#I do hope to finish Good Luck Charm

[shinakazami1]

Just small info idk if anyone will notice but I'm taking a break from TSP :] I am so grateful to Tales from Borderlands as the game got me to once again make fanarts, read fanfics and want to create my own. First comes real life and I do hope to return as I have many unfinished projects to hopefully finish or ones to start but, we will see

[pucksandpower]

Be My Sanctuary

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles never expected to play Prince Charming to a stranger after a race, but when he comes across you being beaten by your boyfriend, he can’t just stand around and do nothing … it turns out to be exactly what you both needed

Warnings: domestic violence, abuse, and serious injury

The sun dips low on the horizon as Charles Leclerc and Fred Vasseur make their way back to the Ferrari motorhome. The air buzzes with post-race energy, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration.

“That was some driving out there,” Fred says, clapping the Monégasque on the back. “P2 is nothing to sneeze at.”

Charles grins, his eyes bright despite the fatigue etched on his face. “Merci beaucoup. It felt good to be back on the podium. I think we’re really starting to find our rhythm with the car.”

“Agreed. If we can keep this momentum going-”

A sharp crack cuts through the air, followed by a cry of pain that makes both men freeze in their tracks.

Charles’ head whips around. “Did you hear that?”

Fred nods, his expression grim. “It came from over there.” He points towards a secluded area behind one of the hospitality units.

Without hesitation, they break into a run, rounding the corner just in time to see a man’s hand connect with a woman’s face. The sound of the impact turns Charles’ stomach.

“You stupid bitch!” The man screams, his face contorted with rage. “Do you have any idea how much money I lost because of you? I told you not to come to the race! You’re bad luck!”

You stumble backward, your hand pressed to your cheek. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Shut up!” The man lunges forward, grabbing you by the arms and shaking you violently. “You cost me everything!”

Charles feels a surge of anger course through him. Without thinking, he sprints towards the pair, Fred close on his heels.

“Hey!” Charles shouts. “Let her go!”

The man’s head snaps up, his eyes wild. For a split second, he looks startled, but then his face twists into a snarl. Before Charles can reach them, the man slams your head against the brick wall with a sickening thud.

You crumple to the ground, unmoving.

Charles tackles the man, driving him away from the fallen woman. They hit the ground hard, and Charles feels the air rush out of his lungs. But adrenaline keeps him moving, and he manages to pin the larger man down.

“Fred!” He calls out. “Check on her!”

As Charles struggles to keep the man subdued, he hears Fred’s sharp intake of breath.

“Charles, she’s not responding. There’s ... there’s a lot of blood.”

The words send a chill down Charles’ spine. He glances over his shoulder and sees you lying motionless on the ground, a dark pool spreading beneath your head.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Charles shouts, hoping someone nearby will hear. He turns back to the man beneath him, who’s still thrashing and cursing. “Stop moving!” Charles hisses, pressing his forearm against the man’s chest.

“Get off me!” The man spits. “This is none of your business!”

Charles feels a fresh wave of rage wash over him. “None of my business? You just assaulted someone!”

Fred’s voice cuts through the chaos. “I’ve called for help. They’re on their way.” He’s kneeling beside you now, his jacket pressed against your head. “But it doesn’t look good. She needs immediate medical attention.”

The sound of running footsteps approaches, and suddenly there are more people around them. Charles recognizes some of the faces — other drivers, team personnel. Someone pulls him off the attacker, who’s quickly restrained by security.

Charles stumbles to his feet, his heart pounding. He makes his way over to where you lie, dropping to his knees beside Fred.

“Is she ...” He can’t bring himself to finish the question.

Fred shakes his head. “She’s alive, but barely. We need to keep pressure on the wound until the paramedics arrive.”

Charles nods, placing his hands over Fred’s on the makeshift compress. He looks down at your face, so pale and still. “Hold on,” he whispers. “Just hold on.”

The wait for the ambulance feels interminable. Charles keeps his eyes fixed on your chest, watching for the slight rise and fall that tells him you’re still breathing. He’s vaguely aware of the commotion around them — people asking questions, security trying to keep everyone back.

“What happened?” It’s Lewis’ voice, tinged with concern.

Fred answers, his voice low and tight. “Domestic violence. The boyfriend ...” He trails off, but the implication is clear.

“Jesus,” Lewis mutters. “Is there anything we can do?”

Charles looks up, meeting Lewis’ worried gaze. “Just ... pray, I guess.”

The sound of sirens cuts through the air, growing louder by the second. Charles feels a small measure of relief, but it’s quickly overshadowed by fear as he looks back down at you.

“Stay with us,” he murmurs. “Help is coming. Just stay with us.”

The paramedics arrive in a flurry of activity, gently but firmly moving Charles and Fred aside. Charles watches, feeling helpless, as they work on you with practiced efficiency.

“Severe head trauma,” one of them says. “We need to move her now.”

As they lift you onto a stretcher, Charles catches a glimpse of your face. There’s a bruise blooming on your cheek, stark against your pale skin. Something twists in his chest, a mixture of anger and an emotion he can’t quite name.

“I’m going with her,” he says suddenly, surprising himself.

Fred puts a hand on his shoulder. “Charles, I don’t think-”

“I need to make sure she’s okay,” Charles insists. He looks at Fred, pleading. “Someone needs to be there for her.”

After a moment, Fred nods. “Alright. I’ll handle things here and meet you at the hospital.”

Charles climbs into the ambulance, his eyes never leaving your still form. As the doors close and the vehicle lurches into motion, he reaches out and gently takes your hand.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he says softly, “but you’re not alone. I’m right here with you. And I promise, you’re going to be okay.”

As the ambulance speeds through the streets, sirens wailing, Charles finds himself holding onto your hand like a lifeline. He’s not sure if he’s trying to comfort you or himself.

The paramedic working on you glances at Charles. “You know her?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, I ... we just found her. Her boyfriend was ...” He swallows hard. “We stopped him, but not soon enough.”

The paramedic’s face softens with understanding. “You did the right thing. You probably saved her life by intervening when you did.”

Charles nods, but the words bring little comfort. He can’t shake the image of your head hitting the wall, the sound it made. He squeezes your hand gently.

“Fight,” he whispers. “Please fight.”

The rest of the ride passes in a blur of medical jargon and the steady beep of monitors. When they finally arrive at the hospital, Charles is ushered into a waiting room while you’re rushed into emergency surgery.

He paces the small room, unable to sit still. His mind races with questions. Who are you? Why would someone do this to you? Will you be okay?

Time seems to stretch endlessly. Charles checks his phone, sees messages from Fred and other concerned friends, but he can’t bring himself to respond yet. Not until he knows something.

Finally, after what feels like hours, a doctor approaches him. Charles stands, his heart in his throat.

“Are you here for the young woman brought in with head trauma?” The doctor asks.

Charles nods. “Yes. Is she ...”

“She’s out of surgery,” the doctor says. “We’ve managed to relieve the pressure on her brain, but the next 24 hours will be critical. Are you family?”

Charles hesitates. “No, I ... I was there when it happened. I rode here with her in the ambulance.”

The doctor’s expression softens slightly. “I see. Well, I can tell you that she’s stable for now, but still unconscious. We’ll be monitoring her closely.”

“Can I see her?” The words are out of Charles’ mouth before he can think better of it.

The doctor considers for a moment. “Normally we only allow family, but ... given the circumstances, I think we can make an exception. Just for a few minutes.”

Charles follows the doctor down a series of hallways, his heart pounding. When they reach your room, he pauses at the doorway, suddenly unsure.

“Go on,” the doctor says gently. “Talk to her. Sometimes patients can hear even when they’re unconscious.”

Taking a deep breath, Charles steps into the room. The sight of you lying there, surrounded by machines, makes his chest tighten. He moves to your bedside, carefully taking your hand once more.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s Charles. The guy from before. I don’t know if you remember, but ... I’m here. You’re safe now.”

He stands there for a long moment, just holding your hand and watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. It’s strange, he thinks, to feel so connected to someone he’s never even spoken to.

“I don’t know your story,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want you to know that you didn’t deserve this. No one does. And when you wake up — because you will wake up — you won’t be alone. I promise.”

A nurse appears in the doorway, signaling that his time is up. Charles gives your hand one last gentle squeeze before reluctantly letting go.

As he leaves the room, he turns back for one last look. “I’ll be back,” he says. “Stay strong.”

Walking back to the waiting room, Charles feels a mix of emotions he can’t quite sort out. But one thing is clear — something has changed. And whatever happens next, he knows he’ll be there to see it through.

***

Days blend into one another as Charles maintains his vigil at your bedside. The rest of the Formula 1 circus has long since departed, but Charles can’t bring himself to leave. He’s made arrangements with the team, grateful for their understanding, and settled into a routine of sorts.

Each morning, he arrives at the hospital with fresh flowers and a determination that today might be the day you wake up. He talks to you, reads to you, and sometimes just sits in companionable silence, the steady beep of monitors a constant backdrop.

On the fifth day, as Charles is midway through reading an article about the benefits of having a dachshund, he notices a slight change. Your fingers twitch, almost imperceptibly. He leans forward, heart racing.

“Hey,” he says softly, taking your hand. “Can you hear me? If you can, squeeze my hand.”

For a long moment, nothing happens. Then, so faintly he almost misses it, he feels a gentle pressure against his palm. His breath catches in his throat.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “You’re doing great. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Slowly, painfully slowly, your eyelids flutter open. Your gaze is unfocused at first, confusion evident in your expression as you try to make sense of your surroundings.

“It’s okay,” Charles says, keeping his voice low and soothing. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe now.”

You blink a few times, your gaze finally settling on Charles. Your brow furrows slightly, and you open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

“Don’t try to talk just yet,” Charles advises. “Your throat might be sore from the tube. Here.” He reaches for a cup of water with a straw, holding it to your lips. “Small sips, okay?”

You take a tentative sip, wincing slightly. After a moment, you try again to speak. Your voice is raspy, barely above a whisper. “Who ...”

“I’m Charles,” he says. “I was there when ... when you got hurt. Do you remember anything?”

You close your eyes, a pained expression crossing your face. “Jake,” you murmur. “He was angry ...”

Charles feels a flare of anger at the mention of your boyfriend’s name, but he keeps his voice calm. “That’s right. He hurt you pretty badly. But you’re safe now. He can’t get to you here.”

You shake your head slightly, wincing at the movement. “It wasn’t his fault,” you say. “He just ... he gets upset sometimes. I shouldn’t have gone to the race. I knew it would make him angry.”

Charles frowns, recognizing the pattern of self-blame common in abuse victims. He takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Listen,” he says gently. “What happened to you wasn’t your fault. No matter how angry someone gets, they don’t have the right to hurt you. Ever.”

You look away, tears welling up in your eyes. “You don’t understand. Jake ... he loves me. He just has a temper sometimes.”

“Love shouldn’t hurt,” Charles says firmly. “Love doesn’t leave you in the hospital with a skull fracture.”

Your eyes widen slightly at this information. “Is that ... is that what happened to me?”

Charles nods solemnly. “You’ve been unconscious for five days. The doctors ... they weren’t sure if you’d wake up at all.”

A tear slips down your cheek. “I don’t ... I don’t know what to do now.”

“You press charges,” Charles says without hesitation. “What he did to you was a crime. He needs to face the consequences of his actions.”

You shake your head frantically, wincing again at the movement. “No, I can’t. He’d be so angry. He ...”

“He would what?” Charles presses gently. “Hurt you again? That’s exactly why you need to do this. To protect yourself and maybe even others.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, tears falling silently. “I’m scared,” you finally whisper.

Charles squeezes your hand. “I know. And that’s okay. Being scared doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human. But you’re stronger than you know. You survived this. You can survive what comes next, too.”

“But where would I go?” You ask, your voice small. “Jake ... he made me drop out of school. I had to quit my job. I don’t have anywhere to go, or any money, or ...”

Your words trail off as a fresh wave of tears overtakes you. Charles feels a surge of protectiveness, coupled with a deep anger at the man who has left you in this situation.

“Hey,” he says softly, waiting until you meet his gaze. “I know we’ve only just met, and this might sound crazy, but ... what if you came to stay with me for a while?”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“I live in Monaco,” Charles explains. “I know it’s far from here, but maybe that’s a good thing. It would give you some distance, some time to figure things out without having to worry about ... about him finding you.”

“But ... but I couldn’t,” you stammer. “I don’t have any money, I can’t pay rent or-”

Charles shakes his head. “I’m not asking for rent. I’m offering you a safe place to stay while you get back on your feet. No strings attached.”

You look at him skeptically. “Why would you do that for a stranger?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, considering his answer. “Because when I saw what was happening to you, I couldn’t just walk away. And I can’t walk away now, knowing you need help. Maybe it’s not my place, maybe it’s crossing some line, but ... I want to help. If you’ll let me.”

You’re silent for a long moment, and Charles can almost see the wheels turning in your mind as you weigh your options.

“What about your job?” You finally ask. “Don’t you have races to go to?”

Charles nods. “I do. But I have a big apartment, and there’s plenty of room. You’d have your own space. And when I’m away for races, I have friends who could check in on you, make sure you have everything you need.”

You bite your lip, looking torn. “I don’t know ... it’s a lot to take in.”

“Of course,” Charles says quickly. “You don’t have to decide right now. Take some time to think about it. But know that the offer is there if you want it.”

Just then, a nurse enters the room. Her face lights up when she sees you’re awake. “Well, look who’s back with us,” she says warmly. “I’ll go get the doctor. He’ll want to check you over.”

As the nurse leaves, you turn back to Charles. “You should go,” you say. “You’ve already done so much. You don’t need to stay.”

Charles stands, but he doesn’t move towards the door. “I’ll step out while the doctor examines you,” he says. “But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to come back after. We can talk more about ... everything.”

You hesitate for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” you say softly. “And ... thank you. For being here. For caring.”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “Of course,” he says. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

As he steps into the hallway, Charles takes a deep breath. He knows he’s getting involved in a complicated situation, one that could have far-reaching consequences. But looking back at you through the doorway, he knows he’s made the right choice. Whatever comes next, he’ll be there to help you through it.

The doctor arrives, and Charles settles into a chair in the hallway. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through the messages he’s neglected over the past few days. There’s one from Fred, asking for an update. Charles types out a quick reply.

She’s awake. It’s complicated, but I think she’s going to be okay. I’ll call you later with details.

As he hits send, Charles leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He knows the road ahead won’t be easy, for either of you. But for the first time in days, he feels a spark of hope. It’s a start, he thinks. And sometimes, that’s all you need.

***

The sunlight glints off the sleek exterior of the private jet as Charles helps you up the stairs. He can feel the slight tremor in your hand as he guides you inside, noting the way your eyes dart nervously around the cabin.

“Welcome aboard,” Charles says with a warm smile, hoping to put you at ease. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ve got a bit of a flight ahead of us.”

You nod, your lips pressed into a thin line as you sink into one of the plush leather seats. Charles settles in across from you, watching as you fumble with the seatbelt.

“Here, let me help,” he offers, leaning forward to assist. As he clicks the belt into place, he notices your knuckles turning white as you grip the armrests. “First time flying?” He asks gently.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

Charles shakes his head, his expression kind. “Not at all. But I fly a lot, so I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting nervous passengers.”

The engines roar to life, and you jump slightly in your seat. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t realize I’d be this scared.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” Charles assures you. “It’s a completely normal fear. Did you know that even some drivers get nervous on planes?”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? But you guys race at insane speeds for a living.”

Charles chuckles. “I know, it sounds crazy. But it’s true. I think it’s about control. In a car, we’re in charge. On a plane, we have to trust someone else.”

You nod, seeming to relax slightly at his words. But as the plane begins to taxi, your grip on the armrests tightens again.

“So,” Charles says, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me about what you were studying before ... well, before everything happened.”

You look at him, confusion briefly replacing the fear in your eyes. “What?”

“You mentioned you had to drop out of school,” Charles explains. “What were you studying?”

A small laugh escapes you, tinged with irony. “You’re going to think this is ridiculous, but ... I was studying law.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Law? That’s impressive. Why would I think it’s ridiculous?”

You shrug, a hint of sadness creeping into your expression. “Just seems a bit ironic now, doesn’t it? Studying law and then ending up in a situation like ... like mine.”

The plane begins to accelerate down the runway, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Hey,” Charles says softly, reaching across to place his hand over yours. “Look at me. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. Charles can see the fear there, but also a flicker of determination.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Now, tell me more about your law studies. What made you choose that field?”

You take a deep breath, clearly making an effort to focus on the conversation rather than the plane’s ascent. “I’ve always been interested in justice, I guess. Helping people who can’t help themselves. I wanted to make a difference.”

Charles nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “That’s admirable. And you know what? I don’t think it’s ironic at all that you were studying law. If anything, I think it shows how strong you are.”

The plane levels off, and some of the tension leaves your body. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charles says, leaning back in his seat but keeping his hand on yours, “you chose a field dedicated to justice and helping others. That takes courage and compassion. The fact that you ended up in a difficult situation doesn’t change who you are at your core.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words. “I never thought about it like that,” you admit.

“Have you thought about going back to school?” Charles asks. “Finishing your degree?”

You shake your head, a flash of pain crossing your face. “I can’t. I don’t have the money, and even if I did, I can’t go back to my old university. Jake ... he knows where it is. He’d find me.”

Charles nods, understanding. “What if you didn’t have to go back to your old university? What if you could start fresh somewhere new?”

You look at him skeptically. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charles says, his mind racing with possibilities, “there are online programs you could look into. Or, if you prefer in-person classes, there’s the International University of Monaco. It’s a great school, and it would be close to where you’ll be staying.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Monaco has a university?”

Charles nods, a grin spreading across his face. “It does indeed. And they have a law program. I could help you look into it if you’re interested.”

You bite your lip, looking uncertain. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I was in school. And the cost ...”

“Don’t worry about the cost,” Charles says quickly. “Consider it an investment in your future. And as for being out of practice, well, that’s what studying is for, right?”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You make it sound so simple.”

Charles shrugs. “Maybe it is. Sometimes we overcomplicate things in our heads. But the truth is, if it’s something you want to do, there’s usually a way to make it happen.”

The plane encounters a patch of turbulence, causing it to shake slightly. Your grip on Charles’ hand tightens, but you don’t close your eyes this time.

“Sorry,” you mutter, loosening your grip slightly.

“No need to apologize,” Charles says. “I’m here if you need a hand to hold. Or a distraction. Speaking of which, why don’t you tell me about your favorite class from when you were in school?”

As you launch into a story about a particularly engaging Constitutional Law seminar, Charles can’t help but notice how your eyes light up. It’s the most animated he’s seen you since you woke up in the hospital, and it fills him with a sense of hope.

The rest of the flight passes in a blur of conversation. You tell Charles about your favorite professors, the most interesting cases you studied, and your obsession with Legally Blonde while growing up. In turn, Charles shares stories from his racing career, the challenges he’s faced, and the lessons he’s learned along the way.

Before either of you realize it, the captain’s voice comes over the intercom, announcing your descent into Nice.

“Oh,” you say, surprise evident in your voice. “We’re here already?”

Charles grins. “See? Not so bad, was it?”

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping you. “I guess not. Thank you, Charles. For ... well, for everything.”

As the plane touches down on the runway, Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “You’re welcome,” he says softly. “And hey, this is just the beginning, right?”

You nod, a mix of nervousness and excitement in your eyes. “Right. The beginning.”

The plane comes to a stop, and Charles stands, offering you his hand. “Ready to see your new home?”

You take a deep breath, then place your hand in his. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

As you make their way down the steps of the plane, Charles can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows the road ahead won’t be easy, but looking at you now, seeing the spark of determination in your eyes, he’s filled with hope for what the future might hold.

The Mediterranean sun greets them as they step onto the tarmac, warm and welcoming. Charles watches as you take in your surroundings, your eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, gazing at the azure sea in the distance.

Charles smiles, feeling a surge of pride for his home. “Wait until you see the rest of it. Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

As you walk towards the waiting Ferrari, Charles finds himself stealing glances at you. There’s still fear and uncertainty in your eyes, but there’s something else too — a resilience that he admires. He makes a silent promise to himself, right there on the sun-drenched tarmac of the Côte d’Azur, to do whatever he can to help you rebuild your life.

“So,” he says as you slide into the passenger seat, “shall we swing by the university on our way home? Just to have a look?”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. “Yeah,” you say, a small smile playing at your lips. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

***

The quiet of the night is shattered by a piercing scream. Charles bolts upright in his bed, heart racing, momentarily disoriented. Then realization hits him like a wave — it’s you.

Without hesitation, he leaps out of bed and races down the hallway to your room. He bursts through the door to find you thrashing in your sheets, eyes squeezed shut, still caught in the grip of your nightmare.

“No, Jake, please!” You cry out, your voice raw with fear. “Don’t hurt me!”

Charles is at your side in an instant, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey,” he says softly but firmly. “It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s just a dream.”

Your eyes fly open, wild and unfocused. For a moment, you recoil from his touch, still trapped between nightmare and reality.

“It’s me,” Charles says, keeping his voice calm. “It’s Charles. You’re in Monaco, remember? You’re safe here.”

Slowly, recognition dawns in your eyes. “Charles?” You whisper, your voice trembling.

He nods, offering a reassuring smile. “That’s right. I’m here. You’re okay.”

The tension leaves your body all at once, and you collapse against him, tears streaming down your face. Charles wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sob into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out between sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Charles soothes, running a hand gently up and down your back. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was just a nightmare.”

You pull back slightly, wiping at your tears with shaking hands. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I feel so stupid.”

Charles shakes his head firmly. “You’re not stupid. Nightmares are normal after what you’ve been through. And I’m glad I woke up. I want to be here for you.”

You take a shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself. “It felt so real,” you whisper. “I could feel his hands on me, hear his voice ...”

“But it wasn’t real,” Charles reminds you gently. “He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”

You nod, but Charles can see the lingering fear in your eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No, I ... I just want to forget.”

“Okay,” Charles says, understanding. “Is there anything I can do? Maybe get you some water or tea?”

You bite your lip, looking uncertain. “Could you ... would you mind staying? Just until I fall asleep?” The words come out in a rush, as if you’re afraid to ask.

Charles feels a surge of protectiveness. “Of course,” he says without hesitation. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

Relief washes over your face. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Charles helps you settle back against the pillows, then hesitates for a moment. “Is it okay if I ...” He gestures to the other side of the bed.

You nod, shifting over slightly to make room. Charles slips under the sheets, careful to maintain a respectful distance. But you surprise him by moving closer, seeking comfort in his presence.

“Is this okay?” You ask, your voice small.

“Of course,” Charles assures you. He opens his arms, offering an embrace without pressure. “Whatever you need.”

You hesitate for just a moment before curling into his side, your head resting on his chest. Charles wraps his arms around you, feeling the rapid beat of your heart against his side.

“Try to relax,” he murmurs. “Focus on your breathing. In and out, nice and slow.”

You nod against his chest, making a conscious effort to steady your breathing. Charles can feel some of the tension leaving your body as the minutes tick by.

“Charles?” You say after a while, your voice soft in the darkness.

“Hmm?”

“How do you do it?” You ask. “How do you stay so calm and ... and kind, even when I’m such a mess?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, considering his words. “You’re not a mess,” he says finally. “You’re healing. And that takes time. As for staying calm ... well, I’ve had my own struggles. I know what it’s like to need someone in your corner.”

You lift your head slightly, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

Charles takes a deep breath. He’s never been one to open up easily, but something about the quiet intimacy of the moment makes him want to share.

“Seven years ago now, I lost my father,” he says softly. “It was ... it was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. There were nights when I thought the pain would swallow me whole. But I had people who stood by me, who helped me through it. They taught me the importance of being there for others in their darkest moments.”

You’re silent for a long moment, absorbing his words. “I’m so sorry about your father,” you say finally. “That must have been awful.”

Charles nods, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. “It was. But it also taught me something important. Pain doesn’t last forever. It changes you, yes, but it doesn’t define you. You can come out the other side stronger.”

“Do you really believe that?” You ask, a hint of doubt in your voice.

“I do,” Charles says firmly. “I’ve seen it in myself, and I see it in you too. You’re stronger than you know.”

You’re quiet again, and Charles can almost hear the wheels turning in your mind. “I want to believe that,” you say eventually. “But sometimes it feels like ... like I’ll never be whole again.”

Charles tightens his embrace slightly. “Healing isn’t about going back to who you were before,” he says. “It’s about becoming someone new. Someone who carries the lessons of the past but isn’t defined by them.”

You nod slowly, considering his words. “That makes sense,” you admit. “It’s just ... it’s hard to see that future sometimes.”

“I know,” Charles says softly. “But that’s why you’re not alone in this. I’m here to remind you of that future when you can’t see it yourself.”

You lift your head again, meeting his gaze in the dim light. “Why are you doing all this for me? You barely know me.”

Charles is struck by the vulnerability in your eyes. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.

“Because when I saw you that day, something inside me just ... knew I had to help,” he says. “I can’t explain it rationally. But I believe that sometimes, people come into our lives for a reason. Maybe I’m meant to help you heal. Or maybe you’re meant to teach me something. I don’t know. But I do know that I want to be here for you, if you’ll let me.”

You study his face for a long moment, as if searching for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, you lay your head back on his chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says. “Just focus on healing. And remember, you’re not alone in this.”

You nod against his chest, and Charles can feel your body relaxing further. Your breathing becomes slower, more even, and he knows you’re drifting off to sleep.

As the night deepens around you, Charles finds himself wide awake, acutely aware of your warm presence against him. He’s never been in a situation quite like this before, and he’s surprised by how natural it feels.

He thinks about the past few days, about the small victories you’ve already achieved. The way your eyes lit up when you toured the university campus. The quiet determination in your voice when you asked about application procedures. The shy smile that appeared when he showed you around Monaco.

Charles knows the road ahead won’t be easy. There will likely be more nights like this, more nightmares to soothe. But looking down at your peaceful face, finally relaxed in sleep, he feels a surge of hope.

Whatever challenges lie ahead, he’ll be there to face them with you. And somehow, he knows that together, you’ll both come out stronger on the other side.

As the first light of dawn begins to creep through the windows, Charles finally feels his own eyes growing heavy. He allows himself to drift off, still holding you close, a silent promise of protection in his embrace.

In the quiet of the early morning, as the world outside begins to stir, there’s a sense of peace in the room. It’s fragile, perhaps, but it’s there. And for now, in this moment, it’s enough.

***

The first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Charles stirs, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He feels a weight against his chest and looks down to see you still nestled in his arms, your breathing deep and even.

For a moment, he simply watches you sleep, struck by how peaceful you look compared to the night before. He’s careful not to move, not wanting to disturb your rest. But as the room grows brighter, he sees your eyelids begin to flutter.

You blink awake, confusion briefly clouding your features before recognition sets in. “Charles?” You murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” he says softly, offering a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

You shift slightly, seeming to become aware of your position. A blush creeps across your cheeks as you pull back a bit. “I’m ... I’m okay,” you say. “I’m sorry about last night. You didn’t have to stay.”

Charles shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I wanted to stay. I’m just glad you were able to get some rest.”

You nod, running a hand through your tousled hair. “Thank you,” you say quietly. “For everything. I don’t know what I would have done if ...”

Your voice trails off, but Charles understands. “Hey,” he says, gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You don’t need to think about that. You’re here now, and you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You’re right. I just ... I’m not used to someone being so kind without expecting anything in return.”

Charles feels a pang in his chest at your words. “Well, get used to it,” he says, injecting a lightness into his tone. “Because that’s just how things work in the Leclerc household.”

You laugh softly, the sound warming Charles from the inside out. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” Charles grins. “It’s in the contract. Kindness, comfort, and an abundance of croissants. Speaking of which, are you hungry? I could whip up some breakfast.”

You nod, sitting up slowly. “Breakfast sounds great. But you don’t have to cook. I can manage.”

Charles waves off your protest as he sits up as well. “Nonsense. I insist. Besides, I make a mean omelette. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried my secret recipe.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Secret recipe, huh? Do I get to know what’s in it?”

Charles taps the side of his nose conspiratorially. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, would it? You’ll just have to trust me.”

As he moves to get out of bed, a thought strikes him. He hesitates for a moment, then turns back to you. “Actually, before we head to the kitchen, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

You look at him curiously, a hint of apprehension in your eyes. “Oh?”

Charles takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous. “I was wondering if ... well, if you might want to come to my next race with me?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Your next race?”

Charles nods, watching your reaction carefully. “Yeah. It’s in a couple of weeks. I thought maybe a change of scenery might be good for you. Plus, you’d get to see what I do up close. But if it’s too soon, or if you’re not comfortable with the idea, I completely understand.”

You’re quiet for a moment, biting your lip as you consider his offer. “I don’t know,” you say hesitantly. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just ... the last time I was at a race ...”

Understanding dawns on Charles’s face. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, I should have thought of that. We don’t have to go if it brings up bad memories.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, it’s not that. Well, not entirely. It’s just ... I’m worried about being recognized. What if Jake sees me on TV or something?”

Charles leans forward, his expression serious. “Hey, look at me. If you come to the race, you’ll be under the full protection of the team. No one gets near the garage without proper clearance. And as for TV, well, we can make sure you’re not caught on camera if that’s what you want.”

You still look uncertain. “But won’t people wonder who I am? I don’t want to cause any trouble for you or your team.”

Charles can’t help but smile at your concern. “Trust me, the team has dealt with far more complicated situations than this. If anyone asks, we’ll simply say you’re a family friend. No one needs to know the details.”

He watches as you mull over his words, hope building in his chest. Finally, you look up at him, a small smile playing at your lips. “You really want me to come?”

Charles nods emphatically. “I really do. I think it could be good for you. A chance to create some new, positive memories associated with racing. Plus,” he adds with a grin, “I’d love for you to see me in action. I promise I’ll try to put on a good show.”

You laugh, the sound lightening the mood in the room. “Oh, is that so? Pretty confident, aren’t you?”

Charles shrugs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”

You shake your head in amusement, but Charles can see you’re still hesitating. “You don’t have to decide right now,” he says gently. “Take some time to think about it. The offer stands whenever you’re ready.”

You nod, looking grateful for the lack of pressure. “Thank you, Charles. I’ll think about it, I promise.”

“That’s all I ask,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Now, how about that breakfast? I believe I promised you a life-changing omelette.”

As you make your way to the kitchen, Charles can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows he’s taking a risk by inviting you to the race so soon, but something tells him it’s the right move. He’s seen glimpses of your strength over the past few days, and he believes that this could be a crucial step in your healing process.

In the kitchen, Charles busies himself with preparing breakfast, stealing glances at you as you settle at the counter. You still look a bit hesitant, but there’s a spark in your eyes that wasn’t there before.

“So,” he says as he cracks eggs into a bowl, “while you’re thinking about the race, why don’t you tell me more about your law studies? Any particular area you’re most interested in?”

You perk up at the question, and Charles listens intently as you launch into an enthusiastic explanation of your passion for human rights law. As he watches you speak, animated and engaged, he feels a warmth spread through his chest.

This, he thinks, is what healing looks like. Small steps, day by day, reclaiming pieces of yourself. And if he can play even a small part in that process, well, that’s a victory more satisfying than any podium finish.

As he serves up the omelettes, Charles makes a silent promise to himself. Whatever you decide about the race, whatever challenges lie ahead, he’ll be there. Supporting you, cheering you on, just as fiercely as any fan in the grandstands.

Because in this moment, watching you take your first bite and exclaim over his “secret recipe,” Charles realizes something important. In helping you find your strength, he’s discovering new depths of his own.

***

The energy in the paddock is electric as Charles makes his way to the Ferrari garage. He can feel the excitement buzzing through the air, the anticipation of the race to come. But today, there’s an extra flutter in his stomach that has nothing to do with pre-race jitters.

He spots you standing near the back of the garage, looking a bit overwhelmed by the flurry of activity around you. Your eyes light up when you see him, and he can’t help but smile.

“Hey,” he says, approaching you. “How are you holding up?”

You give him a small smile. “It’s ... a lot. But exciting. I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

Charles nods, understanding. “I know it can be overwhelming at first. But you’re doing great. And I have a little surprise for you.”

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity. “A surprise? Charles, you didn’t have to-”

He cuts you off with a grin. “I wanted to. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Charles leads you to a quieter corner of the garage where his race gear is laid out. He picks up his helmet, turning it so you can see the design.

Your eyes widen as you spot the purple ribbon painted prominently on the side. “Is that ...”

Charles nods, his expression softening. “A domestic violence awareness ribbon. I had it added for this race.”

You’re quiet for a moment, your fingers hovering over the ribbon without quite touching it. When you look up at Charles, your eyes are shining with unshed tears. “Why?” You ask softly.

Charles takes a deep breath. “Because I want to use my platform to raise awareness. And because ...” he pauses, meeting your gaze, “because I want you to know that you’re not alone. That there are people out there who care and want to help.”

You blink rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “Charles, I don’t know what to say. This is ... it’s incredible.”

He reaches out, gently squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know that when I’m out there on the track today, I’m racing for you and for everyone who’s been in your position.”

You nod, unable to speak. Charles understands the emotions you’re feeling — he’s feeling them too.

A voice calls out from across the garage. “Charles! Five minutes!”

Charles turns back to you. “I’ve got to go get ready. Will you be okay?”

You take a deep breath, composing yourself. “I’ll be fine. Go. And Charles?” You meet his eyes, a small smile on your face. “Thank you. For everything.”

He nods, giving your hand one last squeeze before heading off to finish his pre-race preparations.

The race itself is a blur of adrenaline and focus. Charles pushes himself to the limit, hyper-aware of the special helmet he’s wearing and what it represents. When he crosses the finish line in second place, his heart is pounding with more than just exertion.

As he pulls into parc fermé, Charles can see the crowd of reporters already gathering. He takes a deep breath, knowing what’s coming. Sure enough, as soon as he steps foot in the media pen, he’s surrounded by microphones and cameras.

“Charles! Congratulations on P2!” One reporter calls out. “But everyone’s talking about your helmet today. Can you tell us about the ribbon?”

Charles nods, his expression turning serious. “The ribbon on my helmet today is a symbol of awareness for domestic violence. It’s an issue that affects millions of people around the world, and I wanted to use this platform to bring attention to it.”

Another reporter jumps in. “Was there a specific reason you chose this race to highlight this cause?”

Charles pauses, carefully considering his words. “I believe that as public figures, we have a responsibility to use our voices for good. Domestic violence is a problem that often stays hidden, and I want to help bring it into the light.”

“Will the helmet be part of any specific initiative?” A third reporter asks.

Charles nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yes, actually. I’m going to be auctioning off this helmet, with all proceeds going to charities that combat domestic violence and support survivors.”

There’s a murmur of approval from the gathered press. “That’s a wonderful gesture,” one reporter says. “Can you tell us more about why this cause is so important to you?”

Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes briefly scanning the crowd. He spots you standing at the back, partially hidden behind a barrier. Your eyes meet, and he draws strength from your presence.

“It’s important because it’s a problem that affects so many people, yet it’s often overlooked or ignored,” Charles says, his voice steady and clear. “I ... I have seen firsthand the devastating impact it can have on someone’s life. And I want to do whatever I can to help break the cycle of violence and provide support for those who need it.”

There’s a moment of silence as the reporters absorb his words. Then the questions start flying again.

“Have you partnered with any specific organizations for this initiative?”

“Do you plan to continue raising awareness for this cause in future races?”

“How do you balance your focus on racing with your desire to address social issues?”

Charles answers each question thoughtfully, his passion for the cause evident in every word. As the press conference winds down, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride. Not just for his performance on the track, but for using his platform to make a difference.

As he makes his way back to the Ferrari garage, Charles spots you waiting for him. Your eyes are bright with emotion, and he can see the pride and gratitude written all over your face.

“That was amazing,” you say as he approaches. “I can’t believe you did all that.”

Charles shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “It was the least I could do. I hope it helps, even if it’s just a little bit.”

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “A little bit? Charles, do you have any idea how much impact something like this can have? You just brought attention to this issue in front of millions of people.”

He nods, the weight of what he’s done starting to sink in. “I just hope it makes a difference. That it helps someone out there feel less alone.”

You reach out, squeezing his hand. “It already has,” you say softly.

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, a voice calls out from behind him.

“Charles! A word?”

Charles turns to see a familiar face — Federica, a respected journalist he’s known for years. She approaches with a warm smile, notepad in hand.

“Federica,” Charles greets her. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” she replies. “That was quite a statement you made out there today. I was hoping we could talk a bit more about it. Off the record, if you prefer.”

Charles glances at you, silently asking if you’re okay with this. You nod encouragingly.

“Sure,” Charles says. “What would you like to know?”

Federica’s expression turns serious. “I’ve known you for a while now. This isn’t just a random cause you’ve picked up. There’s a personal connection here, isn’t there?”

Charles takes a deep breath, weighing his words carefully. He feels you shift closer to him, offering silent support.

“You’re right,” he says finally. “It is personal. I can’t go into details, but ... I’ve seen up close how devastating domestic violence can be. And I realized that I had an opportunity to do something about it.”

Federica nods, her eyes softening with understanding. “That’s very brave of you, Charles. Both to take this stand and to admit the personal connection. Can I ask what made you decide to do it now?”

Charles glances at you again, a small smile playing at his lips. “Let’s just say I’ve been inspired by someone very brave. Someone who showed me that it’s possible to turn pain into purpose.”

Federica follows his gaze, her eyebrows raising slightly as she notices you for the first time. “I see,” she says, a knowing look in her eye. “Well, I think what you’re doing is wonderful. And I would be happy to help spread the word about the helmet auction, if you’d like.”

Charles nods gratefully. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

As Federica walks away, Charles turns back to you. “I hope that was okay,” he says softly. “I didn’t want to say too much, but ...”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “It was perfect. Really. I ... I don’t know how to thank you for all of this.”

Charles reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to thank me. Seeing you here, seeing how far you’ve come ... that’s all the thanks I need.”

For a moment, you just look at each other, a wealth of unspoken emotions passing between you. Then, impulsively, you step forward and wrap your arms around Charles in a tight hug.

He returns the embrace without hesitation, holding you close. In that moment, surrounded by the noise and chaos of the paddock, Charles feels a sense of peace wash over him.

This, he thinks, is what really matters. Not the podiums or the points, but the ability to make a difference. To help someone heal and find their strength again.

As you pull back from the hug, Charles sees something new in your eyes. A spark of determination, of hope for the future. And he knows, without a doubt, that this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

***

The late afternoon sun streams through the windows of Charles’ Monaco apartment, warming the living room. Charles is sprawled on the couch, idly scrolling through his phone, when he hears a sudden gasp from the kitchen.

“Oh my god,” your voice carries through the apartment, a mix of shock and something else Charles can’t quite place.

He sits up, instantly alert. “Everything okay?” He calls out, already moving towards the kitchen.

You appear in the doorway, your face flushed and your eyes wide. You’re clutching your phone like a lifeline, and there’s an energy radiating from you that Charles has never seen before.

“I ... I got in,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles furrows his brow, confused for a moment before realization dawns. “The university? You heard back?”

You nod, a smile breaking across your face like the sun emerging from behind clouds. “I got in, Charles. They accepted me!”

The joy in your voice is infectious, and Charles feels his own face split into a grin. “That’s amazing!” He exclaims, stepping towards you. “I knew you could do it!”

What happens next seems to unfold in slow motion. You close the distance between you in two quick steps, and before Charles can process what’s happening, your lips are on his.

The kiss is brief, a burst of spontaneous happiness, but it sends a jolt through Charles’ entire body. For a split second, he’s frozen, his mind struggling to catch up with the reality of your lips against his.

But as quickly as it began, it’s over. You pull back abruptly, your eyes wide with shock at your own actions. “Oh god,” you stammer, taking a step back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ... I was just excited and I ...”

Charles can see the panic rising in your eyes, the fear that you’ve crossed a line. He wants to reassure you, to tell you that it’s okay, more than okay, but you’re already backing away, words tumbling out in a rush.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please don’t be mad, I-”

“Hey,” Charles cuts in gently, reaching out to catch your hand before you can retreat further. “Stop apologizing.”

You freeze, uncertainty written all over your face. “But I-”

Charles shakes his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact ...” he takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You ... you have?”

Charles nods, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “I have. But I didn’t want to rush you. I wanted to give you time to heal, to find yourself again.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing his words. “So you’re not ... upset?”

Charles can’t help but chuckle. “Upset? No, definitely not upset. More like ... thrilled. And maybe a little disappointed in myself for not making the first move.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Really?”

“Really,” Charles confirms. He takes a step closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “In fact, if you’re okay with it, I’d really like to kiss you again. Properly this time.”

You nod, a mix of nervousness and anticipation in your eyes. “I’d like that,” you whisper.

Charles leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to change your mind. But you don’t pull away. Instead, you meet him halfway, your lips connecting in a kiss that’s soft and sweet and full of promise.

This time, Charles is fully present in the moment. He savors the feeling of your lips against his, the warmth of your body as you step closer. His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

When you finally break apart, you’re both a little breathless. Charles rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing at his lips.

“Wow,” you murmur.

“Yeah,” Charles agrees. “Wow indeed.”

For a moment, you just stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Then Charles remembers what started all this.

“So,” he says, pulling back slightly to meet your eyes. “You got into law school. We should celebrate!”

You laugh, the sound light and carefree in a way Charles has never heard before. “I almost forgot about that for a second there.”

Charles grins. “Well, we can’t have that. It’s not every day you get accepted to study law at the International University of Monaco. This calls for champagne!”

He starts to move towards the kitchen, but you tug on his hand, pulling him back. “Wait,” you say softly. “Before we celebrate ... can we talk about this?” You gesture between the two of you.

Charles nods, his expression turning serious. “Of course. What do you want to know?”

You bite your lip, suddenly looking uncertain. “I just ... where do we go from here? I mean, I like you, Charles. A lot. But I’m still ... I’m still healing. And I don’t want to complicate things or ruin our friendship if-”

Charles cuts you off gently, taking both of your hands in his. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. When you meet his gaze, he continues. “I like you too. A lot. And I understand that you’re still healing. I don’t want to rush anything or pressure you in any way.”

You nod, relief evident in your eyes. “So what do we do?”

Charles smiles. “We take it slow. We keep being friends, but we also explore these new feelings. And most importantly, we communicate. If at any point you feel overwhelmed or want to slow things down, you tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, a small smile playing at your lips. “And what if ... what if I want to speed things up sometimes?”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. “Then we can do that too. As long as we’re both comfortable and on the same page.”

You nod, looking more relaxed now. “I think I can handle that.”

“Good,” Charles says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Now, about that champagne ...”

As Charles moves to the kitchen to fetch the bottle, he can’t help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. This thing between you is new and fragile, but it’s also full of potential. And he’s determined to nurture it, to give it the time and care it needs to grow into something beautiful.

He returns with two glasses and the champagne, finding you settled on the couch. As he pours, he can’t help but steal glances at you. There’s a glow about you that has nothing to do with the afternoon sun — it’s the light of new beginnings, of hope for the future.

“A toast,” Charles says, handing you a glass. “To new adventures in education and ... other areas.”

You laugh, clinking your glass against his. “To new adventures,” you agree.

As you sip the champagne, a comfortable silence falls between you. Charles finds himself marveling at how far you’ve come in the past few months. From the scared, broken woman he first met to this confident woman embarking on a new chapter of her life.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, noticing his contemplative expression.

Charles smiles. “Just ... how proud I am of you. You’ve come so far, and now you’re starting this new journey. It’s inspiring.”

You blush slightly at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without you, you know. Your support has meant everything.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Charles insists. “But I’m glad I could help. And I’ll be here to support you through your studies too. Although,” he adds with a grin, “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be with law textbooks.”

You laugh, leaning into him slightly. “I’m sure you’ll find ways to be helpful. Moral support is important too, you know.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I’m your man. Moral support is my specialty.”

As the afternoon fades into evening, you and Charles talk about everything and nothing. You discuss your hopes for university, your fears, your dreams for the future. Charles shares stories from his racing career, anecdotes he’s never told anyone else.

And through it all, there’s a new undercurrent of electricity between you. A spark ignited by that spontaneous kiss, fueled by the promise of something more.

As the sky outside turns a deep indigo, Charles finds himself marveling at the unexpected turns life can take. A few months ago, he was just a driver focused on his next win. Now, he’s sitting here with you, on the cusp of something that feels bigger and more important than any championship.

“What are you smiling about?” You ask, noticing his expression.

Charles pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Just thinking about how sometimes the best things in life are the ones you never see coming.”

You snuggle into his side, a contented sigh escaping you. “I couldn’t agree more.”

***

Five Years Later

The sun shines brightly on the streets of Monaco as Charles stands before a modest but elegant building, his heart swelling with pride. He glances at you, standing beside him in a crisp power suit, your eyes sparkling with excitement and determination. It’s a look he’s come to know well over the past five years, but today it seems to shine even brighter.

“Are you ready for this?” Charles asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You turn to him, a radiant smile spreading across your face. “I’ve been ready for this my whole life,” you reply, your voice steady and sure.

Charles feels a surge of love and admiration wash over him. He remembers the scared, broken woman he met all those years ago, and marvels at the strong, confident woman you’ve become. His wife. His partner in every sense of the word.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice calls out, drawing their attention to the small crowd gathered before them. “We are here today to celebrate the grand opening of the Leclerc Center for Domestic Violence Support and Legal Aid.”

A round of applause breaks out, and Charles feels you squeeze his hand tighter. He knows how much this moment means to you, how hard you’ve worked to make it a reality.

The speaker, a distinguished-looking woman in her fifties, continues. “This center represents a beacon of hope for those who have suffered in silence, a promise that they are not alone, and that help is available. And we have two very special people to thank for making this dream a reality.”

She gestures towards Charles and you. “Charles and Y/N, would you like to say a few words before we cut the ribbon?”

Charles looks at you, silently asking if you want to speak first. You nod, stepping forward with the confidence of someone who has found their true calling.

“Thank you all for being here today,” you begin, your voice clear and strong. “This center is more than just a building. It’s a promise. A promise to every person out there who’s suffering in an abusive relationship that there is hope, there is help, and there is a way out.”

Charles watches you speak, feeling a swell of pride. He remembers the countless late nights you spent poring over law books, the tears of frustration and determination as you fought your way through law school. And now here you are, a fully qualified attorney, using your hard-earned skills to help others who were once in your position.

“I stand here today not just as a lawyer, not just as the co-founder of this center, but as someone who has been where many of our future clients are right now,” you continue, your voice wavering slightly with emotion. “I know the fear, the doubt, the feeling of being trapped. But I also know the incredible strength that lies within each survivor. And it is my deepest hope that this center will help them find that strength, just as I did.”

As you step back, wiping a tear from your eye, Charles pulls you into a quick, supportive hug before stepping forward himself.

“When I met my wife five years ago,” he begins, his voice thick with emotion, “I was just a driver who thought he had it all figured out. But she opened my eyes to a world I knew little about, and showed me that sometimes the most important battles are the ones fought off the track.”

He pauses, looking out at the crowd. He sees familiar faces — fellow drivers who’ve supported this project, team members who’ve become like family, and new faces too — survivors, advocates, people who believe in the mission of this center.

“This center is a dream that we’ve shared for years,” Charles continues. “A dream of creating a safe space where survivors can find legal support, counseling, and most importantly, hope. And while I may not be the one providing legal advice,” he adds with a chuckle, earning a laugh from the crowd, “I promise to support this center and its mission in every way I can.”

He turns to you, his eyes shining with love and admiration. “And to my incredible wife, who has been the driving force behind all of this — thank you. For your strength, your determination, and for showing me what true courage looks like every single day.”

As Charles steps back, the crowd erupts in applause. You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as the official hands you a large pair of scissors.

“Are you ready to do the honors?” The official asks.

You and Charles share a look, years of unspoken understanding passing between you in that moment. Together, you step forward, positioning the scissors at the purple ribbon stretched across the entrance.

“On the count of three,” the official announces. “One ... two ... three!”

With a satisfying snip, the ribbon falls away. The crowd cheers, and cameras flash as you and Charles stand before the open doors of the center, your shared dream finally a reality.

As the crowd begins to file inside for the reception, you turn to Charles, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “We did it,” you whisper. “We really did it.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, not caring about the cameras still flashing around them. “You did it,” he murmurs into your hair. “I just followed your lead.”

You pull back, shaking your head with a fond smile. “We’re a team, remember?”

Charles laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “How could I forget?”

As you make your way inside, greeting guests and answering questions, Charles finds himself reflecting on the journey that brought you both to this moment. The ups and downs, the challenges and triumphs, all leading to this day.

A familiar face approaches — Federica, the journalist who had interviewed Charles after that fateful race five years ago. “Charles, Y/N,” she greets you warmly. “Congratulations on this amazing achievement. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

You nod, your professional demeanor sliding into place. “Of course. What would you like to know?”

“This center is quite different from the usual celebrity charity projects,” Federica begins. “Can you tell me what inspired you to take such a hands-on approach?”

You and Charles share a look, silently deciding who should answer. Charles gives a small nod, encouraging you to take the lead.

“For us, this isn’t about charity in the traditional sense,” you explain. “It’s about using our resources and platform to create real, tangible change. As a survivor myself, I know firsthand how crucial legal support can be in escaping an abusive situation. But I also know how intimidating and overwhelming the legal system can seem.”

Charles watches as you speak, marveling at your eloquence and passion. He remembers the early days of your relationship, when you would sometimes struggle to find your voice. Now, you command the room with ease.

“Our goal with this center,” you continue, “is to provide comprehensive support — legal aid, counseling, practical assistance — all under one roof. We want to remove as many barriers as possible for those seeking help.”

Federica nods, scribbling in her notepad. “And Charles,” she turns to him, “how do you see your role in all of this?”

Charles straightens, his expression serious. “My role is to support this center and its mission in every way I can. Whether that’s using my platform to raise awareness, helping to secure funding, or simply being here to show that everyone can and should be allies in this fight against domestic violence.”

You reach for his hand, giving it a squeeze. Charles feels a surge of gratitude for your unwavering support, both in this project and in his career.

“And how do you balance this work with racing?” Federica asks.

Charles smiles. “It’s all about priorities. Racing is my passion, but this center, and the work we do here, that’s my purpose. I’m fortunate to have a team and sponsors who understand and support that.”

As Federica thanks the two of you and moves on to speak with other guests, Charles turns to you. “You were amazing,” he says softly. “I’m so proud of you.”

You lean into him slightly, a soft smile playing at your lips. “We were amazing,” you correct him. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

Before Charles can respond, another guest approaches, asking for a tour of the facilities. As you lead the way, explaining the various services the center will offer, Charles hangs back slightly, simply observing.

He watches as you point out the private consultation rooms, the children’s play area designed to make the center welcoming for families, the state-of-the-art security systems put in place to ensure client safety. Your eyes light up as you describe the pro bono legal services, the partnerships with local shelters and support groups, the education and prevention programs you hope to implement.

In this moment, seeing you in your element, Charles is struck anew by how far you’ve both come. From that terrifying night in the paddock to this day of hope and new beginnings, it’s been a journey neither of you could have anticipated.

As the day winds down and the last of the guests depart, Charles finds you standing in the main reception area, looking around with a mix of awe and determination.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You lean into him, letting out a contented sigh. “I was just thinking about all the lives we’re going to change here. All the people we’re going to help.”

Charles presses a kiss to your temple. “You’ve already changed so many lives, you know. Including mine.”

You turn to face him, your eyes shining with love and gratitude. “We’ve changed each other’s lives. And now we get to pay it forward.”

As Charles looks at you, his partner in every sense of the word, he knows that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. Just as you always have.

“Ready to go home?” He asks softly.

You nod, taking one last look around the center. “Yes,” you say, your voice filled with quiet determination. “But we’ll be back bright and early tomorrow. We’ve got work to do.”

Charles smiles, taking your hand as you walk towards the exit. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : FALLING FOR THE SPOTLIGHT (PT.1) : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff!!!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: RPF

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You interview for a personal assistant position with Hugh Jackman over Zoom. Despite initial nerves, Hugh’s charm and playful teasing create a connection, making the conversation feel both professional and surprisingly personal. By the end, you sense a special chemistry and eagerly await his decision.

Next Part

YOU SAT AT THE SMALL DINING TABLE IN YOUR APARTMENT, tapping your fingers against the edge of your laptop as the screen glowed faintly. Across the room, Zoë, your best friend and roommate, was lounging on the couch, casually flipping through her phone. She glanced up at you, smirking as she noticed your nervous energy.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, her voice teasing but affectionate.

You shot her a nervous smile. "Barely. I mean, it's Hugh Jackman... Hugh freaking Jackman. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Zoë laughed, sitting up and tossing her phone aside. "Oh, you’re going to do great. You’ve got this. You just graduated with a degree in media, you know your stuff. And besides, he’s going to love you."

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, staring at the blank screen, your mind still whirling. "You didn’t have a massive celebrity crush on him for, like, half your life."

Zoë grinned knowingly. "True, but that’s exactly why you'll nail it. You’ve been preparing for this moment without even realizing it."

You gave her a mock glare, but deep down, you appreciated her confidence in you. It was a dream scenario—working as Hugh Jackman’s personal assistant. When you saw the job posting online, you didn’t even hesitate to apply, though you never imagined you’d get an interview, let alone one scheduled so quickly. And now, here you were, waiting for a Zoom call with the man himself. The idea of seeing Hugh in real-time, talking to him, hearing his voice directed at you, was enough to send your heart racing.

The laptop chimed suddenly, breaking your thoughts. The screen lit up with an incoming Zoom call.

Zoë jumped up, wide-eyed. "That’s him, isn’t it?"

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. "It’s happening. Oh God, it’s happening."

She scurried over to stand behind you, giving your shoulders a quick squeeze. "Good luck! You’ve got this."

You took a deep breath, clicked to accept the call, and the screen shifted to show none other than Hugh Jackman. His face appeared, smiling warmly into the camera as he adjusted the angle. He looked even more handsome than you’d imagined—salt-and-pepper hair, sharp features, and that trademark grin that could melt a million hearts. The casual blue T-shirt he wore only added to his approachable charm.

“G'day!” His voice was warm, rich, and effortlessly charming. “Can you hear me okay?”

You smiled nervously and nodded. “Yes! I can hear you perfectly. Hi, Mr. Jackman. I mean, Hugh. Sorry. Hi.”

Hugh laughed softly, and the sound of it eased some of your nerves. “No worries at all. And please, just call me Hugh. ‘Mr. Jackman’ makes me feel old.”

You giggled despite yourself, the tension in your shoulders loosening slightly. “Okay, Hugh it is.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “So, how are you today? I know interviews can be a bit nerve-wracking.”

"Just a little," you admitted with a sheepish smile. "But I’m excited, too. It's a really amazing opportunity, and I’m just happy to be here."

"That’s the spirit," Hugh replied, leaning forward slightly. "Listen, I’m not one for formal interviews. I’d rather just have a chat, get to know you, and see how we vibe. I hope that’s alright?"

“That sounds perfect,” you said, your heart pounding a little less now. The casual nature of the conversation was starting to help you feel more at ease.

“So,” Hugh began, tilting his head, “you just finished university, right? Tell me a bit about that. What did you study?”

“Yeah, I graduated not too long ago,” you replied, feeling more confident. “I studied media, so I’ve done a bit of everything—social media management, content creation, production... I’ve always loved the idea of working behind the scenes. I guess I’m just looking for a job where I can put all that to use.”

Hugh nodded thoughtfully. "Media, huh? That’s perfect. I need someone who knows their way around that stuff. I’m hopeless with social media." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "If it weren’t for my team, I’d probably still be figuring out how to send tweets."

You laughed, feeling the connection start to form. “Well, you’ve got a pretty solid Instagram game going on. But I can definitely help with anything tech-related.”

"Ah, well, that’s good to hear," Hugh said, leaning back in his chair. "And what about your interests outside of media? Any hobbies or passions I should know about?"

“Well,” you began, hesitating for a second. “I love movies—obviously. And I’m really into fitness, too, though I’m not quite at your level.”

Hugh raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Fitness, eh? Are you trying to take my job? Next thing I know, you’ll be Wolverine."

You blushed, laughing nervously. "I don’t think I could pull off the claws."

"Ah, you never know!" Hugh said, winking. "But seriously, fitness is a great passion to have. Keeps you grounded. Maybe we could train together sometime—I’m always looking for a new gym buddy."

Your heart skipped a beat at the casual offer, the idea of working out with Hugh Jackman suddenly flooding your mind. Was he joking, or…?

"That sounds fun," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "But you might have to go easy on me."

"No promises," Hugh teased, his smile never faltering. Then he leaned in slightly, his tone a little more serious. “But really, you seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I like that. You’re young, but from what I’ve seen on your resume, you’re definitely not lacking in experience. How do you feel about working in such a high-pressure environment?”

You thought about it for a moment. "Honestly, I think I’d thrive in it. I’m used to juggling a lot at once, and I’ve always worked well under pressure. I guess I’m just ready for a challenge."

Hugh nodded approvingly. "Good answer. I like someone who’s not afraid of a little chaos." He paused, then added with a mischievous glint in his eye, “And you seem awfully young to be my assistant. You sure you’re not still in high school?”

You blushed furiously and laughed, shaking your head. “Definitely not. I promise, I’m a fully certified adult.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to trust you on that,” Hugh replied, his tone playful. "You might just surprise me."

For a brief second, there was a comfortable silence. You could feel the warmth radiating from Hugh, and you found yourself smiling more freely now, your initial nerves melting away. The conversation felt easy, almost natural, like you’d known him for longer than just a few minutes.

Hugh broke the silence with a chuckle. "You know, I have to say, I think you’re going to fit in really well here."

You blinked, caught off guard. "You think so?"

"I do," Hugh said, his expression softening. "I’ve interviewed a lot of people, but you... there’s something about you. You’ve got a good energy. I like that."

You felt your cheeks heat up again, but this time, it was less about nerves and more about the undeniable connection you felt growing between the two of you. Hugh Jackman, your long-time celebrity crush, was complimenting you—on more than just your qualifications.

"I... wow, thank you," you said, a little flustered but genuinely touched. "That means a lot coming from you."

Hugh smiled, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed air. “Well, I’ll make sure to let you know in a few days, but between you and me, I think you’ve got a pretty good shot at this.”

You grinned, trying to hold back the excitement bubbling up inside you. "I’ll be waiting by my phone."

“I’m sure you will,” Hugh replied, his voice laced with warmth. He glanced at the clock on his screen and sighed. "I’ve got another meeting to run to, but it was really great chatting with you. I’ll be in touch soon, okay?"

“Sounds good,” you said, your heart still racing. “Thanks again, Hugh. I really appreciate it.”

Hugh gave you one last smile, his eyes twinkling. “No worries at all. Have a great day, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

The screen faded to black as the call ended, and you sat there for a moment, staring at your laptop. Your heart was pounding, your cheeks still flushed with the warmth of the conversation. You couldn’t help but smile, replaying every word in your head.

Zoë appeared behind you, her eyes wide with excitement. "So...?"

You turned to her, grinning. "I think it went really well."

Zoë's eyes lit up with excitement, and she grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly. "Oh my God! Spill! What did he say? How was he? Was he as charming as he seems?"

You laughed, pushing her hands away gently. "He was even better. Like, ridiculously charming. He made a joke about me being too young to be his assistant and then—" You paused, recalling the moment he’d complimented your energy, your stomach fluttering. "—and he said he thinks I’d fit in well."

Zoë gasped dramatically, bouncing in place. "That’s basically a ‘you got the job’ in celebrity-speak! Oh my God, this is huge!" She practically danced across the room, grabbing her phone and immediately typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” you asked, still in a daze.

“Texting the girls! I have to tell them you just interviewed with Hugh Jackman, and it sounds like you nailed it.”

You chuckled, though a part of you was still processing the entire experience. Had that really just happened? Talking to Hugh had felt so natural—like you’d known him longer than the fifteen minutes the interview lasted. He was warm and playful, but also professional when it counted, and you couldn’t help but replay the way he’d teased you about your age. Was that flirting, or was it just his way of putting people at ease?

Zoë interrupted your thoughts, practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay, but tell me—how did you not, like, melt into a puddle of goo? I mean, he was on your screen, in real-time, flirting with you.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I don’t know! I was nervous at first, but he’s so easy to talk to. It didn’t feel like an interview at all—it felt more like… I don’t know, like we were just chatting.”

Zoë waggled her eyebrows at you. “Uh-huh, chatting with Hugh Jackman, no big deal.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, smirking. “And what’s this about working out together? Are you going to become his gym buddy now?”

You blushed, laughing as you recalled his casual invitation to train together. “I’m pretty sure he was joking. But who knows? If I get the job, maybe I’ll just casually bump into him at the gym.”

Zoë raised an eyebrow. “Girl, if you get this job, you’re about to be around him 24/7. You better prepare for that heart of yours. Crush or not, you’re gonna be spending some serious time with him.”

The thought sent a flutter of excitement through you. It was true—if you got the job, you’d be Hugh’s personal assistant, meaning you’d be with him constantly, organizing his schedule, helping with events, traveling with him... And you’d be doing all of that with a man you’d secretly crushed on for years. The idea of it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“I know,” you said softly, biting your lip. “It’s kind of crazy to think about. But I also can’t let myself get too ahead of things. It’s still just an interview for now.”

Zoë rolled her eyes, waving a hand dismissively. “Please, that man was smitten. You’re going to get it, I can feel it.”

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed on the table. Your heart leaped as you saw an unknown number pop up on the screen.

You stared at it for a second before Zoë nudged you. “Don’t just stare at it! Answer it! What if it’s him?”

You fumbled with the phone, quickly hitting the button to accept the call. “Hello?”

A familiar deep voice on the other end made your heart race again. “Hey, it’s Hugh.”

You almost dropped the phone. Hugh is calling me? Already? You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hi! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

Hugh laughed lightly, the sound sending another flutter through your stomach. “Yeah, I know. But I’ve been thinking about our chat, and I wanted to catch you before the weekend. I’d love for you to come in on Monday for an in-person meeting. I want to show you the ropes and see how you feel about everything in person.”

You blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. “You mean… like a second interview?”

“Sort of,” Hugh said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “But mostly, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with the role before we make it official.”

You tried to suppress the squeal threatening to escape your throat. “That sounds amazing! I’d love to.”

“Great,” Hugh said, his tone warm. “I’ll have my assistant email you the details—where to meet, what time, all that jazz. We’ll keep it casual, don’t worry.”

Your heart was beating so fast you were surprised Hugh couldn’t hear it through the phone. “Thank you so much, Hugh. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem at all,” he replied smoothly. “Looking forward to seeing you again.”

The call ended, and you stood there for a moment, phone in hand, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Zoë practically pounced on you. “What? What did he say?!”

You turned to her, eyes wide with excitement. “He wants me to come in on Monday. For a follow-up meeting, but it sounded more like... like he’s already offering me the job.”

Zoë screamed, grabbing you and spinning you in a circle. “I knew it! I told you! You’re going to be Hugh Jackman’s assistant!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as she danced around the room, but deep down, you felt a wave of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation. This was it—the start of something big. You were one step closer to working for Hugh Jackman, to being a part of his world.

And maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that this job could lead to something even more than you’d ever imagined.

🏷️: @oatmilkriver @khxna @hughverine @junnniiieee07 @stark-ironman @Marcswife21 @boomveronika @kellyxo1 @shiawaseorii @shybluebirdninja @mutilatedcupid @corvusmorte @iluvfanficsstuff @stickyunknownsubstance @miha080 @acescutejeans-1247 @ladydimitrescutlou @iwannadie07 @whimsiwitchy @bitchydragonparadisee

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!!

I am so hyped for this small series!!! Hugh needs more content on here. I absolutely love reading all of your thoughts on the chapters, so feel free to leave a comment!! And at last, Enjoy!!

I’m also thinking of writing some oneshots taking place in the same AU after i finish the series. You can read them as standalones or see it as extra content for this project!!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Jenni's Version): Future

Grace Clinton x Reader

Summary: You need to leave

"Mami! Mami! Mami!"

You smile slightly, continuing to pack your suitcase as your son lays back on your bed.

"Yes, my James?"

He grins at you. "Can I come?"

You shake your head. "You know you can't."

"But why?"

"Because Paris is a long way away from Lyon." You add another set of pointe shoes to your bag. "And I need you to do a very special job for me."

You sit down on the bed, patting the spot next to you.

James is more than happy to crawl towards you, leaning close to hear his special job.

"You're a very responsible boy, aren't you?"

He nods. "I helped Mummy pick up Ollie's poo yesterday on our walk!"

Ollie's your family dog. Grace had gotten him for you when the first two rounds of ivf didn't take and you'd been so down about it. You were right in the middle of your third round and losing hope when Grace had come home with a German Shepherd puppy.

You called Ollie your good luck charm because two weeks after you'd successfully potty trained him, you fell pregnant with your other golden boy, James.

"That's very responsible!" You tell him," Because I need a very responsible boy to help me out."

"I'm responsible! I'm responsible! What is it?"

"I need you to be in charge of the house while I'm gone," You tell him," That's why you can't come with. You've got to make sure Mummy doesn't order takeout every day and cleans up Olivia's toys when she's done playing."

Olivia's the other light of your life, your nearly one year old daughter.

You didn't particularly want to leave either of them but you'd been called up by the Paris Opera Ballet to be their guest Principal for one of the shows they were putting on and you loved dancing in their venue.

Originally, you were going to say no but Grace pushed you to accept. She was more than capable of looking after both of the kids at once.

"I'll make sure Mummy eats healthy and cleans up!" James tells you," Can I go tell her I'm in charge while you're gone?"

"I'm sure she would love that."

James goes bursting out of the room and you take the time to finish packing.

Ollie whines a little as you zip up the bag.

"I'm sorry, Ollie," You say, gently stroking his head," You know I'll back soon."

Ollie's the family dog, technically, but, secretly, you know he's yours. He had been incredibly protective over you when you were pregnant with Livy and he had been super excitable as a puppy when you were pregnant with James.

Fully grown now, he loved being in the same room as you. He adored the kids and Grace, of course, but you had always been his person.

Frankly, you were getting a little worried he was lonely in the house alone all day so you and Grace had been in talks about getting Ollie his own puppy.

It was only fair to Olivia as well.

Ollie grew up with James. It's only right to have a puppy for Olivia to grow up with too.

But, that was a conversation for when you got back and after your planned trip to Spain in the summer.

It would be nice, you think, to have a puppy for Ollie to be the best big brother too just like how James is the best big brother to Livy.

Ollie follows you down the stairs, his favourite tennis ball in his mouth as you start pulling your suitcase down.

Grace appears at the bottom, hurrying up to swap the bag with Livy and carry it the down for you.

"Careful, beautiful," She says as you swap," You don't want to strain anything before you go on stage." She winks at you and you roll your eyes.

"Did James tell you I've left him in charge?"

"He did," Grace replies with a grin," I think he's already planning on demanding Big Bed access."

"Don't let him," You remind her but your wife just shrugs.

"I don't know. He's making a convincing case. Says that it would be cold without you and he should be there to warm it up."

"If you get him in the habit of sleeping in our bed while I'm away, Grace Clinton, then you're in trouble and I'm choosing what breed the next puppy is."

"Oh, come on!" Grace is laughing though so you know she isn't taking your empty threats too seriously. "Cab's here though. You finished up just in time."

"Okay." You pull on your coat surprisingly well for someone balancing a baby in the other arm.

You litter kisses all over Livy's face as Grace calls James to the door.

"I'll miss you, Mami," He tells you and you crouch down to give him kisses too.

"I'll miss you too, James," You say," I love you, baby."

"Love you too."

He curls into your arms and your rock him side to side softly before pulling away.

"Remember, you're in charge, okay? So I want you to boss around Mummy and make her eat healthy, deal?"

He nods. "Deal."

"I'll see you in a week, amor," You tell Grace, pecking her lips a few times and laughing when she tries to chase your kiss each time.

"Love you, beautiful."

"Love you too."

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥 | 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐧

summary: alex tries to bribe you into giving him a second chance. you accept the bribe—but, only because it will benefit the seals. definitely not because you want to see him again, or anything.

pairing: alex albon x seal specialist fem!black!reader

from, serene: almost had to split this final part into two! i hope y'all don't mind me hitting that max photo limit loll happy reading, loves xxx

⌕ prev | join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents | seal you later toc ↻

messages • yn -> coral • twitter dm's • alex -> yn

messages • max please unmute us gc -> alex

twitter • alex_albon • messages • yn -> coral

twitter dm's • alex -> yn

messages • • max please unmute us gc -> alex • yn -> coral

twitter

instagram • williamsracing & pacificmmc • october 12th

liked by f1, georgerussell63, seallygirlyn, and 85,734 others

williamsracing alex had a wonderful time on his private tour of the pacific marine mammal center! thanks to yn ln for showing us around and letting us meet some seals and seal pups! you can watch the tour video on our youtube through the link in our bio as well as donating to the pacific marine mammal center to help them conserve our oceans and wildlife!

pacificmmc alex_albon seallygirlyn

view comments

alex_albon: it was incredible to see the important work being done everyday to maintain our oceans firsthand! even better to be able to adopt optimus prime, my seal son <3

➥ charlesleclerc: find an original character trait albono 😡🙄 ➥ user1: f1 has become the most unserious sport in the world. ➥ user2: are you not entertained???

pacificmmc: it was a pleasure to host alex, even though he threatened to kidnap some of our pups ;)

➥ alex_albon: can you blame me? look at their faces! ➥ francolapinto: i am jealous 🥺 ➥ seallygirlyn: silly franco ☺️ only boys who break strangers phones and run away are allowed to do the fun pr events! ➥ francolapinto: 😂😂😂

user4: omg!!! yn and alex met again??!!! watching the video rn

➥ user5: IM SCREAMINGGG ➥ user6: the seal puppies little noises i just wanna take a lil bite ➥ user7: cute agression was on 💯💯💯

user8: alex making more alex noises as he had to feed the seals slimy fish 💀💀💀

➥ seallygirlyn: i almost confused his noises with the pups lol! ➥ user8: omg hiiii! you're literally living my dream! i want to work in marine conservation efforts just like you! ➥ seallygirlyn: visit our website for more on marine science and programs around the world < 3 i still feel like i'm living in a dream every day haha

seallygirlyn: alex was a very attentive guest! and he didn't even break any property :)

➥ alex_albon: please let it go already !!! ➥ alex_albon: what more do you want from meeeeee 🫠😫 ➥ seallygirlyn: my lost seal photos ➥ user9: holding a grudge 🤝🏽 seallygirlyn

messages • alex -> yn

instagram • williamsracing • october 20th • austin ⚑

liked by 43,592 others

williamsracing double points finishes for our boys this weekend! i wonder if it has anything to do with the seally good luck charm alex had on his side of the garage?

view comments

williamsracing: funniest moment this weekend was alex almost missing sprint qualifying because he was too busy talking to seallygirlyn

➥ seallygirlyn: I AM SO SORRY WILLIAMS F1 TEAM 🤧 ➥ coral: PLEASE DON'T BAN US !!! I WOULD LIKE TO ATTEND MANY MORE RACES ➥ francolapinto: yes admin do not be mean coral was very sweet 😇 ➥ coral: hwat? ➥ user10: franco needs to be castrated PLA

alex_albon: i ALMOST missed sprint qualifying—everybody’s freaking out for no reason 🥱

➥ alex_albon: also can you blame me? she was talking to me about jellyfish and i lost track of time ➥ seallygirlyn: this is the 2nd most embarrassing day of my life😖😭😭😭 ➥ user11: what's the first? ➥ seallygirlyn: when alex told the entire internet i cried when my phone broke ➥ user12: valid 😪

user13: she's a disrespectful guest and didn't respect the team's or alex's time the entire weekend. she should not be allowed to return.

➥ alex_albon: when? ➥ user13: when what? ➥ alex_albon: when did anybody ask for your opinion 🤨

messages • alex -> yn

twitter

igstory • alex_albon just uploaded!

[caption1; the only thing i cheat on is a diet plan][caption2; pretty views in santa monica]

replies limited

seallygirlyn: it was such a beautiful view! alex_albon: beautiful girl too 😏 seallygirlyn: smooth 😅

logansargeant: dude "pretty views" was the best you could come up with alex_albon: what's wrong with that???? logansargeant: i forget how old you are sometimes

twitter • postseason

instagram • seallygirlyn • january 23rd

liked by 32,973 others

seallygirlyn after review from the board (five water pups) he's awarded my seal of approval x alex_albon

comments on this post have been limited.

alex_albon: the amount of fish i had to feed them to get this distinction was frightening 😰

seallygirlyn: should've watched where you were running the first time we met < 3 alex_albon: but if i never ran into you, would we have ended up here?

instagram • alex_albon • january 23rd

liked by 1,592,368 others

alex_albon sealed it with a kiss x

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seallygirlyn: love you seally boy 🥰

➥ alex_albon: love you more seally girl 🧜🏾‍♀️

georgerussell63: i always believed in you mate 💪🏼

-alex_albon: i vividly recall you bullying me everyday until i asked her out ➥ georgerussell63: how does that contradict the statement i made 🧐🧐🧐

user14: where's the two barbie dogs dancing gif when you need it? so happy for you both!!!!

user15: the other formula one drivers do not need to use this relationship announcement as a guide. please do a soft launch or you risk being responsible for my heart failing.

➥ alex_albon: does nobody remember the posts on my story like three months ago 😔 ➥ user16: TWO PHOTOS on a STORY from THREE MONTHS ago is not a soft launch YOU ASSHOLE 🤬 ➥ seallygirlyn: i did tell him that we should've had a proper sl :/

logansargeant: now when do i get to meet her 😈

➥ alex_albon: never 🫡 ➥ seallygirlyn: next time your in cali! we named a pup after you at the center :))) ➥ logansargeant: alex if you screw up this relationship i will never forgive you

maxverstappen1: i hate puns 😾

➥ landonorris: man just sealabrate this good time with us mate ➥ maxverstappen1: i'm going to flip out ➥ oscarpiastri: i hope you know that was also a pun 😂

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@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea

@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification

@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/

@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25

@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134

@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking

@nikfigueiredo/@bbreezyxoxo

seal you later taglist (closed):

@poppysrin @everythingabby101 @mangotaitai/@sumlovesjude/@nichmeddar

@panicforspec @formulaal @tellybearryyyy @greywritesthings @daddyslittlevillain

© httpsserene 2024 — photos used from pinterest. do not re-upload.

[coco-loco-nut]

Mama

pairing: Pierre x reader

summary: Pierre and his annoyed, heavily pregnant, wife

TW: references to spicy activities, pregnancy, cussing, use of French learned via Duolingo and high-school French class from like 4 years ago

————————

“I regret ever letting your French ass charm me,” you scowl at your husband who picked you up at the train station in London. He had been away for a week, and initially you did miss your husband, but the pregnancy began to really wear on you this week.

“I missed your too, mamour,” Pierre kisses you, taking your bags and placing them in his rental car.

“I should’ve stayed home,” you grumble as he helps you into the car. You missed your French home, the villa was sunny and it wasn’t England, but you promised your sweet husband you would come to Silverstone. He came straight from

Pierre knows you are hurting, the third trimester taking a toll on you, so he doesn’t take any of your words to heart, instead he intends on showing you how much he loves you.

“I wish I were home too,” Pierre squeezes your hand gently once he is in the car. He has been hoping and praying that the baby comes during the summer break, just so he can spend time with you. You hadn’t been to a race since Imola and Monaco and you were able to hide the pregnancy pretty easily with flowy dresses. Despite being pregnant with twins, you didn’t balloon up until right after.

“What would Mrs. Glasly and the Baby Gasly’s like to do first, get to the hotel or get some food?” Pierre asks and you think about it for a second.

“Mmm food. Chicken nuggets and fries, preferably,” you give Pierre puppy dog eyes despite telling him you hated him moments ago.

“There is a McDonald’s in the next town over from Silverstone. I won’t tell if you don’t,” Pierre says, you swear in that moment that you fall in love with him all over again.

“I would never,” you gasp before yawning a little. At this point, you could take a nap anywhere, despite being extremely uncomfortable with the babies dropping. Some luck happened and your thirty-sixth week of pregnancy falls at the very start of summer break.

“Take a nap, chérie, we have about an hour and a half,” Pierre tells you as he pulls out of the parking lot, turning the music on softly. You don’t need to be told twice as you doze off. You don’t even wake up to Pierre ordering a ridiculous amount of food at McDonald’s, you only wake up when he gently shakes your shoulder.

“Mon ange, tu dois te lève,” Pierre says gently, coaxing you awake.

“Mm, mon bonhuer, feed me and take me to bed,” you say sleepily, a sly smile on your face.

“The things you do to me,” Pierre groans, getting out of the car. You carry the food into the hotel from the garage so his trainer can’t yell at him.

“Y/n! How are you doing?” Charles comes up beside you. He knew about the pregnancy, despite Pierre and you keeping it under wraps, only because the both of you attended dinner at the Leclerc’s house during the Monaco GP. It's only natural, you were Pierre's childhood best friend. Charles was Pierre's childhood best friend, you tolerated the both of them.

“How do you think,” you glare at the Monégasque.

“Maman asked me to give you this, and I added a little something too,” Charles says, handing Pierre a bag and kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, Charlot,” Pierre waves to his friend, guiding you to the hotel room.

“Pierre, this is so good,” you practically moan as you eat the nuggets.

“You gotta stop talking like that, you’re driving me nuts,” he groans. You grin, biting into a fry.

“Or what?” your tease, his eyes darken. As soon as you both finish your dinner, he is kissing you.

“Pierre!” you groan, he helps you stand up, moving towards the bed.

"Do you want to do this?" Pierre looks at you with concern.

"Pierre, I am not a glass doll, I am pregnant and horny and I miss your cuddles, and I haven't seen you in weeks. I think you know what I want," you look Pierre in the eyes who is quick to help you into a safe, yet comfortable position. It is safe to say that the two of you missed each other very, very much.

You woke up in the morning, a rare occurrence of sleeping through the night, to your husband's arm wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

"Pierre," you nudge him. He hums, only half awake. "If you don't let me go, I may puke on this bed," you whisper to him. Pierre quickly wakes up and helps you to the bathroom. He had to get up soon anyway for the race.

"You ok?" Pierre continues rubbing your back after you've puked.

"I look like shit, feel like shit, and you watched me puke, I think the answer is no," you groan, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Why don't we shower, then I'll order some breakfast while I get ready?" Pierre offers, helping you undress and get into the shower. Like the gentleman he is, he helps you clean where you can't reach anymore, and in return, you scrub the shampoo into his hair.

The two of you eat quickly and get ready for the day. You both get in a chauffeured car and head to the circuit, you left a little later than usual due to eating breakfast in the hotel instead of in the paddock. Cameras capture the two of you walking in, more like you waddling as Pierre walks with an arm around you. He heads into a strategy meeting while you rest on the couch in his room.

"Apparently social media is blowing up over pictures of us walking in. They may love pregnant you more than I do, and that is nearly impossible," Pierre tells you when he gets back, the F2 race playing quietly in the background.

"I'm glad someone is enjoying it, because I want them out," you groan as they kick you simultaneously. Pierre helps you stand up and wraps his arms around you, hands under your bump. You relax into his chest, letting him take some of the pressure off of your body for a little bit. His touch always seems to calm the babies down.

"I know, just another month, then we will have our precious babies. You are doing incredibly, you will be the best mom," he praises you causing you to blush.

"They will have the coolest daddy," you hum, enjoying the temporary relief.

"Pierre, you gotta do your warm-ups," his trainer knocks on the doorframe. "Y/n, I can help you with some stretches that may provide some relief and better mobility," the trainer offers as Pierre slowly lowers your stomach, trying to ease the weight back. You follow Pierre and his trainer to the weight room. The trainer mainly focuses on helping you, claiming Pierre knew what he was doing, only stepping away when a spotter was required. Apparently, his wife was recently pregnant so he did a lot of research to help her.

"Congratulations, Y/n, you and Pierre will make great parents," despite neither of you particularly caring for Esteban, you thanked him anyway and wished him a good race. Pierre took you on some light strolls across the paddock, frequently being stopped by drivers, before the race where you sat in the garage and watched with his team. Pierre got in the points and you both celebrated by going home to France and sleeping.

By the time summer break rolled around, the nursery was filled with gifts from drivers and teams. Charles was begging the both of you to either name one of your babies after him or name him godfather. He was pleased to learn he was going to be named godfather regardless. A few days into break, your babies decided it was time to meet the world.

"Pierre, car, now," you look at your husband from the passenger seat.

"Charles! I am panicking! Yes, I am getting in the car. Fine you, can talk to y/n while I drive," Pierre says, frazzled, as he drives away from your home, the back seat filled with what you might need, two car seats already installed.

"Hello Charles," you say into the phone, quite amused despite the contractions becoming more frequent.

"Hi y/n, are you ready to meet the two rascals who have been torturing you for months? You will get to be a mom to three babies, god knows Pierre needs his mom right now," Charles laughs, helping to distract you as Pierre flies down roads.

"Mhmm, I'm excited to know the genders if anything. Are you still coming out later this week?" You ask him, the conversation oddly calm.

"I'm getting my plane ready now, I have to be there to meet my godchildren," Charles informs you and you feel another contraction coming on.

"Great, I'll be sure to hold them in for you. I gotta go, see you soon," you laugh through the pain, quickly hanging up. Pierre cut off an impossible amount of time, granted you didn't live too far from the hospital. Pierre is more stressed than you are, it's cute.

After 6 hours of labor, you and Pierre have greeted the most beautiful babies, at least in your eyes. The love of your life has now expanded to include the little bundles.

"Congratulations," Charles says, the first to arrive since you and Pierre didn't live too close to your families.

"Meet your godchildren, Anthoine Romeo and Genevieve Charlie," you smile tiredly at Pierre, who helped you through your labor, even as you screamed some very nasty things at him.

"They are perfect," Charles looks at you, a little teary as he holds Genevieve, "thank you," he says softly.

"We named them after the two people who have always stood beside us," you say, Pierre fascinated by his son. You really were the luckiest woman alive.

[mariclerc]

hey!... can you write a Charles × horner reader.. where the reader has a crush on since they met.... but Charles doesn't like her very much cuz he thinks she's a nepo baby... but the reader still tries to win his heart.... but one day after a bad race he lashed out on her.... breaking her heart.... later he realizes he also has fellings for her...then ask the reader for forgiveness and a second chance (pls make it a happy ending)... thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you for this request! It took me a little while to try to develop it, I hope you like it!! 💗💗

Second chance spark | cl16

Summary: where Charles thinks you're a nepo baby just because of your last name. Warnings: a little angst, horner!reader, christian being an asshole and fluffy fluff.

a/n: let me know if you want a part two!!

Part 2

The paddock of the Spanish Grand Prix is in big move, thousands of people moving from one place to another and there you find yourself, outside of the Red Bull hospitality talking to several of the girls on the team. This is what your life has become, practically, since being the daughter of Christian Horner you can walk around the hospitality and the paddock as many times as you like during the year.

Most people believe that you only walk around the paddock because it is a case of "nepotism", but in reality you are working very hard to be an engineer and earn a place in motorsport and that's why you find yourself doing internships at Red Bull. Also, your relationship with your father is not the best, so it is always a constant argument, but, even if you try not to give it so much importance, it always hurts.

“Oh god girls, look who's coming!” You say excitedly, Charles was walking through the paddock, to you he always looked like an angel, you blush slightly.

Mara, one of the Red Bull pr girls spoke. “Leclerc? Are you trying to charm the competition's sponsors I see.” she jokes and you blush a little.

You rolled your eyes. “Don't be ridiculous, he probably doesn't even know I'm here.” You say and a silence is present between the three of you. “I'm going to say hi.” You say determined.

Lila rise up an eyebrow. “Careful y/n. You don't want to spook the red prince.”

“Oh, please. Like he'd give me the time of the day.” you scoff.

You excuse yourself and stride confidently towards Charles. He notices your approach and his expression becomes guarded.

You've liked Charles since he debuted in the F4 European series, you always thought he was someone quite nice and talented... Besides of being cute, of course, but nothing ever happened between you, you were simply acquaintances. But now since you are always in the paddock you see him every single day and those feelings that you thought were already buried, were reborn with much more strength.

“Hello y/n. Didn't expect to see you here!” he smiles shyly.

“Well, I just came to say hi, a little greeting doesn't go amiss, don't you think?” you say shyly with a soft voice. “Are you nervous about the race?” you asked shyly.

“Yeah, uh, a little bit... But let's see how it goes.” he says trying to avoid your gaze.

“Well, you have a good shot, maybe you can achieve a podium finish.” You say and he looks at you surprised.

“You actually follow the races?” he asks.

You feign offense. “Of course I do, I'm trying to be an engineer! I may not be out there on the track like you and the boys, but I appreciate a good driver when I see one.” you smile brightly.

Charles looks at you for a long moment, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Just make sure you're cheering for the right team on race day in the future.” he says teasingly.

“We'll see about that, Leclerc.” you two share a comfortable silence for a moment. You take a deep breath. “Well, I'll leave you alone, I have to go. But good luck in the race, yeah?” You say with a small smile.

“Sure, see you later! And thanks!” he smiles too.

You smiled back and turned to leave, a triumphant glint in your eyes. Charles watches you go, a genuine smile gracing his features. His heart is probably beginning to soften to let you into it.

***

“Is seriously? You talked to him and he didn't think you were a little innocent girl?” Christian said sitting in his chair in the office.

You were at the Red Bull factory in Milton Keynes, you had gone to see some engineers and work with them since you are doing your engineer internship at Red Bull and they have been very generous to you, teaching you everything they know, what you didn't realize was that your father was going to need you to have a talk. Such talks never end well, let's put it that way.

“Well, no... But I think he was being nice.” you say quietly. “I just wanted to wish him good luck, that's all... Just a little greeting... it's not a big deal.”

“You know? It's amazing that you're so stupid and dumb.” He says getting up from his chair. “And also by talking to the enemy, you don't really learn, don't you?” he asked sharply.

He never misses the opportunity to speak badly about you on any occasion, he simply doesn't care about your feelings, he is only interested in the job, winning and that's it. As if that were more important than your well-being as his daughter.

You take a deep breath. “Then let me finish my internship in another team.” you said and he looked at you. “I think it would be better for both you and me. Don't you think?” you said in a whisper.

“What? You really want to finish your silly and stupid internship at Ferrari, right? To be after a man who doesn't give you attention, is it serious?” he says sarcastically, that wasn't your idea but since he puts it on the table it doesn't sound too bad... “How ungrateful you are, to waste the fact that I gave you the opportunity to do the internship here.”

“And it was the only thing you did.” you murmured. “Because, as far as I remember, you haven't done anything else.”

“What did you say, huh? You little bitch.” He said, raising his voice towards you.

“What you fucking heard! Do you think it's not difficult to be under your shadow every day? How tiring it is to have everyone tell you that you are a child of nepotism just because all you did was get me the internship here! And you know that I had to sacrifice many things to get here.” you said in screams, taking everything out of you, all the years of abuse and so on. “And don't come pretending to be a saint because we both know you're not.”

You leave his office and everyone looks at you, but you don't care, you couldn't allow your father to call you names and spoke to you in a not very nice way. Your tears blur your vision as you leave the factory and you run to your car, you feel as if you no longer have a weight on your shoulders, but at the same time you are afraid of what may happen later between the two of you.

***

A couple of weeks later, the Austrian Grand Prix is a blur of disappointment, specially for Charles, since he finished a distant third, strategy blunders costing him a shot at the win against Max. The Red Bull Hospitality is abuzz with post-race celebration, a stark contrast to the muted atmosphere in the Ferrari hospitality across the way.

You stand awkwardly near the doorway, your presence a silent question in the room. Charles sits alone, staring into the bottom of an empty beer glass, his face an iron mask of frustration. A knot of worry tightens in your stomach, that's not the Charles you know, always so cheerful and lively despite everything. It's another version of him, darker and more mysterious.

“Charles?” you asked softly.

He looks up, surprise flickering across his features before hardening back into a grimace.

“What are you doing here?” he said sharply.

“I...I just wanted to see if you were alright.” You say shyly.

His harsh tone stings, cutting through the fragile connection the two of you would built.

“Look y/n, I appreciate the concern, but I need to be alone.” he said sharply.

“But-” hurt creeps into your voice.

He interrupts with his voice rising. “No buts! Don't you get it? This is my job, my life! And today, I failed.”

Tears are pricking at your eyes. “I know it hurts, Charles, but you can't let it consume you.”

He stands abruptly, knocking his chair over with a clatter. “Easy for you to say! You don't have the pressure, the expectations hanging over your head like a damn guillotine! You have everything on a silver platter whenever and however you want!” he say furiously.

His words are a punch to the gut. The simmering tension between you and your father explodes in your mind.

“You think I don't know the pressure? Do you have any idea what it's like living under my father's shadow? To be constantly judged, to have every decision questioned?” you say with a shaking voice.

Charles stares at you, his anger momentarily eclipsed by surprise.

“I may not be a driver, but I understand this world, Charles... I understand the pressure.” You say as tears form in your eyes.

Your vulnerability hangs heavy in the air. Shame washes over Charles, realizing the depth of his lashing out.

“Y/n, I...” he said with a soft voice.

He reaches out, but you flinches back, a wall of hurt suddenly separating the both of you.

You take a shaky breath. “I think I should go.” you sigh tiredly. “Nice talk.”

You turn towards the door, your heart heavy with a mixture of disappointment and a newfound understanding of the burdens that the both of you share. You run out there with tears running down your cheeks, nothing could have been worse after what happened with your father, but now you lost a person you cared about despite everything.

***

The Italian Grand Prix is in full swing after the summer break. Mechanics scurry around the gleaming red Ferrari, the air thick with pre-race tension. Charles, however, finds himself distracted. He steals constant glances towards the Red Bull garage across the pit lane, searching for a familiar face.

He spots you, standing by Christian, your interaction is tense, your father screams at you while you just only nod at his words while holding a few tears in your shy eyes. A pang of fury shoots through Charles, followed by a wave of regret. His outburst in Austria hangs heavy in the air, a barrier he needs to break. He, despite everything, is moderately informed about what happened between you and your father thanks to Max, and it hurts him not to have approached you much sooner.

The pit lane opens to finally start the grand prix, snapping Charles back to reality. He throws on his helmet, a steely resolve replacing his earlier anxiety.

***

Charles finishes a strong second, the podium it's a little bit bittersweet. He emerges from the car, the cheers of the tifosi a distant echo. All he can think about is you.

He finds you in the Red Bull hospitality, a hesitant knock on the door of your office, announcing his arrival. The room falls silent as he enters.

You stand by the window, your back towards him. Your posture is stiff, but Charles can sense the tremor in your shoulders.

“Y/n?” he say quietly.

You turn slowly, your eyes guarded. The hurt in your gaze is a mirror to his own regret.

“Charles...” you say softly.

There's an awkward silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Charles takes a deep breath.

“I can't apologize enough for Austria. I... I was a complete idiot.” he says.

“Words don't erase the hurt, Charles.” you say in a low voice.

He takes a step closer. “I know. But I wanted you to know... these past few weeks, all I could think about was your words. About the pressure, about being judged... You opened my eyes to a side of you I never knew existed.” He reaches out, hesitantly offering his hand. “And in doing so, I realized... how much I care about you.”

You stare at his hand, then back at his face. A flicker of vulnerability crosses your features before you speak.

“You can't just say things like that, Charles. Not after everything.”

“I know, but I have to try. Because the alternative... the alternative is losing you completely.” says sincerely. He sees a flicker of emotion in your eyes, a flicker that speaks of hope.

“This won't be easy, Charles. My father... Things haven't been so smooth lately between him and I.”

“I know. But maybe, just maybe, we can face it together... Like you said, we both understand this world, the pressure. Maybe we can be each other's support system, not just through wins and losses, but through everything else.” he say softly.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You look at him, a question in your eyes.

“So, what are you saying?” you asked him.

Charles takes a chance, the weight of his feelings pulling him forward. He steps closer, your faces inches apart.

“I'm saying that... give me another chance, please. A chance to prove that I can be the man you deserve.” he whispers. “Please, if you want, I beg you on my knees... I'll do anything, but please give me a chance.”

The air crackles with unspoken emotions. You lean in, closing the distance between the both of you. At first, the kiss is hesitant and at the same time soft and slow, then deepens, a promise unspoken but understood.

Pulling away, Charles searches your soft eyes.

“Is that a yes?” he smiled while blushing.

You smile softly, a genuine smile that reaches your eyes.

“Maybe... How about we can do something casual between us, not business related, just to get to know each other better?” you say shyly.

A grin spreads across Charles' face, relief washing over him like a victory lap. “It's a deal darling.” you giggled.

He leans in for another kiss, the roar of the engines and the crowd outside a distant echo of the race that's just begun – the race for your hearts.

***

The air crackles with a different kind of tension now. You and Charles break apart from your long awaited kiss, foreheads resting against each other. Relief, hope, and a spark of defiance dance in your eyes.

“We should probably get going before someone sees us, don't you think?” you whisper shyly.

Charles nods, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He reaches for the door, ready to usher you out, but it swings open before he can touch it.

Standing in the doorway is Christian, his face a thundercloud. The celebratory atmosphere in the room evaporates, replaced with a chilling silence.

“Y/n! My office. Now.” he says with a strong and demanding voice.

You flinch, your body tensing and shaking at your father's tone, but Charles steps forward, his stance protective.

“Actually, she's not going anywhere Horner.” Charles says calmly.

Christian's gaze snaps to him, fury replacing the icy anger. “And who are you to tell me what to do in my own hospitality suite, Leclerc?” he scoffs.

“Someone who cares about her, a concept you seem to have forgotten.” Charles says with a hard and firm voice.

The room collectively gasps. You reaches out a hand to touch Charles' arm, a silent plea for caution. But Charles shakes you off gently, his green eyes boring into Christian's.

“You judge her, belittle her, just because of your own insecurities. You push her away with every harsh word and raised eyebrow.” Charles says defending you, maybe you and him weren't that close, but probably Max told him about what happened between you and Christian.

Christian lunges forward, his hand raised in a threatening gesture. But Charles doesn't back down, he catches Christian's wrist mid-air, his grip surprisingly strong.

“Don't. Even. Think. About. Touching. Her.” Charles says in a low, dangerous voice. “And if you do, you'll deal with me, is that clear?”

Christian throws Charles a withering look before turning and storming out of the room. The silence that follows is deafening. No one had ever spoken to your father that way, not even Max or Jos, but the fact that Charles was the first to do it was something... Shocking, especially for you.

You let out a shaky breath, your gaze flickering between the slammed door and Charles. “I... Charles.” you say in a shaky whisper.

He whispers back. “Don't apologize, you did nothing wrong sweetie.” he takes your hand in his. “He's such a jerk.” He pulls you towards the door, a newfound determination in his eyes. “We're leaving, now. We can deal with your father later, together, okay?” he says.

You hesitate for a moment, then you nodded in agreement, as you walk out of the Red Bull hospitality, heads turn and whispers follow. But you don't care anymore, you have each other, and that's all that matters.

You two step out into the cool evening air, the roar of the Italian crowd a distant hum. Your hands are intertwined, a silent promise against the warm setting sun.

You two may have a long road ahead, filled with challenges and disapproval, but you'll face it together, a united front against the storm.

“Thank you... For what you did in there.” You say softly, he smiles and brings your hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of your hand.

“It's nothing ma belle, I know I may not know the whole story since the begging, but I'm willing to help you.” he says the same in a whisper.

“I just want to know... Who told you about it?” you asked softly.

“Max told me.” He says and you laugh.

“I thought so! It doesn't bother me that he did it anyway.” you say and let out a giggle while you shake your head. “I think it's something you deserved to know.”

He smiles at you tenderly. “How about we forget this mess with your father with a good pizza, huh?” he says softly.

“And where would we go?” you shyly asked him.

“We can go to my hotel room... Unless you don't want to, I know it would be awkward but... I don't know, ugh.” He said and started babbling, you smiled seeing him like that, it seemed like the cutest thing of all, seeing him nervous about doing something simple with you.

You smiled and placed a soft kiss on his jaw. “I would love to eat pizza with you in your hotel room Charlie.” you say softly. “So it's a date?”

“It's a date.” He says softly as he kisses the tip of your nose and you giggle. “A date between Ferrari's golden boy and the red bull girl.” he says in a whisper while letting out a giggle.

You smiled tenderly. “You couldn't have said it better.” You whispered back.

To think that a couple of months ago you had not imagined that situation, to see Charles against your father and defending you like a true gentleman, but here you two were. Maybe at the beginning not everything was rosy or he simply didn't tolerate you at all due to false "nepotism" status around you, but you both understand how difficult and complicated this world is, maybe with different perspectives, but you two are there to support each other in the ups and downs.

[httpsleclerc]

☾you've got a 9 to 5☽

in which sebastian and his ex-wife are still in love with each other

c/w: angst, mentions of an absent father (not intentionally), divorce

w/c: 1k words

based on this request

You hated that you still loved your ex-husband, your first love, your first everything - He was everything to you. You had taken the heartbreaking decision to  file for divorce from Sebastian when he had signed for Aston Martin, you couldn't bare to spend more time alone than you already did due to the nature of his care, as much as it broke your heart to make the decision that you did, you knew that you had to; otherwise you would end up in a vicious cycle of loneliness, spending nights upon nights sleeping in what felt like an empty bed without your husband.

You sighed as you sat down on the couch, the days events finally catching up with you since you didn't have a minute to rest. Between work and your other commitments, you found yourself rarely having a moment to yourself these days - and it was on these days you found yourself missing Sebastian, missing the way that he would make all your worries disappear in an instant and missing the immense comfort he provided. As if adding salt to the wound, you turned the TV channel from some kids channel and you saw his face.

Up upon the podium stood your ex-husband, his trademark mile wide grin on his face as he held the first place trophy, raising it up above his head in celebration. Watching him broke your heart all over again, you remembered his red bull days when you were both young, head over heels in love with each other, barely married and dumb with love - He dedicated every podium win to you, claiming that you were his good luck charm wherever he was, even if you couldn't be with him. You felt your eyes welling up with tears as you watched him pop the bottle of champagne, of course the first race you managed to watch following your divorce, he would win, just your luck, right? Right. 

For some reason, you felt like torturing yourself even more than you already were by even just watching the race, and decided that you would watch the post-race interviews, just because you felt like driving the knife already deep in your heart, in even further. You watched Sebastian talk with an interviewer about how the race had gone, how he felt about winning.

"And it was never any secret that you always dedicated your podiums to your wife, Y/N, is that still something you do?" You felt your heart stop at the question. You and Sebastian had been very quiet about your divorce and had managed to keep it under wraps, neither of you wanted something as heartbreaking and difficult as this out in the world, no, that was your business, no one else's. Sebastian gave a nervous chuckle and then a smile, he knew he had to be honest, and he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, hoping that if you were watching that you would see how sincere he was being.

"Yes of course, I love Y/N very much," He stopped there for now, feeling himself well up at the fact that he still held so much love for you, yet his career had driven you away from him. He understood though, your decision had torn you apart and you knew that he loved you, you just couldn't handle him being gone more than he was around. "I dedicate this, and every podium to her, I love her so much." Sebastian smiled, tears in his eyes as he finished up with the interviewer.

You couldn't hold it together any longer, feeling your strength dissolve, you burst into tears at his confession - He still loved you and probably always would. Over your crying, you missed the sound of the footsteps coming towards you, only looking up when you felt two small hands patting your hair.

"Mama?" 

You looked up at your daughter, who was her fathers spitting image - curly blonde hair, the same stunning blue eyes, she was all Sebastian.

"You okay?" Her small voice was laced with concern as she saw your tear stained face, a small pout on her face as she feared what had upset her mama. You sniffled as you nodded, lifting her up for her to be sitting on your lap, leaning on your chest.

"I'm okay, baby, I promise," You assured her, smoothing her hair down. "You're not sleepy, huh? Too much sugar at your birthday party I think, princess," A small smile graced your face at her small giggle and the shake of her head. "Mhm, yeah, I think so."

"No, mama," She replied, giggling as you tickled her sides. You swore hearing your little girls laughter almost made you forget how much you missed her father. "Why wasn't papa at my party, mama?" She turned her big blue eyes up at you, a sad pout on her face at the absence of her beloved papa from her 5th birthday party. You swallowed the lump in your throat that appeared at the sudden emergence of her question. "Did he not want to be there?"

"No, Meine Liebe, your papa had a race this weekend, but I promise you when he gets back on Monday he'll here to pick you up and you get to spend the whole week with him, doesn't that sound fun?" You told her, watching as she perked up a little at the mention of getting to spend a whole week with her father. "He is really sorry that he couldn't be there today, honey, he can't help it." First you were making excuses for him to yourself, and now you were making them to your daughter, the tiny human that you had created together.

"I miss him, mama," She said, giving you a tired yawn as she rested her head on your shoulder, sleepiness finally catching up with the small girl.  You sighed sadly.

"I know, I miss him too baby girl."

[haikyu-mp4]

Sly foxes

word count; 950 – f!reader

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

Honestly, the coach was the least of your concerns going into this project. Everyone knew that Inarizaki’s volleyball team’s biggest defence was their captain, Kita Shinsuke.

You met with him for a lunch period, giving him a detailed explanation of your project and how you would like to proceed with it. He gave you some suggestions and rules, also making sure you knew that they couldn’t spent too much time on it.

Kita really liked how detailed you were and how you clearly came prepared to meet with him. You arrived at the precise agreed time and spent even less time than he expected, despite including all the necessary details. After he gave his two cents, he happily approved the project and asked you to spend the rest of the lunch period with him. Of course, you wouldn’t say no after he so kindly approved your project, but that wasn’t your only motivation. Their captain is really quite pretty up close.

D-day arrived and you started off with the first-years just like planned. Most of them were very sweet and seemed to appreciate a bit of attention even though they weren’t starting players. The problem arose when you got to the second-years. The ones Kita warned you about, even though he didn’t have to. You definitely heard of the Miya twins before.

Starting with Atsumu. “Yer taking up my practice time, pretty. Better make it worth my time.”

“I can skip you if you want, leave you out of the brochure,” you answered, not giving him much of a reaction. He begrudgingly posed for you and tried to casually flex his muscles, definitely not giving up on his first try of charming you. Still, to no avail.

Then there was Osamu. He was nice enough, trying to ask you about food you like, to which you answered normally. It was disturbing the picture taking and you wanted to stay on schedule. Unfortunately, the food talk made his stomach growl, so he ended up blushing and giving up his attempt so he could finally finish and leave to get a snack.

After the twins, you tried your best with Suna. When walking past you, he ghosted a hand over your hip as if on accident, and leaned down so he didn’t need to speak too loud. “How do you want me?” he asked, hoping to send some chills down your spine when his deep voice hit your ear, breath curling around it. You pointed to his spot and asked him casually to look like an intimidating middle blocker. Kita gave you a rundown of the positions beforehand.

“You look a little… bored,” you said with a careful smile, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way. Suna deadpanned and sighed, realising his flirting didn’t work on you and he just couldn’t be bothered putting in too much work. So he sharpened his eyes and got the photoshoot over with, complaining to Atsumu about how stale you were and he totally agreed.

The rest had realised by then that there was no getting to you, and they all decided the bet was off. Yes, the second-years bet on who you would be most charmed by.

That’s why you sighed with relief when you got to the third-years. Kita smiled softly and patted your shoulder, reassuring you that your process was well planned and executed, which in turn means the result will be as well.

All the pictures came out really good, though you did have a special vision for Kita’s that made them your biased favourites. He had his jacket resting over his shoulders and you and Akagi agreed he looked pretty cool. After packing up your stuff and going back into the gym, you turn to the team with Kita by your side. “Everyone, please thank y/n for the effort. I’m sure this will help us show off our best sides at nationals,” he said, looking at you while your cheeks flushed red from his compliments. The team all bowed, but the second-years looked at you and their captain with a suspicious squint.

“Thank you guys for your cooperation! And thank you, Kita, for allowing it,” you said, bowing to the captain and then the team before finally taking your leave.

“Did Kita just smile at her?” Atsumu whispered in shock.

“Did she blush? He just said thanks?” Suna whispered with disbelief.

“What just happened?” Ginjima threw in there.

Aran huffed a laugh and hit Suna hard on the back, as he stood the closest. “What, you guys don’t think our captain has game?”

Kita had already asked to take you out for tea outside of school and looked forward to your date this weekend. The second years might just have gained even more respect for their captain.

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust

[a-new-romantic]

lucky charm ♡ (hogwarts!au azriel x reader)

a/n: this is entirely inspired by those "xxx quidditch entrance song" tiktoks. i have no other excuse, but i hope you like it! (and if you hate it, don't read it!)

summary: ravenclaw!azriel plays against the slytherin quidditch team. you're his good luck charm.

"please", Rhysand, muttered as he caught up to you and Feyre going to breakfast. "Ravenclaw is NOT going to win," he said - pointedly staring at your blue and bronze robes.

"Yeah," Feyre agreed, her green tie seeming brighter than ever. "We're going to win, cause our team has us on it." she said, grinning slyly at you all entered the great hall.

"We'll see..." you sung to your friends, rolling your eyes as you got up from the table, heading over to the Ravenclaw table.

"Hey Luc!" you say, spotting your friend eating in what looked like a fit of nerves. "Ready for the game, keeper?" you asked, patting him on the back as you took a seat next to him - your favorite food appearing in front of you.

"Honestly? No," he said, "Rhysand is a damn good chaser and Feyre is the best seeker we've seen in a while," he said.

"And you're the best keeper we've had in centuries! Don't even worry Lucien, you're going to do great. I have full faith that Ravenclaw will win." you said, despite not being 100% certain yourself. He was right, Feyre and Rhysand (and the rest of Slytherin) were damn good.

"Sure, sure. You only say that cause Azriel is on Ravenclaw too." he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you with a teasing tone. It seemed the whole school knew of your budding relationship with your teams star beater.

"Whatever, don't you have to practice or something?" you said around a bite of waffles. His eye widened as he glanced up at the clock before shoveling the rest of his eggs into his mouth. He gave you a quick wave goodbye before grabbing his broom and running out of the hall.

You grinned and finished up your breakfast, heading back to your dorm to get ready for the big game.

----- ���

The crowd roared around you as you climbed up to the highest seat you could get at the game. The wing whipped your hair around, as the blue and bronze scarf around your neck kept you warm.

"Nice makeup (Y/n)!" someone yelled out at you, as you gave them a grateful smile. You worked hard on it, blue and bronze surrounding your eyes, with Azriel's jersey number on your cheek as a last minute show of support.

Before you knew it, the opposing crowd started roaring, the Slytherin entrance song starting to play.

"everybody wants to rule the world.."

The song echoed throughout the stadium, green and sliver smoke filling the field. Silhouettes of the players started appearing to the left of the field, Rhys and Feyre's outlines clear as they appeared out of the smoke.

The beat dropped and the entire Slytherin team got on their brooms, flying to the middle of the field. Rhysand pumped his fist into the air, triggering a cascade of screams down the Slytherin side of the field. As the beat built up, the players got higher and higher. Suddenly, the music stopped and they all dropped down to eye level - getting into position for the game.

"Honestly? A 10/10 entrance." your friend piped up next to you. You couldn't help but agree.

The crowd started to die down from that amazing entrance: people talking to their friends and chit chatting, the Slytherin team talking strategy.

Suddenly, you hear faint whistles and clacks echoing through the stadium. The crowd went silent in anticipation of the incoming entrance by the Ravenclaw.

Then, the drums started resounding throughout the stadium - going directly through everyone and vibrating through their cores. You grinned, knowing that Az had taken your song suggestion for their entrance tonight. The drums ended with a flourish, blue and bronze confetti erupting throughout the stadium.

"all the birds of a feather.."

The Ravenclaw players entered through the confetti, flying in circles around the stadium - looking like blurs of blue just zooming past everyone. The beat ended and the players exited the circle one by one, flipping in the air before landing in place.

Azriel, unlike Rhysand didn't hype up the crowd at all. He didn't need to. At the sight of him, the entire crowd erupted.

He didn't care, he was looking directly at you. You flushed under his gaze, giving him a quick thumbs up as a show of support. He smiled gratefully before turning to roll his eyes at his brother on the opposing side.

Once the players were in position, the game began.

----- ♡

The game was neck and neck for the most part, with Azriel or Lucien blocking most of Rhysand's advances. Nevertheless, Slytherin was in the lead.

Your focus stayed on Azriel for the most part, tracking him as he shot across the field. He was completely in his element, and you were in nothing short of awe.

He could feel your stare as he played the game, loving you and loving the attention. Forgive him if he flexed a little harder, and showed off a little more during the game. He had a pretty person to impress after all.

Despite your attention attuned on Azriel, your gaze flickered away as you watched the Ravenclaw seeker and Feyre suddenly dive to the ground, spotting the snitch. If the seeker caught the snitch, Ravenclaw could overcome the lead Slytherin had on them and win the game.

The whole stadium went quiet as everyone watched the two seekers twist around one another, up and down through the field as they chased after the snitch.

Suddenly, Feyre swerved out of the way as a bludger appeared in her line of flight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you glanced up at Azriel, who smirked - knowing his plan worked. He shot a bludger in Feyre's direction (not intending to hurt her) to throw her off her path.

He was successful! The Ravenclaw seeker sped up and caught the snitch, flying up and thrusting her hand up in the air in victory. The half of the field you were on erupted in cheer as bronze and blue confetti erupted once again.

You cheered alongside everyone, joy overtaking everyone's face. You took the time to study Azriel's face, as he high fived and celebrated with his teammates. Then, he turned to face you - flying towards you.

"All because of my lucky charm, huh?" he said, as he leaned forward on his broom so his lips could meet you own. You smiled into the kiss, shaking your head while laughing.

He didn't need a lucky charm, but you were glad to be his lucky charm any day.

[vivwritesfics]

Young witch oscar discovering his older sisters first spell book and experimenting. Casting spells left and right not understanding its not a game.

Young oscar discovering karting and climbing to succes when he just wanted to have fun.

Oscar obssesing over lando and McLaren until he got onto the team and met his soul mate

Yes oscar worked hard but young oscar accidently made sure older oscar would be set for life.

Current oscar finding the spell book when he travels home to officialy introduce his bf to his family

Accidently doing a love spell and a success spell lol

hehe so we actually talked about this and threw a reader in there since i don't do just driver x driver - also i'm sorry love but i couldn't work the meeting the family bit in there, but i've... you'll see what i've done.

Warnings: Blood mentioned (human and animal), rituals

"I'm not using your blood for a ritual," Oscar said with a roll of his eyes as Lando laid in the middle of the chalk pentagram. Oscar hadn't yet lit the candles, and the chalk making up the pentagram was now printed on the back of Lando's jumper.

"C'mon, Osc," he said as he allowed the younger man to pull him to his feet. "I thought you needed blood."

He grinned at his boyfriend. God, he was cute. "Animal blood, Lan," he said and moved him away from the ritual set up. He sat him down on the sofa, beside their girlfriend, and she wrapped her arms around him, keeping him there.

The two of them loved watching Oscar do magic. They watched as he lit the candles and redrew the pentagram. It was a protection spell, the two of them knew. They'd seen him do it enough times now that they knew the ritual off by heart.

When the protection ritual was finished, Oscar looked across the room at his loves. How had he gotten so lucky?

He knew how. Little Oscar had spent months searching through his sisters spell books. Spells for luck, wealth, good fortune, good future. Oscar had cast them all.

Luck with is karting career, since skill simply wasn't enough in this world. Good fortune and good future led to him starting his Formula One career and meeting the worlds best teammate.

Wealth. It wasn't a spell for money. It could have been for money, if that wasn't already in Oscar's future. No, he was wealthy in love.

Lando was his soulmate, he knew that from the moment they met. His funny, charismatic teammate. Everybody loved Lando, he knew, but the feelings Oscar had were... indescribable.

He wasn't the only one of them that could feel this draw, but he was the only one that could explain it. He knew Lando couldn't explain why he was kissing his teammate, but he knew he he didn't want to stop.

But then he found out that Lando had a girlfriend. Of course, he did, why wouldn't he? He was brilliantly funny and charming. And Oscar knew there was nothing he could do about that.

As hard as it was, Oscar tried to let Lando go. But then he met said girlfriend. Oh God, she was cute. She wasn't like Lando, and the pull Oscar had to her certainly wasn't as strong, but it was still there.

The way she laughed at him, punched at his shoulder when he made some deadpan joke, she had to be flirting with him. At least, Oscar hoped she was.

The three of them sat alone, just hanging out. It happened often, and were Oscar's favourite times. She sat in Lando's lap as she spoke to Oscar.

And, suddenly, Lando was standing. He placed her down where he had just been sitting, and walked over to Oscar. His hands were on his cheeks as he leaned in.

Oscar was wide eyed, looked towards her as Lando kissed him. This wasn't happening. This couldn't have been happening. She just watched as Lando kissed him.

Suddenly, Oscar was on his feet. "I'm not doing this if it's some fetish thing," he said quickly, looking between the two.

They looked at each other and, well, laughed. They were actually laughing at him, and it fucking sucked. "Not a fetish thing, Osc," said Lando as he pulled him back onto the couch. "I like you, and she likes you, too. Do y'think she could come over here and kiss you?"

It went beyond kisses. Before any of them knew it, they'd been together for a year and Lando was asking him to move in with them.

He cast a protection spell in the dead of night when he first moved in. She had walked in on him blowing out the candles and wiping the blood up from the floor. He'd tried his best to explain, and she was patient with him, listening to all he had to say. She didn't believe him, of course, so Oscar proved it.

He proved it to the both of them, and they stayed by his side.

And here he was, casting a protection spell for his little family. It had been a year of living with them now. A year of keeping them safe, of only casting spells if he needed to. He kept looking at his loves, the loves he had because little Oscar attempted to cast from his sisters spell book.

Hours later there was a knock on the door. Lando pulled himself out of their little cuddle pile. "I'll get it," he said as he stretched up and walked towards the front door.

Oscar tightened his grip on her as they both waited for Lando to come back. He kissed her head and tipped his own back, watching as Lando walked back into the living room and slipped back into his seat. "Package for ya, Osc," he said and handed Oscar the rectangular package.

He pulled it open. "Wow," he whispered as he ran his fingers over the cover of the book, the first spell book he'd ever used. Without this book, would he still have his loves here, holding him tight through the nights?

He opened it to the first page. Wealth. When he'd cast it, he thought he was going to grow up to be rich. He was very wrong, and he couldn't be happier about it.

[gowonminajxx]

sevika x female!reader one shot

she teaches you poker, except you don’t wanna pay attention.

WARNINGS: suggestive / smut, MDNI, slight degrading, drinking smoking, sevika and reader are in a relationship (already damn!!)

it was another usual night at bar sevika always went to to play poker — a game she always won at. the same men would come back every time to blow their money in hopes of winning, but never succeeded.

you decided to ask sevika, hands behind your back, if she could teach you how to play poker. you weren’t new to seeing her dominate all the rounds of poker, but you always wondered how she always won. you wanted to be as good as her. you also wanted to be good for her.

she nodded, a slight grin on her face before resuming back to her current game of poker. she quickly said to you in between plays: “after a few rounds. i’ll teach you.” in response, you nodded your head extremely quickly, scooting in closer to her so she could attach her hand to your hip. you were like a lucky charm. she didn’t need luck, but she still wanted it.

when the bar started clearing out, the last few people finishing up their pool games, she was drinking whatever number drink she had that night. wasn’t easy for her to get tipsy. she was smoking and drinking at the same time, putting her cigar down on a tray to drink, and then putting it back in to focus on poker.

your head landed on her shoulder before you opened your mouth and asked “could you teach me now?” and of course, she said yes. she set her drink down. she was drinking bourbon, two ice cubes. you took the opportunity to casually sit on her lap.

whatever she taught you in those first 10 minutes ended up being a blur. you weren’t paying attention whatsoever, and when she tried snapping you out of it, your eyes widened.

“someone’s not paying attention.” sevika grinned. as she played with the cards in between her thick fingers, she murmured “i’ll figure out a different way.”

she went on and on about poker and methods to do it. you always thought it was luck but majority of her wins were based on her skill. as your eyes blankly watched her flip between the cards as she talked, she noticed you were drifting off again.

with the cold glass of bourbon in her hand, you suddenly felt the ice cubes inside the glass press against the warm skin of your collarbone, making you jolt backwards into sevika’s chest. your eyes instantly darted down at sevika, who looked serious.

“i don’t enjoy when people waste my time, y/n.” her eyes stood still on the cards on the table, while the cold glass slid downwards towards your chest. the fabric of your top began to dampen because of it.

you shivered at the cold feeling of the glass, contrasting against your warm body. as the glass drifted down more, you felt your core throb on top of sevika’s thigh.

sevika’s large hand landed on your breast, with a softer touch than she usually has. the coldness of the glass lowered, all the way down to your inner thigh. your heart raced as you sighed.

“you thought i wouldn’t notice how needy you were at the start of the night?” her low, husky voice sent a chill up your spine. she put more pressure onto the glass, the ice cubes within bleeding into your pants. you flinched at the feeling.

her other hand began slowly massaging the meat of your tit, the cigar twitching in her mouth. and as soon as your body was getting used to the cold temperature of the ice cubes, she shifted it to a different area surrounding your clothed vagina, making you flinch and whimper every time.

she looked downwards at how your stomach retracted whenever she moved the glass, like she was proud. “you never wanted to learn poker. you just wanted me to treat you like the slut you are.” her hand clenched the glass and pushed it a little further into your pouch.

you gasped, your neck losing its posture to look down at what she was doing. her finger rubbed the fabric of where your nipple was, before continuing to massage the breast.

she knew people were still in the bar even at this late time. she also knew they were too scared to tell her to “get a room” or take this elsewhere — she wanted to punish you, embarrass you even.

you felt your underwear getting more wet by the minute, you felt like you were about to explode any second. your hips began moving back and forth small amounts on sevika’s thigh for friction, which she took note of immediately. you could feel how your pussy throbbed at every stimulation.

“so fucking desperate. was this your plan?” a grin crossed her face as she scoffed, shaking her head as if she was disappointed. she was anything but disappointed. she let you continue, and an orgasm just from this was starting to bubble inside you.

as your hips began to move faster and harder just for that feeling of some sort of touch against your clit, sevika suddenly stopped you. she stood up, your hips halting as hers pushed yours forward. her hand pushed your chest onto the table in front of you, cards piling on the floor as they fell. your hands came to either side of your head.

“everyone out.” she said, people starting to run out of the bar. her chest lowered down to rest onto your back, her head right next to yours as she grunted into your ear.

“so desperate for my touch? then i’ll let you fucking have it.”

—

raaaah 🤓🤓

[normansnt]

The real him

(Alastor x male overlord!reader)

No warnings my loves

Perhaps some grammatical errors🥹

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor was walking down the street to attend the overlords meeting that was taking place today. He has been absent for quite some time so he has not been to one in a while, and honestly he was kind of excited to go again. Not because he cared so much about what they had to say oh no, of course it was useful information for his plan but the one true reason he went was not something, it was someone.

You.

The overlord of music. Since he was the radio demon and you were the music demon you naturally had something to do with each other. Not to mention it just so happened that you both liked jazz that was a first bonding point.

The moment you became an overlord and turned up on one of the meetings Alastor was delighted by you. You were younger than most of them around the age of the Vees however you are very respectful towards the elder overlords. And even though you were one of the strongest ones you were not egoistic at all. If anything Alastor would call you quite humble. You had a happy air around you similar to Charlie, but he could see the smartness and cunningness underneath. For anyone else you just seemed like any happy go lucky idiot in hell but Alastor knew better. He knew that you could not have become an overlord without brains, all though the Vees achieved it. It only took him one conversation with you to know that sly brain of yours which was probably one of the smartest in the room, despite your young age.

Before he left hell it has become a habit that you two sat down for a coffee after meetings and you could talk for hours, one of your favorite activities was playing chess together.

To put it short. Alastor absolutely adored you, and loved spending time with you. The only thing that made him feel even a little bit sad when he left was the thought of not seeing you for a long time.

"Alastor, how fare thee, this way"

Alastor was too caught up in his daydreams about you to notice the tall figure appearing before him.

"Greetings, Zestial" he looked at the overlord while they made their way to the meeting.

"Ah, the weather, doth become this fine day."

"Indeed, looks like we might have some acid rain this afternoon!"

"If our luck doth hold! I do revel in the screams. How art thou?It has been an age since thou hath graced us thy presence. Some hath spun wild tales of you falling to...holy arms."

"Oh, I just took a well-earned sabbatical, nothing serious. Though it's fun to keep everyone on their toes!" Laughed Alastor

"Quite intriguing, Some of us did miss thee more than others" smiled Zestial mysteriously.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Asked back Alastor his smile never wavering.

"Thee knoweth what I mean a certain youngster did miss thy presence gravely"

"(Y/N)?"

"Indeed"

To this Alastor's smile lessened just the littlest bit, barely seeable to naked eye truly. He was not pleased that he caused you sadness. All though deep down in his cold dead heart a spark of warmth emerged to the thought that you missed him.

"Well than shall we proceed" said Zestial at last.

--------------------------------------------------------------

When Alastor and Zestial arrived at the meeting he was disappointed to notice that you were no where to be seen. Nonetheless he took his seat, hoping that you will turn up since you do have a habit of losing track of time.

So the meeting began, Alastor sat next to Rosie a charming Women overlord of the cannibal town also a good friend of yours and Alastor.

"Ahhh Alastor such a pleasure to see you again, someone has become quite broody without you here." The powerful women finished her sentence with a cheeky grin.

"Yes it has been brought to my attention as well however I do not see the culprit here anywhere."

"Ohh you know the clumsy, he is always late."

About 10 minutes after the meeting began Velvette bursted through the door throwing the head of an exorcist of the table, and you walked in calmly behind her.

"Must you make such an entrance, and oh look at that now you got blood all over the table you could do it less flashy you know" you said looking at the media demon.

"I'm sorry for being late Velvette here was holding me up" you said rolling your eyes while she stuck her middle finger in your face.

"Anyways what are we-" you stopped talking when you saw Alastor. Your face broke out in a grin which you quickly tried to cover up with a cough and took your place besides Rosie.

"It's quite all right (Y/N) we know how...annoying the Vees can be" said Carmilla smiling at you slightly. You had a friendly relationship with most every overlord, even the Vees all though that was more professional.

After that you had trouble focusing, all you could think about was what you would say to Alastor after the meeting.

When Velvette jumped unto the table and started very disrespectfully yelling at Zestial and Carmilla you wanted to step in but Rosie put her hand on yours shaking her head slightly.

Alastor chuckled, a real hearty quet chuckle not a mocking one. He has always adored the way you like to stand up for people. He often wondered how you ended up in hell. Now he knows of course, your coffee 'dates' have turned quite deep sometimes, thus you are pretty much the only person who knows him. Not his grin he always wears, not his charmingly sick personality, him.

After the rather quick meeting you waited for Alastor outside of the meeting room. You were quite nervous you have not seen him in 7 years.

When Alastor saw you waiting outside he walked over. You waited till the other overlords have left the scene and the moment you could not see any of them anymore you jumped into Alastors arms.

Now, Alastor did not like physical touch. But this was already a routine for you too. Since you are a very touchy person and he does not like it at all you started off slow. Putting your hand on his shoulder as greeting and goodbye. Than patting his back and this way you guys slowly went up to a point where he was comfortable with hugging you. And now he loves it. But only if its you.

"(Y/N)...I've heard you missed me."he stated while smiling, not grinning, smiling at you.

"Weelll, I mean its no secret that you are my favorite there" you smiled shyly

"Only there?" He asked smiling egoistically exactly knowing your answer.

"All right, all right mr.bigshot however that doesn't explain why you were gone for 7 years without telling me where you were?"

You might be happy to see him now but that doesn't change the fact that he hurt you when he left without telling you.

His smile faltered a bit

He took your hand and next thing you know is you guys ended up in his room in the Hazbin Hotel.

Now he could let the smile go. All though a soft one remained on his lips.

"Everything in its time my dear"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SALUTATIONS, GOOD TO BE BACK ON THE AIR

YES I KNOW ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE SOMEONE WITH STYLE-

Ok I'll stop

You see...I WATCHED HAZBIN HOTEL AND ITS AN OBSESSION THE SONGS, THE ART, THE CHARACTERS AAAAAHHHGSHHSGJSGS ITS SOOOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOD

I already have at least 5 more fics in my notes just waiting to be published but I might wait with those cuz I really have to proof read them cuz when I type fast (like when I have too many ideas in my head cuz I have a new hyperfixation) I make the stupidest ass mistakes😭

SOOOO ANYWAAAHYYSSSS

Thank you so much for reading ladies, gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night🧡🦖

[freakoont]

Hi!!!! Pretty pretty please, could you write a ranpo x reader where reader usually takes care of him because they have a soft spot for him, but ranpo takes them for granted somehow, and they get frustruated and angry. Maybe a little angsty and fluff as well. Im so happy to discover your blog, i really like the way you write for bsd! Sorry for my english, i’m not a native

❝𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!?❞

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 ... 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 // 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

【ＳＦＷ】

GENDER NEUTRAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! Check my request page for info !

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

It's easy to say that Ranpo doesn't exactly have manners, and is easily persuaded by his own thoughts and often doesn't think before he speaks when he isn't on the job.

Often, he'll make people feel very dumb. That doesn't change for people he's close with, cough. You.

It's been a good few months since you had joined the Agency, being assigned as Ranpo's lucky assistant. Actually, no, now that you remember it more clearly, you were never assigned this role... It just so happened that during you're early days when you were still a lost noobie, Ranpo.. 'found' you, but not exactly in a positive or negative way.

When it was only you and Ranpo in the building, when everyone had gone to do their own thing, he was whining about being so hungry he'd die! Talk about childish.. and yet, after a while it grew on you.

You offered to go to the nearest convenient store and see if you could find anything, which you did, and after that Ranpo would use your more and more often to retrieve stuff for him, that the title 'Ranpo's lucky assistant' grew on you.

Ranpo didn't seem to care, actually, eventually he'd start to have you help him with cases... And by 'help' it just means you'd buy his train tickets. Basically you were treated like a guinea pig in some ways, even having to give the man piggy back rides when he felt tired.

╰┈➤ ❝Would you call this luck?❞

Actually, it isn't all that bad. Ranpo would always look so happy whenever you walked in the room. Word has it, whenever you weren't around, his head would perk up like a dog on alert at the sound of your name being spoken and he'd always feel so gloomy saying, 'man, I wish (Y/N) was here.' Although, that's probably just Yosano trying to mess with you.

Not to mention he'd always love to eat with you, seeming so glad as he'd get into your space and ask that you 'so kindly feed him like a good assistant' ignoring all the stacks of papers you have to finish.

Some part of you wants to say that he just has a sweet yet naive heart when he's not actually using his brain... And yet...

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

"pfft, don't be stupid. I don't need your little gift," he spoke while pushing your hand away.

For the past few days, you had found yourself growing a different perspective around him.. did you truly like this guy?

Earlier that day, as had been you passing through many stores, there was something in particular that caught your attention. You were a firm believer in luck and gratitude, always wanted it for yourself and others. When you saw basically some five dollar bracelets, there was one in particular that caught your attention.

A small bracelet, a very colorful one, that had little snack charms. It was pretty. It reminded you a lot of Ranpo.

"you don't need to wear it, I was just hoping-"

"you were hoping to give me a little good luck charm." He'd speak up over you with a tone voice that didn't seem completely annoyed but more like he was mocking you. He'd continue to place another chip into his mouth before continuing, "I don't need it. I'm the world's greatest detective after all."

"..i see." You spoke with a feeling of disappointment. "I'll just throw it away then."

Ranpo didn't seem to bat an eye about it as soon as you had left his line of sight that following day.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

A few days followed and you didn't exactly forget that little item, actually it's disappointing you chose to throw away such a pretty gadget. Slowly the sun hit the inside of your room and you felt this pinging in your head. A strong annoyance, a headache.

Some part of you felt like this headache had to do with how you've been seeing Ranpo lately. One question that's been stuck in your mind, do you seriously regret meeting him? No, that'd be too much to say... But he can be annoying to deal with.

There were even moments where you'd have to step in because he pissed off the wrong person, stopping people from getting their fist in his face... It was always you taking a few verbal hits for him, huh? And he never seemed to mind, always doing it again and again no matter how much you've told him it's wrong.

Maybe you're wrong about your friendship with him.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

"yo, I'm here." You spoke up while entering the Agency, that strong pinging in your head again. You looked around only to see Ranpo. "Where is everybody?"

"Dazai is skipping, Yosano is in her infirmary, and the rest of them are all on their own errands and cases." Ranpo spoke as he played on his little game console. He perked up at you with a smug grin, "Soo, let me guess. Today's snacks are.."

"actually I don't have anything."

"HUH? WHY?" He immediately jumped in his seat staring at you almost distressed. "I'll die without food y'know!"

"..if you're so hungry then go get yourself something."

"Nonsense!" He laughed out, mocking you in a way. "Last I recall your my lucky assistant, and you promised to get me food every morning."

"I didn't promise you anything, Edogawa."

Ranpo had noticed a sharp tone in your voice, you seemed oddly annoyed, which was different. He then grinned towards you, "Oh I see! Is this about your little gift to-"

".. you're such a pain, Edogawa!" You spoke up which made the man flinch. You definitely noticed that, you've caught him off guard. "Not once have you ever gratitude for what I've done? I know it's not much and maybe I'm being dramatic.. but it'd be nice to get a thank you every and now then? All it feels like is that you look down on me."

"..I'm sorry."

That's all he said which didn't make you an happier. Thats all he can say? Is he serious?

"I'm leaving. I have a bad headache and I don't want to deal with this, let Kunikida know I'm off." You turned on your heels to leave.

"Wait hold up-!" Ranpo immediately followed and grabbed your shoulder. "I said I was sorry!" After he didn't heard you respond and just ignore him, yet waited in your steps to hear if he had anything else to say, he pulled out the bracelet from his pocket. "..the reason I said I didn't need your good luck charm, was because my lucky assistant is what brings me luck."

"..."

"..and thanks."

[ynyaan]

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡 𖦹 | 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𓆩♕𓆪

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝙈𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙣𝘼𝙐!𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You wear "revealing" clothing to a supermarket with Sukuna. Unfortunate to say, two strangers were not at all pleased. "Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain.

tw. you can change what you wear to what you please. In this fic though, it's described to give more context. Sukuna in his own body modern AU. Getting shamed; use of words: whore. Sukuna is violent as usual.

note. got emotionally personal here. I hope you find comfort in this fic as I did when I wrote it. <33

.ᐟ 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝-𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

Today was shopping day. You've finally run out of enough comfort foods to force you out of the house. You groan loudly in your room. You were wearing only your undergarments and were already getting tired of the idea of having to find clothes to wear.

a familiar face walks by your room. Sukuna stops and leans on your door, his eyes observing your lazy state. "C'mon brat. Dress pretty. I'll take you out after shopping."

Your head snaps excitedly to Sukuna. It was rare of him to invite you out, especially since you were both so busy all the time. You simply just cherish the swift time at home cuddling and whatnot. Sukuna smirked at your reaction. Satisfied, he left to give you time to choose and change clothes.

After much consideration and throwing closet clothes on the floor, you decided to wear something showy, a cropped tee with its ends tied, a plaid skirt that falls above your knees, paired with a small bag and boots. You choose your accessories, put on a touch of makeup, and then you are good to go. "Kuna~!" You sing.

As you walk out the door, you find Sukuna looking at his phone and then quickly looking at you. You twirl, showcasing your outfit as he smiles. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist. "How awful. My princess dolled up so pretty." He grins, his grip on your waist secure, leaning in for a kiss.

You stop him with your hand. "No. Kuna' we all know what a kiss will lead to," You pout, and Sukuna laughs silently on your skin. "Now, come on, I expect you to take me on to a charming night!"

The supermarket was the same as ever. Customers minding their business, the sound of cashier ringing in the distance, and stocks of your comfort foods.

"Ahh, there you are. I've missed you." You gleam at the snacks in front of you. Snack's destined to be finished within the week. You were left alone for a bit since Sukuna usually parts with you to grab things he needs as well.

By "needs," he grabs excessive amounts of food that would leave you bankrupt if you didn't pick through them every time you passed by him.

"Hey there." Suddenly, someone taps your shoulder. You turn your head to see two guys standing in front of you.

"Hello, do you need help with anything?" you smile politely.

"Ugh, seriously?" The first guy sneers. You tilt your head at him, hoping that comment wasn't directed at you.

"Dude, she's totally leading us on. Did you see that snarky smile?" The other guy says. Your eyebrows bridged together. Just your luck to be left in an aisle with these two idiots, huh?

"Sorry, you're getting the wrong idea-" You get cut off by a hand that warmly placed itself on your shoulder.

"You know em'?" Sukuna's voice was husky and low, gesturing his head towards the two men.

"Not really—“ Before you could finish explaining, The second guy from behind steps in, "Dude, you should really cover your girl up." He comments.

"Yeah, like, the way she looked at us earlier? damn, I almost mistook her for a whore." The other one added. Your heart sank at the disgusting comments made by them. You placed both your hands on your skirt, your basket resting on your arm. You actually felt confident to wear something like this because you knew Sukuna would be with you, you knew Sukuna would approve of it, and you knew YOU would feel good as well.

"Ha." your thoughts get cut off by Sukuna's voice. If looks could kill, indeed. You knew this situation would escalate, and really, all you want is a smooth, relaxing evening with your lover.

You raise your hand high enough for them to notice, "I'm sorry, you really got the wrong idea—“ Suddenly, the first guy tries to grab you by extending his hand swiftly, but before his fingers could reach you, Sukuna stops him by the wrist.

The next thing you hear is the painful cry and a loud snap. Sukuna broke his wrist all while his other hand was still secured onto your shoulder.

"Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain. The second guy wasted no time and launched at Sukuna, only for him to be dodged and punched right in the nose.

People started clamoring around, and you could already hear security calling backup.

"Sukuna, let's go." You urge him but not waiting for a response. You grab his hand, and you drop your basket. You run.

You were both parked at a nearby park, immediately driving away after leaving the supermarket. "You really didn't have to do all that ryo'." You softly say, inspecting the hand that he used to punch the guy.

"Besides, it's my fault. I should've dressed more modestly." You muttered under your breath. But He heard it.

"Don't ever fucking say that again." He grits his teeth. You look up at him, surprised by the sudden anger in his tone. His expression was tense, worried? maybe even a gloss of tears, if you will.

He moves his hand to push strands of hair behind your ear. It was soft, so painfully gentle. "People like that don't deserve to live. They don't deserve to have eyes nor mouths." He rambles, cupping your cheeks and kissing everywhere.

"If they were decent people, they wouldn't even think of looking at you like that, darling. They are delirious, annoying, little shits, who have nothing to do but try and push people down." He holds your hand firmly, his gaze unflinching.

"you will not be knocked down, my love. They do not deserve the space in your mind to bring you down." He lowers his head and kisses the back of your hand.

You exhale. You exhale and smile.

"I love you," he says. He looks so unbelievably beautiful.

You squeeze his hand gently before replying, "Thank you, kuna’. I love you too."

He smirks, a playful grin places itself on his lips. "That's my girl."

"I supposed we'll be banned there, won't we?" You ask, remembering the reason why you were in the supermarket anyway.

He scoffs, "Whatever, i'll ask someone else to do it for us." Sukuna grumbles, kissing the tip of your nose.

He leans back and starts up the car again, "Right now, you deserve a date."

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

[coco-loco-nut]

Stolen

pairing: grid x wolff reader

summary: the grid just can’t help but steal you any time you show up to a race, you just want to pass your classes

a/n: short blurb! thanks for the request, sorry it took so long 🫶

requests open masterlist

—————

“Pup, come look at this,” Lando drags you away from the Mercedes garage, where you just sat down.

“Lando, I just got here. Can’t I relax on my day off?” you pout. Every time you come to the track, someone is stealing you from your parents. That’s what happens when you are raised on the track.

“Ah, Miss Wolff, how is school going,” Zak asks when Lando drags you in.

“It’s going. Today is my day off, I was going to spend it with my parents,” you give Lando a pointed look.

“Quit complaining, come on,” Zak shakes his head as Lando drags you away.

“What did you want to show me?” you sigh as Lando leads you to his drivers room.

“My new line, a hoodie for you,” Lando hands you a soft hoodie.

“Thank you, but you couldn’t bring it to me?” you frown.

“But then I wouldn’t be able to hang out with you,” he pouts.

“You want to hang out with a teenager? I appreciate your friendship Lando, but I need to study for my exams and it’s hard to do that when everyone steals me from the garage,” you tell him, hoping he understands since he finished school while racing.

“I do, you are fun. I also get that you have to study, even if it is your day off school. I’ll see you later?” Lando says, hugging you.

“Yeah,” you hug him back before going back to Mercedes. On the way back you get stolen by Logan, Zhou, Fred, and Christian, meaning you lost an hour of study time.

“Alright Christian, give me my daughter back,” Toto shakes his head when he finds you in the Red Bull garage after your SOS text.

“Bye Uncle Christian,” you give him a little salute as you walk out with your dad.

“I can send out a message asking everyone to stop kidnapping you,” Toto suggests, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“No, don’t, it makes them so happy,” you chuckle, even if you are a little annoyed. You grew up in the paddock and loved everyone here.

“Whatever you say. Why don’t you use my office to study? Maybe that will help,” he says, leading you to the motorhome.

“She can use my driver room, no one will look for her there,” George chimes in. He and Lewis will always be your favorite current drivers, even if they are trying to set you up with Kimi or Ollie. George’s idea works, and you get a couple quality hours to do your work.

“Sweetheart, it’s time for George to get ready for the practice session,” your mom pops in as you are putting your books away.

“Thank you, Georgie,” you hug the driver who hugs you back.

“Carmen is waiting for you with a coffee,” George winks, stepping into his room. Your mom takes you to hospitality where you find Carmen waiting.

“You are the best older sister ever,” you say, taking the iced coffee from her.

“I figured you needed something after the boys bothered you all day,” she laughs. The two of you watch the practice with your mom, watching the boys pull out a P3 and P4 for FP1.

“That’s it, Kid, you are staying here all weekend and every race,” Lewis tells you once he’s back in the garage. You are his good luck charm, he’s called you that since you were little.

instagram

georgerussell63 great weekend for the fam 👊 oh and ig @/ynwolff was there too

lewishamilton just two guys and their dad

ynwolff this is me erasure 😭

ynwolff dislike button ➡️

jensonbutton what did i do other than help raise you, Pup 🥺

ynwolff sorry uncle jense, love you 🫶

mercedesamgf1 if the rest of the grid would stop stealing my daughter, she’d be in this picture 😐 - toto

scuderiaferrari No. - Fred

landonorris I agree with Fred

williamsracing technically we had the Wolff family first…

user1 find someone who looks at you the way the merc team looks at each other

ynwolff ew, no that’s my dad and older brothers

user2 LMFAO