, curiosity spread through the air like a disease.

Not that it mattered to Y/N, all of that amounted to nothing when she remembered the real reason for her presence there: supporting her amazingly talented boyfriend. Lewis had been her best friend, her lover, and her biggest supporter since the day they met. She tried as much as she could to be the same for him, knowing how much her being there meant to him.

And to be completely honest, she had a hunch on how much it pushed him to do better. Even if subconsciously, the driver always had his best performances in his car when he knew he had his girlfriend to impress, no matter how many times she told him he was the best regardless of his race results.

Despite all of that, of course developing a handful of friendships with some of the drivers, as well as their partners, gave her a significant sense of comfort there, knowing she had someone who she could rely on if needed. And the perfect example of that was the quick and playful bond she formed with her favourite Finnish driver, while he was still her boyfriend’s teammate at Mercedes.

“Well, well, well. Look at that. Miss Y/N L/N herself, in the flesh!” Valtteri said as he approached her, with his typical sweet grin on his face. The woman felt her body instantly relax at the sight of her good friend, the stress now forgotten on the back of her head.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my second favourite driver on the grid.” She laughed, giving him a swift side hug, as they proceeded their walks.

“Only second?” The blonde driver asked, hand on his chest. “Lewis is not even here, Y/N. You don’t have to lie, you know.”

Their conversation continued for a few minutes, as they now walked side by side, arms linked in a friendly manner. Him asking her how her Sunday was going, and her asking him about his unlucky DNF during the race that ended just minutes before.

As they reached the Alfa Romeo’s motorhome, in true big brother and little sister fashion, Valtteri kissed her on her cheek and messed her hair up a little, winning a shove from the girl as she tried to fix herself.

“Wow. You’re a groupie now? Never knew you could stoop so low.”

And I keep my side of the street clean

You wouldn't know what I mean

Ugh, not that irritating voice.

Not him. Not in here. Not now.

She could feel her eyes betray her, as they couldn’t hide her shock and disgust when they landed on the big figure behind her. Of all people she could come across on the paddock, her lying cheating ex-boyfriend would be the one. Just my luck, she thought to herself.

“Oh fuck off, Jason.” She spat out, angry. After all, why would she even give that piece of trash the time of day? She tried to turn around and make her way back to the podium that was about to start any minute now but was stopped by a hand that tugged at her arm.

Unable to flee, Y/N was forced again to look into the face of the man she hoped never to see again. But you know what, she kept her calm. She had learned a lot from all those years and all those tears.

Especially that what goes around always comes around.

"So you're whoring around now for paddock passes?" He laughed in her face, for the thousandth time in his life. Jason had always made a point of trying to bring down the girl's self-esteem, so Y/N wasn't expecting anything different from him this time around.

As she prepared to answer him back, already tired and furious by the whole situation, the hairs on her neck stood up as she heard a recognizable click. Y/N's head followed the sound until she spotted the (unfortunately) familiar figure of a photographer, automatically panicking. She knew this man was known for having no boundaries and no respect for people's privacy. She could already imagine the descriptions given to these photographs out of context.

"AFFAIR? Lewis Hamilton's girlfriend seen in an altercation with a mystery man"

"Y/N L/N caught reuniting with ex while missing the 7-time World Champion's podium"

Can this get any worse, she thought.

"He must be confusing you with someone actually relevant. Why the hell would anyone want pictures of you?" Jason burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Damn Y/N, you must have been working well around here if you've reached that level of fame. How many drivers did you sleep with?"

It definitely can, she shook her head to herself.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

Karma's gonna track you down, karma's gonna track you down, karma's gonna track you down, the young woman repeated in her head like a prayer, trying to maintain her posture.

Although all she wanted was to ruin that clown's face right then and there, she knew that not only her image but her boyfriend's reputation were dependent on how she was going to handle this confrontation.

"This was a lot of fun and all, and I'm glad you enjoyed yourself with all the shit that comes out of your mouth, but I really have to go." She said so that only he could hear, not caring if she was being rude, and with her eyes studying what the photographer was doing from time to time. "My boyfriend is waiting for me and I have nothing to tell you. Goodbye, have a nice trip to hell."

"Boyfriend? Sure. Where is he then?" He continued to mock her, pretending to look around in search of someone. "I've heard better lies. But tell me then, where is that "boyfriend" of yours." He spoke, quoting on air when the word "boyfriend" was mentioned.

Oh.

You're going to wish you never asked that.

Spiderboy, king of thieves

Weave your little webs of opacity

My pennies made your crown

Trick me once, trick me twice

Don't you know that cash ain't the only price?

It's coming back around

"Y/N, I know we came on this vacation to unwind a bit, but you have to take it easy on alcohol." Her best friend said, trying to take the glass from her hand.

"Oh don't be a jerk, I deserve at least a good drink after all." She pulled the glass back to her mouth, spilling part of her expensive mojito on the floor.

"Yes, one, maybe even two. Not four in the space of two hours." Emma criticized. "I know you're having a hard time, I really do. But you can't go on like this. It's not healthy."

The young woman knew it was not healthy behaviour. But after discovering her boyfriend of 2 years, fooling around in their bed, in their apartment, with his co-worker, she felt she deserved a good time.

Apparently, it wasn't enough to endure that awful relationship in silence: the dishonesty, the jealousy, the lack of support, the control over her life, and the constant disrespect. Having to come face to face with the man she shared her life with all that time with another woman? Karma tricked her once or twice, but not at this level.

"We're in fucking Monaco, babe." She walked around the middle of the casino, eventually losing her friend, arms stretched. "Let's have some fucking fun-"

Before she could finish her sentence, her back hit someone behind her. Drinks flew and her dress was now all soaked, as was the man's blue suit. Y/N heard some curse words coming out of the guy's mouth, along with an irresistible British accent.

Although the situation was not the most appropriate, she couldn't help but feel heat spread through her body at the sound of that attractive voice.

She turned, prepared to flirt with the stranger until she recognized him as soon as she saw his face directly.

"You of all people." She said, tipsy enough to no longer have a filter.

"Me?"

And I keep my side of the street clean

You wouldn't know what I mean

"Yeah, you!" She pointed to him, touching his chest.

The man couldn't be more confused. Had they met before? Was she a fan of a rival team to Mercedes? Did he win a championship against the girl's favourite driver?

His life was Formula 1. He devoted all his time, all his energy, all his life to the sport. Therefore, the only justifications that came to mind at that moment were those.

"Do I know you?" His nose and forehead scrunched up in a puzzled expression.

"You don't know me." Y/N declared, crossing her arms in front of her figure. "But I know damn well who you are, Lewis Hamilton."

The way she said his name with disdain made the brit uncomfortable. So she knew who he is after all. Leaving Lewis speechless was something people rarely managed to do and at that moment he didn't know if it was motivated by the young woman's boldness or her beauty.

God, she was amazing. Okay, maybe she wasn't necessarily the biggest fan of him. Or at all really. But he couldn't help but admire her from head to toe.

Her eyes revealed her state, showing that the girl was definitely a bit tipsy, but the way they sparkled, their intense colour, was the detail that impressed him the most. How her long, curly hair perfectly adorned the front of her short black dress. The way her crossed arms highlighted her cleavage-

"Hey!" She caught his attention, waving a hand in front of her own face. "Eyes are up here, buddy! Don't think that because you're a winner or a champion or whatever your fans call you that you can look wherever you want and no one will tell you anything!"

Not a Formula 1 fan but she knew who he was. Out of the ordinary but noted.

"Ugh, you men are all the same!" She complained aloud. "No wonder that loser Jason is your biggest supporter."

"Sorry miss, but now you've lost me." He confessed, even more lost than before. "Who the fuck is Jason?" He chuckled.

"An absolute cheating, lying and disgusting clown, that's what he is." She replied as she sat down on a red sofa that was in the middle of the golden hall of the casino.

Interested in the matter (and above all, in the woman), Lewis took the seat beside her. Although he was used to the attention, the crowd of people that filled the room allowed them some privacy. No one was paying attention to him, everyone was focused on their own activities and groups, but his mind was totally on her.

"That sounds like a shitty ex-boyfriend. Especially the part where he's my biggest fan, not the cheating." Lewis told her, trying to cheer her up.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n genuinely laughed. Not from the alcohol, not forcefully, but genuinely from the way his words warmed her broken heart.

They were silent for a few moments until the driver interrupted. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She questioned, looking at him.

"I don't know. For your break up. For reminding you of him when he clearly hurt you." Hamilton admitted, almost ashamed.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It has nothing to do with you. I'm sorry for being a bitch to you when you are just an innocent person in the story." The woman, now beginning to sober up, spoke sincerely. "You know what, for an all-important celebrity, you're kind of a cool guy."

He laughed softly. "Thanks, I guess?"

Almost as if reading each other's thoughts, the two looked at each other and, although they didn't say it out loud, they both felt something they hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe even never.

"We should go out one of these days." He proposed.

"What?!" Y/N couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"You know, because of your ex. Karma has a way of serving sweet justice." He shrugged, teasing her. "Not because of me, it has nothing to do with my personal interest at all."

She immediately sensed the joking tone in his speech and couldn't help but blush a little. After all, Lewis fucking Hamilton was asking her out on a date.

"Maybe we should, champ." The two smiled.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

The very next day they had a dinner date set at a restaurant of his choice.

Emma had laughed in her face when Y/N told her what had happened at the casino bar during the time they'd lost each other.

The truth is it felt like a fabrication, a total lie. Y/N couldn't judge her best friend for not believing, because even she still found herself pinching her hand, expecting to wake up in her bed from a dream at any moment.

Emma helped her prepare for their date, glad to see her happy again. She didn't care who the suitor was, as long as the smile on her friend's face remained from ear to ear.

It's safe to say that her jaw dropped to the floor when she opened the door to their shared hotel room and effectively saw Lewis Hamilton.

"Is Y/N here?" He asked as he stood there, in all his magnificence, in a simple white shirt, open enough to show his dark skin and the tattoos that decorated it.

"Emma, close your mouth." Y/N joked, holding the other girl's jaw. "Hey, champ."

God, here they were again. The butterflies in their stomachs.

The date was everything the young woman expected and desired. From the way Lewis opened the door to his black Mercedes for him, to the way he went out of his way to book an entire restaurant to allow them to have more privacy.

The conversation flowed naturally, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. What started as a misunderstanding over her attempt to forget a heartbreak ended up resulting in one of the best nights of her life.

As the night began to draw to a close, the girl couldn't help but think that this would be it. She would never see the man again. He would probably forget about her in a matter of days. And she found herself disappointed with that idea.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He questioned, as his hand intertwined gently with hers. He pulled her a little to stop her on her way back to the car, bringing the two of them closer together.

"I just don't want this night to end." The words were out of her mouth before she thought about what she was saying.

"This doesn't have to stop here, baby." She released a shaky breath when she first heard the affectionate nickname, but a slow smile appeared on her face.

Ask me what I learned from all those years

Ask me what I earned from all those tears

Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here

After that magical night, he took her back to her hotel room and said goodbye with a loving kiss on her cheek and a caress along her cheek, keeping eye contact between them whenever possible as they said "see you soon".

Not goodbye but see you soon.

And it was said and done.

Not even two weeks had gone by before the driver was on a plane on his way to her, ready to spend his race-free week with his girl.

It became usual for them: him travelling to her, her travelling to him. They knew how quickly they were evolving, especially given the conditions in which they met, but when things feel right, why hold back? Out of fear of the consequences? Because of his fame?

He felt that he had finally found the balance he so desperately needed, without even knowing it. He found himself with his head on her and not his career all the time. She gave him peace, she gave him stability, she gave him everything he wanted and more.

On the other hand, she found in him the adrenaline, the enthusiasm, the thrill. Now she woke up smiling and went to sleep smiling. Something in her was reborn, perhaps her childlike spirit: the desire to know more, and the ambition to have and be more.

Together they were just that: more.

"So?" Jason interrupted his ex's thoughts. "I'm still waiting to hear from that little boyfriend of yours."

'Cause karma is the thunder

Rattling your ground

Karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter

Karma's gonna track you down

Step by step, from town to town

Sweet like justice, karma is a queen

Karma takes all my friends to the summit

Would it be toxic of her to rub her new relationship in her ex-boyfriend's face? Perhaps.

But, I mean, sometimes you and karma just vibe like that.

"Well... You see, this is a super funny story!" The girl smiled a little Machiavellian. "Actually, I have to thank you, for everything."

"To me?" He replied, totally confused by her change in tone.

"Yes, you!" She faked a grateful smile. "If you hadn't ruined everything between us, I'd probably still be stuck in that apartment I've always hated, and worst of all, with you!"

"What the f-"

"But no, since you don't have the ability to keep your dick in your pants, I ended up in a casino in the middle of Monaco and I met the best person in the world. Someone who treats me like I deserve, supports me like I deserve, LOVES me like I deserve!"

"You're just lying in an attempt to deflect the subject." Jason argued back. "So much bullshit talk and still no sign of your new boy toy after all."

"You can watch him on the big screen if you want!" She pointed to the giant television behind her, where Lewis was getting out of his silver car, ready to collect his prize. "However, I would prefer to see my man up close if you let me. Or rather, I don't owe you anything so I don't care about what you have to say. So enjoy the show."

Jason just stood there, motionless and disbelieving. Is she fucking kidding me? Lewis Hamilton?!

Karma is the guy on the screen

Coming straight home to me

Y/N ran across the paddock towards the podium as if her life depended on it. But when she arrived at the celebration, the trophies were already handed out and the champagne was already open.

Lewis smiled even more as soon as he set his eyes on his girl, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by her or everyone around them.

His speed in the race had nothing on the speed with which he descended the stairs from the top of the winner's spot to the audience, his path perfectly aimed at her.

"Hey, where were you?" He asked, wrapping her around the waist in his arms, kissing her immediately, without giving her time to respond.

Reminded of how bad her past had been and, above all, how happy she was by his side now, she returned the kiss with an intensity that was unusual for her. The cameras, the people, they were nothing next to him.

"Wow, baby." He expressed, giggling shocked by her public display of affection. "I missed your face when I got out of the car."

"Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to be here but you'll never guess who I saw." She shook her head, laughing as they started to make their way back to the Mercedes' motorhome.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

They approached their destination, still wrapped around each other, eyes on each other, lips on each other.

Lewis, still completely in the dark about the altercation that had taken place minutes before, saw a mysterious figure standing there staring intensely at the two of them.

"Hey, man." He initiated a conversation, as he usually did with all the more timid fans. "Do you want an autograph?" He asked sincerely.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, eyes still not straying away from her champion.

Karma really is a relaxing thought.

Karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Uh-huh, mm

Karma's a relaxing thought

taglist: @dan3avacado @starxqt @roseinnej @spiidergirlsworld @ccloaned @hotpigeon22 @dr3lover @lovelytsunoda @primadonnasdream @luxebeautystyle @wallfloweriism @ilivefortheleague @gwynethhberdara @satellitelh @adavenus @audreyscodes @wifeoflucyboynton @th6ccnsp6cyy @classifiedsblog @flyingmushroomss @motylekrozi @claramllera @gabrielamaex @handsupforamiracle @pierre-gasssllyy @lorenaloveslewis

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thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

2K notes View Post

escapismlourve

1 year ago

“I think the only way we can grow and get on in this world is to accept the fact we’re not perfect and live accordingly.”

— Ray Bradbury, The Illustrated Man

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escapismlourve

1 year ago

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | series masterlist

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig ⤷ (tennis player & tashi’s best friend reader) 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers spoilers, challengers content warnings, swearing, controlling mother, descriptions of anxiety, use of y/n 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k (so far)

➞ prologue | chapter one | chapter two (coming soon)

864 notes View Post

escapismlourve

2 years ago

I was born to sit in the garage and look pretty while my athlete bf is going around in circles in a spaceship for 50+ laps

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escapismlourve

1 year ago

the summer i turned pretty - charles leclerc & arthur leclerc

a reader x charles leclerc/arthur leclerc love triangle

warnings: intoxicated (but consensual) kissing

a/n: trying out a written piece/smau/texts weird hybrid but it was all i could come up with to get this idea across! i hope you all like it <3 (there will be a part 2)

also this was requested!! i'm so sorry anon i lost the ask but i hope u see it and like it anyways

Day 1

France is a place that isn’t easy to forget, but having lived there your whole life made it seem ordinary. The country that saw me grow up, and that I was glad to call home, failed to impress me every day because I was used to it. The beautiful architecture, history, and tourist attractions weren’t as beautiful to me anymore; it was my day-to-day life.

That wasn’t true for the beach house in Nice. It wasn’t mine, or my family’s, but that place never failed to impress me, even if it was my day-to-day life every summer. The Leclerc summer home was my favorite place on Earth. From its blue and white facade, the soft beige interiors, the pool and beach view, the big dining room, and the incredible company, there’s no place I’d rather be in right now.

“Y/N L/N, you have arrived!” Charles Leclerc, the ultimate reason for this place’s beauty, yelled out to me.

“Charles Leclerc, I have arrived!” I replied blushing, and opening my arms into an embrace. As every time I hugged him, my body relaxed and tensed somehow at the same time, safe and nervous, loved and not loved back. But aren’t all childhood crushes like that?

“I’ve also arrived, pote. If you even care,” my wonderfully annoying older brother, Alexandre, interjected. Charles let me go to greet my brother, and I turned to find the youngest Leclerc, Arthur, on his way to hug me hello.

“Hi, chérie,” he said with a smile on his face, ruffling my hair affectionately.

“Hi, Arthur. Up to no good once again?”

“I’m always up to all good!”

Pascale Leclerc, the boys’ mother, greeted me with cheeks kisses and pinches. Everyone then swarmed my mom, Alice. Sometimes I think my friends love her more than they love me, but that was deserved.

As every year before, everyone finally felt at home. And as every year before, the inaugural pool party started.

“Y/N L/N, will you do me the honor of joining me at the pool?” Charles exaggeratedly held out his hand, as if we were Royals in a ball. Antics that I was happy to oblige with. Too happy for my dignity to recover.

As we made our way inside, and swam a couple laps playing around on who is faster, we wound up floating peacefully on a corner with the sun beginning to set.

“I missed you,” Charles said out of nowhere, making my heart do a somersault.

“I miss you too,” I managed to reply, feeling the blush on my cheeks.

“I want to hear from you more often. I know I’m busy with racing, but I always can make time for you Y/N.”

The thing about unrequited love is any show of affection feels like a marriage proposal. But of course I could not deny his request. He was, above all else, one of my best friends and one that I needed to be there for.

Hervé Leclerc passed away the year before, a couple months after the summer vacation. We didn’t know it would be the last time we spent with him, and I was worried about what this year’s vacation would be like with the boys’ father missing.

“I’m always here for you,” I vowed and he gave me a quick, chaste kiss on my forehead. To make sure I wouldn’t forget my promise.

As I looked at Charles’ glistening face against the darkening sun, I realized we would be okay.

y/ninstagram added to her stories

charles_leclerc added to his stories

Day 2

“Chérie,” was the first voice I heard as I woke up, with Arthur knocking on my door for show and letting himself in.

“Too early,” I whined back and hid under the covers, to have them ripped from me by the guy in my room.

“It’s time for the sunrise beach walk,” he replied and I knew he was right, so I let myself be dragged outside the house. I couldn’t say no, since the sunrise walk at least once during the vacation is also a tradition between Arthur and I.

It was also worth it; we silently agreed for that to be time to catch up, be honest, and be vulnerable ever since we began taking the walks. This one would be particularly hard too.

“I really, really miss my dad,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders to walk side by side.

I didn’t know how to handle Hervé’s death with the boys.

Enzo was older than me, even beyond his years, and there was nothing I could say that would be wiser, or better than what he had to say.

Arthur was quiet and reasonable, way more accepting of inevitables than me, more useful to himself than me.

Charles was passionate but closed, a master at compartmentalization, never letting me in even if I’d like to.

But Arthur, ever my closest friend, still needed my support.

“I know you do,” I replied softly and squeezed his hand. “It’s only normal, and I’m sorry you’ve been dealt these cards.”

Grief is a strange thing, but on the beach I hoped I let Arthur know that I would always be by his side, and that the sun will always rise again for him. With his steady breathing while leaning on me as we sat on the sand, I knew he understood.

arthur_leclerc added to his stories

y/ninstagram added to her stories

Day 3

y/ninstagram added to her stories

ameliedeveraux20 added to her stories

This was the third year Arthur and I were invited to parties that Alexandre and Charles went to. The promotion from little siblings to cool siblings opened up a new world in Nice. Especially one where I could ignore my schoolgirl crush on Charles through alcohol.

So I happily got ready, into a pink summer dress and into the car that would drive us all to an even bigger house filled with a bunch of privileged European kids ready to drink the night away.

The first drink came from Antoine, who sadly had a beautiful girl around his arms that indicated he wouldn’t be a good distraction. The second one came from Amelie, my Nice girlfriend, who was happy as ever to see me and catch up with me before she also found an arm candy and promptly left. The third one was on me, as I was forced to stare at Charles making out with a girl I learned was named Charlotte.

After that, I stopped counting and kept drinking, joining the dance floor to enjoy the numb feeling in my face, the new found careless attitude, and the music blasting in my ears.

Before I could process it, Arthur was in front of me, the blush on his face indicating he was also intoxicated. What started as a normal jumping around like one does at a party, progressed to a point where his hands were on my waist and my hands were on his neck.

I couldn’t even recognize the song anymore, too entranced on the way his eyes were on mine. There were no words, as was usual between him and I. We just knew.

I wouldn’t take the first step, but he would. Arthur’s lips met mine in a strong, messy kiss. I didn’t pull away. I did want it. And it wasn’t scary.

When we stopped to take a breath, I realized I wanted to kiss him again. As I was leaning in, taking the initiative myself now, another force pulled me away.

I walked by inertia, trying not to fall down in following who was leading me away from the crowd. When I looked up, I recognized it to be Charles.

I couldn’t breathe from the adrenaline of the kiss I just shared, but also from the touch of Charles’ hand on mine, even if it was to take me out of the party.

My reaction was all too slow, finally starting to protest.

“What are you doing? Let me go,” I defensively said, snatching my hand away from his. The butterflies didn’t leave anyways.

“You’re drunk, let’s go home,” Charles coldly replied and held my hand again on his way to the car.

“Why would I want to go home? I’m having fun,” I continued to protest and he continued to pay me no mind.

As he put me inside the vehicle, despite my clumsy attempts to fight it, and slammed the door, I continued to think about what this could possibly be about. Where was Charlotte? Where was Arthur? What was happening?

My head spun and he got in the driver’s seat, turning the ignition on.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re drunk. You don’t kiss people when you’re drunk.”

“That makes no sense.”

“You don’t kiss people you haven’t kissed sober.”

“Its Arthur!”

“Exactly!”

The back and forth continued all the way to the house, my thoughts sobering up with every passing moment.

“If you don’t want me to be with your brother because you don’t think I’m good enough, that’s really not your choice,” I told him decisively, crossing my arms and pouting like a child throwing a tantrum.

That was the only explanation for what Charles just did. He didn’t think a Leclerc should be with someone like me, and was doing everything he could to prevent it.

When he started laughing, I wasn’t so convinced anymore.

“What’s so funny?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. I just made the biggest scene out of jealousy, and you’re saying I don’t think you’re good enough.”

Time froze and my mouth went dry. The confession made its way through my entire bloodstream, replacing the alcohol effects with pure shock. My head was spinning for entirely different reasons, and my brain couldn’t bring the words out. What would I even say?

I opened my mouth but nothing came out, and Charles put his face on his hands in frustration, before leaving the car. I still could only think what is happening?

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escapismlourve

2 years ago

Can you write something in which Charles has a dream in which his father and Jules are alive? Perhaps Arthur, Carla, Pascale, Herve, Charles, and the reader (and Jules, if you will) gathered for a dinner party to celebrate Charles' world championship. (Charles stated in an interview prior to his father's illness that his greatest wish was for Charles to become a world champion.) As the evening progresses, Charles awakens and believes it will never come true. The reader then consoles him. Thanks❤

What if…?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: mentions of charles’ dad and of Jules.

a/n: yayy i finally posted something! I don’t feel too comfortable writing about the personal losses that Charles has been through but the anon that requested this sent the request in 12 times🥲 but i don’t think i will write something like this again…

It was gloomy and dark when you and Charles first touched down at the airport and headed to Monte Carlo, back home, both of you eager for a shower and a good night's sleep after the exhausting weekend, and past few months as a whole. The route back to your apartment in Monaco was silent and dull, Charles' hand clasping onto yours in the car while you faced a struggle to try to stay awake.

Fast forward a few hours, you could safely say that the situation hasn't differed much in terms of the aura and mood. Showers have been taken, clothes have been emptied out of suitcases and hung back in the closet. Dinner was eaten and now, there you sat on the couch with Charles right by your side.

The television was on, playing some French talkshow that was being used merely as background noise to kill the silence of the apartment. Charles was sprawled out on the length of the sofa, a cushion tucked behind his head, his phone in his hand, his thumb swiping up the screen every few seconds while tiktok sounds played and changed. You were curled up on the opposite end to him, finishing up a book you'd started a few days ago, on the plane to Abu Dhabi.

You were a few pages away from the end, but from the corner of your eye, you were seeing Charles getting sleepier by the second, yawning repeatedly and dozing off momentarily every once in a while, his phone leaning backwards in his hand every time his eyes drooped shut for a few seconds.

You sighed and closed your book, dropping it onto the couch and redirecting your attention towards your sleepy boyfriend. He was clearly exhausted, yearning to slip between the soft and warm bedsheets and just doze off but just like always, he refused to leave you alone in the evening, even when it was getting pretty late. Time and time again, he would tell you that he'd rather spend more time in your presence, even when each of you was preoccupied with something else.

With a tap onto your phone screen, you realized it wasn't that early in the evening anymore, so you might as well go to bed and get some much needed rest.

"Bébé..." you called for Charles who immediately gave you his attention, turning his head to face you with red, sleepy and tired eyes.

"C'mon, let's go to sleep." You suggested with a soft smile, "T'as l'air si ensommeillé." You seem to be very sleepy.

He nodded, a soft smile showing on his face, but he didn't make any effort to get up. Instead, he gestured for you to come closer, "Viens ici un peu." Come here a little. He asked you.

Like always, you couldn't help the way your heart beat faster and your eyes shone. You scooted closer to him and allowed him to pull you to lay on his chest. While his hands brushed your hair back, you nuzzled your face into his neck and allowed your eyes to shut for a second, the soft and comforting scent of himwrapping you in a bubble of love and safety, the warmth of his arms wrapping around you and resting on your back feeling like home.

"I know i was difficult to deal with during the season, so thank you for always supporting me, even when i was annoying about racing." He said to you, punctuating the heartfelt sentence and sealing it with a kiss on your temples.

At a loss of what to respond, you found yourself softly pecking his neck. Finishing second in the championship's drivers standings was amazing when taking into consideration the way the second half of the season played out but if someone had told you after the first few races that he'd have to battle for P2, you would've been in disbelief. Therefore, all in all, it had been a season of mixed emotions, of focusing mainly on the bright side of things and a lot of gentle whispered, comforting words that at some point started sounding like a replaying tape.

"Don't say that. It was the least I could do, and you weren't annoying or difficult; you were rightfully upset most times." You reassured, lifting your head to give him a haste kiss on the lips as he sighed, letting go of a heavy breath.

"Je t'aime." I love yous were exchanged were quietly exchanged before the two of you pulled yourselves up and headed to the bedroom, quickly slipping under the sheets and cuddling each other until sleep reigned over the room.

Cuddling Charles through the night was nothing new to neither of you. You loved the feeling of his arm around your back as you slept and he loved waking up with your head on his chest, therefore that had become your usual sleeping position, especially since his busy lifestyle often left the night as the only time you could connect with him without any disturbances getting in the way. Most times, it was amazing, getting to feel the other person's movements and breaths as they slept soundly, the simple interaction coming off as grounding and the ultimate human way to connect. You actually had a bit more to notice since Charles was someone who mumbled all sorts on nonsense when he's asleep. He wasn't a full on sleep talker but if you're listening, you would definitely be able to figure out what he was dreaming of at the time.

That night, you fell asleep with Charles brushing his fingers through your hair and woke up only a couple of hours later to soft mumbling leaving his mouth.

Groggily, you rolled onto your back, your hands instinctively rubbing your eyes as you tried to fully wake up and comprehend what had interrupted your sleep but silence had returned to the room and soon enough, it started lulling you back to sleep, the exhaustion from the past few days being a significant factor in how fast your eyes shut again.

However, it took only a few more seconds to wake up fully to the sound of barely coherent french.

"J'ai essayé tout..." I tried everything... That was all you could make out for a few seconds, the sounds quickly going back to quiet groans.

Confused, you sat up and turned the bedside lamp on, allowing the dim light to partially illuminate Charles' features. You could see a frown on his sleeping face as he moved slightly around the bed, as if in discomfort.

"Désolé." Sorry. He whispered again, his hand now rubbing at his face while he turned onto his side.

"Baby..." You softly spoke, cupping his face with a gentle hand, only to find it coated in a sheer layer of sweat.

With no response from Charles, you went for your second best option there. Your arms wrapped tightly around his body and even in his sleep, he hid his face in your neck.

For a second, you thought he was good, that it was just a quick bad dream but it was a moment later when you realized it wasn't just that.

"...la prochaine." ...the next one. He groaned, "Promis." Promise.

By then, you had caught onto the fact that he was dreaming of something related to racing and if the tension in his body and the expression of his face said anything, it was that he wasn't dreaming of something pleasant.

You let go of him and brushed back his hair while calling for him as he seemed to be mumbling his family's names barely coherently.

"Charles..." You called for him, sitting up and pushing away the blanket since he was sweating and breathing heavily. Repeatedly, you tried to wake him up, calling for him not too loudly as not to startle him all while your hands brushed through his hair and caressed his cheek.

"Non..." he was still groaning with an upset tone and at that point, it was sad and painful to have to hear him suffer through whatever he was dreaming of.

"Baby, c'mon wake up." You tried again, kissing his forehead.

Your patience was thinning since all your tries were failing but it wasn't until he let out a faint scream of an incoherent words that his name loudly left your lips and he quickly sat up, panting with his eyes shooting wide open.

"Are you okay?" Those words were the first thing to leave your mouth as you moved to kneel by his side.

For a second there, he still seemed confused, his face blank and his eyes lost, but through all of that obvious distortion, he nodded and fell back against the pillows, his hand covering his face.

"Reste ici," Stay here, you said even though he clearly wasn't going anywhere, "je t'apporte une tasse d'eau et je reviens." I will bring you a cup of water then i'll come back. You let him know and rushed off the bed to the kitchen, quickly filling up a cup with some cold water and joining him back in bed with just as much speed.

As soon as you were back beside him, he took the water and chugged it down quickly, disposed of it onto the bedside commode then pulled you closer to him.

The role were reversed and instead of you sleeping on his chest, you laid back on the bed and hugged him close until his body was partially on top of yours, his arm wrapped around your middle and his face hidden in the crook of your neck while you comforted him with slow rubs on his back and occasionally softly massaging his scalp. Short intervals separated deep sighs that Charles was letting out, showing that he was clearly still disturbed from the dream, rather nightmare.

"Bébé," you started, "ce n'était qu'un cauchemar." It was only a nightmare. You soothed, knowing that this was a safe ground to start from because it he wanted to talk about it, he now could and if he wasn't comfortable with that, shrugging this off was still on the table.

"I hated it." He whispered against the skin of your neck, "Tous le monde étaient là - ma famille et même la tienne - et ils parlaient tous du championnat." Everyone was here - my family and even yours - and they were all talking about the championship. Charles started explaining and you stayed quiet, hoping he would continue.

"Papa et Jules étaient déçus en moi." My dad and Jules were disappointed. He let that last part slip in a low, hesitant voice and went silent after it.

That's when you knew that was the nightmare part of the dream, the reason he was so shook and upset. It became clear that there wasn't anything else he was gonna say because that was the worst part of it all, every other detail becomes mostly irrelevant.

"Charles, baby... Do you actually believe they're disappointed in you? And don't answer this on impulse. Think about it for a second and tell me."

You heard a hesitant breath that he took, his mind clearly in conflict about the question, so you gave him the time to think.

Personally, you were proud of him. Everyone was more than proud of him and if he believed his dad and Jules wouldn't be, you would have to gladly show him all the reasons the truth was far from his personal beliefs about this. You would still hate it that he was disregarding all those reasons himself but you would make sure he saw them and weighed them out in comparison to all the negatives.

It was no secret to anyone how mentally draining this particular season was for him. You had been there for it all, the rage, the disbelief, the silence, the tears as well as the podiums, the celebrations and the wins. Therefore, it wouldn't be realistic to say you expected him to bounce back just like that, with no reminiscence or wondering about what could've been. He was human after all and people's expectations from him shouldn't be beyond that. The problem was that Charles' expectations from himself surpassed all the logical ones, what ultimately set him up with imminent disappointment when he realizes how he was sabotaging his mind.

"I don't think they're disappointed but i don't think they're that proud. When i become world champion, they will be." Charles broke the silence with those few words.

"Um..." you hummed, not exactly agreeing. "Sit up a little." With that, the two of you were sat in bed, him against the headboard while you sat with crossed legs by his side, facing him while he looked into the distance.

"I've seen you do this self destruction routine too many times these few months and i think it's about time someone told you this, Charles." You took his hand in yours, "You measure yourself as a whole on the racing scale when racing is just a part of you. Charles, you are way more than your career, way more that your racing results. You are a massively supportive brother, a caring and loving son, a lovable and trustworthy friend and an amazing, fairytale-like boyfriend. Wouldn't they be proud of that? Of you being such a good person?"

He turned to look at you, his lower lip tucked between his teeth as he bit onto it roughly, his eyes guarded while his grip on your hand tightened.

"And no, that doesn't mean your results for the season weren't good enough. You did amazing and you and me and most of your fans know that you're not the reason you didn't end up being a world champion this year. Being second in the driver's standings... Charles, that was all you! It was your own, personal effort and everyone knows it. You did your absolute fucking best, baby... and i don't know if it means much right now, but i really am so, so proud of you and, just like i know everyone else is feeling the same, i believe your dad and Jules would also feel proud." You tried to reassure him, and every word you said, you completely believed and hoped he would too.

Your eyes searched his face for any emotions and for a while, it looked like he was resisting them but then, under the dim lights of the room, his eyes glistened with a few tears that you barely caught a glimpse of because Charles pulled you to his chest, something in him urging to have you closer. His lips met yours in a quick kiss because he cuddled you close.

"Ça me signifie le monde que tu sois fière de moi." It means the world that you’re proud of me. He sniffled and said but from the restricted tone of his voice, you could tell that there was something else bugging him.

From your position between his arms, you noticed him gulp just before he leaned his head back against the headboard and heavily sighed.

"Charles," you sighed yourself, "what is it, bébé?" You asked and moved so his head was on your chest instead, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your hands tracing soothing patterns onto his back. Charles found comfort in the way you were hugging him close, the beat of your heart audible to him as it synced with the beat of his. His legs tangled with yours and he finally found himself partially relaxing, enough to talk comfortably about everything at least.

"It's just small questions - that i have - that are annoying, like what if i never become champion?" He spoke in a low tone, "Tu sais, il n'y a rien qui me garantit que je serra jamais champion." You know, there's nothing that makes it certain that i will ever be champion.

For a minute after that, you thought deeply about his words. There was nothing you wanted to do more than tell him that his dream will inevitably come true one day, but as he said, where is the guaranty? You'd spent the whole past year reassuring him that the championship was his to clinch, that it was only a matter of time before the biggest trophy is his but there was no denying that all of that was just wishful thinking. He definitely has the talent and skills for it but there was several other things that needed to be aligned in order for the dream to manifest itself.

You held him closer then, your lips pursed as you attempted to formulate a decent reply. He deserved the world, not only being it's formula one racing champion and if any of that was ever yours to offer and gift, you would've presented him everything, wrapped in golden ribbons and a few words that it was his to keep.

"I think you will be champion one day but if nothing goes right and that, god forbid, doesn't happen, i want you to remember the person you are outside of racing. You're already a hero - a champion - to so many. You're an inspiration and a motivation to so many of your fans and supporters. They value you as a person as well as a driver, they admire your talent and strength and will support you through anything. Everyone, including me, would love to see you lift the championship trophy and we all know you're capable of doing just that but even without that happening, we will always love you just the same and we will still be sure that you're a brilliant driver, just one with the worst luck. I believe your dad and Jules would be telling you the same thing as well, baby.” You spoke softly, your fingers brushing through his hair carefully as you ended your sentence with a kiss to his forehead.

Charles nodded and tightened his grip on you, “Mais je veux vraiment être un champion…” But i really wanna be a champion… He replied, the words muffled.

“Et je crois bien que tu le sera. Your time to shine will come, honey.” And i believe you will be.

With a heavy sigh and a tight hold, Charles quietly whispered to you that he love you, thanking you for you words as well, “Merci, bébé. Je t’aime fort.”

“Je t’aime même plus, Charles.” You kissed the top of his head lightly before relaxing and feeling Charles relax his body too.

You cuddled him until he fell back asleep, then allowed your eyes to shut.

You hated it so much when he had these doubts but not once will you ever let him go to sleep with his self esteem shaky. You would always be there to pull him back onto his feet and support and reassure him. You promised him that a long time ago and to this day, you were still happy to keep up the promise.

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