yourusername: you can come instead of kimi
kimiantonelli: what 🥺
liked by olliebearman, kimiantonelli, alexandrasaintmleux, and others
yourusername: photodump.
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user3: this is so chaotic, I love it
olliebearman: ❤😘
yourusername: ❤🥰
user4: that's a real kimi raikonnen caption
user5: y/n challenge to not post her man
user6: and kimi
user7: at this point they've adopted him
kimiantonelli: why did you post a picture of sebastian vettel as a kid?
yourusername: cause he's adorable
olliebearman: she sometimes spends hours just looking at pictures of him as a kid
yourusername: again, he is freaking cute
kimiantonelli: that's weird
user8: i get it, little seb is adorable [liked by yourusername]
thomasbearman1: can I come to ikea next time too?
yourusername: of course 😊
kimiantonelli: and me?
yourusername: you just went with us
kimiantonelli: yes, and?
yourusername: ask ollie
user9: in other words: ask dad
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, kimiantonelli and others
olliebearman: happy birthday to my favourite girl. The best girlfriend and engineering student in the world. I love you to the moon and back ❤❤❤❤❤❤🥰🥰🥰😘😘🥳🥳🥳🥳
tagged: yourusername
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user10: oh to be loved the way ollie loves y/n, happy bday
charles_leclerc: happy birthday y/n!
yourusername: omg charles leclerc, thank u so much 🥰
kimiantonelli: happy birthday mama 🥰🥳🥳
yourusername: i think I'd remeber if I were your mum 🤔 but thank you
yourusername: thank you so much, love! I love you to pluto and back 🥰❤❤
olliebearman: then I love you from the andromeda galaxy and back 😘🥰❤❤❤
user11: not them out here challenging their love for each other
user12: it's incredibly cute but also very painful (I'm single)
prema_team: happy birthday, y/n!
___
___
yourusername posted a story
[caption] helping chef kimi 🍝
tagged: kimiantonelli, olliebearman
kimiantonelli posted a story
[caption] paddel with the family
tagged: olliebearman, yourusername, dinobeganovic
yourusername: family? Did we adopt Dino now too?
kimiantonelli: too? Have you accepted my request to be officially adopted?
yourusername: ollie made me
kimiantonelli: 😍
kimiantonelli posted a story
[caption] I have been officially adopted, I want to thank my adopted parents for this opportunity ❤❤
tagged: yourusername, olliebearman
olliebearman: aww, she told you🥰 welcome to the family 😘
kimiantonelli: grazie 😘
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Hey! Could you write a fic where female reader is an older driver (maybe debuted around the same time as Seb) and just little scenarios of her being a mother figure towards the drivers. Maybe mix of SMAU and written story (if you do that) xxx 😊 big thx
MUM! - Grid x OlderDriver! Reader
Plot: Everyone needs their grid mum, and that’s everyone!
F1 was you’re life.
Not in a oh I love watching the races every week and going to one race a year. No, you were convinced there was fuel in your veins.
You drove for about 16 years in F1 being the first female driver to win a race. You debuted at the same time as Sebastian Vettel, you guys were bestfriends and didn't let racing affect that friendship. And that's all it ever remained. Every bone in your body loved Seb, he was quite literally your platonic soulmate. When you first met, your now husband, he'd become fast friends with Seb and never questioned your friendship with him and never tried to involve himself too much to the point it felt forced and thats why you knew he was the one.
When you left F1, you left the same year that Seb did, it felt right leaving the same year he did and you discussed it with him. For you it was because you wanted to focus on family. You were 17 when you first got into F1 and now 33 years old and you wanted to settle down with your husband and expand the family. Which apparently wasn't as much as a struggle as you thought it would be as you'd gotten pregnant 5 months after retirement. Giving birth in 2023 and now being pregnant again in 2025.
But F1 and half the drivers you grew up with didn't want you to leave the sport. So when Sky Sports reached out you knew you had to go.
But with the growing amount of Rookies you seem to have adopted children as well as having had them as well.
Sebastian Vettel
y/user
Liked by sebastianvettel and others
y/user: 25 years of friendship! Happy Birthday to the Grid Dad from the Grid Mum! 🫶🏼
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sebastianvettel: woah, I wish I looked this cool now! Look at that haircut 🫨
-> y/user: a diva once, a diva always
fan1: OMG MOTHER AND FATHER!!
You and your husband always made sure to vist Seb for his birthday, it was like an annual gathering that was held where you both were able to have a massive catch up without being near anything to do with racing.
"Happy birthday!" you crashed him handing him his huge bag of gifts before you went to his wife who you'd become very close to and hugging her handing over a cheeky bottle of wine for the both of you to share.
Your husband stood with Seb while you and Hanna went into the kitchen to unpack the food that you'd got for Seb's birthday dinner.
"Thank you for coming" Seb smiles pulling you into a hug, sighing against you.
"I havent missed one in 25 years, even when i had Tonsillitis i still got here. Wasn't much fun for you guys, but you all had a great time" you grin at the memory making him laugh. He could still see you, wrapped up in a bundle of blankets on his sofa with a box of tissues and a honey and lemon tea.
"Mmmmm good times" he laughs, pulling out of the hug and helping you and Hanna dish up.
"What are you doing?" Hanna cries seeing him doing work.
"Huh?" he asks confused.
"It's your birthday, go sit! Keep out other guests entertained and enjoy yourself!" Hanna exclaims, forcing him out the kitchen where he went to sit with your husband.
Your husband and Seb actually did lots of what you and Hanna called 'guy things' together. They'd go on fishing trips while you and Hanna would go to Italy or Spain and soak up the sun. Or they'd play games while you and Hanna went shopping.
Your husband also found joy in travelling with you and your kids adored seeing their Uncle Seb who despite it being his birthday always had to have something for his favrioute kids.
However, another child always seemed to lurk their way into these parties, that being yours and Seb's first adopted child, Lance Stroll.
You and Seb had been officially made mum and dad of the grid. It started off with Lance being taken under his wing and you just sort of joined in with that.
Lance Stroll
Lance was one of your favrioute people, you could sit with him in a comfortable silence and didn't feel like you needed it to be forced. He was also incredibly funny when he wanted to be.
One time, you'd been talking to him off of camera and he's accidentally called you mom. You'd bursted out laughing before querying him wondering if he really did see you as a mother figure.
"Yeah and what?" he asked and you stopped shocked.
After that it was just sort of known that you and Seb had taken on the roll of parents to all the little drivers across the grid.
You would always make sure to make time for Lance as he always would make the time for you. You werent keen on his dad, as he always gave you strange stare that made you feel like he hated you, no matter how many times Lance told you to 'just ignore it'.
"Lance, that overtake today was incredible!" You praise and he nods in thanks.
“Im glad I managed to get us in the points after Fernando’s crash” he offers and you nod. He’d got himself P6 which was a good score considering how the rest of the season had been going.
“Mmmm you’re leading the Aston Team now” you exclaim happy at the fact.
“Thanks Y/N, you’re always there for me” he says making eye contact with you.
“Can’t get rid of me Lance, I’m your mother” you tease and he laughs looking down.
Charles Leclerc
y/user
Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and others
y/user: Interviewed my first son today. He asked for a hug :) always such a pleasure interviewing him and getting time to talk. Oh and then theres Lewis ...
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charles_leclerc: Ahhh thank you, ma mère adoptive! You should come see Leo your Grandson!
-> y/user: I have a grandson?! I'm so old!
fan1: argh she's so cute with everyone! We all knew she's be such a good mother (real mother)
-> y/user: I'll have you know I've been a real mother since 2018 when Charles joined the grid.
-> fan1: omg she replies!!!!!
lewishamilton: i'm not ignoring her i swear...
Charles and you first met in 2017. He was very nervous when he came up to you, asking you how you felt you're race had went. You later found out he had a whole script to say to you after your race that you'd started from pole. Little did he know that Lewis was going to turn into you on lap 3 and crash you out for the rest of the race.
"Well, i didn't finish so not great kid" you chuckle at his nervous expression where he'd finally realised what he'd said.
“I erm, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that” he blurts out and you can only laugh at him.
“I know I know. I’m just teasing you” you say placing a light hand in his shoulder trying to ease his nerves.
“You know you’ll be racing with us soon” you grin at him knowing he’s signed for Seb’s old team.
“Yes, I’m excited … and nervous. You’re all so great” he compliments looking down and you sigh.
“I bet you’re gonna be big. Like world champion big. I can see it now. Charles Leclerc WORLD CHAMPION” you say raising your hands in a jazzy manner.
“That should be you. You should have hand a championship but it’s HIS fault” he directs looking at the screen following Lewis in your P1.
“How are you so calm and not angry at him?” He presses and you just laugh.
“I used to get very angry when I first started and I was young. But you learn that you being upset gets you nowhere. I learn from my mistakes, I don’t let them have a hold over me” you explain to him. Knowing that you were a much calmer and level headed driver than you used to be.
“Do you think I’ll ever be as good as him?” He asks tone softer than it was before.
“I think anyone can be as good as him, given the circumstances. I’ve know Lewis for years and he’s where he is now because of how committed he is. He works and trains harder than anyone I know. He’s got an incredible team behind him and a car to match, when all of that falls into play you’ve got yourself a winner. He’s one of the greats and will be remembered by everyone” you offer and Charles nods, now seeing the current leader of the championship in a new light. He’d always looked up to him, but now he just seems like a hard worker and Charles wanted to be that.
Lewis Hamilton
Lewis by far was not one of your grid kids, being a similar age to you and having started your careers in the same year you’d know him for an incredibly long time.
Which means you knew his tendency to be a little … childish. And by a little you mean a lot.
Too put it bluntly Lewis is a massive brat.
He doesn’t act angry when races don’t go his way, he’ll pout and be all salty looking like a puppy whose just had his biscuits taken away from him.
He’d been know to throw caps at his teammates when they said something bad about him and would often try play the victim card. You’d know him for so long that you knew the games he played like the back of your hand.
“Lewis!” You chide the man whose currently slumped over on the drivers room. You were both on the podium. Max having taken the win.
“What! He’s taken my win from me!” He points at the empty seat where Max should be.
“That’s racing! You’ll get him next week, this week things didn’t go your way and that’s okay. So stop sulking and put that gorgeous smile on your face” You command sick of him moping when he’s still up on the podium. He looks up to see your famous mum look, and nods on instinct feeling like it’s his mum scolding him when he was a child.
“You’re scarily good at that look Yano? Ever think of having your own?” He asks and you roll your eyes.
“Yeah, but I gotta retire first” you smile and he nods.
“We’ll get out of here then, less competition for me” he grins and you shake your head laughing.
That’s the Lewis you knew.
Jamie Chadwick and Bernie Collins
y/user
Liked by bernie.collins.1, jamiechadwick
y/yser: COMMENTATING WITH MY DAUGHTERS!!! Look at how beautiful they are!!! So proud of Jamie for last weekend in Indy Car as well, as a ex-female driver I hope to see her in F1 in the future!
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Jamie and Bernie were a recent development in the F1 World. You couldn’t be more pleased that women were taking more of an interest in the sport than they historically had.
Not only as viewers but working there. You now saw so many female engineers and mechanics. And it made you so happy that women were comfy within the sport.
When Bernie came onto the scene you immedielty took the younger lady under your wing, almost becoming a mentor. But the mum side would slip out at times when people managed to pick up on it.
"Bernie did you put cream on? It awfully sunny and they haven't given you an umbrella!" you exclaimed one day, going into your back and taking out the aerosol can of sunscreen you'd brought with you incase anyone was in need.
"No i was a little rushed this morning leaving! I didn't realise how early they wanted us at the track" she sighed and you offer her the can showing her you can spray it in her cheeks. She closed her eyes letting you spray it on before you wipe it in.
"Don't wanna get greasy hands before you hold your mic hun" you smile at her as she opens her eyes thank you for the coverage.
It was very similar to Jamie, who was much younger but also whenever the girl came to the f1 track would find her way to you.
But the moment you really saw it was when you went to her Indy Car race. Her parents werent able to attend and you had the weekend free so of course you and you're husband came down for the show.
And you couldnt be prouder of her. You were one of the first people there to congratulate her on her amazing race, pulling her into a huge sweaty hug.
"I'm so proud of you darling! You did so well!" you smile kissing the side of her head pulling her in for a second hug.
"Thanks mum" she chuckles with a shake of her head before heading off with her team.
George Russell
y/user
Liked by georgerussell63, carmenmmundt and others
y/user: My son drove me and his girlfriend to work today! Recommended 10/10!
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georgerussell63: yeah you're welcome. Might need you to come to parents evening soon. Professor Wolff isn't happy with me or Kimi!
-> y/user: @ susie_wolff get your husband in check! lol
->susie_wolff: will get on this now, not our sons, not on our watch
-> georgerussell63: thanks mum number 2
kimi.antonelli: Mr Wolff is very scary. PS can i have some help with my homework?
George was one you always watched out for. Being a British driver you felt like you had to mentor him. Which is exactly what you did. The minute he came into Williams despite his awful first year, you knew he was something worth your time and knowledge. So you helped him out, gave him small pointers on the track and he got his first points in F1. The car got better as the year went on and he was driving with more ambition.
George had a special place in his heart for you after all you'd helped him do in his career. He was one of the saddest when you annouced your retiremeant. You had to actually to take him out to dinner and explain to him privately that you were leaving even before it got out in the media.
"So what's this treat of a meal for? Not my birthday!" he says digging into the Carbonara that was in front of him.
"Well, next years going to be a little different in the races!" you start to explain not picking up your own knife and fork, wanting to concentrate on getting everything out in the open.
"What, OMG are you changing teams?" he asks in shock.
"No, i'm retiring" you say and he chokes on the pasta making you look up in shock. He also looked shocked too.
"W-what? No you cant be!" he says looking at you. You were his favrioute person on the grid. He always came to you whenever he had a bad race or an issue with Max, which you always treated as if they were siblings in an argument.
"I'm sorry, but it's my time and i want to be with my husband and ... i wanna start a family" you smile softly looking at him.
"Were you're family. Here racing!" he demands a sour upset sort of look on his face.
"George ... i love you all. But i need to do this. For me, okay. I'll still come and visit. Think i've got a free paddock pass for life ..." you joke.
"But ..." he starts but you just smile.
"Come on, lets not spoil a good meal" you say, tapping his hand.
"You better come visit" he mutters looking up at you with a smile.
"Does that mean i'll get to be a cool Uncle?" he grins and you laugh with a nod.
"Oh absolutely"
Kimi Antonelli
Kimi Antonelli wasn't who you expected for Mercedes to replace a 7 time world champion. However, he was for sure the right choice. You saw him as this timid young teenager who was still going through school.
When he'd started in 2025, you were at every race as a commentator or guest. You loved travelling and being with the calendar as it went through the year and being in their to see the wins and talk to your old friends.
But Kimi was interesting. 2025 had brought many rookies who were in a very different age bracket from you. Which meant of course they all flocked to you like sheep.
Kimi was a special case where you met his mum in his F1 debut when he crashed. His mum was incredibly worried and you consoled her as much as you could until Kimi came to meet the both of you.
After that moment she trusted you with her son. You would go with him from the hotel to the track and you'd sit in the Mercedes hospitality with him.
"I don't get this, what does it mean?" he asks you about a question on his English homework that he didn't really understand. This was a typical race weekend now, between practices and interviews you were hauled up with papers both of you having what you called mocktails. It was literally just fancy water with lemons and limes and an umbrella in it but you and Kimi always found it funny ordering them.
"Well, its asking you how the poem makes you feel... its about emotion in literature" you then translate it into Italian, and he nods a thoughtful face appearing across his features before. He writes his answer out in english before showing it to you and you smile.
"I recon if you werent half the driver you are, you'd be a poet!" you grin and he frowns lightly knocking your shoulder.
"No! Shush!" he cries before laughing with you.
"Good thing I'm a good driver then!" he jokes and smiles taking some water.
Isack Hadjar
y/user
Instagram Story Caption: He destroyed the car, but got a hug from me!!!
Yuki Tsunoda
Instagram Story Caption: Mine and @ nicolepiastri child!
i loveee ur stuff, i was wondering if u could write a arthur x fem!reader smut, where she works on charles team (not on ferrari, but like personal photographer or smth, like she travels with charles basically) n she and arthur have like veryyy big tension (like non stop banter, snarky comment, teasing, barks). Then at an after party (monaco 24?) she ends up in his room and they fuck.
hope this is something along the lines of what you were looking for :) also it isn’t proofread so i apologise for any mistakes!
Most Ardently ᴬᴸ
✧. ┊ PAIRING: arthur leclerc x fem!reader
✧. ┊ WORDS: 2.5k words
✧. ┊ TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+, smut, enemies to lovers, coarse language, taunts, unprotected sex
There were a lot of perks that came with being Charles Leclerc’s personal photographer.
It wasn’t the career path I imagined back when I was a broke uni student shooting blurry portraits of my friends in exchange for takeaway, but somehow, through a chaotic mix of luck, timing, and a shared love of vintage lenses, I ended up with a dream job I never knew I wanted. Private planes stocked with champagne, hotel suites bigger than my entire apartment back home, and front-row access to the kind of glamour most people only glimpse through a screen.
And, of course, Charles himself.
A vision of a man who looked like he stepped straight out of a black-and-white film reel. The kind of subject photographers would kill for.And honestly? One of the kindest clients I’d ever had.
But there was a downside.
A very loud, very smug, very infuriating downside.
His motherfucking brother.
Arthur Leclerc.
The most demonic Leclerc there was.
Arthur Leclerc was a menace.
Not in the villainous, tabloid-scandal kind of way—no, that would’ve been too easy. Arthur was worse. He was charming. The kind of charming that made people forgive him for everything, from stealing your towel when you were in the swimming pool to “accidentally” locking you out of your hotel room at 2AM barefoot. Which he’d done. Twice.
He took one look at me, day one on the job, and decided I was going to be his favorite new toy. Not in a romantic way (though he flirted just enough to keep me constantly confused), and not in a cruel way either. It was worse. He teased.
Endlessly.
Relentlessly.
Like it was his full-time job.
“Your lens cap is still on, Picasso,” he’d say, even when it wasn’t.
"Do men not get with you because of your face or your personality?"
“You hang around Charles too much. You’ll start talking in italics and heartbreak soon.”
Just constant yapping.
We were in Monco that weekend. Sun-drenched and stupidly beautiful. Charles had disappeared into a meeting with the team, leaving me with a golden hour and a memory card begging to be filled.
I was crouched near the harbour, fiddling with exposure settings, when a shadow loomed over me.
“Careful,” Arthur’s voice drawled. “You might fall in. Not that anyone would notice.”
I didn’t look up. I didn't need to see him to know who it was. “And yet, somehow, I always know when you’re nearby. Must be the smell of arrogance and body spray.”
He tsked. “That is rich, coming from someone wearing a shirt that says ‘Pentax 4 Life’. You are realising it makes you look like a cult member?”
I finally looked up, squinting at him through the sun. He was wearing that ridiculous smirk again—the one that made people hand him drinks or forgiveness without thinking. Not me. I knew better.
“You don’t have to stand here, you know,” I said. “There’s a whole country for you to go be irritating in.”
“Ah, ange, you are the most fun to irritate,” he said, crouching beside me like he belonged in the frame. “Besides, Charles said I should try being helpful.”
I paused, suspicious. “Helpful how?”
He reached over and—without asking—tilted my camera up a fraction. “There. Better composition. Rule of thirds, no?”
I swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch my camera.”
“Relax, Picasso. You will still get your moody shot of a yacht.”
“It’s a catamaran, you Philistine.”
He grinned wider, and for a second, I hated how good his eyes looked in this light. Gold-flecked. Unfair.
“You know,” he said casually, “for someone whose job it is to observe, you are much terrible at hiding things.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Arthur stood up, brushing nonexistent dust off his shorts. “Nothing. Just that you get really flustered when I’m around. It is cute. Like a kicked puppy.”
“I don’t get flustered,” I snapped, rising to my feet. “I get annoyed. Because you never shut up, and you always assume everything is about you.”
“Because it usually is.”
“God, you’re insufferable.”
He leaned in then—too close, the heat of him sudden and sharp in the salt air. His voice dropped low, almost amused. “And yet, you never walk away.”
That shut me up.
Only for a moment.
“Because I don’t lose,” I said, chin lifted. “And if I walk away, you win.”
Arthur blinked, something sparking behind his gaze.
For once, he didn’t have a comeback.
Just a half-smile, a beat of silence, and a slow, measured step back.
“Well then,” he murmured. “Let the games continue.”
The afterparty was a blur of champagne flutes, flashing cameras, and the sound of Charles’ name being chanted like a hymn. He’d won. Finally. Monaco. His home race.
I was happy for him. Ecstatic, even. But also bone-tired and overstimulated, wedged between celebrities and sponsors and too many people who thought owning a Leica made them a creative.
And I was clinging to the edge of the dance floor, counting the seconds until I could leave.
Until he found me.
Arthur.
His shirt half-buttoned, a drink in one hand and mischief in his eyes.
Of course.
He sidled up, shameless. “You look like you would rather be at a funeral.”
“I’d rather be anywhere you’re not,” I muttered.
“Yet you are watching me,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Is it the shirt? It’s the shirt, isn’t it?”
I turned to face him, glaring. “It’s the fact that you’ve been following me around like a lost kitten all night.”
“I prefer ‘charming menace.’”
“I prefer ‘walking red flag.’”
He grinned, leaning in so our noses nearly touched. “Then why haven’t you walked away?”
I opened my mouth to fire back. Something scathing. Something final—but his hand brushed my waist, possessive and sudden.
I froze.
We were tucked into a corner of the club, the shadows flickering just enough to make it feel hidden, but not enough to be safe. Not really. People were all around us, drinks sloshing, cameras flashing, music pulsing like a heartbeat.
“You keep looking at me like you want to slap me,” Arthur said, voice low.
“Maybe I do.”
“Or maybe you want to do something else.”
He didn’t wait for permission. His hand slid lower, fingers splaying across my hip. Not subtle. Not coy.
I shoved him back, hard.
“What is wrong with you?”
That got his attention. His jaw tensed, sharp under the flashing lights. “What, now you are pretending like you don’t want this?”
“I don’t want you—”
“Ah, c'est conneries!”
We were nose to nose again. Breathing hard. Both of us trembling with something hot and ugly and undeniable.
And then—
I kissed him.
Or maybe he kissed me. It didn’t matter. We crashed into each other, mouths colliding like a car crash, hot and reckless, all teeth and tongue and fury.
Someone bumped into us, laughed, maybe even whistled. I didn’t care. Arthur’s hands were gripping my waist, my jaw, my hair, like he didn’t know where to hold first. Like he couldn’t decide which part of me he wanted most.
“You’re out of your mind,” I whispered against his lips.
He grinned, wild and breathless. “You make me that way.”
And when his hand slid under the hem of my dress, low, possessive, there, I didn’t stop him.
I should’ve.
But instead, I tipped my head back and let him.
Let him claim me, right there in the corner of that stupid glittering club, with Monaco spinning around us like a dream we couldn’t wake up from.
The moment the hotel room door slammed shut behind us, it started.
“You’re impossible,” I snapped, walking in ahead of him. “You don’t know when to quit.”
Arthur’s laugh was sharp. “And you don’t know when to admit you liked it.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
He paused. “So say you did.”
I turned around slowly. “Why? So you can gloat? Add it to your list of wins?”
“I am not keeping score!"
“You’re a Leclerc. Of course you are.”
He stepped closer, the heat between us flickering back to life. “You kissed me first. You grabbed my hair. You moaned my name in the middle of a fucking club.”
“And you let me.” My voice dropped. “You wanted me to.”
He didn’t deny it.
He just stared at me like he was trying to figure out if this was real—or if he’d imagined the way I came apart in his hands.
I kicked off my shoes, backing toward the bed. “So what now, Arthur? You want a round two just to prove something?”
He shrugged off his jacket, eyes still locked on me. “I want a round two because I can’t stop thinking about how you looked when I had your thighs shaking.”
My breath caught. Just for a second. Just long enough for him to notice.
“You’re such a cocky little shit,” I muttered.
“And you’re still here.”
He crossed the room in two strides. Grabbed my waist. Kissed me like he was punishing me for every word I hadn’t said.
We tumbled backward onto the bed, all teeth and hands and heat.
“I hate how good you are at this,” I whispered against his throat.
“Good?” he scoffed. “You were begging.”
I shoved his shoulder. “You’re delusional.”
He pinned my wrists above my head, smirking. “Say you didn’t like it. Go on.”
I didn’t.
I bit his lip instead.
His groan was low, broken. “You’re such a fucking brat.”
“And you’re obsessed with me.”
He didn’t argue.
He just kissed me again—deeper, hungrier, like he wanted to crawl inside my skin and stay there.
There was no pretending it was casual this time. No drunken excuse, no blurry club lights to hide behind.
Just us.
Sharp edges. Fast hands. Bruised mouths.
He peeled my dress off like he’d imagined it a hundred times. Maybe he had. Maybe I had too. His hands weren’t soft. They were sure. Greedy. Mapping skin like he didn’t believe it was real.
I shoved his shirt off and dragged my nails down his back, marking him. “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”
Arthur’s breath caught, then he smiled, dark and wrecked. “Then show me.”
I pushed him onto the bed, climbed over him, settled myself over his hips without breaking eye contact.
For a second, neither of us moved.
He stared up at me like I’d just ruined him. And maybe I had.
“You don’t get to ruin this,” I whispered, breath shaking.
“I would not dream of it,” he said, voice raw. “Just tell me you want this.”
I didn’t say it.
I showed him.
His hands were on my waist, guiding me, grounding me. My mouth on his shoulder, his jaw, his throat. The sharp gasp he let out when I rolled my hips harder made something twist low in my stomach.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You feel—god, you feel unreal.”
I pressed my forehead against his. “You talk too much.”
He flipped us, pushed me down into the mattress with a quiet, breathless laugh. “Then shut me up.”
He pulled himself out of his tight jeans, manhood springing free like he hadn't let himself release in months.
He shucked off his jeans, cursing softly when they caught at the knees. I watched him through half-lidded eyes, every inch of him flushed and trembling, like the moment itself was too much to hold.
And then—
"I do not have protection..." he muttered, like this information could stop him from all he's every wanted.
"I don't care."
"But ma chérie..."
"Just put it in, God!"
And he sank, letting out a deep groan emanating from low in his throat. He took it inch by inch, careful to take it easy and not hurt me. Not when he'd just got me.
"You've been fucked before, yes?" God, he really did let his mouth run.
"Yeah." His jaw clenched at my answer, thrusts growing harsher. "What, you expect me to be a virgin?"
"No," he exhaled, eyes shut tight as he changed his angle, grunting. "Do not like that you have had another man inside you."
"Whoever said anything about a man?"
"Don't tease me, coucou." Thrust. One. Two. A whine from me.
"I'm gonna..."
"I can feel you clenching."
“Arthur—”
He leaned down, lips brushing my jaw, my cheek, my mouth. “Come for me,” he whispered. “Let me hear you.”
I broke with a cry, the tension snapping like a string pulled too tight. My body arched up into him, shaking, legs wrapped tight around his waist. My nails dug into his back, anchoring me to him as he fucked me through it, slow and deep and possessive.
“That is it,” he growled, breath ragged. “That’s my girl.”
His pace faltered. His hips jerked once, twice more, and then he was spilling inside me with a stuttering groan, his forehead pressed against mine, eyes screwed shut like the pleasure hurt.
We lay there for a moment, gasping, sweat-slicked and silent. The only sound was the hum of the city through the hotel windows, far away and irrelevant.
Then Arthur pulled out gently, collapsing beside me on the bed, arm flung over his eyes.
I stared up at the ceiling, chest heaving. “Well. That was...”
“A mistake?” he offered, voice muffled.
“No,” I said, too fast. Then softer: “No. Just... unexpected.”
He turned his head to look at me, lips still parted, hair sticking to his forehead. “You going to regret this tomorrow?”
“Are you?”
He didn’t answer right away. Then: “I’m only going to regret stopping.”
I turned toward him, tracing a lazy line along his shoulder. “We fight too much.”
“We flirt too much,” he corrected. “And then we pretend it’s fighting.”
A silence bloomed between us. Not awkward—just full. Full of all the things we hadn’t said. All the things we were too afraid to admit out loud.
He reached for my hand. Twined our fingers together without asking.
summary: isack being a supportive boyfriend to his girlfriend during the olympics
warnings: just a short little thing for now ( shout out to all my isack lovers btw ). drivers being jokingly mean, thought i'd put it in just in case. this is based back in 2024 after spa :)
pairing: fem! skateboarder! reader x isack hadjar
genre: smau, fluff, established relationship
face claim: no one in particular. i got most of the photos off pinterest and just picked them at random ( i don’t know who the skater is in the last pics, but the blurred photo is of the medal winners )
author note: this was going to be a gabi oneshot, but i changed it at the last minute
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isackhadjar
liked by pepemartiofficial and others
isackhadjar: great way to start the break! now time to go support my y/n at home <3
( tagged: youruser )
view all comments
user: good job isack!
paularon_: i let you win btw
| isackhadjar: yeah okay
user: cuties
camposracing: enjoy your break champ 👊 hoping y/n wins 🙏
| youruser: thanks admin 💖
user: what does she compete in?
| youruser: skateboarding!
| user: oh... which one are you in?
| youruser: park, so it'll be on august 6th if you wanna watch :)
youruser: reporting for hab duties lol
| isackhadjar: always 🫡
| paularon_: i’m going to be sick
| isackhadjar: die
| user: LMAO
pepemartiofficial: can i wear her medal if she wins?
| isackhadjar: wdym if…
| pepemartiofficial: 🙄 *when
| isackhadjar: good. don't do it again
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youruser
seen by camposracing and more
|
|
|
user: don’t break him we need him
paularon_: yes… do it so so i can win
| youruser: you haven’t even been on the top podium yet, sit down.
| paularon: hope you lose in the first round
| youruser: 🖕
sami_meguetounif: please tell me he fell
| youruser: he slipped off and the board hit him in the ankle
| sami_meguetounif: LOL DID YOU RECORD IT
| youruser: IM NOT GIVING IT TO YOU
| sami_meguetounif: BOOO 🍅🍅🍅
camposracing: please don’t injure him. he’s got a championship fight going on
| youruser: I KNOW THAT HE WAS FINE
| camposracing: 😐
| youruser: it was just a bit of pain… BUT NOTHING IS BROKEN OR BRUISED OR EVEN SCRATCHED
| camposracing: 😑
| youruser: attitude
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youruser
liked by olliebearman and others
youruser: my precious 🫶
( tagged: isackhadjar )
view all comments
olliebearman: okay gollum
| youruser: i’m going to doxx you
user: i’m new here. wtf do you mean isack is dating someone in the olympics
| user: they started dating towards the start of the year. there was a skateboarding comp going on in the same place as a race and he went to see with some of the other guys
| youruser: i will also like to state that i did rizz him up first
| gabirelbortoleto_: and ignored all of us at the same time
| youruser: i was NOT 🙅♀️ letting a man THAT cute WITH big brown eyes leave without getting his number first
| isackhadjar: ☺️
| gabirelbortoleto_: WE ALL HAD BROWN EYES WTH AREBYOU TALKING ABOUT
| youruser: his are special
| gabirelbortoleto_: im going to block you both
user: was he allowed in the village?
| youruser: NO I WAS SO UPSET
| youruser: but the beds were basically made of cupboard so i saved him back pain 🫶
| camposracing: thank you
kimi.antonelli: still offended that i didn’t get an invie
| isackhadjar: you don’t deserve one
| kimi.antonelli: UNPROVOKED????
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isackhadjar
viewed by gabirelbortoleto_ and others
|
|
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user: we love a supportive bf
gabirelbortoleto_: be honest, did you throw up?
| isackhadjar: yes
| gabirelbortoleto_: you aren’t even competing
| isackhadjar: and here i thought you were being supportive. watch out in monza
user: love when drivers became wags
| isackhadjar: it’s a hab.
| user: my bad king 🙏
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isackhadjar
liked by camposracing and others
isackhadjar: SHE DID IT ❤️❤️
( tagged: youruser )
view all comments
user: HOLY SHI
user: i was watching and they put the camera on isack — he was crying SO BAD
user: she ate that
user: absolutely unreal to witness her skate
sami_meguetounif: congrats to y/n and everything... why do you look tall in the last photo
| pepemartiofficial: i thought i was the only one!
| isackhadjar: one day is all i ask for
formula2: WOOHOO WELL DONE Y/N
camposracing: an olympic gold medalist will be in our garage...
| camposracing: someone hold me
jakcrawford: damn you better win the championship now
| isackhadjar: working on it…
| gabirelbortoleto_: 🧍
| paularon_: 🧍
| zane.maloney: 🧍
| isackhadjar: GO AWAY
youruser: i love you so much 🥹🥹💙
| isackhadjar: you constantly have me in awe, i love you baby, well done 💙
| olliebearman: barf
| isackhadjar: WHY ARE YOUS DOING THIS TO ME LEAVE
kimi.antonelli: congrats y/n! ( why didn’t you invite me )
summary . . . Your first time visiting a race is certainly the best one, since your boyfriend wins his home race
request . . . yes!! based on this request!
word count . . . N/A
warnings . . . none!
faceclaim . . . girls from pin and sarahli!
alexavia yaps . . . erm not my best and its kinda short but yeah </3 opening my reqs after this (probably) so yes!! ITS SO SO SO SHORT AND SHIT IM SORRY BUT I COULDNT COME UP WITH IDEAS! NOT PROOFREAD!
yourusername
liked by arvid.lindblad, yourbsf, maxverstappen1 and 89.1K others
yourusername going to my first race weekend?! i <3 being a wag
click to view all comments
username1 IM SO HYPEDDDDDDDDD TO SEE YOU THERE
username2 y/n paddock appearance?! LETS GOOOOO
username3 SO PRETTYYYY
username4 holy fuck im going to be there too
username5 gorgeous
username6 mothered so hard THE max verstappen appeared in her likes
username7 my GOD shes stunning
username8 MAX???
username9 i cant wait to see the y/n race updates
arvid.lindblad if i win then youre coming to every race
yourusername ill get expelled from school
arvid.lindblad become homeschooled
yourusername HOMEschooled not F1PADDOCKschooled
arvid.lindblad the season is nearly over and its the SUMMER HOLIDAY
yourusername well NEXT season i'll be in school
arvid.lindblad just admit you hate me
yourusername the thing is i dont
arvid.lindblad i love youuu
yourusername love you more
username10 how does it feel to be a goddess y/n
username11 their conteractions im sobbing
username12 had me on my KNEES
username13 screaming crying throwing up
username14 im giggling at their comments
username15 i need more ASAP
username16 can arvid fight
yourusername prolly not
arvid.lindblad ???
username17 PROLLY NOT Y/N ILYYY
username18 man im itching to get love like this
username19 im never shutting about this for like another 18 centuries
username20 watch her disappear for like 2 more years just to appear in the paddock again and get arvid a win
username21 stop why is max in the likes
username22 never beating the older brother allegations
username23 MEOW
username24 whos arvid im here for y/n
username25 hes her bf and the guy in the pics
username26 some random racer idk hes not important y/n is
username27 i need to know when where shes going to be so i can attach myself to her
username28 oh to be in a relationship with her
yourbsf if only i was a wag then we'd be together
yourusername sigh i know
olivergoethe hey
yourusername fuck off
arvid.lindblad LMFAO
olivergoethe this is what i get for being nice
username29 WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF
username30 DIED. DECEASED. GONE. ROTTING.
arvid.lindblad
liked by yourusername, pepemartiofficial, yourbsf and 97.8K others
arvid.lindblad DOUBLE HOME RACE WIN!!!!!
click to view all comments
yourusername IUHDYGHJSD MY BOY!!!!! CONGRATS I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH 🤍 🫶
arvid.lindblad THANK YOU!!! I WOULDNT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO THIS WITHOUT YOU 🤍 I LOVE YOU MOREE
yourusername IMPOSSIBLE 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
username31 THIS IS SO CUTE WF
username32 brbr going to hang myself
username33 MAMMA MIA IM CRYING
username34 living the dream
username35 CONGRATS
username36 sigh i wish i was her
username37 SWEDEN RAHHHHHHHH
username38 BRITIAN RAHHHHHHHHHHH
username39 INDIA RAHHHHHHHHH
username40 ARVID RAHHHHHHHHHH (i just wanted to join in)
username41 FATHERRRRR
username42 woah
username43 he ate. licked the plate clean. swallowed the table even
username44 can't wait for the next race weekend ahhhhhhhh
username45 imagine if he wins again
username46 then y/n is his good luck charm
username47 sigh i want to be as pretty as her
username48 STUNNING.
username49 they ate up everyone frrrr
username50 SPRINT AND FEATURE WIN?? THE GOAT
username51 ONGGGG
username52 FRRR
username53 the next it wag and it driver
username54 when i sleep i see them in my dreams
username55 WE NEED MORE Y/N IN THE PADDOCK FOR MORE ARVID WINS 🔥🔥🗣
username56 guys dont forget us when you become the no.1 racing couple
username57 THE SECOND PIC IM SOBBING THATS SO CUTEEEE
username58 id let him hit me with his car
username59 i'd let y/n hit me with his car
username60 mama y papa
yourusername has posted three new stories !
caption 1: HE DID IT RAHHHH // caption 2: won twice and thinks he wons the place // caption 3: love looks pretty on you 🤍 still love him sigh
fin.
taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)
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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
masterlist.
. . .
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.
