Hi, and welcome by my first F1 fanfic story. I want to say beforehand that English is not my first language. I am sorry for any grammatical errors. I am a big fan of Formula 1, but I am not known (yet) by all the terms or so. I am willing to learn and adjust, but please be patient. This story is an Charles Leclerc fanfic, but contains serious topics such as smut, alcohol/drug (ab)use, (domestic) violence and depression. Please consider this a trigger warming for the whole story.

Thank you and enjoy reading <3

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9 months ago

"Are you trying to impress someone?"

Amelia turned around by the sound of that familiar voice. "Oh, no..." she groaned.

It was who she already thought it was: Charles Leclerc, leaning against the wall of the club she just stormed out of. She needed some fresh air as the alcohol in her system was overheating her body. "Oh, no..." Amelia groaned again, whilst running her hands over her face.

"What is it? Aren't you happy to see your favorite driver?" He smirked, our actual both of him smirked.

"Since when are there two of you?!"

Charles laughed, a little bit too hard if you asked Amelia. "How much did you drink, love?" He stepped towards Amelia, for whom Charles became one person again, instead of two blurry ones.

"That... is none of your... business." Amelia could barely stand on her heels anymore and was desperately trying to find and hold her balance, whilst looking at her phone. She had just ordered an Uber, because she decided herself that it wasn't a good idea anymore to go back in the club anymore. So, she just needed to stay calm for two more minutes. Charles came closer, wanting to grab Amelia's shoulders to give her some support.

"Hey," she pushed his hand away. "Stay away. I ordered an Uber. I am fine."

"You're clearly not fine, you're way too drunk. I am coming with you."

Amelia rolled her eyes, but for once, she didn't want to start a fight with him. She didn't feel like fighting with him, because she would probably just yell stupid things at him, things she won't agree with when she would be sober, or she would slip things she wasn't allowed to tell the world (or actually just him) yet; like signing a contract to become the (first-ever female) reserve driver for Red Bull Racing. Charles would be pissed if he found out she signed with his biggest rival, making her his biggest rival all over again.

Amelia and Charles have been rivals ever since they were little kids; mostly in karting and for a brief moment in Formula 2 as well. Right before Charles promoted to Formula 1, Amelia had an accident. Multiple bones were broken and she believed for a long time that her career had ended right there and then. Until Christian Horner, personally, offered her a contract.

There was a honk; the Uber arrived.

"I ordered some roomservice. You should come," Charles opened his hotel room. "I don't take no for an answer. You have to come and sober up a bit."

"No," Amelia said and tried opening a hotel room. "Why won't this door open?!"

"Because, Amelia, it is the wrong door." Charles took her wrist and for a moment Amelia felt a spark go through her entire body. Charles was hot when he tried to boss her around. He sat Amelia down on his bed and went to turn on his tv. Amelia giggled. "Your room is spinning. It feels so funny. My room did not spin."

Charles walked towards her with big steps and slowly pushed her down, so Amelia was laying on her back. "Try not to puke, okay?"

Amelia giggled again. "You are funny when you try to boss me around." But she listened and just kept laying on her back, staring at the ceiling.

"And you are exhausted when you're drunk." Charles took off his shirt, revealing his muscular body and found a place next to Amelia, who stared at his body. She followed his muscles and watched as his chest rises when he breathed in.

"You like the view?" Charles laughed. Well, of course Amelia liked the view. She has liked the view ever since Formula 2, but was grossed out by them being rivals. She still was grossed out by him being her rival, she couldn't be watching him like that. She shouldn't be watching him like that. But that was 'Sober Amelia' speaking; now was 'Drunk Amelia' in control.

Suddenly Amelia threw her legs over his, making her sit on his lap. Charles was clearly startled, but before he could react and before Amelia could give a second thought about it, she pressed her lips against those of Charles, who kissed her back. At first, it was pure lust. Amelia was drunk and liked the idea of spending the night with Charles, but it all changed when Charles laid one hand on her hip and the other one on her cheek, making the kiss more passionate. It unlocked a craving Amelia never knew she had. Charles pushed her a little closer and placed his lips on Amelia's ear. "You're drunk."

Amelia didn't answer, but drunkenly tried to take off his pants.

"Amelia, stop." Charles grabbed Amelia's hands and removed them from his body.

"No," Amelia moaned. "I want you, Charles." She tried to kiss him and laid her hands on his naked chest. "I want you so badly, right now."

Charles pushed Amelia off himself. "And I want you sober."

"Oh, you are going to regret this, Leclerc," Amelia stood up and walked with her shoes in her hand to the door. "Next time, you will have to beg to get me." Amelia slammed the door and walked to her now hotel room, which was on a totally different level as Charles'. She there found Max and Kelly in the hallway. "He... Hey Maxxie, hey Kells," she mumbled. "Is this my room? I was... I was in the wrong room. Charles was there."

Max and Kelly shared some worried looks. "Charles took you to his room?" Max asked concerned.

Amelia shrugged. "Nothing happened. He did not want me," she opened the door. "Hey, this is my room. Good night you two." Amelia walked into her room, but not before giving Max a wink.

Present time

Max and Checo both had a great qualification for the Mexican Grand Prix, where Max took pole and Sergio P3, with only Charles in between them. Speaking off, as time had passed Charles found out the hard way about Amelia's contract with Red Bull and he was pissed, to say the least. Charles didn't talk to Amelia for over a week and after that only when he really had to and even then he was never in a good mood and always had some snarky comments. He would make comments under his breath about her. He once said he was glad he rejected her 9 months ago, because it would have been his biggest mistake. The last time they talked was a week ago; where Amelia drove for Checo and placed P3, just behind Charles' P2.

Amelia snapped out of her thought by the sound of a loud, but constant, knocking on her door. Confused about who knocked on her door at 11:00PM (23:00u) she opened the door, but before she could take a look on who her visitor was, she felt warm lips pressed against hers. She tasted the bitter alcohol and when her mysterious kisser slipped their tongue in her mouth, she tasted the tequila. She pushed herself off her kisser and gasped for some air.

"Charles?! What the..."

"Please, Amelia..." He looked like shit; clearly he was drunk, his eyes were red and puffy, his hair looked like it wasn't brush all day and his clothes were soaked. Charles took a step towards Amelia, placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, again he pressed his lips against hers. Amelia just froze; but knew this was wrong. Very wrong.

"Charles, stop!" Amelia took a step backwards. "What's going on with you?"

"Please, Amelia... I want you... I will beg." Charles whined.

"I know you will, I told you that you had to."

"I am begging." Charles took her wrist, which Amelia quickly pulled back.

"You know I have a boyfriend! You have a girlfriend, for fuck sake!" Amelia was now yelling at him, berating him for his betrayal. But Charles just stood there and stared at her.

"She broke up," he whispered. "Charlotte broke up with me." And then he began crying, right in front of Amelia, the person who he had hated the past 9 months; or more likely tried to hate.

"Oh, Charles..." Amelia gave him a hug. "I am so sorry, come sit here".

Charles sat on her bed, following Amelia with his eyes as she went to get him some water. "So, you are serious with that guy?" He looked a bit disappointed. 'That guy', as Charles named him, was indeed Amelia's serious boyfriend. Charles knew about Amelia seeing someone, she had told him serval times when he rubbed it in her face he was with Charlotte and Amelia drunkenly wanting him. She just never gave Charles his name and she thought that was for the best.

"Yeah, of course. I am not sitting here and waiting for you. Last time was a mistake, Charles. I was drunk; you could've easily taken advantage of me."

He looked a bit mad with her choice of words. "A mistake? Right, good for us nothing actually happened." Charles' voice sounded broken.

"Charlotte broke up with you right before the Grand Prix?"

Charles nodded. "I guess there's another guy." He whispered. Amelia felt truly bad for him, but she didn't know what to do. Clearly he was in no state to be alone, as he had drunken himself by doing that. She looked at him with compassion; her rival since the karting days came to her, while he was still mad at her this morning, in his worst state ever and still managed to expect something out of it.

Charles shivered, his wet clothes must be cold and Amelia took notice. "Charles, lay down for me and just rest your eyes. I am going to help you out of your clothes, but nothing is going to happen, okay?"

He nodded and laid back, resting his head on a pillow. Amelia took off his shoes and went to unbuckle his belt. Charles looked up and smirked, creating soft dimples in his cheek. "Are you sure you don't want me anymore?"

Interesting choice of words; Amelia is never going to not want Charles.

"Lay down, Leclerc."

Charles rested his head on the pillow again and Amelia took off his shorts and shirt. She quickly threw the blanket over his shivering body. "Sleep tight, Charles. You will need it if you want to win that race tomorrow". Amelia give him a kiss on his cheek, before taking place next to him. The corners of his mouth were curled up in a sleepy smile as she kissed his cheek.

"And keep your hands off me, okay?"

"Hmm-mmh," sounded Charles. "You should tell Lando not to give you hickeys anymore."

A/N: I promise my writing and the story improves along the way. I've always struggled with writing a start, so please don't stop here yet ☺️