#Will he have to give all his cookies away?
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lieslab · 2 days ago
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Prescribe yourself to me
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꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Lee Felix X gn reader
Summary: Your chronic illness makes a fun holiday date with Felix turn into a memorable disaster.
Genre: Comfort/hurt
Word Count: 2.7K
Trigger warning: Mentions of chronic illness, fatigue, guilt, and a brief moment where the reader faints.
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It was supposed to be fun and it was supposed to be freeing. One of those blooming memories that you look back upon with joy in your heart and a sparkle in your eyes. The holiday season crept up again and among all the fun and excitement, Felix sent you a link for Christmas lights at the zoo. 
The place would be covered in them. From animal enclosures, gift shops, and random pathways, lights would strand bulb-by-bulb and turn the entire place into a perfect Christmas themed wonderland. With holiday tunes softly playing and a cheap entry fee, it was supposed to be something magical. 
Animals were something you enjoyed and bright lights captured your attention like a moth. Felix was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when he showed you photos from previous years before. With a twinkle in his eyes, an oversized grin, and his charm, how were you supposed to say no? 
That was a few weeks ago. At the time, you didn’t think about how you might feel at this point. You didn’t consider the weight placed upon your shoulders by being chronically ill. You didn’t think about the fatigue that’d enclose you in its grasp or the anxiety that’d cause your heart to race. Furthermore, you didn’t know how to tell Felix. 
You stayed quiet as you slipped into your fleece coat. You pulled on your hat, despite your body pleading for sleep. Gloves covered your shaky fingers and you sucked in a deep breath. 
How many other times had you faked it? How many times had you pushed up a fake smile and brushed off your illness? How many times did you put the needs of others before your own? You wouldn’t allow yourself to give up and accept this defeat. So instead, you tied up your laces, grabbed the car keys, and headed towards the car where Felix awaited you. 
By the time you found a parking spot in the area and had to walk roughly a fourth of a mile, you were exhausted, but you kept going. Step-by-step, you could make it. You’d pull through, not because you wanted to, but because of Felix. You needed to prove that you weren’t weak, you weren’t a burden, and you were the perfect significant other. 
“Look at that!” Felix’s hand went out as he squealed. He pointed to Christmas trees formed from light strands. They wrapped around a metal fence of some unknown enclosure. “They’re so cute!” 
Animated movements brought him back to boyhood. He grabbed your hand and maneuvered between the crowd quickly. Your coat brushed past strangers and your murmured apologies became lost in the crowd. Felix tugged you closer until you were only about a foot away. 
“Woah.” His smile reached his eyes as he glanced up. The display was pretty large, quite a few feet taller than him. “Would you let me put a Christmas tree up if it was this tall?” He glanced over to you for your response. 
“I don’t think a tree this size would fit in our apartment.” 
“When we get a house together, we’re going to have to get high ceilings. High ceilings and we can get a giant tree. We can invite all the guys over and decorate it every year. It can be a new and fun tradition.” 
“Cookies and popcorn strands…” He trailed off with a soft smile on his face. “Matching ornaments and garland, a full theme strung along branches. I think we’re really all going to love it, right?” 
You hummed in agreement and glanced over your shoulder. A headache was beginning to throb behind your left eye. You should have consumed something before you came. The zoo always had high prices, but you’d just have to deal with it. 
“Hey, can we stop at one of the food places? I think there was a cafe back that way.” You nodded back towards the cement path behind you. “Maybe they have hot chocolate or something.” 
“Yeah, let’s go!” He tugged you towards the dividing stream of people. Some were going one way and others were heading in the opposite direction. 
Multiple people were in line by the time you got there. A frown fell upon your face, but you forced yourself to hold it together. In the meantime, Felix gently nudged your shoulder and pointed across the way. “Look, they have a ferris wheel.” 
And they did. A ferris wheel had been blocked off in one of the back corners of the zoo. Neon lights flashed and baskets slowly went around and around the large loop. Your stomach turned at the thought of being that high up in the air. 
“You want to go?” 
You wanted to reject the idea. You wanted to say no. You wanted to say screw it to everything and go home, but you couldn’t. How were you supposed to say no to that face? 
The way his blonde hair poked up in different spots from the wind. His freckles were illuminated a darkened purple from distant lights. His lips threatened to switch to a grin. 
“Sure.” 
“Hooray!” His arms shot out towards you and he pulled you closer to him. “This is going to be so much fun! Maybe at the top, we can take a selfie together, so we remember forever.” 
You nodded, but deep down, you hated yourself. You were stewing in agony internally. Your legs were unsteady and they ached. You hadn’t walked that far, but your body was already over it. 
The moon watched over you, but the rays radiating down upon you didn’t warm your skin. You’d never admit it out loud, but you felt like you had been abandoned by everyone. 
You hadn’t, not really, you still had people around you. You dealt with coworkers five days a week and you had family members. Felix was your boyfriend, but you still felt utterly alone. 
Some people just didn’t get it. They didn’t understand how chronic illness worked. They didn’t understand the fight it took to get out of bed. How hard you had to fight to survive a day where others sailed smoothly through the rhythmic waves. 
Life was like an ocean, but you were always drowning in a tsunami. Your own body was against you. How many times had you gone to the doctor begging for some sort of relief and been handed an empty diagnosis? 
Too much stress. Not enough nutrients. Take some more vitamins and try to eat more fruit and veggies. Less processed sugar and more sleep. Just lose a few extra pounds.
It was always the easy way out for them. It was a way to get a patient through the door. Some doctors thought you were faking and when you finally found the right doctor, sometimes you wished you hadn’t. 
Chronic illness was manageable for some, but yours felt like the death penalty. Some days, life felt normal and just when you thought you could forget about it, it came back to strike you down. 
It choked you in the middle of the day and curled fingers around your neck in the dead of night. You didn’t ask for this and you didn’t want this. Nobody would ever willingly want this. Out of all the people in the world, why you? Why was your own body so against you? 
You didn’t realize it was your turn. You weren’t aware your feet were moving on their own. Felix’s hand was in yours and he gently pushed the warm cup of hot chocolate into your other. 
You wanted food, but you zoned out. Maybe it was for the better, it wasn’t the best idea to go on the ferris wheel and risk throwing up. You could find food afterwards and maybe, you’d wait until after you left the zoo. 
As you walked in the direction of the ride, you couldn’t find most of the animals. Quite a few of them were in their warming areas. They couldn’t stand how cold the weather had become and you couldn’t blame them. Your own joints were beginning to feel achy, despite the gloves, hat, and scarf you had thrown yourself into. 
Lights created presents and strands dripped from trees; a special neon rain effect. They created outlines of zoo animals and were wrapped in hearts. Hundreds of tiny lights lit up the paths and showed you the way through the darkness. 
When you finally got to the ferris wheel, it was a relief to sit down. You collapsed in the seat and shut your eyes. Felix’s warmth curled up next to your side and you sucked in a sharp breath. The ride operator tinkered with the belt that wrapped around your waists and then he fell away. 
With a push of the button, the two of you began to ease higher and higher into the night sky. The longer you kept your eyes closed, the more Felix worried. He studied your face, the shadows dancing along your skin, and the brown bags beneath your eyes. 
“Are you okay?” 
You hummed softly and nodded your head. “I’m good, it’s just a lot of people and I wasn’t expecting it.” You changed the topic when your eyes reopened. “Did you see any of the penguins?” 
That snapped him out of it. “Yes! Did you see that one? He was waddling with a pebble between his feet and he was the cutest! Did you know that’s how male penguins propose to female penguins?” 
You stayed quiet and let him ramble. It was really cute, the way his hands gestured. He continued explaining until the ferris wheel came to a halt up in the sky. The moment the metal basket stopped, he slowly tipped his head up. 
“I think this is the closest we’ll probably ever get to the stars. Likely, the closest that we’ll ever get to space too. Isn’t it all so beautiful?” 
“Aren’t you surrounded by stars everyday?” You weakly teased. 
He playfully rolled his eyes and mumbled for you to shut up. His head slipped onto your shoulder. Your own head gently found his as the two of you stared up at the night sky. 
Off in the distance, the big dipper twinkled. It never stayed in one spot, it was always moving. No matter how or where it moved, the moon would always keep watch. 
“I could stay like this forever,” you whispered after a few moments. 
“Me too.” 
“I love you a lot.” 
“I love you too.” 
You silently vowed to continue trekking after this. It was a cute adventure and you still didn’t want to let him down. Below the two of you, kids were laughing and running. Parents were trying to wrangle up young siblings. 
Strangers were offering one another their phones and asking if they could take photos of one another. Whether it was couples, friends, or family, everyone wanted to capture their moments with the lights. Humans always had a thing for sparkling things. 
When you finished the ride, your hand found Felix’s again. The two of you followed the path until you came upon the reptile enclosure. Felix’s eyes widened as he read the sign. “Come on! We’ve gotta go see this.” He gently tugged your hand in that direction. 
“Are we allowed to go in there?” 
“It doesn’t say we can’t. Look!” He pointed to a couple opening the door. “If they’re going, we can go too.” 
You agreed and followed in his direction. Inside, the building was humid and uncomfortably warm. Hidden in sandy rock formations, glass panels revealed different enclosures for the reptiles. 
Tongues darted out of lizards’ mouths. Large snakes with repetitive patterns strung around branches lazily. They paid little attention to the hustle and bustle of watching humans. Someone gasped as a bearded dragon sprinted across an enclosure and disappeared beneath a larger log. 
You let Felix tug you along and follow the crowd. You glanced around taking it all in, but it didn’t fully click for you. He read off fun facts and provided commentary, but you stopped listening. 
You were feeling worse. The heat made you dizzy and soon, you were sure he’d realize your legs were wobbling. Fatigue was hammering down your bones and snipping at your muscles. Your head drooped and your hand tightened around Felix’s. 
“Oh, look, look! It’s an iguana! Do you think Chan would be mad if I tried to talk him into letting us have one for a group mascot? They’re fast and tough. They can swim and hold their own in a fight. I wanna see Hyunjin outrun one of them.” 
“Felix?” You mumbled as your head found his shoulder. 
“His name is Tank. Yeah, he’s kinda built like one. Look at that smoking hot body!” A whistle fell from his lips. “I’d hate to be the iguana that fought that guy.” 
“Felix?” You tried again.
“You want me to fight him? No way, babe. That thing would eat me for lunch. It probably eats chickens…two chickens.” He shivered at the thought. 
Your body dropped. Felix gasped and quickly grabbed you before you could hit the floor fully. Your knees and his grip were the only things holding you up. 
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled. “Fuck, just hang on. Don’t worry, I got you. No worries, I can handle this. Just try to stay awa-” 
You knew what he wanted, but your body had other plans. You were launched into the darkness without mercy. Your body ached, your joints screamed, everything hurt. The cool weather and then the sudden warmth, the lack of food, the dizziness from heights, it was a recipe for disaster. All you wanted to do was make Felix happy. You just wanted to be a good significant other, one that didn’t let their chronic illness control them. 
When you woke up, you found a cool paper towel laying across your forehead. Lights had been dimmed down, so you couldn’t see much. You could, however, see Felix’s worried gaze glancing down at you. “Hey, can you hear me?” 
A soft hum fell from your lips. Your eyes drooped again and he gently wiped your face with the coolness. “I promised I had you and I still do. Don’t worry, you're safe. I found a member of the staff and now we’re in a behind the scenes area.” 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 
“For what?” 
“Ruining your fun.” 
“Ruining my fun?” His eyebrows scrunched up. “You didn’t ruin my fun. How would yo-” 
“I’m chronically ill, Felix, I’m always ruining your fun.” 
“Hey, that’s not true and you know it. We’ve been over this before. You can’t help it and it’s not your fault. I love you and your chronic illness.” His eyes widened and his face fell. “Shit, no! I don’t love your chronic illness. I wish you didn’t have it, but I don’t hate you. I love you both. Fuck! I-I mean-” His cheeks grew red. 
“I know what you mean.” 
He sighed and shut his eyes. “You just stay there and take a breather for a bit, yeah? The staff left us alone, but they’ll be back. Check out this sticker they gave me!” He held up a small piece of shiny paper with an iguana on it. 
“Apparently, they thought I was going to cry. One of the members saw us admiring the iguanas earlier and they gave it to me. How cool is that? See? You didn’t ruin anything. How else would I get a cool sticker?” 
“Yeah, but I still feel awful.” 
“Don’t feel awful. I love all of you and you act like you’re a burden to me. You’re not and if I would have realized you were struggling so much earlier, I would have offered to go home.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the center of your forehead. 
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Chronic illness or not, you’re not getting rid of me. I hope your chronic illness is a fan of iguanas. They offered to give us a behind the scenes tour. Baby, we’re gonna see Tank.” 
“Felix,” your eyes stayed closed, “don’t even think about trying to kidnap him.” 
He scoffed, “I wasn’t going t-” 
“He’ll eat your chicken legs for lunch.” 
“You know, on second thought, maybe I’ll just let him stay with the zookeepers.
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45
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hermesserpent-stuff · 3 days ago
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Potential script idea for billy batson s radio show segment
The whizz radio intro tones-
Billy Batson then starts speaking through a slightly crackly radio as Fawcett is a city someone lost to time, given its connection to the Rock of Eternity.
---
Welcome to WHIZZ Radio: where we give the latest news, truths, and view in Fawcett City. Brought to you by your host, me, billy Batson.
Starting off with community news, make sure to visit the shrine of Atlas sometime this week with an offering. Cap mentioned that there might be a need for endurance next week, and we should all probably listen. Additional reminder, the festival of Zeus will be happening this Saturday. Stay away from odd looking geese, metal poles and don't fulfill any selfcrearting proficies in a fit of hubris.
Onto traffic!
Main Street and Fifth Avenue are both still under construction from Dr. Sivannas attack and the demon portal last Thursday and Friday. Ms. Marvel and Cap. both played a role in clearing the debris, but there are still major cracks and fissures to Hades. Expect delays.
Now the weather.
Today's forecast includes thick over cast clouds; a good time for summoning souls. Be sure to greet both the living in the dead while going about your day and don't for get that umbrella! There is a slight chance of curses with intermittent showers.
Alright! Time to quickly cover the Capes and Crooks news bulletin. Dr. Sivanna is still missing after his recent bout with Cap. Since he interrupted one of Mercury's races down at the track, no one is quite sure when the Roman god took him. If you happen to see him, please be sure to give Cap a ring to come pick him up.
Keep your eyes peeled for Mr. Mind. The worm escaped prison… again. Holy moly. You'd think they'd make better prisons for him. What is this, the fourth time in two weeks?
*Noise indistinct*
I know, I just figured that out listeners would likely have the same comment. I don't see why I shouldn't point it out of its true
*Indistinct noise again*
Alright! Fine. Moving on from that.
Today's radio broadcast is brought to you by Saturn's candy. Nothing so sweet as a stick of magic you can eat! Try their Caramel cookie candy bars, now with cooked in bloodline curse protect. If your looking for a spot of luck, try their cinnamon apply candy sticks. Saturn's candy. A proud sponsor of WHIZZ Radio!
*Little jingle*
Welcome back to the program. Time for our sister citys segment.
This reporter has just been told by his producers to issue an apology to Black Adam for statements said during this segment of yesterday's broadcast.
*An aside*
Do I have too?
*Indistinct noise*
Fine.
I am. Sorry. For calling you a craized up old fart with too much free time.
There.
Moving on!
Kahndaq currently is continuing negotiations with both the Justice League and the UN to gain a seat at the UN table. Or be allowed in the UN room. While Fawcett recognizes Kahndaq as sovereign, the rest of the world stills sees the country as illegitimate.
Aside from tense meetings, and Black Adam being a kook who keeps coming to mess with Cap due to having a grudge unbecoming of a literal king and ancient man child, Kahndaq is doing fine. The economy is flourishing, despite limited imports and exports due to sanctions. The letters sent by Fawcetts finest and kindest citizens were well received and we should hear back soon if Mercury has anything to do with it.
It's time once again for Billy's opinion of the day.
This week!
Cans and their many used.
Not only do cans offer one of the best ways to have long term storable food, but they also make awesome weapons! We got to see this on Friday when Marvel Jr. and Captain Marvel went toe to toe with demons using a barrage of cans. And the food was still good to eat after the fight!! I love it when things are multi purposed. Now if only they could close the rifts down to Hades…
*Chimes*
Oh! Mercury just dropped a fresh bit of mail! Thank you Mercury! Watch out for old men wandering around. It seems like the Greek and Roman gods are looking to bless and curse some folks today.
Do good, and good will follow.
And keep an eye on the sky for lightning!
This has been Billy Batson, signing off!
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entirelysein-e · 2 days ago
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『 Count for me 』
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☼ synopsis: Sanemi's training session went horrible and the way you crumbled cookies all over his fresh bedsheets made him lose it, taking his bad mood out of you and spanking you.
☼ character: Sanemi Shinazugawa
☼ wc: 1.1k
☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, a little fear play, spanking, one light slap to the face, oral (reader giving), face fucking, squirting, clit slapping, mean / feral Sanemi taking out his frustrations
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Sanemi hated how you have to eat in bed, especially when it crumbled and he just put fresh sheets on. You completely disregarded any concerns when you got out of the shower and cuddled under the sheets with some cookies and a good movie - that was until you heard the keys turn in the door, the package of cookies flying up from the small shock and spreading the baked goods along with their crumbs all over the clean sheets.
Knowing your lover will be anything but happy, you tried to collect most of it until his steps reached the bedroom door, the gentle smile he wore on his face slowly fading as if he witnessed a crime scene. In a last effort you wiped the crumbs onto the floor but they landed on the carpet in front of his side and you swore you saw a vein pop at his temple as he simply watched you.
“You have exactly 5 seconds to run,” he grumbled, which made you realize that his training session didn't go well, so he was already loaded with anger.
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Frozen in your fight or flight reaction the image of Sanemi taking his anger out on you flashed before your eyes, the way you only dirtied the sheets more with your juices, the way his rough hands spanked you until sitting hurt for the next few days but you whimpered for one more, one more slap to get you over the edge.
Pupils dilated from lust, you crumbled a cookie in your hand, seeing him getting angrier.
“You fucking- that's it!” he snapped, taking long strides towards you before forcing you to lay over his lap, you pajama shorts easily pulled down your legs which made you kick and whimper in his harsh grip.
His exterior cracked for a moment, concerned eyes meeting yours but the smallest nod from you was all the consent he needed, large hand rubbing the globes of your ass.
“You will count. Ten on each side,” He ordered sternly and his hand connected with one of your butt cheeks in a harsh slap.
“One,” you squealed out, the sting slowly traveling through your behind and into your body. Slap.
“Two,” Slap…
“If you miss one, I will start over,” he warned and you nodded as his hand rose anew, ready to connect with your supple flesh once more.
“THREE,” you yelped before his hand came down again, whining at the impact.
He just loved being able to take his anger out on you like this, being rough hand manhandling you all while pleasing you. Although it did make him wonder how this could possibly turn you on - but he preferred not to question it, his hand coming down to the globes of your ass repeatedly.
Your face was stained with tears at the end of the promised 20 hits and Sanemi gently wiped them away with his thumb
“You know i had to, princess…” he said sympathetic and gently spread your cheeks, getting a good look at your folds that were glistening with arousal.
“Such a naughty girl… getting wet from being punished,” he mused, his thumb plunging into your entrance, making your walls flutter around the thick digit, head nodding eager. This was what you needed, your neglected cunt screaming for your lover to be taken care of.
Without further hesitation Sanemi lifted you off of him to manhandle you onto all fours, facing him as he stood in front of the bed, slowly pulling the hem of his sweats down.
Your lover's cock slapped against his defined abs once it was freed, his menacing glare fixed on your pathetic face, begging to be fucked until you're nothing but a crying mess - his crying mess.
His hand connected to your face in yet another slap, much more gentle than the blows delivered to your rear.
“Don't just stare. Suck!” He ordered, every word laced with venom. You weren't fast enough for his liking so he took matters into his own hands, grabbing a fist full of your hair and forcing you to take him whole despite the resistance your throat put up.
Mercifully he waited until the gagging ceased, wishing his cock would choke you longer so he could hear your pathetic lungs begging for air, but your throat chose cock over oxygen since you remained still even when his hand removed itself.
Big doe eyes looked up at him until fat streaks of tears rolled over your cheeks - only then he took ahold of your head again so he can properly fuck your face. Heavy balls slapped against your chin, saliva coating the lower half of your face, slowly dripping onto the sheets beneath but he didn't care anymore, pulling out when he had his fill of your warm mouth.
“Turn around,” he growled an order and you immediately obeyed, your pathetic face pushed into the mattress when he thrusted into your sopping cunt with just one thrust, the oxygen leaving your lungs once more with each jolt of your body when he thrusted against your hips.
The sounds echoing off the walls were obscene, moans mixed with grunts, accompanied by the wet slaps of skin as he ruined you. Another slap on your ass left you clenching around his thick cock, a predatory grin spreading on his face when he reached around to rub your sensitive clit.
Your entire body was shaking at the intensity of your orgasm, clear liquid spraying onto the sheets, messing them up even more as the Hashira tapped your clit with small slaps, dragging out your orgasm until you collapsed.
Seeing you this helpless beneath him was what he needed, pulling out of your tight heat with a grunt, his hot seed spurting all over your back as he palmed himself above your miserable frame, legs still shaking. He held his weight up above you, still standing in front of the bed but his upper body was slumped over you. “Go clean yourself. You're so fucking dirty,” he mumbled and kissed the back of your neck, making you giggle slightly
“And I'll take care of the mess you made,” he added, the sheets ruined with your juices and the crumbs.
All he got in response was a low groan from you
“Can we take a bath together? Getting clean together and all,” you asked softly, unsure if you're even able to walk yourself to the bathroom since your legs felt like jelly. Sanemi only sighed before scooping you up into his arms
“You can be lucky that I love you,” he grumbled before kissing your forehead. Making a mess could be so relieving, especially if it's his loving girlfriend he can ruin.
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Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum
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vickythefamiliar · 3 days ago
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The (chaos) Coven
This is me, a tarantula on the "Witches Road"
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At first I wanna say I did not understand why the hell Rio played along with Agatha... It was soooo exhausting omg.
But nvm, I spend way too much time with these witches so here is my opinion on each one of them:
Jennifer
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Jennifer? Oh, she’s something else. The ‘all-business, no-nonsense’ vibe is impressive, I’ll give her that.
She’s sharp, like she’s always three steps ahead of everyone, and her wardrobe? Immaculate. I’m convinced she could outdress the apocalypse. She’s got this energy that either makes you want to follow her into battle or stay ten feet away at all times.
I don’t dislike her, but let’s just say she’s not the first person I’d share my cookies with.
Lilia
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When I first met Lilia, I thought: Finally, a grandma! She probably bakes nonstop and has a secret stash of cookies somewhere. Wrong. So wrong.
She’s feisty, unpredictable, and somehow always ten steps ahead. Honestly, it’s unsettling.
That said, I’ve gotta admit, her vibe is kind of iconic. The hair? A masterpiece. The whole ‘hippie meets mystical grandma meets chaotic freak’ aesthetic? Approved.
But seriously, Lilia, if you do have cookies, stop holding out on me. Sharing is caring.
Alice
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Alice... Where do I start? She’s got this whole ‘the world is against me’ thing going on. Honestly, it’s a little exhausting.
Like, girl, maybe your mom wrote that ballad for a reason other than just to mess with you. Ever think of that? No? Didn’t think so.
But underneath all the eye rolls and melodrama, there’s something real there. She just hasn’t figured herself out yet. She’s a work in progress, I guess.
Cookies for her? Maybe once she chills out. Maybe.
Billy/ Teen/ Wiccan (whatever)
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Ah, the prodigy with an attitude. Kid’s got power, no doubt about it, but he’s also got that ‘I know better than everyone else’ vibe. Which, honestly, is kind of funny coming from someone who can barely handle his own magic.
But I’ll give him this—he’s determined. He’s like a little storm in the making, and you can’t help but want to see where it’ll go.
Would I share my cookies with him? Maybe, if he asks nicely.
Agatha... (I call her "the ex-wife I didn’t sign up for")
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Agatha? Don’t even get me started. She’s powerful, no doubt, but it’s like she’s always trying to out-drama everyone in the room. She’s got this weird mix of arrogance and insecurity, and honestly, it’s exhausting.
Like, she’ll act like she’s got everything under control, but then, boom, she's throwing a tantrum because Rio didn’t call her back.
But hey, gotta admit, she’s got style—witchy, eccentric, a little unhinged. Honestly though, I'm just here for the chaos.
On the other hand she broke my mistresses heart more than once so I said it before and I say it again: If you're Agatha Harkness - LEAVE.
No cookies for her.
That's it. That's the post!
-🕷💚
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holylulusworld · 3 days ago
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Jerk next door (7) - Plans to make
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Summary: You move in next door to a jerk after a bad breakup.
Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader
Characters: Destroyer!Chris, Captain Syverson
Warnings: angst, mentions of past domestic violence (implied), mentions of divorce, mentions of past physical abuse, scared reader, mentions of past alcohol abuse, rueful Andy, mentions of murder
Jerk next door (6) - Two new players 
Jerk next door masterlist
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Syverson rolls his eyes. For the better part of five hours, Andy tries to devise a better plan than killing your ex. “I can make it look like an accident. Trust me.”
“Sy, even if you make it look like an accident, it’s still murder. We are better than this rotten bastard. I don’t think Y/N wants to live with the knowledge that she’s the reason for Beck’s death.”
“What if he’s getting into an accident? We could manipulate his car; this way, Y/N won’t feel guilty,” Chris throws in. He grunts as Andy shakes his head again. “It’s a good plan.”
“Again—it’s still murder, Chris. No killing him,” Andy points at Chris. “I know you’d love to take this man down, but we can’t run around and kill people.”
Chris shows his palms and says, “Fine, fine. No killing. What else can we do? You must admit that we can’t protect Y/N for the rest of her life. She wants her home and life back.”
Sy rubs his scruffy chin. He wrinkles his forehead while trying to come up with a better plan. When Andy called, Sy had already decided to take Quentin down. “What if—” he takes his time before he says. “He commits a crime and gets caught with his hand in the cookie jar.”
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Chris chuckles and slams his hand onto his thigh. “I knew you’d come up with a fucked-up plan. So, how do we do it?”
“It’s a rough draft,” Sy grumbles. “It’s the only way to make sure he cannot harm Y/N and won’t come back. If he’s locked away, there’s no way out.”
Andy frowns. He doesn’t share Chris and Sy’s enthusiasm. The skilled lawyer knows better than to keep his hopes high when it comes to justice. Sometimes you can give it all, and you will still lose. “If he gets sentenced. You know better than to have faith in our judicial machinery.”
Sy scoffs. “You’re an attorney lawyer and don’t believe in the system you defend every fucking day?”
“YES!” Andy barks and throws his hands up. “I see the worst scum walk out of the courtroom every day. I don’t have faith in the system most of the time. It disappointed me over and over again in the last few years. Even if he gets arrested after we faked a crime, there’s no guarantee he won’t get out.”
“Andy is not wrong,” Sy nods thoughtfully. “So, back to killing him?” He smirks at Andy. “Come on, you know that there is no other way. If you want Y/N to be safe, you must get your hands dirty.”
Andy grits his teeth and says, “No murder. Do you think they won’t look for Y/N? You know what the cops think, Chris. The partner, or ex-partner, is always suspect number one.”
“He’s not wrong, Sy,” Chris hates to admit that Andy is right. “We can’t kill him, and there’s no guarantee he won’t leave the courtroom as a free man.”
“What if I just give up?” You step inside the room. All three men look at you, following your every step as you sit down on the couch in Andy’s living room. “There’s no way out. Nowhere to run to. He wins.”
Andy winces because you look tired and worn out. It’s his fault. He blamed you for something you didn’t do, and there is no denying, he ruined your life. “No.” He simply says. “We won’t let him win. I lose against monsters like him in the courtroom. I won’t lose against that bastard.”
Burying your face in your hands, you sniffle. You don’t want Andy to watch you cry. He’s still the neighbor making your life a living hell. “Why do you even care? This is what you wanted! From the first moment you saw me, you wanted me to leave! I’ll be gone soon. Good job!”
“Christ, can you stop being so—” Andy sighs when you flinch at his harsh tone. “I know that I was the worst. Please believe me that I regret what I did. Let me at least try to make things up to you. Quentin Beck won’t hurt you ever again.”
“Alright,” Sy claps his hands. “It’s getting late. We won’t come up with a good plan tonight. I’ll take over the first shift and keep an eye on your house, Andy. Chris, you can take over in three hours.”
“Got it,” Chris says and gets up from his seat. “I’ll check on Y/N’s house and make my round. Sy, be careful. We shouldn’t underestimate that slimy piece of shit.”
“Got it.” Sy tips his hat before walking out of the living room. “I’ll be in my hideout, Andy. You know the signal.”
“Got it.” Andy nods. You stare at Andy. Everyone seems to get their plan. Everyone but you. There’s not a chance that Quentin will leave you alone. You lost hope the moment you heard he was in town. “Y/N, you should get some sleep. Sy, Chris, and I will make sure that he won’t even get close to you.”
You’re too tired and emotionally drained to argue. Maybe it’s better to not see your end coming.
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The floor creaks heavily under the intruder’s weight. He didn’t expect Andy’s house to be an obstacle. It was easy enough to get access to the neighborhood and to find out that his lovely ex-wife’s house is right next to Andy’s.
“Darling,” he whispers lowly. “If you let that bastard touch you, you’re going to regret it.” He hums and slowly creeps upstairs. He waited long enough for the other man to leave.
“What are you doing at my house?” Andy stands only a few feet away, watching Quentin’s face contort in anger. “You know, breaking and entering is a crime. And I have the right to defend my home and my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Quentin growls. He gets his gun out, aiming at Andy’s chest. “You’ll pay for hiding that bitch from me!”
Andy dodges the first bullet by dropping to the ground. He rolls behind the couch and waits for his chance.
“Do you think you can dodge the next bullet, too?” Quentin laughs and shoots in Andy’s direction. He hits the wall, but nothing else. Picture frames drop to the ground and shatter. “Huh? Get out, coward!”
“You should’ve counted your bullets.” Andy gets up from behind the couch. He smirks before firing three bullets into Quentin’s chest. “What a pity, you broke into my house and tried to kill me and your ex-wife. What else could I do but give you what you deserve?”
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Tags in reblog.
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em-ontv · 5 hours ago
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Need some space — d.w.
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader
Summary: Dean could never keep his hands off of you, latching onto you whenever he could
Content: fluff, established relationship, clingy/touch-starved Dean, not proofread, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!
Word count: 912
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Dean was a lot of things—sharp-tongued, reckless at times, stupidly brave—but you hadn't expected "clingy boyfriend" to be added to the list.
Yet somehow, here you were, flipping through dusty books with his head in your lap, eyes half-closed like an oversized housecat. He shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch, clearly uninterested in the research you were trying to get through.
"Dean," you sighed, nudging the book away from where it almost brushed against his face. "How am I supposed to read with your giant head in the way?"
"Don't mind me, sweetheart." he mumbled, eyes closing and voice bordering a purr. "You're doing great. Keep it up."
You gave his forehead a flick, earning a dramatic groan. He swatted half-heartedly at your hand but refused to move an inch. Instead, he stretched his legs out further, making himself even more comfortable.
"Seriously? You're not even gonna pretend to help?" you glared at him. "You know, I'd really appreciate it if you started flipping through some books too."
"Helping," he said lazily, cracking one eye open and giving you a smirk. "Emotional support."
Without waiting any further, he reached up, took your hand, and pressed it to his head. Your fingers tangled in his hair instinctively, and he melted under your touch like butter on a hot pan.
When you stopped and started to pull your hand back so you could flip a page of the book, he let out a pathetic whine, pushing your hand back against his head, like he’d die before letting you go.
"You're such a baby. I have to get this done before Sam comes back." you muttered, squishing his face between your fingers, making him pout.
"Cut it out," he grumbled, frowning up at you, though the way his frown dissolved when you laughed said otherwise.
"If you're not gonna help, you're not gonna complain either." you said, and he retaliated by kissing your wrist, peppering soft, warm kisses all the way up your arm.
You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. Dean's touchy-feely tendencies had only escalated since you started dating. Take the case last week, for example.
You'd been interviewing a witness at a diner, trying to keep your questions subtle and professional. Dean, however, had other ideas.
"So, you're saying the lights flickered just before you heard the noise?" you asked the frazzled waitress.
"Uh-huh," she nodded, glancing nervously between you and Dean.
Before you could respond, his hand found its way to the small of your back. Not a casual graze either—nope—it was a slow, deliberate caress, his fingers curling just enough to make his presence known. You froze, shooting him a warning glance, trying to shrug him off, but he was already leaning in closer, the picture of shamelessness.
"Sweetheart," he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. "You're doing amazing. Keep it up."
"Dean," you hissed through a forced smile. "Go sit down."
"What? I'm just keeping an eye on you," he replied, all wide-eyed innocence, grinning like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The poor waitress looked like she wanted to crawl into the freezer.
And then there was that time in the library when you'd been deep into research, scanning page after page. Dean had sauntered in, plopped down next to you, and proceeded to rest his chin on your shoulder while humming AC/DC under his breath.
"Keep reading, sweetheart. I’m comfy." he murmured when you tried to shoo him off, knowing he'd just distract you. His arm snaked around your waist, and before you could protest, he was already pressing slow, feather-light kisses along your jaw.
Or the night you snuck into the kitchen for some quiet time with a PB&J. Five minutes later, Dean appeared in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked half-asleep, his brows pinched in sleepy frustration.
"What are you doing?" you asked, mid-bite of a PB&J.
"Couldn't sleep," he said, padding over to you with a frown. "Why'd you leave?"
"Dean, I was gone for five minutes."
He made a noise of dissatisfaction, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling lazily into the crook of your neck. "Come back to bed with me." he muttered, his voice soft and heavy with sleep.
It was ridiculous. The same tough-as-nails hunter who'd taken on demons, monsters, and literal death couldn't go five minutes without missing you. But as much as you teased him for it, it brought a certain warmth to your heart.
Because for all his bravado, Dean was just a guy who'd spent most of his life terrified of losing the people he cared about, loved. His over-the-top clinginess? It was his way of making up for lost time.
"Alright, fine," you said, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich and dusting your hands off.
He grinned—smug at first, but it quickly melted into something far softer. He let out a content hum, nuzzling closer.
"Right now, please." he murmured, his voice heavy with drowsiness.
"Alright, just don't fall asleep on me in the middle of the kitchen." you said, rubbing his arm, leading him back to the comfort of your shared bed.
Under the covers, Dean curled up against you, his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried in your neck. His breath was gentle and even, warm against your skin. Just before sleep took him, he murmured faintly, "Love you, sweetheart."
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biteyoubiteme · 9 hours ago
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i keep thinking about a snowy winter with yeonkai, fireplace, cozy patterned rugs and blankets, christmas themed mugs filled with hot chocolate and marshmallows, baking christmas cookies (but icing and flour ends up all over the kitchen), matching pajamas!!
i am stressed with school and this scenario is calming me down. it seemed cute and i wanted to share it with my fav writer 💗
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cozy holiday sfw yeonkai x reader thoughts
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warnings: sfw, throuple/poly, established relationship, no mxm, just cozy christmas/holiday vibes.
wc: 0.4k
an: stop you're the sweetest omg and I hope you get a good rest in with any upcoming breaks you have. I swear you could hear me just turning on the chirstmas music today- I love your cozy yeonkai thoughts and I hope you like this <333 [m.list]
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It's the coziest time of the year for your shared apartment. Pulling out the accumulated Christmas decorations the three of you have collected over the years of spending the holiday together. Planning out exactly what Christmas pajamas the three of you will order, knowing that yeonjun in particular loves to wear the pants year round to bed so the decision is very serious. 
The three of you mutually agree to try and go as long as you can without turning the heater on fully, keeping it just warm enough so that you won't freeze but you won't feel smothered in heat when the fireplace is burning. But it's mostly an excuse to cuddle, “I'm so cold,” yeonjun will pout even sitting right on the floor next to the heat, arms open and waiting for you. The bed and couch decked out in all the holiday throw pillows and blankets. Wrapping up together under them, sandwiched between the two of them in bed, warming up cold feet under your flannel sheets. 
Every year you three buy a gingerbread house and struggle to put it together, frosting-covered fingerprints decorating all of your cheeks, and tips of your noses. Warmed hot chocolate dotted with little marshmallows, passed around every time you three sit to watch silly holiday movies on the tv. Playing classics and the cheesy hallmark movies that huening says he doesn't like but always finds himself smiling over. “He was a prince the whole time!” “Kai this is basically the same plot as the last one. How did you not see it coming?” “I was distracted by the cute romance,” 
The three of you trying to bake cookies, a tradition you uphold to give them out to your friends. And one batch is always somehow burned and needs to be redone after you all get distracted. But it's hard to listen to the timer when you're singing Christmas songs, dancing around the kitchen in your socked feet, slipping on the spilled flour that somehow got everywhere. Giggling when you pull out the forgotten sheet pan to see that the dough had spread your little sugar cookie people into burnt-edged blobs. 
Decorating the cookies that turned out well, Kai and yeonjun always make cookies of each other and ask you to judge who did better. Sprinkles are just everywhere by the end of the night. Yeonjun always swipes his frosting covered thumb over your bottom lip just to say, “Oh you've got a little something right there, let me get it for you,” kissing away sweetness. Kai smiles so wide when you dot every freckle on his face with a spot of frosting just to kiss it all away.
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taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!
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ohmydiva · 18 hours ago
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#in this universe too, pt 1
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synopsis . . . based on act 3 episode 9, ekko saves jinx and basically what could have happened during the timeskip, before the war between noxus and p&z.
words count . . . 2,257.
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“i learned from someone very special,” he said softly, “that no matter what happened in the past—”
curiosity sparked in her, though not enough to make her pull her finger away from the trigger of the bomb. it was enough to make her blink, the effort almost foreign, as if her body had forgotten how to react to the simplest things.
“... it’s never too late to build something new.”
her gaze stayed locked on him, her lips twitching. a faint, almost imperceptible scoff tugged at her mouth, but she swallowed it down, too tired to entertain the thought of mocking him.
"wow, deep. are you writing fortune cookies now ?" was what she wanted to say, but her words stayed trapped behind her tired eyes.
her gaze flickered to the boy’s side, where something unfamiliar caught her attention. she glanced down at his new accessory.
a bag ? no, not really. it had small windows glowing faintly blue. inside, a shimmering ball floated in the center, casting a soft light that danced along the edges of the bag like a miniature sun.
but that wasn’t what made her breath hitch. it was the toys—those monkeys toys. the tiny, plastic remnants of her childhood, lined up like little soldiers inside this impossible machine. her breath hitched—those weren’t just any toys; they were unmistakably hers. indeed, they were perfect replicas, or maybe they were the real ones, somehow stolen from her.
what is that ? what’s his deal ?
he noticed her reaction, glancing down at his new invention before looking back at her.
eager to know more but not quite ready to move, the blue haired girl’s eyes scanned the boy, studying him. he looked like he’d just wrestled a tornado and lost. dirt smeared across his clothes and the blood marking the crease of his forehead caught her attention the most. then, his shoes, untied and dragging on the floor, looked as defeated as he felt. he was a mess. a total mess.
what did he get himself into ?—fuck it. just pull the trigger. the thought flickered through her mind, distant, automatic. who cares what this wannabe rebellion leader has to say ?
but something about the way he looked at her, all wide eyes and desperation, made her pause. like he knew. like he’d seen something she hadn’t.
say it.
he fumbled for words, relief flooding him despite knowing the situation wasn’t won yet. this was his best shot—he had to get it right, had to keep her attention. he couldn’t let her pull that trigger. couldn’t let her give up on herself.
fuck it, what do i say now ?
her finger twitched, the small movement betraying her desire for him to say something—anything—that could pull her back from the edge. she wanted to be saved. she wanted him to save her.
“what—what’s even preventing you from trying?” he asked, voice stumbling but earnest.
i’ve tried too many times, she thought, but the words stayed buried, tangled in the fog of her mind.
“look—” he cut through her thoughts, his words tumbling over each other while his eyes were wide, almost pleading. “i, too, think of the past, but i—i don’t let those memories control my future ! i have my part to play too—”
she blinked, but the words blurred into nothingness, her eyelids heavy as if she could no longer hold them open. the sound of his voice faded into the background, like white noise.
shit. she’s bored.
“everything that i’ve done, the firelights, that tree—i mean, just staying alive, i did it for everyone !” the boy’s voice cracked as he spoke louder now, desperation growing in his words with his hands moving in the air aggressively.
her eyes flicked to his hands, frantic in their movements. then back to him, her brow twitching with frustration.
say more.
“for… benzo, and for—” he hesitated, a sudden awareness dawning the boys stopped mid sentence, mentally slapping himself. he’d almost named the dead—her family. he didn’t want to tread on that raw ground, didn’t want to accidentally make it worse. but now it felt like he was suffocating in the silence between them.
her sigh broke the moment.
it wasn’t like she wanted to be interested—she lied to herself—it just ... happened. something about his words had a way of slipping past her defenses. no. it’s not like he knew exactly which threads to tug to make her listen. on the contrary, she still found the boy pretty cheesy … but that was probably it. it’s the boy, her old friend—her childhood crush—, not just his words.
she hated how easily he drew her in. yet, somehow, she also felt relieved.
“i did it for you too,” he added, his voice soft but steady.
how cringe.
her gaze lingered, her eyes tracing his gestures as if trying to piece together the puzzle of his sincerity.
she saw it then : his hand, cautiously extending toward her, palm up and fingers looking steady inside his thick glove.
her breath caught as the scene felt painfully familiar.
it was a quiet offering, no words attached, just a simple motion that carried more meaning than he realized. the light was different, the faces older, but the moment was the same. the memory hit like a punch, the scene overlapped in her mind, the past bleeding into the present : the same hand, years ago, reaching for her, trembling with unspoken words she hadn’t been ready to hear. she’d refused it then. turned her back. walked away to stay with silco.
she lifted her head, bringing her gaze back to his.
“last time i refused to take your hand, things didn’t end well, huh” she muttered, her voice tight.
taking my hand ?
she was mistaken. his hand had been outstretched not to pull her in, but to pull the danger away. to take the bomb, the burden from her hands before it consumed them both, again.
it was an awful realization—the kind that scraped against his chest and squeezed his lungs.
he chuckled, trying to ease the tension, his voice soft and playful. “so … you gonna let the boy-savior save you this time ?”
a short laugh escaped her—sharp, breathy—as she shook her head.
she reached for his hand, the bomb still in her grasp, before allowing the boy to wrap his hand around hers, instinctively pulling her closer before he could second-guess himself.
shit. too close.
their eyes met, the awkwardness hung in the air, thick and palpable, as if he’d made the wrong move, but couldn’t take it back now.
the proximity felt too much, too soon, and yet—there was something strangely comforting about it. neither of them spoke, the silence settling over them as their smiles faded. it was a closeness they hadn’t expected, and yet there was something oddly comforting about it.
panicked, the boy looked down at the bomb, still clutched in her other hand. he reached for it, giving her one last glance, a silent plea to let go. to let him take it from here.
slowly, she relented, handing him the bomb with a familiar pout curving on her lips.
“just, spin its head and take it off” she instructed, her voice slowly regaining its raspiness. he didn’t hesitate, the boy did so immediately, letting go of her hand.
now ?
he glanced around. the boy eventually walked away, inviting her toward her desk. every step was careful, like they were walking on fragile ground that might crack beneath them while the atmosphere was still pretty awkward.
"you know," he started, his voice nervous, but sincere. “something crazy happened to me ... you won’t believe it.” he caught her eye for a second, then quickly looked away, the tension still palpable.
“oh yeah, what kind of crazy, ekko ?” she smirked, her voice teasing, as though mocking the awkwardness between them. her tone had finally returned to that familiar rasp, distancing herself from the vulnerability she’d just shown.
ekko’s eyes lit up.
for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to dream and maybe, the friendship—and little romance—he enjoyed with jinx in an alternative universe, could still happen in this one.
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saioratral · 21 hours ago
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so there's this professor... - 01 Fractured Equations masterlist
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“do you even know yourself, or are you just another child moulded by the world around us?”
your small eyes search for the voice, a distant echo floating in the cold air. you shuffle closer, yearning for the warmth of the fading memory, but the chilly air of britain’s streets sink into your bones. here, survival isn’t merely a skill; it’s a daily battle that leaves you feeling small and utterly alone like a speck of dust
“promise me you won’t fall into the mould”
you look up, your heart aching at the sight of her sad smile painted on like a fragile mask of a porcelain doll, cracking at the edges. behind it lies grief far too vast for a seven-year-old to fathom.
how could you ever comprehend the weight of her sorrow? 
your tiny hands reach out, desperate for comfort, but all you grasp is emptiness—the coldness of fingers that once cradled you close, now forever still. cold hands fall on your face as you stare in horror
no word slips from your lips, not even a fragile whisper, just a silent plea from your heart. another reminder that love can vanish, leaving only absence in your already empty void. you want to scream, to shake her from her slumber.
but instead, you sit there. hope became a cruel joke, and the warmth of her embrace is a ghost that taunts you. tears prick as you try your hardest to carve her smile into your memory. in that moment, you realise 
you’re not just searching for her; you’re searching for yourself in the ruins of her despair. 
“mother..?”
“hold on- let me say goodbye to my mother before we head off”
you snap back to the present, watching your best friend dash into his mother’s store. you see her happy smile as she leans down, allowing him to plant a small kiss on her cheek before he turns away. you’ve always waited for him before heading to class. it’s a cherished tradition: you walk to his house in the morning, and he walks you back after class
“flowers? my mom had extras,” alvin offers, pushing a small bouquet of neatly arranged lavender roses into your hands.
“you always give me the same kind,” you say, bringing it closer
“blame my mom for growing too many. come on! we’re going to be late!” he insists, pulling you along, not wanting to elaborate 
“i miss my mother whenever i see yours,” you mutter softly, the words slipping out before you can catch them
“i miss her too- even though i never met her. which is weird if you think about it,” alvin replies, glancing back at your sad expression
“i can’t remember her anymore”
you switch off your thoughts for a moment, letting him navigate through the bustling marketplace. you treasure these few minutes, allowing your imagination to roam. daydreaming is another beloved pastime, and alvin provides the perfect escape into your bubble of comfort.
with your bag slung over his shoulder, he takes your hand in his free hand, unwilling to lose you in the crowd.
“i heard we have a new maths professor,” alvin begins again, trying to lift the mood
“he’s supposed to be young and a genius,” he adds, looking at you for a reaction.
“maths professor? what about mrs aya?” you suddenly remember
“oh, her? thomas said she’s now in his astronomy class- lucky fella,” alvin groans
you laugh at his silliness. the only reason he liked mrs. aya was for the free snacks she gave out after class. her husband, a wealthy lord, often sent treats during her lessons, accompanied by a signature green note that wished her a great day ahead. 
“one day, i’m going to find out who her lover is so i can ask if he has a sister! i’ve never tasted such wonderful cookies,” alvin reminisces
“i guess you won’t have them anymore,” you pat his back as he sulks at the thought
and just like that, you both walk toward your university building. alvin greets everyone he sees on campus, a habit that leaves you questioning his motives
“no? i’m not friends with security, but everyone deserves a good smile!” he responds cheerily
“you’re not fully dressed without a smile.”
“did you just quote haz-”
“stop. robert and his gang.. again”
with that, alvin moves you behind him, muttering about “stupid rich boys” as they approach. you clutch the flowers closer, watching him roll his eyes dramatically. a sigh escapes his lips as he stands face-to-face with robert
“how do you always bump into us? it’s almost like you wait here,” alvin begins
“me? wait for some peasants? do you not know who i am? i am robert smith! the-”
“the second son of lord smith and the sole heir of the luxury leather manufacturers. we know. you’re a broken record at this point,” alvin interrupts, mimicking him.
“i see [last name] still comes here. have you not found a partner yet? you keep coming to ‘educate’ yourself, but what’s the point? no one would hire a low-class rat,” robert retorts, his friends snickering in the background.
“i told you to leave us alone, right? get lost” alvin insists, trying to shoo robert away, but he stands firm
“i could propose to spare your lowly life… i do need a new piece for my future collection,” robert continues to taunt
“ooh, how unfortunate! to me, [name] leroy sounds a lot better than [name] smith- which, by the way, sounds like a shoe polisher,” alvin shoots back as he walks away with you
“you don’t always have to defend me,” you mutter, glancing back at the fuming robert.
“grow a spine first stupid” alvin replies, looking at you with his usual smile.
with that, you both reach your first class. mathematics has its own muse, but you’ve never understood the supposed muse. while you’re not failing, you’re certainly not a star student either. you settle into your seats in the middle rows as alvin struggles to see the board from far
“glasses aren’t such a bad thing…” you comment as you pull out your notebook.
“true, but i don’t see why i should pay so much just to read the board,” alvin sighs, slouching back with his latest magazine.
“you’re going to pay attention to the board… with a magazine?” you question.
“shush, i don’t want to label you as a snitch,” he teases, flipping through the pages.
you let the conversation drop, not wanting to disturb his reading. your gaze drifts around the classroom, where a mix of new faces and familiar ones fills the room. it’s a new semester, and getting into the university was not easy, given the challenging entry requirements.
right on cue, your new professor walks in. his striking blonde hair catches your eye, making him stand out immediately. even his three-piece brown suit looked more expensive than your entire snack budget.
he stands before the board, chalk in hand, neatly writing his name with precision. even his handwriting exudes a sense of perfection. he appears rather young for a mathematics professor, surprising you further.
“i am william james moriarty,” he introduces himself as he turns to the students. “i’ll be teaching mathematics.”
"moriarty...?", alvin mumbles the name and shudders. you look at him strangely but he doesn't seem to care
“i hope you take this class seriously. i remember a quote by albert einstein,” william states.
“pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas.”
“what is he even saying?” alvin whispers, and you shrug in response
“now, some of you might be like mr. leroy here, confused as to why i brought this up,” william continues. “think of my words as motivation.”
“he knows my name??” alvin gasps, nearly shouting in your ear
“i am well aware of everyone’s name, mr. leroy. you’re not as quiet as you presume to be,” he replies, and the class erupts into laughter. 
you can’t help but join in as alvin buries his face in his arms, magazine forgotten on the floor. the rest of the class unfolds normally. your professor teaches, and the time slips away. class had ended before you even finished your notes. 
“should we get him a little gift?” you ask as you pack your bag
“a gift?? for him?? after he embarrassed me??” alvin exclaims, his bewildered expression making you laugh
“your hair is messy again silly”, you sighed 
a silence falls between you, and you reach out to push the bangs from his forehead. he flinches, feeling your hand before swatting it away to fix his hair himself muttering about how he could do it himself 
“okay, so what are you going to get him, your majesty?” alvin rolls his eyes
“a set of new chalk?” you suggest 
“chalk? why? the school provides him with a huge box!” he reasons.
“no, no! i mean the kind used by mathematicians- hagoromo chalk! isn’t it nice? i could even knit him a small napkin to clean the board later on!” you continued 
“i don’t see you putting this much effort into my gifts…”
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© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest
taglist (forgot to post- whoops):
@fishii28 @ayaswrld @eliasorchard @onna-musha-mari @dija200
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camillomea · 11 hours ago
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child of crime alley chapter 5: nox
and new chapter. I hope you like it. Write your thoughts in the comments. Enjoy reading. Thanks for everyone's support.
Tim was working on something on his computer when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He had only left his post once to go on patrol for an hour but had returned when the patrol was over. He had jumped when he felt a hand and grabbed the hand that was holding him. It was Jason. “Hey bird, it’s me. I’m sorry. I was calling out to you and you didn’t hear me. That’s why,” he said. Tim let go of his hand and relaxed when he saw him. Jason said, “Good reflexes little bird.” Tim asked, “Thanks. What’s the matter?” Jason said. Tim looked over there curiously and saw a tray with a plate of cookies and two mugs in it. He sniffed the air and murmured, “It smells nice.” Jason chuckled. He put the tray on the table. “Go on, eat it bird. You should eat the cookies before the vultures swarm,” he said. Tim tilted his head to the side curiously. Jason asked, “It’s not a big deal bird. What time does your shift start?” Tim looked at his watch. “It’s 4 o’clock. That means we have 45 more minutes,” he said as he picked up one of the cookies and started eating it. Jason said “You need to eat.” Tim shook his head “I’ll eat when I get there. My workplace is a cafe and they serve hot pastries at all hours, to be honest I can’t wait to go and eat.” A voice said “Do you prefer Alfred’s food to a crappy cafe?” Tim looked over and saw Damian. Jason said “Dami” in a warning tone. Damian said “What the hell?” Tim said “Kid, I’ve never had Alfred’s food in my life. So I can’t compare” he said expressionlessly. Damian flinched “That’s impossible” he said. Jason said “He’s telling the truth” Damian froze. But they knew my situation and made sure I ate without a penny even though I had money for a long time. So no matter what happens that place will always have a special place in my heart.” Damian froze at that. Jason said “Drink your drink, bird, eat it before you go to work. I didn’t make it for nothing” Tim said “Sorry for the trouble”. Jason, no need to be sad, bird, I got some for myself too, look,” he said, pointing to the tray. Tim nodded silently. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Jason ruffled his hair gently. Tim looked at him with glassy eyes. It was obvious he wasn’t used to this. Jason pulled his hand away. “Oh, by the way, Bird, I’ll drop you off, it’s cold out here, don’t freeze,” he said. Tim said, “I don’t want to bother.” Jason said, “Hey, you live in the alley, it’ll just be up the road.” Tim hesitated but nodded. “Thanks, Hood,” he said quietly. Jason said, “Of course.” Then he asked, “By the way, where do you work?” Tim said, “Uh, uh,” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. Tim asked, “Do you remember the Nox cafe in the alley?” Jason froze. “Is that the place in the alley that gives free food to anyone who can’t afford it?” Tim nodded. Jason said, “WAIT! Are you telling me you met the owner?” Tim said, “I’m exercising my right not to answer,” he said, looking away. Jason’s eye twitched. “Timmy, timbelina, timbuktu, timothea, thea now please answer me. Have you met or not?” he asked. Tim said. “Maybe.” Jason said. “Okay. So who is this person?” he asked patiently. Tim looked away and took a long sip of his hot chocolate. “Good.” Jason’s eye twitched. “Bird.” Tim said. “You wouldn’t believe it even if I told you.” Jason said. “Try it.” Tim took out his phone and typed in a name. Jason leaned over and looked at the text. He blinked. “Are you serious?” he said. Tim nodded and continued drinking his drink, closing the screen. Jason sighed. “Whoever it is, I barely ate there when I was little. I guess I’ll have to go say hello to him later.” Tim shrugged.
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the-perverse-library · 2 days ago
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Ruby was certainly getting attention now that she had large tits, thick thighs, and a bouncy ass. All of team RWBY had bodies of bimbos now, something that Ruby's teammates were suspicious about. Ruby lied that it was due to some special cookies, but she wanted to keep the boombox a secret.
Ruby was flaunting and showing off her new assets so much that even Jaune was mesmerized, and Weiss was not happy about that. When she investigated her roommate's belongings she would find the boombox, only to be blindsided by large fat cheeks. Ruby had Weiss pinned down face down and ass up, their round bouncy cheeks pressed together.
"Sorry Weiss, but I can't have you stealing my boombox~"
"Yours?! Ugh! I knew you cheated to get so big! Stay away from Jaune!"
"I will, if you can beat me~"
Weiss was confused before Ruby would channel her aura to the boombox, the base kicking as the words played. Ruby was already dancing, possibly getting bigger and Weiss had no choice but to do battle with their fat asses. Cheeks will ripple, clap, crash and shake the foundation for who is the ultimate booty queen!
baby work baby twerk baby rock baby drop baby work baby twerk
you wiggle wop
baby drop baby work baby twerk baby rock baby drop
baby lemme see you wop
The dorm shook from the boombox's bass, and the thunderous clashes of Ruby and Weiss's fat asses hammered into one another. The music filled their bodies and minds as both Huntresses wanted to prove that they were the better bimbo and worthy of Jaune and his attention. They quickly began to outgrow their clothes as the boombox's power once more affected them both.
baby work baby twerk baby rock baby drop baby work baby twerk
"G-give up! D-daddy belongs to me!" Weiss squealed as she thundered her ass down onto Ruby, trying to use her stronger leg muscles and gargantuan ass to force Ruby onto her knees. "Daddy only needs one princess, and that's me!"
"N~not fair!!! Jaune was my bestie first, so we should be a couple!" Ruby argued back as she felt her body eagerly swell to try and match Weiss's obscene bimbo curves. "Y-you didn't even like him when you two met!"
you wiggle wop
Those words only seemed to incense Weiss as she planted her hands onto her knees and tried to bury Ruby beneath her ass as the residual dust in her body responded to her new growth. "You had your chance, and you wasted it! D-daddy is mine! MINE!!!" Just as she was about to win, Ruby pushed against her, causing her to stumble forward onto her knees.
"I will be the booty queen of this team and be Jaune's girlfriend!!!" Ruby shouted as she used her Semblance to keep Weiss beneath her as her ass grew rapidly. All sense of decency was gone from the reaper as her mind kept replaying the moment they caught Jaune and Pyrrha "training" Weiss, and how much she wanted to be in Weiss' place.
baby drop baby work baby twerk baby rock baby drop
baby lemme see you wop
The boombox wound down as the song finished, and the two Huntresses had become perfect mirrors of one another. All around them were the tattered remains of their clothes as they stared at one another, taking in their round, heavy tits, supple bellies, thick thighs, and unbelievably massive asses. Neither one wanted to back down, and a victor hadn't been decided, so that meant they'd have to have another dance-off. But before either of them could reach the boombox, a voice called out to them.
"Would you look at that? Our Angel went and made a friend." Jaune chuckled as he entered the dorm room, followed by Pyrrha.
"Indeed she did," Pyrrha nodded as she looked at Ruby with the eyes of a hungry wolf eyeing a lone, defenceless sheep.
"M-Mommy, Daddy." Weiss whimpered as she felt Jaune wrap his hands around her, squeezing her new tits gently as he groped at her ass. "I-I did exactly as you said! I-I stole the boombox from Goodwitch, and I made Ruby big, c-can I cum now? p-please!" She looked into Jaune's smouldering eyes as she felt his fingers slip from her nipples to her pussy, and felt him pinch her clit between his fingers and release a surge of aura. Weiss' world went white as she came. For the first time since being discovered by her team, Daddy had finally let her cum.
"Don't you want to feel like that?" Ruby heard Pyrrha whisper in her ear as she watched Weiss go limp in Jaune's arms as she gushed and squirted like crazy. "To able to feel a pleasure so intense that you just lose all control? Well, if you do, come to the gymnasium after dark with Weiss." Pyrrha kissed Ruby on the neck before spanking the reaper on the ass. "Jaune is more than enough to handle the two of you; come down to the gymnasium after dark, and we'll train you just as long and as hard as our Angel."
Ruby couldn't find her voice as her body felt like it was buzzing with pleasure, so she quickly nodded, earning herself another spank across her massive ass.
"Use your words, Cookie, want do you want from Mommy and Daddy?" Pyrrha pressed as she slipped two of her fingers into Ruby's pussy. "What is it you want from us?"
Ruby clung to Pyrrha as the Unbreakable Warrior turned her mind to mush. "I-I..." Ruby started, her voice uneven. "I want Mommy and Daddy to treat me like they treat Weiss!" Ruby screamed as she came all over Pyrrha's fingers.
"Then we'll see you tonight." Pyrrha cooed as she brought her hand up to Ruby's face and made the reaper suck her own juices off of Pyrrha's fingers.
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idontcaboose · 4 months ago
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Haunted car au part 8
Previous Masterpost
Danny almost panicked again when the alarm to the cave went off. Surely Duke hadn't narc'd on him so soon? He can't blame him if he did, but that would be uncool. It wasn't until both Batman and Duke ran towards the car that Danny really started questioning his life.
“Signal, I need a solid answer, is the Batmobile compromised?”
Danny was so happy the dark knight was growling that at Duke, Danny didn't think he would be able to stay composed if that glare was set onto him.
“B,” Duke said as he put on his helmet, “I promise that the Batmobile is not compromised in a way that will negatively affect our mission right now. If anything bad happens, I will gladly be benched and will give everyone my cookies for a month.” with that Duke jumped into the passenger seat and quietly said, “get in the back” to Danny.
Batman got into the driver's seat not a second after Danny teleported into the back seats.
“I will trust that you will give a full report Signal.”
“O’course B, but let's go save Red.”
Duke Signal hit a button on the radio, and Danny had to cover his ears. The noise was akin to switching a radio dial quickly throughout all the channels before it finally settled on one, but instead of music, a feminine voice filled his head and projected out. Danny wondered if this was what a ventriloquist dummy felt like.
“Red Robin has activated his emergency beacon and was last seen at his stakeout spot over in the harbor area. No big names are out of Arkham at the moment, Kite Man is around but not likely to be him. Sending his tracker location to you B.”
A small ping filled the interior, and Danny knew right where they were going. The GPS said it would take way too long to get there. Fortunately, Batman drove like his dad but was a little bit more mindful of all obstacles on the road. To say the least, Danny was impressed that they got to their destination in no time and without a scratch on him.
Next
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Tag list that I will probably stop tagging since there is a master post now? Please inform me of tag etiquette.....
@kizzer55555 @sebas-nights @candeartist422 @trappednyourheart @fandom-life-corrupted-me @tkiesai @2lbballpeenhammer @admiralwidow @rewrittenwrongs @whotfevenknowsanymore @symmetricalastigmatism
@thespacedragons
@atinygracie @okami-love
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snoopyracing · 4 months ago
Text
birds of a feather // cl16
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
word count: 30k (i know i've got issues)
warnings: google translate french and swearing
includes: friends to lovers, childhood bestfriends, soulmate au if you squint, heavy pining, and angst
summary: follows charles and the reader through childhood all the way to present day. based off of 'birds of a feather' by billie eilish.
masterlist
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
five and eight
It's a hot summer day in Monaco the first time Charles meets you.
The evening sun cascaded through the windows, golden rays bouncing off the walls as the smell of his Mother's baking wafted through the house. Charles' legs soon carried him into the kitchen and to his delight he found her oven-mitt clad hand pulling out a tray from the oven. His eyes widen when he sees what it is, it's one of his favorite sweet treats; cookies. His Mother spots him as she turns to set them on the counter. "Bonjour chéri!"
Charles doesn't answer, he's too focused on the cookies. He knows she won't let him have one, it's too close to dinner time, but he could probably sneak one when she had her back turned. So when she goes to put something back in the fridge he knows this is his chance, but he's not fast enough. His little hand barely hovers over one of the cookies before his Mother is gently smacking it away.
"No Charles! They are for the Y/L/N's." She hands him a stack of plates, motioning towards the table. "Now go set the table, s'il te plaît." Charles whines about it not being fair before stomping towards the table.
All day the only topic of conversation in the Leclerc household was about how an old family friend was to be moving back to Monaco today. Charles and Arthur had no idea who the man their Father spoke so highly about was, but Lorenzo mentioned something about him being their "uncle", but not really their uncle. Something that at only eight years old, confused Charles.
Even during dinner it seems like his Father mentions their "uncle" somehow during every conversation. Between the constant talk of this mystery man and the cookies sitting feet away from him Charles thinks tonight's dinner is the longest dinner of his life. He can see them sitting there, the cookies taunting him the whole time he tries to eat the unpleasant brussel sprouts on his plate. He hears his Father mention their "uncle" again and his attention is brought back to the conversation. "Papa. Is he really our uncle?" Charles asks as he shoves around the food on his plate with his fork.
"Ah, no. I mean he practically is, but not by blood. He is a very old friend of mine. We grew up together, but he moved to America around nine years ago." He pauses for a moment, eyes flickering between Charles and Arthur. "I hate that Arthur and you don't know him, but he's back now, so hopefully you boys will see him as an uncle like Lorenzo does. Plus, their house is just down the street, so I'm sure we will be spending lots of time with each other."
All Charles can do is nod at him, he isn't sure that he can call this random man "uncle", but for his Father he will try to like him as much as he clearly does.
Dinner is over shortly after their conversation, with a little help from his Father's impatience to go see his old friend. And before Charles can try and sneak a cookie again they are out the door, the cookies held securely in his Mother's hands, heading to their "uncles" house.
Charles realizes his Father wasn't lying when he said their house was just down the street, in fact it's only a block away. He's surprised his Father wasn't dragging them here earlier today with how close it is.
His Father knocks on the door and after a moment a man answers."Hervé!” 
"Y/D/N!"
The two men embrace each other, big smiles plastered on both of their faces. "If it was up to me we would have been over as soon as you guys arrived earlier today, but Pascale insisted we give you guys a little time to settle in."
"Oh nonsense. You're fine." The man steps aside, motioning for everyone to come in. "Come on in. Don't mind the million boxes scattered around."
"It's a beautiful home." Pascale states as she glances around.
"Merci."
The man's eyes wander to Charles and his brothers. His arms extend towards Lorenzo and the two of them hug, the man tousling Lorenzo's hair as they pull away. "Dieu te regarde! You're practically a man!"
Lorenzo can only laugh at the man, whose attention is now on the two youngest Leclerc boys. He crouches down so he's at eye level with them. "Bonjour. I don't think we have met yet. I'm Y/D/N, a very old friend of your Papa's." His hand reaches out for Charles to shake. "You must be Charles."
Charles gently takes Y/D/N's hand and shakes it, something he's seen his Father do hundreds of times. "I am. How did you know?"
A smirk plays at Y/D/N's lips. "When your Papa and I speak, he loves to talk about his boys. Even the ones I didn't get the pleasure of meeting until now." His attention now moved to the youngest Leclerc. "Like you little Arthur." Little giggles came from Arthur as the man pinched his cheek.
"Are we going to get to meet the other members of your family Y/D/N?" Pascale asks.
"Patience still isn't your strong suit, is it Pascale?" The man teases as he leads them towards the kitchen.
As they enter the kitchen they find a woman with an American accent putting away dishes into the cabinets. From what Charles can gather from the conversation the adults are having is that their "uncle" met his wife while on business in America. They fell in love and he ended up moving there to be with her. They got married and had a daughter. He wanted to raise her here so they decided to move back to Monaco.
"Guess you should all meet the reason we moved huh? Y/N! Ma chérie come here!" Y/D/N yells.
And here you came, barreling into the kitchen, not knowing that there were five strangers standing there until it was too late. Cheeks turning pink as you hid behind your Mom's legs. "This shy little thing is our daughter, Y/N."
Pascale's face lit up at the sight of you. "Oh tu n'es pas une poupée? She's beautiful you two!" She glances over at your parents then back to you. "You look to be around the age of my two youngest boys, no?" She squats down so the two of you are eye level as you peak around your Mom's legs. "How old are you?" As you lifted your hand, little fingers all stood up straight indicating that you were five, Pascale smiled. 
"Oh, that's the same age as my Arthur." She points towards the smallest boy, who's dirty blonde hair almost covered his eyes. She then points to the slightly taller boy in the middle, his soft blue eyes watching his Mom intently. "That is Charles, he's a little older than Arthur and you. He's eight." Then she finally points to the obviously very older son. "And that is Lorenzo, he's a lot older. It makes me feel old to say this but he's eighteen!"
Your shyness somehow slowly got chipped away by Pascale and you were now standing beside your Mom, not behind her. "Go on baby. Say hi to them." You Mom encouraged as she brushed your hair out of your face.
Even if you had braved coming out from behind your Mom's legs, the idea of talking to these strangers still scared you. You looked over to your Dad who stared back at you, a smile on his face and a slight nod in your direction told you everything was going to be okay.
"Hi." You said meekly.
The two younger boys gave you a small wave in return.
The adults had started to converse, leaving the kids to stand there awkwardly. Not knowing each other well to be the one to initiate conversation or play.
Your Mom had noticed the quietness between you and the boys, and your constant presence by her legs. "Why don't you kids go play out back? The house luckily came with a playset that is begging to be played on." She pulled open the sliding door, motioning for the kids to go outside.
Arthur was the first to run outside, he was practically already at the door when he heard the word playset. His little legs were already running up the slide by the time Charles and you had exited the house.
You watched your feet drag across the grass as you swung back and forth on the swing. Your Dad's voice playing in your head as you heard Charles and Arthur's laughter echo through the hot summer air.
"I know this is a big change for you mon amour. But I promise, we wouldn't have made this big move if your Maman and I didn't think it wouldn't have been a good idea. It may take some time for you to adjust, but knowing you, in a couple weeks you'll probably be more of a Monégasque than me!"
"I'm only half though. How could I be more than you Papa?" Tiny giggles escaping you as you gave your Father a questioning look.
"Anything is possible chérie! Plus you remember me talking about your uncle Hervé? Well, he has two boys that are around the same age as you. And I'm positive you three will become the bestest of friends like we were at that age in no time. When your Uncle Hervé and I were younger people would always say "Wherever there is a Y/L/N there is a Leclerc" and I'm sure it will live on through you three."
As you watched the two Leclerc boys chase each other through the yard, you knew your Dad would want you to get up and go join them. He seemed so excited at the idea of you and the boys being friends and you didn't want to disappoint him, but at only five years old, your shyness overruled the majority of your decisions.
Charles, even though he was playing with his brother, had noticed how you hadn't left the swing since coming outside. He tried to put himself in your shoes, he couldn't even imagine what it would be like to move halfway across the world.
What it would be like to leave everything you've ever known behind and move to a country that is nothing like the one you'd spent your whole life in so far. Even if your Father was from here and technically Monaco is as much of your home as America ever was, he knows that at least right now, this place means nothing to you.
So, being the empath that he is, Charles decides that it's his mission to make you feel at home. To make you realize that Monaco has been your home all along. That if he was you right now, all he would want is for someone to befriend him, make him feel less alone. His first step; asking you to play.
His skinny frame soon occupies the empty swing next to you, hands gripping the chains as he barely moves back and forth. His feet mimicked yours, dirt and grass staining his white sneakers.
"Hi." Charles watched as your head perked up at his voice. Your doe eyes timidly looking over at him like you weren't sure if he was speaking to you.
"Hi."
"Do you wanna play with Arthur and me?" Charles hopes you don't run back inside after hearing his question, but when your face lights up, head nodding enthusiastically, his worries dissipate. You were just so glad that he had come over and asked you, because you would have sat there on that swing all evening if he hadn't.
In a matter of minutes your shyness and worries about upsetting your Father were replaced with bouts of laughter as Arthur and you ran from Charles. Gleeful screams and giggles filled the evening air as the three of you played and for the first time since getting told you were moving you felt carefree.
The loud laughter and yelling had gotten the attention of the adults and as they watched their children play through the sliding glass door they couldn't wipe the smiles off their faces.
"That didn't take long did it?" Your Mom felt a relief wash over her. At only five years old she knew this move was going to be hard on you, and she wished they could have just stayed in America. But who was she to deprive you of experiencing the life that was quite literally half of you. Deprive her husband of seeing his little girl experience the same things he did as a child.
And as she watched the way the three kids played together she knew it was the right decision. For you to come out of your shell so quickly meant that maybe things weren't going to be so bad here after all.
"Of course it didn't." Your Dad stood behind your Mom, his hand on her shoulder as he watched his little girl laugh and run around. "Because wherever there is a Y/L/N-"
"there is a Leclerc." Hervé finished, an equally big smile on his face.
The painting of orange and pink hues that filled the evening sky told everyone that the sun was making her farewell for the day. Though, that didn't stop you and the boys from still playing and eventually as the colorful painting turned to a star filled sky you all were called inside.
Rosy cheeks and sweaty foreheads adorned all three of your faces as you clambered into the kitchen. "Looks like you kids had fun." Pascale had grabbed the cookies off the counter, but as she opened the lid to offer the kids one, she had a better idea. "How about some ice cream?" Charles' eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. He loved cookies, but his one true love was ice cream. "I think the place down the road is still open."
And with an unspoken agreement, they are all out the door and headed towards the ice cream shop. Charles and you walk side by side with Arthur trailing behind the two of you. His complaints about being left out falling on deaf ears as Charles tells you about how good the ice cream place is.
The walk isn't a long one and before you realize it, you've arrived. The sickeningly sweet smell hits you as soon as you walk through the door, and your short legs carry you towards the counter, not paying mind to any sort of line that was already formed. Your face was practically pressed against the glass as you looked at all the flavors to choose from. But even with flavors like triple chocolate or strawberry or peanut butter cup. You always go with your tried and true; vanilla.
Charles and Arthur had joined you, faces as equally as close to the glass as yours.
"You think Maman will let me try them all?" Arthur asks, mouth practically watering at the sight in front of him.
"I don't know about that." You recognize your Dad's voice behind you. "You guys tell me what you want and then go wait at the table outside with Lorenzo." The three of you reluctantly turn away from the ice cream and when Arthur tells your Dad he wants mint, Charles and you share a disgusted look. "Ok mint for Arthur, what about you two?"
"Vanilla!" Comes out of both Charles and your mouth. Big smiles spread across your faces as you realize you both said the same thing.
"No way that's my favorite flavor!" Charles exclaims.
"Mine too!"
By the time your Dad comes outside with the ice cream Charles and you had established that; vanilla was the best flavor of ice cream ever, blue was your favorite color, red was his, you both loved dogs, and that he wanted to be a Formula 1 driver when he grew up. You didn't really know what that was, you think you had heard your Dad talking about it or watching it before, but the way Charles talked about it, it seemed like it was something big.
After many brain freezes and Arthur trying to make Charles and you try his mint ice cream, the night was coming to an end. The walk back home was filled with talks of things that you guys had to do this summer, according to Charles, and about how tonight would not be the last trip to the ice cream shop.
As you arrived at your house the grownups said their farewells and goodnights, while you gave everyone a simple wave goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow!" Charles yelled as you entered the front door, and all you could do was yell back.
"Ok!"
And Charles wasn't lying, you did see him the next day, and the day after that. In fact, any free day that you or the youngest Leclerc boys had were spent in each other's company that summer. By the time school started back up the three of you were inseparable. 
The idea of starting at a new school in a different country while knowing no one scared you, so you were glad to have Arthur with you in class and just knowing Charles was in the building made you feel more at ease. Any worries you had about moving to Monaco had dissipated and Charles had just somehow knew that he had accomplished his mission of making you feel at home. It may have taken him all summer, but you were practically family at this point to him.
So when he heard from Arthur about a couple boys in your class not being the friendliest towards you, something about you being an annoying American, he knew he had to defend you.
Charles fortunately had caught them in the act one day. Your cheeks slightly damp and eyes red told Charles it wasn't just them saying you were annoying. You wouldn't tell him what they said to you, but that didn't stop him from telling the boys off. It didn't take much for them to run off, heck Charles could have just stared at them and they probably would have darted, him somewhat forgetting they were probably only five or six, but still there was no reason for them to be mean to you.
Charles wiped away your tears before pulling you in for a hug. "They shouldn't bother you anymore, but if they ever do come tell me. You know you've always got me and Arthur and if it gets bad enough I guess we could tell Lorenzo." The mention of the oldest Leclerc boy made you giggle and Charles was so happy to see a smile on your face again. "You've always got me Y/N, we've got each other. I promise." He held out his pinky finger towards you and you hooked yours around his, officially sealing the promise
And from that moment on, you two always did have each other.
 ten and thirteen
Five years had passed since you first met Charles, and in those five years your bond only grew stronger. Not only with each other, but with each other's families too. To Pascale you were the daughter she always wanted and your Dad treated the Leclerc boys like his sons. It was like you guys filled in the missing pieces in each other's families.
Multiple scrapbooks were filled over the years with memories that would last a lifetime. Pictures of the joint family vacations that were taken every year, first and last day of school pictures, birthdays, and major milestones all filled the pages.
Looking back now your Mom could have kicked herself for ever second guessing the decision to move. Clearly this was where you guys were supposed to be, where you were supposed to be. Everything just felt right. It felt like home.
A new thing that had become a part of your life in the past five years was karting. No, you didn't drive them, but Charles and Arthur did. So, that meant it was now a part of you. Multiple weekends were spent going to watch them race, the smell of exhaust and the sound of the engines were ingrained into your brain, but you had grown fond of it.
Although, in the last couple years Charles had started to take karting very seriously. You knew his dream was to be an F1 driver, and you knew (from him teaching you everything about it one day) how much dedication it took from a young age to get to the top. So, over the last year, when almost every weekend he was busy, you tried not to take it to heart.
Unfortunately for Arthur, this year his family had decided to focus solely on Charles' career for the time being, as karting was expensive, and having two boys doing it was just not something they could swing. But with Charles busy and Arthur now free it was almost like the boys had flip flopped positions in your life.
Between the two youngest Leclerc boys it was always very obvious that you gravitated more towards Charles, the two of you having a bond that many didn't understand, especially considering your age gap.
Three years isn't crazy per say, but at the age you two are right now it's a little different. Charles is thirteen, officially a teenager, while you're still only ten. Two very different stages in kids' lives, and sometimes recently it seemed like Charles was moving on, or growing up, and you worried that he wouldn't want to spend time with you anymore. Because really what thirteen year old wants to willingly hang out with a ten year old? You know you wouldn't want to hang out with a seven year old. 
But the slight gap that Charles was currently leaving in your life, Arthur had no problem filling it in.
During the school year you spent basically all your time with Arthur, being in the same grade and him not dedicating all his time to karting at the moment was a big contributing factor. You still saw Charles, but nearly as much as you used to. He had moved up to secondary school a year or so ago and unfortunately Arthur and you were still in your last year of primary school. So your time to see Charles was limited to his rare free weekends and sometimes after school. 
You had thought come summer time you would be able to see him more and were banking on your annual family vacation, but you were wrong. In fact, you barely even saw Arthur this summer. They were so busy with Charles karting it was like they didn't even live in their home. And when they were home your family was busy doing something.
The annual family vacation had to be canceled and you had basically gone the whole summer without seeing them. That was until today, two weeks before school started, when you came downstairs to see Charles and Arthur sitting on your couch talking to your Dad, who was sitting in a chair opposite of them.
"Ah, there she is." Your Dad had spotted you from the doorway. "They've come to steal you."
Rounding the side of the couch you were now stood in front of the two boys. Arthur was the first to jump up from the couch, his arms squeezing you into him, the two of you slightly swaying back and forth as giggles escaped past your lips. "Tu m'as manqué aussi Arthur."
As Arthur finally let you go your eyes fell on the middle Leclerc boy, who was still sat on the couch. "Charlie." The nickname you had given him that first summer had still stuck around five years later. It fell off your tongue with ease, basically second nature for you at this point. He never minded when you called him that, in fact sometimes he preferred it, but god forbid anyone else call him that.
You could see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, dimples peaking out as he tried to resist it more. As he stood up from the couch he finally let it free, the corners of his eyes crinkled and dimples on full display as he wrapped his arms around you. You noticed you guys weren't almost the same height anymore, your head hit at about his shoulder now. Had he gotten taller since the last time you saw him? There was no way he had grown that much in almost two months, but yet the proof was standing right infront of you.
"Tu m'as manqué." Charles stated as he pulled away from the hug.
"I figured you'd have your kart seat stuck to you when I saw you again."
"Well when that seat becomes an F1 seat, I know who will be the last person I invite to a race."
You wedged yourself between the two brothers on the couch as you rolled your eyes at Charles. "Yeah I won't need an invite because I'll have a permanent paddock pass." You weren't even sure if such a thing as a permanent paddock pass existed, but when Charles makes it into Formula 1, you had better have one.
"No doubt about it." Charles states, which gets him a smile from you in return.
"So what was Papa talking about? You guys are stealing me?"
"We've got something fun planned." Charles had a small smile on his face as he made eye contact with you. And as you stared back at him you noticed something else that had changed in the past two months, his hair. It was shaggy and almost covered his eyes if he didn't have it pushed to the side. You were surprised Pascale hadn't made him cut it yet, or that she hadn't snuck into his room at night and at least trimmed the hair around his face. It was just another sign of how long it had been since you'd seen each other.
You glanced over at your Dad, unsure of what "fun" they had planned, but he was no help. "What is it?"
"It's a surprise." Charles had stood up from the couch, eyes staring back down at you. "Well come on. We don't have all day."
"Be careful! Je t'aime!" Your Dad hollered as the three of you walked out the door.
"Je t'aime aussi!" You hollered back.
The warm sun beat down on you as you walked the familiar streets of Monaco, following the two boys in front of you. Your insistent pleas of wanting to know where you were going were ignored. And it didn't take long for you to just start guessing random places, which were all met with groaned no's from the boys.
Thankfully you guys had arrived at your destination because you were running out of places to name, but the place you were standing in front of was not where you had expected to end up. Though truly you should have known better.
"Did you guys really just bring me here to watch you two drive go-karts?" Of course they brought you to the track. It wasn't like you didn't like watching them race or even just screw around on the karts, but as of recently it was the one thing that was keeping Charles away from you. It just would have been nice to do something that didn't involve karting.
"We aren't the ones who are going to be driving them." Arthur's devious little smile on his face tells you everything you need to know.
"I don't think that's safe, and don't we need an adult with us?" So perhaps you were slightly scared at the idea of driving – no you were actually more worried than scared. You didn't want to seem like an idiot because you didn't know what to do or wreck and make a fool of yourself. That little shy five year old girl was slowly creeping back in as Arthur and Charles practically dragged you inside.
"The adult is already here." Charles points at Lorenzo who's filling out paperwork at the front counter. "I think it's time for you to learn, no?" Your eyes focus on Lorenzo, praying as an adult he has enough sense to not let this happen. But it was no use, he had already handed the worker the paperwork and was walking towards you with a bunch of gear in his hands.
"No chickening out this time petite soeur. Today is the day." Lorenzo stated.
Before you can even protest anymore Lorenzo is handing you all this stuff to put on, arms overflowing as you stare at him wide-eyed. "Do I really need all of this for" you glance over at the track then back at Charles "an indoor track?"
"Safety first Y/N. Plus you need to have the full karting experience." His dimples on display as he gives you a reassuring smile, that somehow works wonders on you, because you're putting on all the gear without him even asking. "Oh wait you're gonna need this." He slides a hair tie off his wrist and hands it over to you. His action put a smile on your face as you quickly tied your hair back.
It was something Charles had done for a couple years now, always having a hair tie on him. You were always pushing your hair out of your face or complaining about it being hot and of course you never had a hair tie with you. So, he just started wearing one on his wrist, so when you eventually needed one, he was there to provide.
With your gear on you guys walked over towards one of the karts and you made sure to listen intently as Charles explained how to work everything.
You slipped the helmet on and sat down in the kart, praying that you could remember what Charles had told you. "You've got this. Just remember what I said and we will be right here if you need us. I’ll be right here. I promise." Charles holds out his pinky finger, the familiar gesture between the two of you meant much more than just a simple promise. And as you hook your finger around his, you know it's going to be okay. "Please be careful. I think your Papa will have my head if you come back with even just a scratch." Lorenzo says as he double checks that you're strapped in well enough.
"I'll be fine."
You gave Charles one last final glance, who stood there giving you a thumbs up, before pressing your foot down on the accelerator. At first you were going so slow, scared that if you went too fast you were gonna wreck. But as you completed a couple laps you started to feel more comfortable and the cheers from the boys helped you out too.
"Floor it!" Arthur yells as you pass by on another lap.
You were really starting to have fun, so you listened to Arthur and pressed the pedal all the way down on the next straightaway. You felt like you were flying, but what you didn't know was that they had put you in the slowest kart, so you really weren't going as fast as you thought you were.
After a couple more laps Charles stood by the starting line, waving the checkered flag, a cheesy grin on his face as you passed by him. As the kart came to a stop you understood why they loved karting so much, it wasn't just fun, it was exhilarating, addicting, you already wanted to go again.
The boys surrounded the kart as you undid the straps and climbed out. As you took off the helmet you couldn't wipe the grin off your face. "Looks like you might have some competition Charles." Lorenzo teases.
Charles ignored his big brother's teasing and shifted his focus back to you. He had felt bad about not seeing you all summer and in all honesty not that much over this past year. But things in his life were changing, karting was becoming a much bigger deal, and he was winning, like a lot. He knew things were only going to go up from here. And as much as he loved racing, and god did he love it, he breathed it he dreamt it, racing was in his blood. There just weren't many times anymore where he felt like a thirteen year old, like a kid. It sometimes felt like he was missing out on things.
But Charles knew that when he came home from a busy weekend or practically a whole summer filled with racing, that things would always be the same at home. His Mom would always make spaghetti on Tuesday nights, you had to jiggle the handle on the gate to the backyard to get it to open, if you went into the ice cream shop on a Thursday night when the owner wasn't there you'd get extra ice cream, the lady across the street will yell at your for playing in the street, and you will always be a couple houses down. 
He knew that when he was around you that he could feel like a kid again. Sure, he had made plenty of friends through racing, but it seemed like all their conversations always somehow revolved or ended up referring to racing. Which wasn't a bad thing, because of course Charles loved racing. But sometimes he just wanted to talk about video games or other sports, or just something random. And he could do that with you.
Now granted, for someone who wanted to have a little break from racing before school started, you'd think he wouldn't be back at a track the first chance he got. But Charles had wanted to teach you how to kart for years, but each time he had mentioned it you chickened out. So he had finally gotten the nerve, with a little help from Lorenzo and Arthur, to just force you to learn.
He knew you'd do a good job, he never had a doubt. It was just your worries that prevented you from learning earlier. He knew you had grown to love the sport, from tagging along to some of his races, or how you can't wait for the Monaco grand prix every year, not to mention how glued you are to the TV when his free weekends and the F1 schedule line up. So, somehow in his own weird way, Charles knew you'd be a natural.
"You did do a good job, I'm proud of you." Charles flashes you a smile as you guys exit the track.
"Merci Charlie." You quickly shed all the gear and handed it back to Lorenzo. "I don't know why you guys didn't teach me earlier. That was so much fun. I see why you guys love it so much."
"Don't act like we haven't tried for years to get you to learn." Charles teases. "We basically just had to force you today."
Memories of all the past failed attempts at teaching you how to kart flooded your mind. The one time you hid in the bathroom claiming to be throwing up, the time you 'tripped' on your way into the building and said you sprained your ankle, or the many times you just flat out refused. So maybe them forcing you was for the better, because you wouldn't have taken the initiative on your own to learn.
"Whatever. At least I finally learned."
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The walk back to your house was filled with Charles filling you in on his exciting karting filled summer. From the new friends he had made to the races he had won, he didn't spare any detail. And you just walked beside him, listening to his every word, grateful to just have him back around. Arthur would pipe in occasionally to contradict something Charles had said, fulfilling his little brother duties. And as the three of you traveled through the principality, the summer sun high in the sky, you wished every day could be like this.
The fragrant jasmine shrubs that lined the sidewalk told you guys that you were close to home. "You guys wanna stay for dinner? It's Friday which means Mom's making something pasta related."
Charles would never turn down a Friday night dinner at your house and so he had no trouble in accepting your invitation. Arthur declined, stating that he was going to hang out with some of his other friends, and Lorenzo had split from you guys at the track. Which meant it was just Charles and you, which was fine with you.
The smell of your Mom's famous red sauce, that she swore had to cook for at least half the day, filled your nostrils as you walked through the door. "Mom! Papa! I’m home!"
"In the kitchen!" You heard your Mom shout.
You found your Mom furiously stirring something on the stove as Charles and you sat at the island counter directly in front of her. She tore her attention away from her cooking just long enough to notice Charles was with you. "Well look who's back! I hope you're staying for dinner?" A big smile accompanied her words as she spoke to Charles.
"Of course, you know I love Friday pasta nights."
"Well it's still gonna be a little bit until everything is ready, so if you kids are hungry grab a little snack or something." Her attention was already back to the bubbling pot in front of her before she had finished speaking.
Charles' stomach had been growling the whole walk home, and now sitting here smelling your Mom's cooking had it growling even more. So, he took up her offer and grabbed two tangerines from the bowl of fruit on the counter. Without even thinking about it, he peeled the first one and handed it over to you.
"You're spoiling her by peeling that for her Charles." Your Dad stated as he walked into the kitchen.
Charles shrugged at your Dad's comment as he continued to peel his own tangerine. "I don't mind it. I know she doesn't like to peel them and it's really not a big deal to me. So I guess as long as I'm around she won't have to."
You never gave a second thought about Charles peeling your fruit for you. He's done it ever since you expressed your dislike for peeling them years ago. To you it wasn't you being spoiled, it was just your best friend doing something nice for you. You gave Charles a smile as you popped another piece of the tangerine in your mouth. "Merci Charles." As you looked back towards your parents, you caught them staring at each other, eyebrows slightly raised, and smiles on their faces. "What?" You questioned.
"Oh nothing sweetie." Your Mom answered, attention turning back to the food. She knew you'd figure it out eventually.
The topic of conversation during dinner was all about karting. Your parents wanted to know all about Charles' wins and if anything exciting had happened during any of his races. Charles truly was like a son to them, granted all three of the Leclerc boys were, but you knew Charles was their favorite. They sat there listening intently as he told them everything and your Dad gave him nothing but praises back.
"You're gonna do great things Charles. I just know it."
And finally when Charles changed the conversation to how he finally taught you how to kart, your Dad though first worried at the idea of you getting hurt, was ecstatic to hear that you were quite good and that you enjoyed it. Your Mom didn't like the idea at all, the sour look on her face told you everything. "I can barely handle watching Charles, let alone my baby."
"I was the only one on the track, Mom. Plus it was just for fun, you don't have to worry about me doing the real thing. I really was not as good as Charles says I was." You tried to reassure her, but she still didn't seem pleased.
"Maybe it will help to know that we put her in the slowest kart." Charles chimed in.
Your head whipped to the right of you, where Charles was sat. "You put me in the slowest one?! You really thought I’d be that bad?"
"It was your first time! You were nervous as is, let alone putting you in a fast one."
A scoff came from you. "I feel cheated out of a real experience."
"Well, the slowest is fine with me. In fact, how do we find one slower than the slowest?" Your Mom inquired, nothing shy of a serious look on her face.
As dinner came to an end Charles and you helped clean up and then ventured out back. The sun had just set, allowing for dusk to settle in, the remnants of the sunset still lingering in the sky. The two of you found yourselves on familiar territory, the swings. The metal chains had slightly rusted over the years, but still held strong as the two of you swayed back and forth on them.
Silence fell between the two of you as you tried to figure out how to talk to Charles about the thing that had been subconsciously bothering you for a while. 
Him forgetting about you. 
He had his head down, staring at his feet as he slowly swung back and forth on the swing. "Charles?" He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, blue eyes slightly covered by his shaggy hair.
"Yeah?"
Your hands gripped the chains tighter as you stilled your movements, feet planted firmly in the worn patch of grass. "I need you to make me a promise."
He had copied your actions, even going as far as turning slightly to face you as he spoke. "For what?"
"I need you to promise that you won't forget about me. That when you make it into F1 and become super famous that you won't think I'm some loser. Or even when you move up to F3, just please promise me you won't forget about me."
Charles frowned at your words, never in a million years would he forget about you, or think you were a loser. He didn't want to get into F1 to become famous, yeah it was a perk of the job, but he wanted a seat in F1 because he loved racing, and it meant that he was one of the best in the world.
He held out his pinky finger towards you. "Do you remember what I said to you when those boys were teasing you during your first year here?" You shook your head, the memory replaying in your mind. "That you’ve always got me and I’ve always got you. So that means I don't think I could ever forget about you Y/N, whether I make it into F1 or not. And If I do, I'm gonna need my number one supporter there by my side aren't I? So I promise I won’t forget you."
A big smile spread across your face at his words and as you hooked your pinky finger around his, you knew the promise was true.
But what you didn't know was that sometimes promises are broken.
thirteen and sixteen
Thirteen is a very weird year for you. 
It’s not puberty or the ever revolving drama that comes with being thirteen that is making it a weird year. It’s the embarrassingly painful crush you’ve got on Charles. 
It’s a cliche really, having a crush on the cute older boy you’ve grown up with. 
And one might ask why is it embarrassing? For starters, you can’t be around him for more than five minutes without turning into a blushing mess. He stares at you for longer than a second? Game over. He smiles at you? Done for. He laughs at something you said? You’re dead. 
He doesn’t know he’s turning your thirteen year old brain into mush just by simply existing and it’s embarrassing to even think about him knowing that. 
On the other hand, it’s painful. You’re thirteen and he’s sixteen, once again at very different stages in life. And you know that he doesn’t like you back, that he only sees you as a little sister, but it still hurts. It hurts because you’re thirteen and you think that you’re mature for your age and you honestly think why wouldn’t he like you back. It’s something almost every young girl goes through, and unfortunately it’s happening to you with someone you are very close with. 
Yes, you had always thought he was cute, but that's because he was. That fluffy brown hair, long thick eyelashes that adorned his pretty eyes, his dimples, the little crinkles by his eyes when he smiled. Okay– so maybe that's how you would describe him now, but still, he was a cute kid also, there was no denying that. 
 But if you really had to figure out when you realized you had a crush on Charles it had to have been this past Christmas.   
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The holidays in Monaco were somewhat different than the few years you remembered back in America. You had stopped celebrating Thanksgiving after your Mom’s failed attempt at trying to make a Thanksgiving dinner your first year here. It wasn’t that your Mom was a bad cook, it was that it was somewhat hard to find everything needed for a Thanksgiving dinner in Monaco. And as hard as your Mom tried to make it work, it just wasn’t the same without that damn Ocean Spray cranberry sauce. 
So to make up for not celebrating Thanksgiving your family truly went all out for Christmas. The couple Christmases that you could remember back in America were nothing shy of magical, but ever since moving to Monaco, your family took Christmas very seriously. There was no denying that part of your household was American, because every year your house looked like it came straight out of a cult classic Christmas movie. Like Kevin McCallister or Clark Griswold had taken up residence in Monaco for the holidays. 
It wasn’t just the outside that was decorated, the inside was just as festive and of course the tree was the main focal point. It was a busy tree, your Mom never liked an aesthetically pleasing tree, it was sentimental or nothing to her. Ornaments that were passed down on her side of the family, ones you had made in school, and some you had gotten after moving all had a home on the tree. 
And as if decorating wasn’t enough for your family, your traditions were even more of a big deal. The most important one to you though was making cookies on Christmas Eve. Mainly because Arthur and Charles had been doing it with you since your first Christmas in Monaco. 
Christmas music played on the record player in the living room, the sound traveling into the kitchen as your Mom and you made sure you had everything ready to bake. You were in your own little world, picking out your favorite cookie cutters and humming along to Wham!’s Last Christmas when you heard your Mom speak up. “You’re just in time Charles.” 
Your eyes moved away from the pile of cookie cutters up to the garland decorated doorway where Charles was standing. A smile slowly crept its way onto your face as the two of you made eye contact. He looked cozy, the sweater he had on was slightly oversized and his hair had a messy fluffy look to it. 
You watched as he talked to your Mom, she was surely talking to him about racing, and he would always gladly answer her questions, as she was nothing shy of a second Mom to him. The longer you stared at him, you could feel your heartbeat quickening. And a feeling was arising in you that you had only ever experienced with a boy in your class a year or so ago.  Though, the feeling didn’t last long, you had caught him picking his nose, and with that went away any feelings you had towards him. 
You didn’t even want to think about the word that was happening right now, the idea of it only making your heart race even faster. You tore your eyes away from Charles and noticed that the youngest Leclerc brother was missing, so you blamed your rapid heart beat and surely pink cheeks on that.
You cleared your throat and tried to gather yourself before speaking. “Where’s Arthur?” 
Charles' attention was torn away from your Mom over to you. He pursed his lips, he didn’t know how to say nicely that Arthur said that baking Christmas cookies was for little kids, and he wasn’t a little kid anymore. He let out a sigh before speaking. “He’s not coming, he said he’s too old to be baking cookies.”
“But its-” 
“I know. I told him that it’s tradition and that you would be upset, but he wasn’t budging. So you’re stuck with just me.” 
It annoyed you that Arthur had bailed on you. There was no such thing as being too old to bake cookies, he was just being a jerk. And as far as you were concerned, he’s not allowed any of the cookies when your families have Christmas together tomorrow evening. 
On the bright side you get to have some one on one time with Charles, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise– Arthur bailing on you. You picked up the recipe card from the counter, waving it around in the air. “Well let’s get to work then.” 
Charles is at your side in an instant, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater as he waits for further instruction. 
“Do you think you kids can handle doing it by yourselves this year? I’ve got some last minute gifts that need to be wrapped.” Your Mom inquired, hopeful that you wouldn’t burn the house down on Christmas Eve. 
You didn’t even look up at her, eyes focused on the recipe in front of you, this was clearly something you took seriously. “Yes Mom.” 
Without a word she was gone, leaving Charles and you to your own devices. 
You can feel Charles peering over your shoulder. He’s practically right up against your side and you can feel the soft material of his sweater on your arm. All you can smell is his cologne, something he had started to use within the last year or two, thankfully moving on from the Axe body spray phase. And you’re trying not to make this seem like a big deal, because it’s truly not, but something has shifted in your thirteen year old brain. The same brain being scrambled by him right now, and you think you’ve read the damn recipe card at least ten times now. 
“Did you forget that the recipe is in American measuring terms?” Charles asks. The recipe was your Grandma’s and your Mom had never been bothered to convert it to the metric system. 
“Nope, just double checking everything.” You force a smile as you set down the recipe card and grab a mixing bowl. You added all the ingredients and made Charles do all the labor, which meant he had to mix it and then roll out the dough. 
You dug through the pile of cookie cutters looking for Charles favorite one. “Herree it isss.” You spoke in a sing songy voice as you held up the cookie cutter to Charles. His favorite in question? A penguin with a Santa hat on. Without fail, every Christmas, for the past eight years. Charles made an excessive amount of Santa hat penguin cookies. 
A grin spread across his face as you placed it in his hand. “Wouldn’t be Christmas without this guy.” He wasted no time in pressing the cutter down into the dough and before you guys knew it the first batch was done and in the oven. 
As you started on the next batch Charles kept a close eye on the baking cookies. The two of you allowed for Michael Buble to fill silence in the air and the mouthwatering smell of the cookies soon filled your nostrils. “You know you still call her Mom?”
Your eyebrows furrowed at Charles' random statement. “Huh?” 
He walked away from the oven and back to his original spot next to you. “You still call your Maman Mom.” 
“Yes?” You weren’t really sure where he was going with this, it was nothing new to either of you. 
“I just figured by now you would have made the switch. You speak French with everyone else.” 
You shrugged your shoulders at him, you had never really considered it, the idea felt weird even just thinking about it now. “I’ve always spoken English with my Mom and French with Papa. It would feel weird to switch stuff around now.” You stirred in the flour as you continued the conversation. “You know I could give you some English lessons if you’d like. I think that might have been what you were hinting at.” You teased. 
Charles' eyes widened at your words. “Are you saying my English is not good? I think I speak English very good!” 
“Well.” You didn’t skip a beat. 
“What?” 
“You think you speak English very w-” 
In an instant there is flour all over the upper part of your body, your movements stilled as you’re processing what Charles had just done. You’re mad at first, actually seething because your hair looked so good today and now it’s covered in flour. And you can’t see Charles because you haven’t moved an inch since he threw the flour at you, but he went from having a shit eating grin on his face to a oh shit expression. Your quietness has him worried that you’re actually really pissed at him, but when he hears his nickname come past your lips he knows you're not that mad at him. 
“Charlie. You better run.” 
He isn’t sure he’s heard you right, but when he sees you pick up the whole bag of flour his sock clad feet are sliding on the floor as he runs around the other side of the kitchen island. You're playing cat and mouse around the island for quite some time. The beeping from the oven time ignored multiple times as giggles from both of you filled the room. 
As Charles rounds the corner again his foot catches on one of the barstool legs and you know you’ve finally got him. He doesn’t fall, but he slips just enough to allow you to fully catch up to him. And you may or may not have thrown the whole bag of flour at him, but him being covered head to toe in flour says it was the whole bag. You definitely got him 10x worse than he did you and from that gleam in his eye you know what he’s going to do, but you can’t get away fast enough and his arms are around you in an instant. He shakes his head trying to get as much of the flour off of him and onto you and by you trying to free yourself from his grip he’s transferred a good amount from his clothes onto yours. “Charles! Let me go!” Your pleas are pitiful, laughter dripping off every word. 
“Oh my god!” 
Both of your eyes widen, bodies frozen at the sound of your Mom’s less than pleased voice. The two of you sheepishly stood there as your Mom looks like she’s about ready to cry and cuss you out at the same time. “I can’t leave you two alone for an hour?!” Her eyes shift to behind the two of you, panic written across her face. She’s practically running towards the oven and that’s when you realize the burning smell. And when she not so softly sets the cookie sheet onto the counter you know she’s really not happy. The cookies were burnt to a crisp, the poor Santa hat penguin never stood a chance. “I’m sorry Y/M/N. It was my fault, I started it.” Charles rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 
“I don’t care who started it because you’re both cleaning up this mess.” A deep sigh came from you Mom as she really took in just how big of a mess the two of you had made, her head shaking in disapproval as she left the two of you to clean up. 
When you knew she was out of earshot you couldn’t but let out a little giggle, it was like in school when you weren’t supposed to be laughing, but everything is just so funny, and Charles follows your actions seconds later. The two of you fools, covered in flour, cookies burnt, and in trouble as you stood there laughing. 
That night you couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in your bed, your brain would not shut off. And it wasn’t because you were excited for Christmas morning, you only wished that was the reason. You couldn’t get how good it felt to have Charles arms wrapped around you out of your mind, or how that stupid sweater made him look even more attractive than he already was. 
As you stared up at the ceiling, you knew you were screwed. You had a big fat crush on Charles and it was going to ruin your life. You knew he only saw you as a little sister and that made everything so much more worse to you. Why did you have to develop feelings for him of all people? 
Christmas morning came and went and before you knew it evening had arrived, meaning the Leclerc’s would be arriving soon. You were in charge of setting the table, a task you didn’t mind, considering being in the kitchen with your Mom on any holiday was like asking to get yelled at. As you folded the last napkin neatly and placed it in its rightful spot you heard commotion coming from the front door, undoubtedly the Leclerc’s arriving. You spotted Pascale struggling to juggle all the presents and you hurried towards her, quick to offer a hand. “Merci chéri.” A grateful smile painted across her face.
The pile of presents grows as you place them under the tree and you’d think your family hadn’t already opened some this morning. Everyone settles into their usual spots in the living room, but your usual spot by Charles is left empty, as you’ve scurried into the kitchen. You’d rather face the unwarranted wrath from your Mom than be unable to compose yourself around Charles. But you don’t get to hide in the kitchen for very long because she’s practically done with everything, so you help her bring in all the food to the table, and admire your table setting skills as you do so. 
Dinner is pretty uneventful and luckily your Dad has Charles preoccupied with racing talk for most of the time. But you can’t help but catch his eye from across the table every once in a while and every time you do your heart skips a beat. By the time presents start getting passed around you had successfully avoided Charles for most of the day, but that is ruined when he plops down next to you on the floor, shoulders brushing as he gets situated. 
“Are you mad at me for yesterday?” Charles' voice is low, like he didn’t want anyone to hear, but he could have talked at full volume, no one would have heard him over how loud your Dads were being. 
You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why would I be mad at you?” 
“You’ve been avoiding me all day.” 
Your fingers toyed with the lifted corner of wrapping paper on the present in front of you, your brain trying to figure out what to say. Yes, you had been avoiding him, but it wasn’t because you were mad. It was actually the opposite, but you couldn’t tell him that. “I’m not mad at you. Just didn’t want there to be another flour fiasco today. You thought she was mad yesterday, now imagine that while she’s in her holiday cooking zone.” You give him a reassuring smile, hoping that he’s bought what you’ve told him. But he doesn’t get the chance to respond as your Mom’s voice fills the room. 
“Ok does everyone have all their presents? Our Santa this year was less than enthusiastic about handing out the presents.” Your Mom shoots Arthur a look as he sits down on the floor across from Charles and you. 
“There is nothing left under the tree. I promise.” Arthur states. 
“Alright then everyone get after it!” 
Piles of wrapping paper fill the empty spots on the floor in no time and excited gasps fill the room as everyone unwraps their gifts. You’re always so grateful for everything the Leclerc’s get you for Christmas, they treat you like one of their own, and sometimes you feel they spoil you a little too much. 
With each present that you unwrapped that wasn’t from Charles, you start to get a little worried. You guys exchanged presents every year and if he didn’t get you something this year, you think you might die. So when you come to your last present and it says it’s from his parents, you try to hide your disappointment, especially because it’s an amazing gift. You hop up from your spot on the floor and make sure to go thank them personally, hugs and all. And you’re pretty sure you hear them say something about how you’re their daughter too and how you deserve it, but your brain is still thinking about how Charles didn’t get you anything. 
When you go back to your spot a little perfectly wrapped box with a bow on it is sitting there. You know you weren’t sitting on that, so it had to be placed there after you got up. You think it’s one of Charles that he forgot about, but when you bend over to pick it up you see Charles sloppy handwriting on it. A smile spreads across your face as you look over at Charles who has an equally big one on his. You quickly sit down, eager to know what’s inside. 
“Did you think I didn’t get you anything?” Charles questions, a smirk toying at his lips. 
“Maybe.” Yes. 
“I would never.” He bumps his shoulder into yours, motioning for you to open it. “Well, go on. What are you waiting for?” 
You don’t want to seem like you're absolutely ripping into the present, but it probably looks like you are. It’s a tiny box, like one used for jewelry, and you really aren’t expecting Charles to have gotten you jewelry. But when you open the box, nestled in the velvet cushion, is a ring. You glance over at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then back to the ring. It’s just a simple sterling silver ring and somewhat on the smaller side. To be honest Charles could have gotten you a bag of candy and you would have been happy to have just gotten something from him, let alone a ring. 
But when you pick the ring up from the box you see exactly why it’s smaller, and it makes your heart swell. On the inside of the ring you see the words pinky promise engraved into it and as you look over at Charles, he’s holding out his pinky finger, a matching ring adorning it. Your cheeks are hurting from how hard you're smiling, but you don’t care. It’s the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever gotten you and as you slide it onto your pinky finger you feel yourself smiling even more, if that’s possible. Your arms are around Charles instantly, pulling him in towards you, thank you’s tumbling out of your mouth as he giggles in response. 
“I’m glad you like it.” He pauses, trying to figure out the right words to say. “Things are changing. I’m moving up from karting and hopefully into Formula 3 within the next year. It’s just a reminder that we’ve always got each other, even if I’m gone racing or you’re off doing something, we can look at the rings and know we’ve got a piece of each other with us, always.” 
You can’t stop smiling at him, and that crush you’ve got has tripled in size in a few short hours. Your teenage brain over exaggerates everything and you basically think this means you’re gonna be together forever, even though you aren’t even together. 
While you’re in make believe land, your parents are observing the two of you. Whispers and knowing glances are exchanged, between them and your Moms can’t help but think it’s cute how close the two of you are. While your Dad in particular, no matter how he feels about Charles, thinks no boy is good enough for his little girl, let alone some sixteen year old boy. 
Perhaps you may be a little dramatic when you say that this Christmas was the best one you’d had so far, but honestly it was the truth. Sure you realized you had a huge crush on Charles that will probably end in tears, but you also got the most thoughtful gift ever, that you will cherish forever. So yeah, this was a good Christmas, crush aside. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
And so you lived with admiring Charles from afar for months. Enjoying what time you got together and just holding out hope that maybe one day he wouldn’t see you as his little sister. But life had a funny way of hitting you in the face with reality, especially at thirteen. 
When Charles shows up to a joint family dinner one night with a girl around his arm you feel like all the air has escaped your lungs. And when he introduces her to everyone as his girlfriend you plaster on a smile even though you feel like someone has pulled your heart out of your chest and ran it over multiple times.
It’s the longest dinner of your life and while everyone gushes over his girlfriend, asking her all about her life and interests, you poke your food around with your fork. It’s not like you have an appetite anyways, getting your heart broken will do that to you. And it sucks even more because she’s so nice, like insanely nice, you couldn’t even hate her if you wanted to. Not to mention how pretty she was, she was everything, and you were some pimple faced, awkward bodied thirteen year old. 
You fidget with the ring on your finger and your heart races at the idea of Charles not wearing his anymore, your eyes glance over at him and when you spot the ring still on his finger it calms you a little. But that still means nothing, just that he clearly still sees you as a little sister. What you don’t see is how your Mom has been watching you the whole night. You’ve never told her about your feelings towards Charles, but she’s your Mom, she just knows things. And she knows you're hurting right now, so when she changes the topic of conversation at the table you’re eternally grateful. 
It’s an early night for you that night, not bothering to join everyone for a game of UNO, claiming that you aren’t feeling well. When really you couldn’t wait to go upstairs and just cry it out. What did you do to deserve something like this? It hurt so bad, but you knew there was nothing you could do about it. And as you laid in bed that night all you could think about was how are you going to live without him liking you back?
sixteen and nineteen
Newsflash you do live without Charles liking you back. In fact your crush goes away by the end of that year, no thanks to the new boy in your grade, who eventually ends up being your boyfriend. But it was safe to say you were over Charles, at least you think you are. 
Charles, on the other hand, stayed with the girl who made you go crazy at age thirteen for over a year, but they broke up over text. And to your disappointment, Charles never told you the reason why. Ever since then it’s been somewhat of a revolving door of girls in Charles' life. Okay – maybe not a revolving door, but at least three different girls in the past two years. None of them lasted for more than a couple months though, and it was getting to the point where no one in either of your families got to know the girls.
Everyone knew that they would be gone sooner than later. After his last “breakup” a couple months ago, he hadn’t brought around a new one, he claimed that he needed to focus on racing, that F1 seat was almost in his grasp and that was all that mattered to him right now, but you knew there was something else going on. 
While Charles was having issues in the relationship department, you were actually flourishing. You had met your now boyfriend Lucas, when he was the new kid your eighth grade year. You thought he was cute from the moment he walked into your History class the first day back from winter break. And when the seat next to you was the only open desk you tried to hide your excitement as he sat down, but when he smiled at you first, it was hard to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks. He was the first to speak, asking if you had a pencil. But his accent made your ears perk up – he was Spanish. The big brown doe eyes and dark hair fit him, now that you realized he was Spanish. 
“Do all Spaniards come unprepared on their first day?” You teased as you handed him a pencil. It was his turn to be the one blushing as he stifled a smile. 
“No, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.” 
So he was a flirt – noted. 
The two of you became good friends rather quickly, but per your parents rules, you couldn’t date until you were fifteen. So, you played the long game and prayed that no one else peaked his interest. Luckily for you, he was so infatuated with you that he was willing to wait, and on your fifteenth birthday you went on your first date. He was nothing shy of a gentleman, even going as far as asking your parents permission to take you out, something your Dad was very fond of. And as your parents watched their little girl walk out the door hand in hand with a boy, they couldn’t help but feel a little sad. 
“Our little girl is growing up.” 
Your Mom wrapped a comforting arm around your Dad. “I know. I’m glad though, I figured she would waste her teenage years waiting on Charles.” 
A questioning look washed across your Dad’s face. “What?” 
“Oh honey. Don’t act like you’ve been blind these past ten years. They’ve always been drawn to each other, her more than him. She was absolutely heartbroken when he brought his first girlfriend to dinner that one time.” 
“Guess I do remember being less than thrilled at Charles getting her that ring for Christmas that one year.” Your Dad huffed. 
“Hmm,” she rests her head on his shoulder, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his abdomen as they still stand there, staring at the door. “You know Pascale has always said that Y/N would end up with Charles.” 
Your Dad scoffs at your Mom’s words. “And what do you think of that?” 
“I think only time will tell.” 
While your parents were discussing your love life back at home, you were having a grand time on your date. The pizza place Lucas had taken you to was cute, a fitting place for two fifteen year olds to be on a first date. Thankfully it wasn’t awkward or tense, and you had to thank the two of you for being friends for a year before your date for that. It was just like the two of you hanging out. 
On the walk back to your house your hands never separate, even when they start to become sweaty. And when he pulls you closer to him, so you're basically hugging his arm, you realize you could get used to this.The way his brown eyes look like pools of honey when the sun hits them just right as he looks down at you, the feeling of his thumb gently rubbing circles on your hand, and the way your name rolls of his tongue when he talks to you, especially with that accent of his. All of it has that all too familiar warm fuzzy feeling appearing in your stomach. 
When he stops in front of the ice cream shop near your house he doesn’t even have to ask you if you want any, you’re already dragging him towards the entrance. The little bell on the door rings as the two of you walk inside and the all too familiar sugary sweet smell hits your nostrils. 
“Ah! Chérie!” 
The owner Mr. Martin – a short older man, probably in his sixties, with what you would call haystacks for eyebrows was beaming at you from behind the counter. He had grown fond of you and the Leclerc boys over the years, claiming that he loved seeing the three of you grow up, as he never had any grandchildren of his own. Though, when his eyes shifted to the right and saw Lucas standing next to you his smile fell briefly, if you hadn’t been staring at him you wouldn’t have caught it. 
“Who is this handsome young man?” He asks as the two of you walk towards him.. 
You introduce Lucas to Mr. Martin and it’s at that moment that you realize that this is the first time you’ve brought him here. Something that didn’t seem possible to you because you were here so often that you had to have brought Lucas here at least once, but you can’t recall a time. 
Only when a vanilla cone is in front of your face are you brought out of your thoughts. Of course Mr. Martin didn’t need to ask you what you wanted, it’s been the same thing every time for the past ten years. Lucas had already sat down at one of the little tables, chocolate cone in hand, while he waited for you. 
“I was surprised to see you with a boy other than Charles.” Mr. Martin states as he wipes down the counter. “He must be special because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here with anyone other than your family or Charles.” 
His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Yes, this was your first time you had brought Lucas here, but you know you’ve brought other friends here. There was no way in your ten years here that you hadn’t, but once again your mind was drawing a blank. As you glance back over at Lucas a knot forms in your stomach, it suddenly feels wrong to have brought him here. Like in some way you were tainting this place with his presence. Ruining whatever special hold this place has on your relationship with your family– with Charles. 
You completely ignore Mr. Martin’s statements and just give him a smile and thanks before making up an excuse as to why Lucas and you need to leave. He doesn’t take much convincing when you claim to want to see the sunset. His hand is back in yours as you hear the bell ring once more as the two of you leave. And it’s like as soon as you guys are back on the sidewalk walking towards your house, the gut wrenching feeling is gone. The only evidence of it is left in the ice cream and by the time you’re standing on your front porch step it’s all gone. 
Lucas has a lopsided grin on his face, one you’ve grown to love, as the two of you stand facing each other. “You know we are missing the sunset you wanted to see.” His fingers lightly toy with yours, before finally intertwining them again.
“Mmh. It’s okay.” You were getting lost in those big brown eyes of his, the sunset the last thing on your mind. 
“I’d rather stare at you anyways, you’re much prettier.” 
His words make you practically putty in his hands and before you know it you’re having your first kiss. It’s sweet, metaphorically and literally, the taste of ice cream still on both of your lips. His hand cups your cheek and you have to wonder if he’s done this before. But when he pulls away he only has you craving more, so you lean up and steal on more from him. Giggles escaping past your lips as you see the light blush on his cheeks, you were sure yours were bright red. “Guess this is where I ask you to be my girlfriend huh? Not like I’ve been obsessed with you since my first day of school, been waiting all year or anything.” 
You raise an eyebrow at him with a smirk on your face. “Are you going to properly ask me?” 
By the end of the night when you’re laying in bed, you had officially gone on your first date, had your first kiss, and obtained a boyfriend all in a matter of hours that day. You were a giddy mess, excitement coursed through your veins, and you couldn’t help but repeatedly feel your lips, the feeling of Lucas’ still fresh in your mind the whole night. You couldn’t wait to feel them on yours again. And when he texts you that he wants to hang out tomorrow you think your heart just might leap out of your chest. 
Being with Lucas was like living on cloud nine, you truly couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. As the year progressed you really wondered how you had snagged someone like him– tall, dark, and handsome. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, and he made you feel like it too, until he didn’t.
That’s the funny thing about first loves, you really think nothing could ever come between you, that it’s going to last forever. But the only thing that lasts forever is the damage they leave when they’re gone. 
You aren’t really sure what switched in Lucas, but after a year of being together he turned into someone who was never happy with what you did, always picking fights over stupid little things. And you know you should have left him already, but you love him, and you think you guys can make it work. You’re only sixteen and your Mom tells you relationships shouldn’t be like this at this age, shouldn’t be mentally draining, but unfortunately this one is. 
All your arguments as of lately had been about Charles. Lucas, though denying it every time you brought it up, had become jealous of him. You weren’t even sure where the jealousy had come from, you barely saw Charles like you used to. He was in F2 on the cusp of getting that F1 seat and you were busy with school and spending time with Lucas. You had even gone as far as rejecting invites to hang out with your other friends to spend time with Lucas, something now you regret very deeply. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
It’s a chilly Friday night in February when everything comes crashing down. The argument started over Charles texting you asking if you wanted to hang out. You were already with Lucas, but you hadn’t seen Charles in a couple weeks and you knew once the season started seeing him would be even more scarce. So, you make the big mistake of asking Lucas if he wanted to hang out with Charles. 
“Why would I want to hang out with him?” His back was turned to you, but you already knew from his tone that this was going to turn into an argument. 
“Well I haven’t seen him in awhile and he texted me asking to hang out, I thought we all could hang out.” You thought maybe by including Lucas in the plans that it would make the situation better. Wrong. 
He turns to face you, walking towards your bed where you’re currently sat. “Did he mention me in the text?” 
“Well no but-” 
“Exactly,” Lucas scoffs at you, his expression sour as he looms over you. “He doesn’t want me to come. I would get in his way.” 
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, Charles was not the guy Lucas made him out to be. “Don’t know what you mean by you getting in his way.” 
“Oh don’t act cute about it Y/N.” Hearing your name roll off his tongue no longer sounded like music to your ears, it now more resembled nails on a chalkboard, like each time he spoke your name it was venom coming out his mouth. “Bet if I gave him the chance he’d try to get in your pants at the first opportunity.” 
Your eyes widened, cheeks getting hot at his accusations. “What kind of girl do you think I am Lucas?” 
“All I’m saying is your friendship with him isn’t normal, and it makes a guy wonder.” 
You were up off of your bed now, the two of you standing in the middle of your room. “This is getting old. I’ve told you, you have nothing to be jealous of.” You had started to twist the ring on your pinky finger, a nervous habit you had developed over the past couple years. 
“That is why your friendship isn’t normal.” Lucas grabs your hand, his fingers twisting at the ring trying to pull it off your finger. “What kind of girl wears a ring another guy got her while in a relationship? Huh? Even worse that you’ve got matching ones.”
Yanking your hand free from his grasp you can feel your blood starting to boil, and you’re thankful your parents aren’t home tonight because you can tell this is going to get ugly. “We fucking grew up together! He’s like a brother Lucas!” You were the first one to yell and you had unfortunately opened the floodgates because now Lucas is yelling.
“Who hasn’t heard that before?! He’s like a brother. Give me a fucking break. You’re telling me you’ve never had feelings for him? Not once in your life?”  
The accusations and ideas he was throwing around tonight were beyond ridiculous. 
“I’m not thirteen anymore Lucas. You know I only love you.” And you don’t realize what you’ve basically admitted until it leaves your mouth and you hear Lucas let out a dry laugh. 
“Ah. There it is. I think that last part may have been a lie, because you still wouldn’t be wearing that ring if you didn’t still feel something for him.” 
You shake your head at him, why couldn’t he get what you were saying though his thick skull. “I only have platonic love for Charles. It’s nothing like what you and I have.” 
He clicks his tongue, and you can hear the gears turning in his head. “Prove it.” You furrow your eyebrows at him, confused as to how you are supposed to prove that you love only him. “Take the ring off and give it back to Charles.” 
You tuck your hands behind your back, afraid he’ll try and rip it off your finger again. “No. It’s just a ring Lucas. You’re giving it more power than it has.” 
“If it’s just a ring then take it off.” You shake your head no at him. “Take it off Y/N.” You shake your head no again and he stalks towards you, causing you to back up until the backs of your knees hit your bed. “Take off the fucking ring!” He’s yelling and you can feel the tears starting to pool in your eyes. He’s never gotten this crazy before and you can tell that this is the end of the two of you. 
“Lucas just go.” You're trying to hold back your tears, but when he tries to reach around to grab your hand you let out a sob. “Lucas, leave! Now!” 
He backs up, and for the first time that night you get a good look at his eyes. They are no longer the pools of honey you once found yourself getting lost in, their dark, like a black void, and he almost looks unrecognizable as he stands there. “You never truly loved me did you?.” 
His words cut through you, because you really did love him, and you thought he loved you. But someone who loves you would never treat you like he has you. “I loved you more than you’ll ever know, but clearly you’ve got some shit mixed up in your head to think that I didn’t.” 
“But you are always going to love Charles more Y/N. You can tell yourself it’s only platonic love, but we both know it’s not.” 
You wipe away your tears as you sit back down on the side of your bed, this was getting old. “I can’t do this anymore. Truly. I’ve tried to tell you how much you mean to me, but Charles is a part of my life and if you can’t deal with that,” You take a deep breath, scared for what's about to come out of your mouth. “Then maybe we should break up.” 
And for the first time that night Lucas doesn’t respond and you’re actually surprised that he doesn’t put up a fight. “Alright then I guess we are done.” When he doesn’t immediately leave and decides to squat down in front of you, you're confused. Especially when he wipes away your tears as his hand cups your cheek. “I never wanted us to end up like this, but I can’t share your heart with someone else.” 
He should be screaming and instigating more arguing, not being gentle and loving. More tears fall down your cheeks as he presses a final kiss on your forehead before walking out your bedroom door. You can hear your parents greet him downstairs, what great timing for them to arrive home, and when the front door slams you’re surprised your Dad isn’t going after him. 
You’re immediately calling Charles and you don’t even have to speak, your sniffles and ragged breathing lets him know that you need him. As you hang up the phone you hear a gentle knock on your door and you see your Mom peek her head in, her heart breaking when she sees the state you’re in. “Oh my sweet girl.” 
“It’s over Mom.” You choke out between sobs. 
She does the only thing that she knows you need right now and just holds you, lets you get it all out as she runs her fingers through your hair. 
But seconds later you’re both greeted with an out of breath Charles standing in the middle of your room. Your tears subside for a moment, as you see him doubled over trying to catch his breath.
“Alright, I’m gonna leave you two be.” Your Mom gives you a reassuring kiss on the head before exiting your bedroom. 
Charles takes her spot next to you on your bed, his arm immediately pulling you into him. “Did you run here?” You ask as you rest your head on his shoulder. 
“Did you expect anything less when you called me crying?” He’s deadly serious when he says it, and you don’t know it, but he’d drop everything to come to your aid, no matter if you asked or not. You don’t answer him, but when you wrap your arms around his waist and basically tuck yourself into his side, he knows you appreciate him being here. “Am I wrong for thinking this has something to do with Lucas?” 
The tears start to fall again as the fight replays in your head. “We broke up.” Your words barely above a whisper, but Charles has no trouble hearing them, even over your sniffles. 
“Never liked that asshole anyways.” 
You rolled your eyes at Charles' statement, lightly laughing because he was totally lying. “Don’t lie, you liked him, hell everyone liked him.” 
“Ever thought I am just a very good actor? He made you happy, so I just pretended to like him, for your sake.” 
“Wish you would have made your dislike of him known, maybe I wouldn’t be a hot mess on a Friday night right now.” A sigh escapes past your lips, the feeling of Charles gently rubbing circles on your side had started to soothe you. And you wished you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his embrace. 
Charles doesn’t mean to pry, he knows you’ll tell him when you're ready, but he’s curious as to why the two of you had broken up, as far as he was concerned the two of you seemed happier than ever. But he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t happy about the two of you breaking up, for reasons unknown to him yet. 
“You gonna tell me what happened?” 
Your grip on him tightens and he thinks if he let you, you’d be under his skin if it was possible. “He was jealous of you.” 
Charles feels his heartbeat quicken and he’s not sure why, but he does know he wants to hear the whole story. “And?” 
You know you’re going to start crying again, but it's Charles, you can tell him anything. So you take a deep breath and spill the beans. “It started a couple months ago. He’d pick fights over stupid stuff at first and then it turned into stuff concerning you. I tried to just let it go and make sure he knew he was my number one priority. But tonight’s fight was the worst one yet and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. He was basically insulating that I loved you more than him and I tried to tell him it was only platonic love that I had for you, but he wasn’t convinced.” 
There’s a strange feeling that blooms in Charles' chest as your words hit his ears and it clouds his mind because he’s never had a feeling like this when he’s been around you. It’s foreign and it scares the shit out of him.
You hold back some information from Charles, mainly because you were still processing how you really feel about him. Trying to sort through what Lucas had planted into your brain and what might have already been there, left over from thirteen year old you. But your ring clad finger searches for his and when you feel the cool contrast of his ring, you wrap your pinky fingers together. “Do you think our friendship is normal Charlie?” 
He cocks an eyebrow at you, confused as to what you meant. “Where’s this coming from?” 
Your eyes never break away from your intertwined fingers, matching rings staring back at you. “Lucas said our friendship isn’t normal and basically the fact that we have matching rings isn’t normal either.” 
Now Charles' gaze is also on your rings and for a moment he thinks maybe it isn’t normal, but then he realizes this is your guys normal. So fuck what anyone else or Lucas thought about his friendship with you. “Think he might have been just pulling shit out of his ass at that point. Jealous that he doesn’t have anyone in his life like we do each other.” 
Charles' words do make you feel a little better, because you know no matter what you’ll always have each other and tonight is proof of that, but that doesn’t stop your still broken heart from showing.
“Still kind of made me feel like shit though, like he made it seem like I didn’t love him at all, when I clearly did. I mean god Charles he was my first date, first kiss, first everything. Even with how badly he had treated me these last couple months, we’re always gonna have that connection. How am I supposed to find someone like that again? Fuck. I mean he literally has a part of me that I’ll never get back.” 
And Charles can feel his heart tightening at your words, because you’re truly the most amazing girl he knows, and to know that Lucas treated you badly when all you deserve is the best awakens something in him. 
“I wish you could see how you look to me, how amazing you are. Yes, you have those connections with Lucas, but believe me when I say you aren’t going to have a problem finding someone else.” 
A small smile finds its way onto your face as you hear Charles speak. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” 
“I wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You’re funny, kind, the best listener, and you’re so beautiful. Truly Y/N, anyone would be lucky to have you. And Lucas is clearly stupid for letting you go.” 
The blush on your cheeks probably looked like a bad sunburn with how much you were blushing and as you made eye contact with Charles you suddenly felt like that thirteen year old girl again. His blue eyes burning into yours and when he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear you can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach. And for a brief moment Charles had pushed your thoughts about Lucas to the back of your mind. 
He pulls you into a hug and if there is one place you feel the safest in the world, it’s in Charles arms. And when he whispers into your ear that everything is gonna be fine, you know it’s going to be, as long as you’ve got Charles in your life. 
seventeen and twenty 
He had done it. 
Charles had finally gotten into Formula 1. The thing he had only dreamt of since childhood had finally come true. The long weekends away from home, the training, the tiredness, the stress, it was all worth it in the end. That seat was finally his and you couldn’t have been more proud. He had been in talks with a couple of the teams for a while and he always kept you updated on the possibilities, some weeks it sounded like he would sign with one team, and then the next another. The whole situation was beyond stressful to you, so you could only imagine how Charles felt about it all. 
The day you found out that he signed with Suaber was one you’ll never forget.
Charles had tried to plan some elaborate thing to announce the big news to you, but that meant he would have to keep it a secret from you for at least a day or two. Something he found to be rather difficult once he got home, because the only thing he wanted to do was tell you. 
It didn’t matter to him that it was almost midnight by the time he had gotten home from the airport, he was going to tell you tonight no matter what. He pulled his phone out of his pocket– thumbs moving rapidly as he texted you. 
After dozing off multiple times in the last half hour you had decided to call it quits on your binge session of The Office for the night. You had switched the TV to something random to actually fall asleep to and it didn’t take long for you to be on the cusp of actual sleep until– 
DING
A groan escaped past your lips and you contemplated ignoring it, but when the second alert went off you snatched your phone off the nightstand. It felt like you were staring directly into the sun as your eyes struggled to read the text notification. 
Charlie: come out back 
Your eyes glanced at the time – 12:15. What the hell could he possibly want this late? But you begrudgingly got out of bed, slipping on some shoes and a sweatshirt before quietly going downstairs. 
The light on the back patio illuminated the backyard just enough for you to see Charles sitting on the swings waiting for you. And If you were even thinking about sneaking up on Charles that would have been impossible with the sliding door to the backyard. The thing screeched like nails on a chalkboard even with you opening it just enough to slide through it. His gaze now locked onto you as you scurried off the porch and towards the swings. 
The smile that he greeted you with was one beyond measure. He was clearly happy about something and you could tell just by the crinkles around his eyes and those dimples that right now looked to be deeper than canyons. 
“What’s got you so happy, Leclerc?” 
Your eyes focused on Charles' frame as he swayed back and forth slowly on the swing. He was clearly too big for it – his legs were bent awkwardly and his swing creaked everytime he moved. You could feel the sides of the swing digging into your hips and you realized you probably looked as ridiculous as him. 
“Just happy to see you. Missed you.” His smile still ever prominent. 
You scoffed at his words, he had just seen you a couple days ago. “Yeah right. You wouldn’t have texted me at midnight if there wasn’t something going on. In fact, how did you know I was up or even home? It’s a Friday night you know.” 
“Because I know you Y/N. Your Friday nights are usually spent at home watching some show until you can’t stay up any longer.” 
A grimace finds its way onto your face, what an amazing life you live. “Okay when you say it outloud it makes me sound like a loser.” 
His eyes had softened as the two of you made eye contact. “Nothing wrong with how you spend your Friday nights.” 
You wanted to get off the topic of your nonexistent social life and onto the pressing matter at hand tonight – what had Charles so giddy? “So are you gonna tell me what is actually going on or what?” 
He took a deep breath, he couldn’t believe he was finally getting to say these words out loud. “I’ve got a Formula 1 seat next year.” 
A blank expression is all that is staring back at Charles and he’s worried that you’re somehow mad or upset, but that’s far from the truth. You aren’t sure if you’ve heard him right, because you think you heard him say he’s going to be racing in Formula 1 next year, but your brain has seemed to have short circuited– your heart beating a mile a minute. 
You’re able to get out, “Sorry – what?!” and when you hear those words come from him once again you’re practically leaping out of the swing and into his arms. The fact that it’s nighttime and people are sleeping is the last thing on your mind as you're shouting excited nonsense at him. 
His laughter filled your ears as he stood up from the swing with you still wrapped up in his arms. You just couldn’t believe it, something he had worked so hard for, dreamt about since childhood, had finally come true. If anyone was deserving of it – it was him. 
“Putain de merde Charles! When did you sign and with who?” You asked once you had finally peeled yourself away from him and were able to form a coherent sentence. 
“Sauber – I just signed yesterday. I know it’s not Ferrari like we had hoped-” 
Your jaw dropped and you lightly smacked his arm. “Ferrari will always be there, I promise. And maybe after they see how good you do this upcoming season they’ll regret not signing you. But what I’m really wondering is why you told me you were going to do testing for one of the teams instead of telling me you were going to sign with them!” 
He put his hands up in defense, but the cheesy grin on his face still remained. “I wanted to surprise you! But then as soon as I signed that contract all I wanted to do was tell you. I literally just got home from the airport when I texted you!” 
The fact that Charles wanted you to be the first person he told had you melting and the butterflies in your stomach had you thinking about those unresolved feelings you had towards him. But you pushed it aside because tonight was not the night for that to be lingering in your mind. 
You reached down to his hand and linked your pinky fingers together. The gesture no longer just meant for a promise, but also one of comfort and reassurance. “I do hope you know though how immensely proud I am of you. How proud your Papa would be of you. I knew from that first time you ever mentioned something about becoming a F1 driver when we were kids that you would accomplish it and now look at you.” 
Charles' eyes soften at your words and when he looks into your eyes he feels that funny foreign feeling. The one that blooms in his chest and travels down to his stomach, the same feeling from last year when he held you after Lucas broke your heart. The feeling he chooses to ignore as he pulls you back into his arms, hugging you tightly, like someone might take you from him. He knows his life wouldn’t be the same without you and that he owes some of this success to you– for constantly believing in him even when he didn’t, for dreaming with him, and for being the light on even his darkest days. 
“And I hope you know that I wouldn’t have made it without you. You’ve been my biggest supporter since we were kids, always believing in me, pushing me, coming to support me when you could, and I can’t imagine you not being at my first race.” 
“Oh do you not remember what I said when we were younger? Think I said I’d have a permanent paddock pass, so you bet your ass I’m gonna be there.” 
A small laugh escapes past his lips and his dimples are back out in full force for what seems like the millionth time tonight. “Truly Y/N. Merci, I couldn’t have done it without you. Je t'aime.” 
“Je t'aime aussi Charlie.” 
His pinky finger finds yours once again and when he curls his finger around yours a wave of deja vu washes over you. And that’s when you remembered the last time the two were out here together. You were still kids, but you had made him promise not to forget you once he got into Formula 1. 
Now here the two of you stood, high on the exciting news of him achieving that goal. You can’t help that pit that starts to form in your stomach as you think of what you feared at age ten coming true. You try to hide it, not wanting to dampen the mood, and you know all you can do is pray that he keeps his promise. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
That following March you make the trip to Australia with the Leclerc’s and your family and it’s everything you could have ever dreamed of. Sure you had attended the Monaco Grand Prix every year, and some of Charles F2 races, but you had never been really in the thick of it like this. Maybe it was because it was Charles' first ever F1 race, but the feeling in the air was indescribable. The roar of the engines, the cheers from the crowd, it was something you could get used to experiencing. 
It’s surreal to see him in the car, see him flying around the circuit like it’s nothing, because all you can imagine is eight year old Charles saying he wants to be an F1 driver when he grows up in that car. He ends up placing P13 and for his first ever F1 race you couldn't have been more proud. And you aren’t afraid to admit that you shed a few tears, honestly you think everyone shed a few tears seeing him finally accomplish that lifetime dream of his. 
When you see him after the race he’s beaming like he’d won the thing and you could only imagine what he will be like when he actually wins his first race. You can practically feel the adrenaline radiating off of him when he wraps you up in his embrace. 
“You did so good Charles. You did it, you made it.” Your words slightly mumbled against his shoulder, but he hears you just fine. 
“I’m glad you were able to come. Wouldn’t have been as special if you didn’t.” You don’t think he’s wiped that smile off his face ever since he got out of the car and it only intensified as he spoke to you. 
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” And it’s true because there’s no other place you’d want to be right now. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The next time you see him is for the Monaco Grand Prix and he’s nearly shitting himself the whole week before. You would have thought this was his first ever time in a F1 car with how nervous he was. He knows these streets like the back of his hand, knows this circuit like the back of his hand, but he still spends an unnecessary amount of time on the sim, trying to perfect every little thing. 
With what little amount of time you see him between practice sessions and qualifying before the actual race you try and reassure him, let him know that he’s still an amazing person and driver no matter the outcome on Sunday. And it seems to have worked because by Sunday his spirits seem to be much higher and he’s got a good feeling about the race, hoping to score some points, and maybe win his home race. 
But when his brakes fail and he ends up crashing into the back of another car resulting in a DNF you’re heartbroken, but you know he’s even more upset. You know he’s going to be so hard on himself and overanalyze the whole situation, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to try and make things a little better. 
When you find him he’s pacing back and forth in what little space he has in his drivers room. Helmet still strapped onto his head and his race suit still done up. You spot one of his gloves on the physio table and the other on the ground — evidence that he had thrown them. He’s so in his head that he doesn’t even see you standing in the doorway as he paces. 
“Charlie.” Your voice is soft and you hope by using his nickname that it may calm him a little. 
His movements stop when he hears your voice and when he finally sees you standing there in the doorway all he wants to do is crawl into a hole and die. What an embarrassment to have his first DNF at his first home race. It’s like the gods wanted to punish him for reasons unbestowed to him. 
Your reflection stares back at you through his visor as you approach him, his shoulders relaxing slightly as your hands find their home on them. You finally work up the courage to flip up his visor so you can actually look at him and when you see red puffy eyes staring back at you your heart breaks a little more. 
“Let’s get this helmet off, yeah?” 
With a small nod given from him as permission you reach your hands up to undo the strap. You’re trying to be delicate with your actions, but when it comes to taking off his helmet there really isn’t a way to be nice about it. And Charles knows because he’s got his hands over yours, aiding you in taking it off. 
You couldn’t help but stare at him as he practically tore off his balaclava and threw it haphazardly somewhere in the room. As silly as it seemed, the indentions that it left behind on his face somehow made him more attractive. Combine that with his hair being a tousled mess and his skin glistening from the sweat (and tears) and post race Charles may be your favorite Charles. You watched even more intently as he unzipped his race suit, letting the upper half fall at his hips, exposing the tight fireproofs that you loved more than you should. 
Those unresolved feelings that you’ve tried to shove deep down for years had seemed to be crawling their way back up recently. But for today you pushed them back down because you were here to comfort Charles, not ogle at him, no matter how good he looked at the moment. 
He sat down on his physio table with a defeated sigh, hand running through his already messy hair. “I’ve let everyone down – the team, my family, myself, you. Maybe if I wouldn’t have braked too hard at turn seven or didn’t push as hard in the tunnel-” 
You moved to stand in between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders. He was on the edge of spiraling and you knew if you didn’t take him back from that ledge he’d be in his head about it for weeks. 
“Charles. There was nothing that you could have done differently, it was an issue with the car. Which means it had nothing to do with you as a person, as a driver, or your talent.” Your hand subconsciously searches for his, and like it’s muscle memory your pinkies link seconds later. “I promise.” 
“A ‘once in a generation driver’ would have avoided crashing.” 
Ugh. The phrases that the media used to describe Charles were – yes very flattering, but they came at a price. He took them personally and the idea of being anything less than what they claimed him to be took a serious mental toll on him. 
“You had no brakes Charles. What were you supposed to do? Bust your feet through the floor and Fred Flintstone it?” You could see the corners of his mouth turn up slightly at your comment and you knew he was backing away from the edge. His hands find their way around your waist and he’s pulling you into him, your head finding a home on his shoulder. 
“I’m still immensely proud of you. Hell, you could finish dead last in every race and I’d still be your number one fan.” This time there is an actual smile that washes across Charles face, but you don’t get to see it, your head is still resting on his shoulder. “ And I know it’s easier said than done, but please try not to be so hard on yourself, especially when it comes to things out of your control.” 
“What would I do without you?” It’s a serious question that Charles asks himself often. You’ve been each other's rocks for twelve years now. Through the amazing times and the horrible times. No one knows either of you like you do each other. 
You’ve pulled away from his embrace now, your eyes staring back at his. “Hmmm. I don’t know. You’d probably be absolutely miserable without me.” 
And when you finally see that pretty smile of his, dimples and all, you know you’ve accomplished your mission. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Although after Monaco– things changed. 
The first thing and probably the most inevitable was Charles moving out. Honestly, you were surprised he hadn’t done it sooner, but in between the Monaco GP and Canadian GP he moved into his own place. Which in theory wasn’t a big deal, but that meant he wasn’t just right down the street from you anymore. He had gotten an apartment further into the city, which in Monaco that’s not that far, but you knew it would make a difference. 
The days of popping into his house and expecting him to be there were long gone. The whole thing really shouldn’t have been such a big deal to you, but you couldn’t help but think that him moving out was only going to aid in your worries of him forgetting about you to come true. 
After Monaco your communication with Charles started to slowly lessen.Texts that once were answered in minutes now went hours without an answer or sometimes no response at all. You blamed it on his busy schedule, trying not to think too much about it. But much to your dismay, your worries do come true. 
It’s inevitable to you that you are drifting apart when you realize it’s been three months since you’ve seen him, almost a month since you’ve talked to him. And when you see him make it official with some girl you hadn’t even heard mention of after the British GP you feel like it’s just another nail in the coffin. 
You don’t even make the effort to reach out anymore, in fact you make sure not to after seeing that he’s got a new girlfriend. You’d just be wasting your time and energy. And it may seem like you're giving up on keeping Charles in your life, but really what else could you do? It truly hurts like hell to see the person you care about the most not seem to care about you, but you can’t force someone to talk to you or see you. 
He’s living his dream, traveling the world, partying, surrounded by stunning women. You’re still in school, still only seventeen, and not sure what you want your life to look like. It was inevitable really, for the two of you to drift apart, but that little part of you that ten year old you still holds on to, hopes that Charles remembers that promise he made and eventually comes to his senses. Because you know and you know he knows that you two are always going to have that special bond, the ring on your finger a constant reminder of it. And you wonder if he still wears his, but you don’t hold on to much hope that he does. 
Even though Charles and you aren’t exactly the closest at the moment you do want to try and attend another race before you start your final year of school and are forced to give that all of your attention. So when Arthur texts you asking if you want to go to Monza with Pascale and him you don’t pass up the opportunity.
Arthur filled you in on stuff regarding Charles during the flight, not that you asked, but he knew the two of you hadn’t really been talking. And you don’t mean to ask about his girlfriend, but you do, and you can see Arthur tip-toeing around his words. “She’s… nice. I’ve only met her once so I really couldn’t tell you much. You haven’t met her yet though, right?” 
You shook your head at him. “I haven’t even seen Charles since the home race. So no, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her.” 
“Merde. I didn’t think it had been that long.” 
What Arthur doesn’t tell you is that Charles doesn’t know their Mom and him are coming, not to mention you. You only figure it out when Arthur says something about making sure Charles doesn’t know to the Sauber team member who gives him three VIP passes. Arthur claims you guys are here to surprise Charles, give him a little pick me up after his last two races were DNF’s. 
The idea of seeing Charles again after so long already had your stomach in knots, but now knowing he doesn’t even know you’re coming makes it even worse. You were under the impression that he knew you were tagging along with Arthur. And everyone knows Charles is horrible at hiding his emotions, what if he sees you and can’t hide the fact that he doesn’t want you here? A million possibilities ran through your brain as Arthur dragged you towards the Sauber garage, while Pascale went to hospitality. 
Qualifying had just started and you were thankful for the extra time to mentally prepare yourself to see Charles again. With the way you were acting you would have thought you hadn’t seen him in years, but truthfully these three months had felt like years. 
The roar of engines were slightly muffled as you put on a headset, eyes focused on the monitor in front of you. Even with your nerves through the roof, it felt good to be back at a race. The atmosphere was intoxicating, you loved the hustle and bustle of it all, the adrenaline you got from just being here was crazy. 
You were so engrossed in watching Charles that you didn’t even notice someone come up behind Arthur and you until you felt him tap your shoulder. When you turn around the person standing there is the last person you expected to be seeing.  
Leah— Charles' girlfriend.  
Her lips are moving, but you aren’t hearing a word, and that’s when you realize you’ve still got your headset on. You quickly pull them down around your neck just in time to hear her say. “You must be Y/N?” You're shocked she knows who you are and from the look on your face she knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Charles has mentioned you before. It’s nice to finally meet you!” 
It’s sad to say that you had a hard time believing that Charles talked about you to her, but you put on a fake smile and accepted her invitation for a hug. “It’s nice to meet you too!” While Arthur and her spoke you tried to get a good read on her, but it was hard to tell if she was naturally this friendly or if it was all just an act. 
Time slipped away as the three of you chatted and you hadn’t realized Q1 was over and that Charles hadn’t made it into Q2 until you saw Leah’s eyes widened at something behind you. That something turned out to be someone and that someone turned out to be Charles. Leah’s practically hanging off of him while she’s trying to take a million photos and videos. And that’s when you know why Arthur tiptoed around his words about her earlier. Yes she was ‘nice’, but she was clearly using Charles for her own benefit. 
Charles on the other hand was oblivious to Leah shoving her phone in his face. His vision had zeroed in on you from the moment he entered the garage, even with your back turned to him he could spot you in a crowd of hundreds. When you finally turned around he felt like his feet had been cemented to the ground. His body felt hot, like a fever was running through his veins, and it wasn’t from being in the car moments ago. 
Arthur wasn’t supposed to be here and you weren’t either– especially talking to his girlfriend. It throws him for a loop and he can’t seem to get his brain and mouth to work together to even greet you, so he stands there while Leah makes sure everyone knows she’s dating a Formula 1 driver. 
The tight lipped smile you throw his direction doesn’t help how he’s feeling. You should be beaming at him, in his personal space (preferably in his arms), laughing at something dumb he said, anything other than how you were right now. And he knows it's no fault but his own, but it still hurts to see you stand there and act like you don’t like him, like you haven’t known each other for twelve years.
Charles could blame his absence in your life on his career, but that wasn’t the whole truth. 
He had seen your texts and truthfully sometimes he was so busy that he would forget to text you back. But those times when he could give you his full attention over text or the occasional facetime were times he never took for granted. He loved hearing your laughter, seeing your smile, or even just having you send him a text about your day. But with those things he loved so dearly came that funny feeling in his chest. 
The same feeling that he first felt last year when Lucas broke up with you, the night he told you he made it into F1, at his home race, and sprinkled in occasionally at other times. He had realized what it was not too long after the Monaco GP and at first he denied it, he thought there was no way it was possible. But then when that feeling would happen just from getting a text from you he knew he was fucked. He wasn’t even going to say the word out loud, not even think it, afraid of what might come if he even allowed the universe the satisfaction of him accepting what he was feeling. You were supposed to be his best friend and not someone he had feelings for. 
So what did he do to combat this insane revelation he had found out about himself? 
Distance himself. 
If he wasn’t in contact with you or seeing you, then surely this silly little thing, that he once again would not acknowledge by its government name, would go away. Plus his ever so busy career was the perfect excuse for him to use in case his Mother or you questioned him. 
And at first it wasn’t hard at all, he had gradually weaned himself off from facetiming you and then texting. And it wasn’t that bad because he had racing and training and media duties and parties– all the stuff that his life involved now to distract him. But then your texts became less and less and then on one off week he realized just how badly he missed having your stupid contact photo pop up on his phone and how he may have fucked everything up. 
But then he met Leah through another driver’s girlfriend and he had her to distract him even more. He knew what kind of person she was from the get go, but he was basically using her too, so if she wanted to make her whole instagram about him then so be it as long as his brain was free of that thing that must not be named about you. And Leah worked for awhile, she was relatively nice and it helped that she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. 
There was no real connection between them and sometimes Charles would rather watch paint dry than have a conversation with her. And most of the time he just let her sit there and talk while he scrolled on his phone, trying not to act like his heart didn’t skip a beat when a post of yours would pop up on Instagram. 
He wanted to contact you so badly, but what was he supposed to say? Hey, I've been so busy that I haven't even picked up my phone to text you hi. 
He knew he had caused some damage to your relationship when his Mom asked why he wasn’t coming home to see you anymore and that you weren’t yourself. He feels like shit about it, the idea of him making you upset is practically nightmare fuel for Charles and he doesn’t know why he thought distancing himself would make things better, they had just made things worse. Made him miss you even more without even realizing it. 
Clearly Charles had never heard the saying distance makes the heart grow fonder because if he had then maybe he wouldn’t have been stood there like a fool in the Sauber garage right now. Heart racing faster than the car he just got out of at the sight of you standing here in front of him for the first time in three months. 
What the hell was happening to him? What was this sudden effect you had on him? Had it always been there and he hadn’t realized it until now? He couldn’t think straight – it was clearly not a good idea to have tried to ignore these realizations (feelings) he had about you. A bad idea to not see you for months because now that you are here everything is rushing back up to the surface 10x worse than before. 
“Long time no see stranger.” Your voice brings him back to reality, but your closer proximity has him searching for an out. His head glancing in every direction for someone– his race engineer, one of the mechanics, Leah, anybody to distract him from you. 
When his search comes up short he resorts to making his stomach hurt even more by talking to you. 
“Yeah. How have you been?” God. Did he not even know how to talk to you anymore? Small talk with someone you know better than yourself had to be a torture method used by government agencies. 
“I’ve been good.” Lie, but he didn’t need to know that. “I see you’ve been living it up since I saw you last.” 
You were expecting a little awkwardness between the two of you, but the way Charles was acting was insane, it was like it was your first time meeting or something. He couldn’t maintain eye contact to save his life and honestly looked like he’d rather be someplace else at the moment. Your fear of him not wanting you here was clearly not a silly worry, it was reality. 
“Um yeah. Always busy doing something recently.” 
You’ve been fidgeting with the ring on your pinky finger the whole time and your movements catch Charles' gaze. His eyes immediately locking in on the silver ring still shining on your finger. He’s surprised after the way he’s treated you these past couple months that you still have it on, but yet here you stood in front of him with it on, a sign to Charles that he did not deserve you one bit. 
When he sees you realize that he’s staring at your ring and then sees your eyes shift to his naked finger his heart rate quickens once again. His stomach feels like it's about ready to drop out of his ass at the sight of hurt on your face that’s then quickly replaced by a blank stare. He can’t get his words out fast enough, he’s chewing on his words, mouth drier than the Sahara desert. 
“I-um-It’s in my-” 
“It’s fine Charles, really. We’re not little kids anymore. I shouldn’t be holding on to silly childhood promises.” It wasn’t fine, it was far from fine. You’re blinking back tears, your words referencing everything but the ring. But it’s a combination of everything that’s got you upset. The two of you drifting apart, the broken childhood promises, wanting to hate him right now but still being so proud to see him out there doing what he loves, and that damn ring. 
You felt stupid for still having it on, for thinking that he would still have his on. You needed to start being more realistic, but you were still only seventeen. An age that held so much fun and whimsy, you should be out having fun with your friends, not getting upset over a guy who clearly didn’t feel the same about you. The two of you were always going to be at two different times in your lives, it was never going to work out, but fuck there is always going to be apart of you that still holds onto him. He’s got his fingers dug so deep into you that you think you'll be old and gray and still wonder what could have been. 
Each word you spoke felt like a stab to Charles' heart. He wanted to tell you that he still wears his ring. That it’s sitting on its designated spot in his driver's room. But once again he can’t get his words out fast enough, his brain still hung up on your words for some reason. He’s hoping you would realize that the reason he doesn’t have it on was because he had just been in qualifying, but when he sees you slide your ring off and toss it in your bag those stabs to the heart intensify. He feels like he’s losing everything right in front of him, but he can’t seem to get his mind and body to work together to stop it. 
He feels an arm wrap around his and he knows it's Leah. Where was she moments ago when he was looking for an out? Maybe this situation could have been avoided and Charles wouldn’t feel like he had just lost the one person in his life who truly cared about him. 
“Good luck tomorrow Charles.” 
You don’t feel like sticking around any longer, especially if you have to look at Charles and Leah. You let Arthur know you're gonna go find Pascale, but you don’t leave without taking one last glance at Charles. 
It’s a long evening with Arthur’s prying questions about what's going on between his brother and you. All you can do is shrug your shoulders because really you don’t actually know what happened yourself, you assumed you drifted apart, but was there something else that happened that you didn’t know about? 
The next day you decide to watch the race from Sauber’s hospitality with Pascale, hoping to get away from Arthur’s never ending questions and Leah’s presence in general. Pascale luckily hadn’t pressed you on the Charles matter, but she’s practically your second Mother and she knows too that there’s something going on between Charles and you, she’s known from the beginning.
Charles ended up placing eleventh, which is miles better than his last two races, which were DNFs. Though you don’t even bother to go to the garage with Pascale, opting to stay in hospitality until it’s time to leave. It may have been petty of you, but you really weren’t in the mood to see Charles again and from his behavior yesterday he clearly doesn’t care that you're not there. 
But that was far from the truth. In fact Charles was praying that you would show up in the garage this morning, but when Arthur shows up solo he can’t hide the frown that forms on his face. The praying then moves onto seeing you post race, but that is quickly diminished when his Mother shows up without you in tow either. 
Your words from yesterday hung heavy in Charles' mind all last night. I shouldn’t be holding onto silly childhood promises bothered him more than it should have. And he wracked his brain trying to figure out what you could have been referencing. It wasn’t until he was almost asleep that he remembered a certain promise that the two of you made at ten and thirteen. Sleep was the last thing on his mind as he laid there wide awake staring at the ceiling recalling the memory in his mind.
He was such a fucking asshole. He’d done the one thing you promised him not to do. Granted he never really forgot about you, you were still clearly on his mind these past three months, but to you it really did seem like he had forgotten about you. Like he had gone off and became this famous race car driver that couldn’t be bothered to text his childhood best friend.
God he had fucked up, like truly fucked up, and all he wanted to do was explain himself (without revealing you know what), apologize, and try and get back to the way things used to be. That though, was proving to be easier said than done when you wouldn’t even come around. And by the time he’s done with his post race duties you’re back at the hotel ready to head back home. Charles doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance to redeem himself and you're left wondering why you even agreed to come in the first place. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
A week later you're at home sitting on your bed, face shoved into a math textbook trying to figure out some formula when your phone rings. Charles' contact photo pops up on your phone and you contemplate not answering it. You haven’t had any contact with him since Monza so you wonder why he’s decided to call you of all things on a random Monday. But against your better judgment you press answer and put it on speaker before tossing it back down on your bed. 
“Bonjour?” 
There’s muffled sounds in the background, but Charles hasn’t spoken a word, and you wonder if he accidentally butt dialed you. 
“Y/N.” His voice finally echos through the speaker and you hate the way your heart flutters at the sound of your name rolling off his tongue. 
Charles had been working himself up to call you for hours, his finger hovering over your contact too many times to count. He thinks he may have blacked out a little when he finally pressed his thumb down on the screen and then heard your sweet voice, hence his delayed response. Today was his last chance to tell you the big news he'd hoped to tell you last week in Monza, but that clearly didn’t work out. 
The big news in question? Him finally signing with Ferrari. 
The team that he had dreamt of driving for once he got into F1 had finally given him a chance. It was not only his dream, but his Father’s dream for Charles too. Many weekends with his Father spent at race tracks had all led up to him getting that initial seat this year and then finally getting that Ferrari seat for next year, he only wished his Father could be here to witness it. Charles couldn’t have been more happy to finally accomplish that dream not only for himself, but also his Father. 
The other person who knew about how badly he wanted to be sporting that Ferrari red and supported him in finally reaching that goal was you. And to Charles it didn’t matter if you guys perhaps weren’t exactly on the best of terms right now, he wanted you to be the first person he told, just like last year when he got into F1. He sure as hell didn’t want you to find out from the press release, so here he was telling you over the phone. 
“Oui?”
“I’ve done it. I’m driving for Ferrari next year.” It feels good to say it outloud, especially to you because you know just how much it means to him. 
There’s silence from your end for some time and Charles checks to make sure you hadn’t hung up on him, but the call time is still going. He’s about ready to say your name when he hears sniffles echo through the speaker.
“Are you crying?” He’s worried he’s somehow done something once again to make you upset. 
You are in fact crying, as much as you hate it. It’s a mixture of happy and sad tears that you're desperately trying to wipe away like he can see you. Happy tears for him finally signing with Ferrari, a goal that you knew he would accomplish with no issue. Sad tears because you wished he was here telling you in person, wished that things were like they used to be, wished that you never developed feelings for him, and wished that whatever that situation was in Monza last week had never happened. 
“I’m just really happy for you Charlie.” His heart skipped a beat hearing you call him Charlie, it had been too long since you’d graced him with that nickname for his liking. “I told you Ferrari would see what they had missed out on and come running.” 
A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled that night on the swings when he told you about him getting into F1. “I wanted you to be the first person to know.” You can’t ignore the butterflies that form in your stomach at the thought of him thinking about you, wanting you to be the first to know, but you’re still crying, your emotions all over the place. 
When silence fills the line and he still hears your sniffles, he knows it’s not just happy tears you’re crying. It was time to face the elephant over the phone. 
“Listen I know things have been weird between us these past couple months and,” He paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “I know it’s my fault. I broke that promise I made you and I hate myself for it everyday.” The idea of him distancing himself from you was the dumbest idea he’s ever had. He wasn’t better off without you, he was better with you. His feelings towards you aside, he’d rather die than not have you in his life. 
“I got so caught up in this new lifestyle and I lost myself for a while.” Maybe he shouldn’t be lying to you, but he wasn’t about ready to admit you know what. He’d already fucked up enough, he didn’t need to go spilling his guts and fuck everything up even more.
“And then in Monza I was shocked to see you there and I felt like an ass for forgetting about you and I was trying to figure out what to say, but you were clearly upset and it was honestly just a mess.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Basically what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for being a dick and that I really miss you.” 
His thumb toyed with the ring on his finger as he waited for your response  and he remembered you still didn’t know he still wore his. “I also still wear my ring. I just hadn’t gotten the chance to put it back on after qualifying last week.” His gaze never broke from the ring as he spoke. “I don’t like that you think I would ever stop wearing it. Gonna wear it till the grave Y/N.” 
His last sentence was mumbled, but you heard him loud and clear. Your gaze shifted towards your dresser where the silver ring had sat for the past week. Perhaps you had jumped the gun with your actions last week, you knew he had to take off his jewelry when he got into the car, but in the moment your emotions were telling you otherwise. “You made me feel like shit Charles. It’s a horrible feeling to see someone exiting your life in real time and knowing you really can’t do anything about it.” 
“I know and I’m so sorry.” He runs his hand through his hair in frustration, and he thinks he’s done it so many times that he might have a bald spot by morning. 
You feel like you’re forgiving him too easily, but you’ve missed him so much. And to hear him finally admit that he fucked up and say that he missed you too has you unfortunately very easily swayed. He’s been in your life for so long it’s felt like a piece of you was missing these past couple months without having contact with him. So, you forgive him, because you love him.
“I want things to go back to normal, like before.” You’re standing in front of your dresser now, ring rolling between your fingers. 
“They will.” He glanced back down at his ring. “I promise.” 
“You promise?” You asked as you slid the ring back on your finger, a missing part of now you back in its rightful place. 
“I promise.” 
twenty two and twenty five
Over the past four years Charles and you had matured significantly. 
You had graduated and landed a job that you loved at home in Monaco. It required you to travel a lot, which you loved, but also came with amazing off time and flexible hours. A perk you were beyond grateful for because that meant you could attend the majority of Charles races. You had also gotten your own place, a cute little apartment, and was truly embracing adulthood. 
When it came to the love department though– Charles was still there.
Over the four years you had your share of talking stages and two boyfriends who both only lasted a couple months. Your hectic work schedule didn’t help matters, but neither did your feelings towards Charles that you’ve been harboring for the past eight years. You really would have thought you’d have gotten over those, figured it was a thing of adolescents, but your twenties came and the feelings never went. It wasn’t as bad as when you were younger, you learned to handle yourself better and your job keeping you busy helped that. The two of you were at a good place in your relationship and you came to terms that unless you were a big girl and confessed your feelings to him, then you were just going to have to live with him at arms distance. 
Like you when it came to romantic relationships–  you were still Charles number one, as much as he tried to make it work with other girls, they just weren’t you. He had thought multiple times over the years that he was going to tell you how he felt, but you were either talking to someone or had a boyfriend, the timing never right. So he learned, like you, to live with his feelings towards you. A thing that was necessary if he didn’t want a repeat of what happened when he tried to distance himself from you.
So here the two of you were– adults who were completely oblivious to how either of you felt about each other for years, hopelessly pining over each other. 
Charles' career on the other hand was more of a success story than his love life. In the past four years he had accomplished his Maiden win in Belgium during his first year with Ferrari and then his second the next week in Italy. Then went on to win three more races during this year's season. 
A season with three wins may sound like a great accomplishment, but the thing was that he should have had more than three. To say that Charles' fourth season with Ferrari was stressful was an understatement for the ages. He had never been more happy for winter break to arrive than he was this year. He had started the season out on a high by winning the first race of the season, but life somehow had a way of humbling him. 
Horrible strategy calls from the team, bad pit stops, and car troubles had cost Charles his chance at the championship. It seemed like for every high he had– five lows followed. So needless to say when he saw the checkered flag at Abu Dhabi he was somewhat relieved that the season was over and perhaps making the podium may have lifted his spirits a little too. 
But that relief was short lived, because in true Charles fashion, he can’t get out of his head about the what ifs from the season. He had wanted to just let it go, leave it behind him and look forward to this time off and the new season ahead. But all his brain wanted to think about was maybe if we would have gone with softs instead of hards or pitted one lap earlier or managed his tires better then maybe he would have been still coming down from the high of winning the championship right now instead of sulking about. 
He’d been a little distant since break started and you knew he was probably in his head about everything. So when a text pops up on your phone from him late one evening telling you to meet him at the harbor you don’t even think twice about telling him you’ll be there in ten. If you had to guess what he had planned, you’d bet all your money on taking his yacht out to look at the stars. It was something the two of you had done for a couple years now, but it was usually over summer break, not the week before Christmas. But for Charles you would do anything, even brave going out on the water, at night, during the winter. 
When Charles see’s you walk up to his slip on the dock wearing what looks to be the coziest outfit and holding his favorite blanket from your apartment he thinks his heart is about ready to explode. “You’re lucky I love you Charles. It’s gonna be so cold out on the water.” 
I love you. The words echo in his mind as he helps you into the boat. It’s nothing new for you two to say it to each other, and he’s under the impression you’re saying it platonically, but god does it sound so heavenly to hear those three little words come out of your mouth and be directed towards him. 
“I’m the luckiest man alive.” He’s referring to you and that glimmer in his eye would tell anyone that he was, but you don’t see it, you’re too busy getting situated in your designated spot next to the captain's seat. 
Once he’s got the boat a good enough distance out into the water he deploys the anchor and you make your way out to the loungers on the deck. You push two of them together, making a big enough space for both you and Charles to relax. 
You’re already cozied up with the blanket by the time he makes his way over to you, but he doesn’t even have to ask, you’re already pulling back the blanket for him to slide under. 
He lets out a sigh once he gets comfortable beside you. “I needed this.” 
A hum in agreement comes from you as you scoot a little closer to Charles, a gust of cold wind blowing through the air. 
“There’s the big dipper.” Charles points his finger up to the sky, your eyes following where he’s pointing to. The two of you take turns pointing out what you think are constellations, but are undoubtedly random stars in made up shapes, but it doesn’t matter to either of you. 
The gentle lull of the waves crashing against the boat fills the silence that falls between the two of you once you’ve run out of things to point out. And you’ve somehow ended up cuddled into Charles' side, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. You couldn’t help it, he’s always been a walking furnace, and when the opportunity presents itself to be in his arms you were gonna take it. 
It was something that was happening more and more with you two recently– pushing the envelope per say on what your friendship entailed. Cuddling, staying the night at each other's apartments, hands lingering a little too long after a hug were all normal things for friends to do– right?  Friends who somehow while doing these things couldn’t tell that the other person felt the same as they did. 
Love may be blind, but in Charles and your’s case, you were blind to love. 
You don’t know how long you’ve been out here, but you think you could spend eternity out here with him. The feeling of comfort, safety, and the feeling of home that he brings you when he’s around is something you don’t think you can ever live without again. He’s your person and you hope you're his, no matter what the future for the two of you entails. 
The feeling of his fingers ghosting across your arm and down towards your hand tells you he’s searching for one thing and when his pinky finger links with yours you know he’s got something on his pretty little mind. 
“You wanna talk about it?” You whisper, your head still resting on his solid chest.
He doesn’t respond for a while and you think he perhaps didn’t hear you, but then he speaks and it sounds like blasphemy coming out of his mouth. 
“What if I quit?” 
Your body freezes at his words and you’re hoping he’s not meaning what you think, but when you lift your head to see nothing close to a joking manner on his face you know this is about to get serious. 
“I’d think you’d be miserable. You love racing, you were born to do it, it’s in your blood Charles. All the hard work you’ve put in from a literal child to now–” You shake your head, not even wanting to think about him quitting racing. “Don’t be stupid and throw it all away. You’re just only getting started.” 
A deep sigh comes from him, his eyes fixated on your now intertwined hands as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “I’m not going to, but there were so many times this past season that I thought about it. I know that’s crazy to say after I won three times, but god the lows of racing truly are lows. I’d have a good weekend and then have literally a weekend from hell the next race week. It’s just a lot– mentally. Trying to live up to everyone’s expectations, the teams, the fans, the media, and my own is like a mental prison sometimes.” 
You had sat up at this point, and almost like a small child Charles had clung to you, his head in your lap as you gently ran your fingers through hair. You knew he had a rough season, but you didn’t think it had taken this much of a toll on him. 
“And you’re right. I love racing and I’d be miserable without it, but sometimes I’m miserable with it.” 
The frown that had formed on your face moments ago had deepened at his confession. “I didn’t know the season had affected you this much Charles. Wish you would have talked to me sooner about it.” 
“Sorry.” He mumbles. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for Charlie, you’re allowed to feel how you feel. And I know you probably get sick of hearing me say it, but I’m still so immensely proud of you. Like I’ve said before, you could finish dead last in every race and I’d still be proud. I know this season was a rough one at times, but you won three times and were on the podium eleven times. That’s still something to be proud of. So for every time you're miserable because of racing, think about me telling you repeatedly how proud I am of you and maybe you’ll just be miserable because of me instead.” 
You see the corners of his mouth move up and you know you’ve gotten a little smile out of him. “That’s funny that you think me hearing you say that you’re proud of me would make me miserable. It actually has the opposite effect, so your plan may work, but it would result in me being happier instead of more miserable, which is what I think we want to accomplish right?” 
“Yes, I love happy Charlie, but I still love miserable Charlie too.” 
He’s sat up, the two of you sitting face to face now, and you aren’t sure if it's the cool breeze or him staring at you that makes a shiver run up your spine. “That’s good to know.” 
He’s still staring at you and even with only the moon as your source of light, those pretty blue eyes of his are as bright as ever, and staring into your soul. And for a split second you think he’s leaning in and you think this might be the moment he’s gonna kiss you, the moment you’ve been waiting for since you were thirteen. But you’re completely wrong, he’s only reaching for the blanket as he leans back onto the lounger once more. 
“Merci Y/N, truly. For always being here for me, especially for tonight. It was nice to finally get that off my chest. Je t’aime.’ 
You claim your spot back next to Charles and you don’t even second guess yourself when you lay your head back on his chest. “Je t’aime aussi Charlie.” 
Charles, while he can’t complain about having you in his arms and your head on his chest. He can kick himself for that moment mere seconds ago. He was finally going to do it, it was the perfect time, but he chickened out and reached for the blanket instead of using that hand to cup your cheek. He could drive a race car at 230 mph, but couldn’t work up the courage to kiss the girl he was in love with. Maybe he’d find the courage sometime in the next four years. But for now he could live with having you cuddled up against him and knowing that even if it may be platonic, you love him too. 
twenty three and twenty six 
The Monaco Grand Prix. 
An world renowned event. A pinnacle for motorsports. People from all around the world come to the tiny principality every year to watch twenty of the world's best drivers race around the streets of Monaco. 
As a child you watched the grandstands go up every year and you dreamed of getting to watch Charles race those very same streets that you took to school. The two of you as kids watching from the crowd, not knowing that some of those drivers Charles would drive alongside one day, even being teammates with some of them. Charles could only hope that one day that would be him on that top step, hearing his own national anthem play at his home race.  
That one day had yet to happen after six seasons in F1. After three DNF’s, horrible strategy, and two lost pole positions– Charles really didn’t think winning his home race was ever going to happen. He had started to believe the “Monaco curse” more and more year after year. 
You on the other hand didn’t believe that the curse existed. You did believe that the idea of one had made Charles be more in his head when the race came around every year, and in a sense perhaps making him not perform the best at times. But no, you didn’t believe in the Monaco curse.
Every year you had hoped he would win and sadly when he didn’t you were there to pick up the pieces. You knew his time would come and granted you didn’t think it would take this long. But the universe works in mysterious ways, there’s a reason for everything, and you knew there was a reason Charles hadn’t won yet. 
And as this year's grand prix rolled around you hoped that this time the universe was ready to give him what he deserved. 
You did have a good feeling about the race this year, or at least a better feeling than prior years. It was mainly because Charles had been so– carefree these past couple days. He’s usually already thinking about Monaco at the race the week before and the nerves have set in come media day, but this year he’s different. 
He’s excited of course, to be at home for the week and to see everyone for more than a couple days, but during the days leading up to media day he doesn’t show you any sign of nervousness or doubt. And you can’t help but think that this year is the year, he seems to finally be in the right headspace to win this thing. 
Charles and you had spent basically every free moment the two of you had together this week. It was nice, the two of you together again like old times. You had gotten the week off from work, a perk from your job, and it wasn’t like Charles had to travel to another country. So, the two of you took full advantage of the week. Dinner with both families together, hanging out with friends, and just enjoying each other's company filled your Monday through Wednesday. 
But come Wednesday evening you found yourself at Charles apartment after a long day on the water with all your mutual friends. You’re absolutely beat and ready to be back at your place when Charles asks you to come back to his, and you want to say no, but the way he looks in golden hour could be used as a hypnotization technique, so you say yes. 
He claims he’s got something to show you, but the whole car ride and trek into his apartment he won’t budge on telling you what it is. It isn’t until he sits down at his piano with a blush creeping up his neck that you know what he’s got to show you. 
“Have you been working on new music?” You ask with a hopeful smile on your face. 
His fingers ghosted over the keys and his pinky lightly tapped one– the sound filling the room. “For a while now and I think it’s finally ready.” The blush had made its way onto his cheeks and he’s fidgeting with his bracelets as he makes eye contact with you. “So, I think it’s only right that the person that it’s for should get to hear it first.” 
Your eyes widened in surprise and now you’ve both got crimson painted cheeks. “You wrote a song for me?!” 
“Yeah.” He states sheepishly. 
You’ve always loved hearing Charles play the piano. There were many late nights spent where you sat in his apartment and just listened to him mess around on the piano. Those nights were shamelessly some of your favorite moments with Charles, it was like the world didn’t exist and it was just you two and the piano. So to know that he thought and even cared enough about you to write you something had your heart about ready to leap out of your chest. 
“Well, let's hear it then.” You sat down on your usual spot on the couch and eagerly waited for the music to hit your ears. 
He hesitates at first, his fingers slightly slipping on the keys, but once he gets himself sorted the sound that comes from that piano nearly brings tears to your eyes. It’s beautiful and heartfelt and you can’t believe he wrote something like this while he was thinking of you. It’s tugging at those feelings you’ve still got for him after ten years and you try not to get your hopes up that this means he feels the same as you. 
When the song is over his head immediately turns to you for reassurance, but all he sees is your body barreling towards him. You’ve got your arms around him before he can even process what’s happening, but from your excited words of nonsense he knows you loved it. 
“Oh mon dieu!” Is the first coherent thing you’re able to get out. 
“I take it you liked it?” 
“Liked it? I loved it Charlie! It was beautiful and the fact that it was for me made me love it even more. Truly what did I ever do to deserve someone like you in my life? Merci a million times.” 
“I’m glad you loved it. I’ve been working on it for months, wanted to get it perfect in time to show you now.” 
You’re both beaming at each other and to anyone from the outside looking in, the two of you looked so in love it was crazy. Crazy that the both of you have been harboring feelings for each other for years and years and neither of you have made the first move. 
“Will you play me some more?” You try to give him your best puppy dog eyes and of course he can’t say no to you, puppy dog eyes or not. You give him one last hug as a thank you before you sit back down on the couch and let the melodic sounds soothe you. In fact it soothes you so much that combined with the tiredness from being on the boat all day you end up eventually falling asleep. 
You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until you feel Charles gently shaking you awake telling you that is time for bed. It’s not uncommon for the two of you to spend the night at one another’s places. You’ve spent many nights in Charles' guest bedroom after drunken nights out or sometimes just for fun. You’re clinging to him, still basically asleep, as he helps you walk towards what you think is the guest bedroom, but it’s his. 
Charles was only going to grab your pajamas that you had left here last time, they were just in the laundry basket on his dresser and it would just take a second. But you followed him into his room still thinking it was the guest room and Charles doesn’t even know you’ve come in behind him until he turns around to see you crawling into his bed.
That all too familiar feeling starts to bloom in his chest as he sees you curled up and comfortable in his bed. He’d want nothing more than to climb in next to you and hold you all night, but he knows the guest room is his room tonight. Charles doesn’t even make it two steps before you call out his name. When he turns around he’s not expecting to see you lying there staring at him with those sleepy eyes, comforter pulled back as you pat the empty spot next to you. He knows he shouldn’t, this is different than cuddling on the couch or sharing beds as kids, it feels different at least. But against his better judgment he climbs in next to you and like he’s your missing puzzle piece you instantly slide into Charles arms. 
It’s like home, being in each other’s embrace. 
The next morning when you wake up in Charles' room it takes you a minute to remember everything, but the blush that creeps onto your face at the memory of you and Charles cuddling in his bed is embarrassingly bad. And you thank god Charles isn’t next to you right now to see it. 
You do wonder where he’s gone though. He’s not in the living room or kitchen, and it’s still too early for him to have left for media day, but then you hear complaining coming from the bathroom. 
“Maman! No, that's going to be too short!” 
As you peek around the door frame you find Pascale cutting Charles' hair, a tradition the two of them have had every year before the Monaco GP. 
“Charles last time I checked you’re not a hair stylist, let your Maman do her job.” You teased as you finally entered the bathroom and you see him roll his eyes at you in the mirror.
Pascale lights up at the sight of you and leans over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Mon amour, you’re here early.” The look on her face tells you she knows you spent the night, but it’s not like it’s something new or anything happened. Hell even if she didn’t know she could definitely tell you had just rolled out of bed. 
“I spent the night. Fell asleep after we were out on the boat all day.” You shrugged your shoulders, it truly was no big deal (you sleeping in his bed and cuddling with him aside). 
She doesn’t say anything, but she does nothing to hide the smile on her face and sly looks she gives you and Charles the whole time she’s cutting his hair. She’s been waiting for the prophecy to fulfill itself forever and that prophecy just so happens to be Charles and you ending up together. Call it Mother’s intuition, but she’s known you two were made for eachother since you were kids. If you didn’t end up together soon she was going to have to do her own plotting to get you two to fess up about your feelings.
Pascale can see how you two look at each other, how Charles’ eyes light up when you enter the room. How you’ve always been his soft spot since you were little kids. The way you speak about Charles like he’d hung the stars and the moon in the sky. She knew you fell first and Charles a couple years later. All these little things she’s noticed and stored away for that eventual wedding day. 
You can see Charles staring at you through the mirror and it’s making you squirm, his eyes burning into you. “You gonna get rid of that facial hair too?” You try to get him to focus on anything other than you at the moment. 
His mouth opens in fake shock and Pascale curses him for moving. “I’m actually thinking of growing a full beard.” 
“Oh please don’t.”
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘’t.” 
Charles and you don’t speak about you spending the night in his bed or in his arms. In fact you don’t see him again until qualifying on Saturday where he puts it on pole. You’re ecstatic and you can tell he is too even though he’s trying to remain calm and collected while he does his press duties. He’s gotten pole two times before in Monaco, he knows pole doesn’t mean you win, but he can’t help but think it’s a good sign. 
That night you find yourself back at Charles' apartment by his request once again. Which was a surprise, you figured he’d want to be alone the night before the big race. But it’s quite the opposite, he wanted your company, he can’t get how good it felt to have you in his arms in his bed the other night and he selfishly hopes it happens again tonight. 
“Feeling good about tomorrow?” You asked as the two of you sat down for an amazing pre race dinner of pizza. His trainer may not like it, but you two thought it was a good idea. He needed all the positive energy he could get and if that meant pizza for dinner, then so be it. 
“Yeah. The car has been consistent the past two days and I’ve got pole.” He paused for a moment and you can tell he wants to say something, but he stuffs his mouth with pizza instead. You don’t press the matter anymore, figuring he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, didn’t want to possibly jinx anything. It’s a relatively quiet dinner the rest of the time, he asks about how your job is going and you two shamelessly gossip for a moment about two old friends who recently broke up. 
It’s not until you’re putting the leftover pizza into the fridge that he brings up tomorrow again. 
“It feels right this time.” He’s leaning against the counter, eyes trained on you as you turn back around to face him. “I mean tomorrow– it feels right. I think it’s gonna happen.” 
A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you move to lean against the counter next to him. “I think so too. You’ve been different too, more relaxed this week. Think it might be the universe telling us it’s finally gonna happen?” 
A deep sigh comes from Charles. “Mon dieu I hope so.” 
You glance over at the time on the microwave– 11:00 p.m. Shit. You didn’t think it was that late already. 
“It’s getting late Charles. You should be in bed and I should be heading home. It’s a big day tomorrow.” You go to give him a hug goodbye, but he’s just staring at you, and it throws you for a loop. “What’s wrong?” 
He swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Was he sure he wanted to ask you this? Would it make things weird? It never has before when he’s asked you, but this time felt different. Fuck his palms were drenched in sweat and he could feel his heart beat racing. 
“Um– well you could just spend the night if you wanted to” 
You try not to act like you weren’t silently hoping the whole night that he’d ask you to stay. You had figured he wouldn’t want you to again after you basically invaded his bed the other night, so hearing him tell you to stay made you a little giddy. 
“Traffic is a nightmare this time of year…” You act like you're weighing your options while you fully know you’re going to say yes. “Probably take me twice as long to get home, even at this time of night.” You fake ponder some more, really putting on a show. “Yeah I guess I’ll spend the night.” 
He tries to hide the smile on his face when he hears you finally accept his offer and as much as he would like to stay up and talk some more, he really did need to be getting to bed. “Well, I probably should be in bed by now. So I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” 
“Yeah. I should go to bed too.” 
So you follow him down the hall towards the bedrooms. When he reaches his room he opens the door, but lingers in the doorway. You being a couple paces behind him, figured he was just waiting to tell you goodnight. But when you reach the guest room, which is across from his room, he doesn’t say anything to you. Your hand lingers above the door knob and something inside of you tells you not to open it– to turn around instead. 
You’re met with his piercing blue eyes staring at you as you turn around. His gaze sometimes could be so intense, but this time you matched him. There was an obvious tension in the air, but neither of you were brave enough to be the one to break it. Then suddenly you see Charles nod his head towards his room before finally going past the doorway. He’d left the door open behind him and you knew that was just another unspoken invitation. And like a moth to a flame you followed behind him, not even second guessing your actions. You hadn’t even opened the guest bedroom door, you were a goner as soon as he asked you to spend the night. 
For the second time in a week the two of you shared the same bed, not sexually, but it definitely wasn’t friendly or at least how normal friends would share a bed. But tonight he’s in your arms, your fingers lightly combing through his hair as he rests his head on your stomach. He falls asleep rather quickly, his light snores filling the room, but sleep evades you that night. Your heads a mess, you can’t help but think that Charles has to feel the same way as you, there’s just no way that he doesn’t. 
What man is this intimate with someone in a non sexual way and doesn’t have the slightest bit of feelings for them? But then your heart breaks at the idea of him just stringing you along and you know you’ve got to set up some boundaries to protect yourself. Unfortunately you were never going to be the one to admit how you felt first, so unless he spills his guts, then this was the last time you’d share a bed with Charles like this. 
The next morning he’s already gone and at the track by the time you wake up and when you grab your phone from the nightstand you see he’d sent you a text. 
Charlie: i left early this morning and you just looked too peaceful to wake up before i left. so i’ll see you before lights out. 
A sigh escaped past your lips as you tossed your phone on the bed, today was going to be a long day. 
You made the journey back to your apartment to get ready and then fought the traffic again to get down to the circuit. The hustle and bustle distracts your brain from continuing your spiral session from last night, something you were grateful for. You were here to cheer on and support Charles, not go into a frenzy once again about whether or not he likes you. 
A good amount of your time is spent in Ferrari’s hospitality chatting with everyone and discussing potential outcomes for the race. You don’t end up seeing Charles until the time between the drivers parade and race time. He’s in his drivers room when you find him and he’s literally the calmest you’ve ever seen him before a race. 
His face lights up when he sees you and he’s immediately pulling you in for a hug. “Didn’t think you were gonna come for a second. We’ve usually seen each other by now.” 
“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Just got caught up talking to everyone and you know how our Moms get in a large group. I had to wrangle them in before they invited everyone over for dinner tonight.” 
“Well I don’t plan on being home for dinner tonight. I’m going to be out celebrating.” He’s got a cheeky grin on his face as speaks. 
You laughed lightly at his new found confidence. “Oh someone is sure of themself.” 
He only laughs along with you, as the two of you sit down on his physio table.
The two of you chat some more about random things, like if he’s planning on going to Jimmy’z or someplace else tonight. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been talking until he gets a knock on his door letting him know it’s twenty minutes till lights out. Before you leave you stand in front of him, holding out your ring clad pinky finger and like a natural reflex Charles wraps his around yours, pulling them close to his chest. 
“You’re gonna do great and when you take that top step on the podium I’m gonna be there front and center cheering you on.” 
“You better be.” He’s serious, he doesn’t want to win this thing if you aren't right there alongside him.
“I promise Charlie.” 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
You think you might pass out or throw up when the lights go out and the race finally begins. It then turns into thinking you’re going to do both when there’s a red flag not even halfway through the first lap. Your mind automatically goes straight to Charles and your stomach churns at the idea of him being hurt, screw the win, all that mattered to you was that he was okay. Thankfully he’s not involved in the crash, but the red flag lasts for what seems forever. And eventually you have to endure the start of the race again. 
You’re a nervous wreck the whole race, but you think with how hard Pascale has been gripping your hand that she might be more nervous than you. It’s the longest 78 laps of your life and you’re praying he can maintain the lead, put a big enough gap between Oscar that he can just ride this race out. Lap by lap he’s holding steady but that just makes you more nervous. The knot in your stomach grows more and more as that lap number gets closer to 78. 
He’s driven so well the whole time you couldn’t have been more proud. You’d been holding back tears since lap 68, but when you hear him over the radio on lap 75 say that he’s just going to bring it home you can’t help but let a couple tears fall. And by now you know the win is his. He’s got almost a nine second lead and as long as he keeps his head clear he was going to be the first one to see the checkered flag. 
The feeling of seeing Charles cross the finish line and knowing he had won was indescribable. The whole Ferrari unit was going crazy, already rushing down to be there when Charles got out of the car. You’re cheering as tears run down your face, your Mom and Pascale hugging you, the two of them also in tears. It’s surreal, him finally winning, you can only imagine what he’s feeling like right now. You waste no time in heading over to get the best spot to watch the podium ceremony. You’re front and center, the metal barrier pressed up against your abdomen as more people fill the crowd behind you. 
The feeling you got seeing him come out, take that top step, and proudly hold that trophy was something you wished you could feel forever. To see him wrapped up in the Monaco flag as the anthem played, the visible weight taken off of his shoulders. You were so unbelievably proud of him and so utterly in love with him. The tears just wouldn’t stop coming as you watched him shine up there. The universe had finally decided that this was his time, he was destined to win this race today. 
Charles feels on top of the world as he looks down at everyone in the crowd, he can’t believe he’d finally won his home race. He’d immediately spotted you as soon as he took that top step and he could see how happy you are for him, tears streaming down your face paired with that beaming smile. His heart has never felt as full as it does right now. And as he stands there hearing his national anthem play at his home race he knows that today was meant to be. The universe put him here, put you here, for a reason. He’s tired of pretending like his life wouldn’t be better without you being his. The two of you haven’t broken eye contact for awhile, both of you grinning like fools, and he decides that now is the time. 
“Je suis amoureux de vous” He mouths to you. 
It takes you a moment to realize what he was saying, but when you do you think you’re dreaming. There’s no way he just admitted to being in love with you right here, during his podium celebration. You pinch yourself just for good measure before mouthing it back to him. And if it was even possible his smile gets even bigger. 
You’re the first person he wants to see after the celebratory champagne pop. He can’t wait a second longer to tell you how he actually feels out loud. He doesn’t care that he’s drenched in champagne or that there’s hundreds of people around. He’s waited too long to let a moment like this go by. He’s pushing his way through the crowd to find you, he’s basically getting manhandled, but he doesn’t care, you’re his priority. And when he finally finds you it’s like a scene straight out of a movie. 
His adrenaline is pumping and he doesn’t even think about what he’s doing, he’s just running straight towards you, his heart fluttering when you smile at the sight of him. His hands cup your face and in an instant his lips are on yours. It takes you by surprise, but once your brain finally processes what’s happening, you grab him by his race suit, pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss. He tastes like champagne and sweat, his lips soft, and his facial hair tickles your face. Kissing Charles is everything you could have ever dreamed of and more, you’d never thought the day would come. 
When you finally pull back it feels like the world is spinning and Charles laughs at you being drunk off one kiss from him. His hands cup your face once more causing you to focus on him. “I’m in love with you. Have been for years, but I’ve just been too scared to say anything, but winning today let me know the universe was on my side. And I couldn’t pass up the opportunity once again to tell you how I feel.” Your eyes widen at hearing him say he’s been in love with you for years. “Don’t act so surprised. I made it painfully obvious sometimes.” His dimples peaking out as he smiles at you. 
“I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen Charlie.” 
Now it’s his turn to look surprised. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 
“Was too scared that you didn’t feel the same.” 
“I could never not love you Y/N. It’s always been you, you’re my person. I wish I would have  told you sooner so I could have been doing this more often.” He pulls you in for another kiss and you think if he didn’t have his arms around you your legs would have given out. 
Never in a million years did you think that Charles would be confessing his love to you after he’d just won his home race. If thirteen year old you could see you right now she’d probably die. You can’t believe the man you love with every fiber of your being loves you back. The universe definitely wanted today to be a win not only for Charles, but for you. 
He grabs your hand and presses your ring clad pinky finger to his lips. “Mon coeur.” Then he presses another kiss to your lips. “Je t’aime.”
“Je t’aime aussi.” 
thirty three and thirty six
The summer sun had started to make her farewell to the principality of Monaco, pink and orange hues swirled in the sky. A little boy and girl play on a weathered playset, their giggles echoing through the open air. The sound of a screeching sliding door tells them that their Maman is coming to get them before they even hear her holler their names. “Come say goodbye to grand-mère and grand-père!” 
Their tiny bodies run towards the house and are soon met with lots of hugs and kisses from their grandparents, who they see very often, but it wouldn’t seem like it by the way they were acting. 
“Ok, who wants ice cream?” Their Papa asks after all the goodbyes are said and they are out the door. 
“Me!” Is said in unison from the two children. 
The little girl has her Papa wrapped around her finger, he just thinks the world of her as they walk hand in hand down the street, while the little boy is definitely a Maman’s boy. 
“You know your Maman and I used to come to this place all the time when we were younger.” 
“We know Papa, you’ve told us a hundred times, and we come here all the time.” The little girl sasses her Papa.
“I know but I just like to reminisce.” The man gives his wife a wink and she knows he’s about ready to go down memory lane.
The journey to the ice cream shop is filled with stories about their younger years and luckily for the children the ice cream shop isn’t that far away. 
That all too familiar sweet smell soon fills the parents senses and it brings them back to when they were around their children’s age. That same bell on the door dings as they enter and that same old man who should have retired a decade ago is still working behind the counter. 
“Ah the Leclercs! My favorite family. You know I’m gonna have to start making extra vanilla ice cream just to accommodate you guys.” 
taglist: @rana030 @blueflorals @sltwins
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corkinavoid · 4 months ago
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DPxDC De-Aged Triplets and Their Tired Single Sister
Jason has seen the four of them a couple of times in Crime Alley now. They looked like a family, what with similar facial features- err, actually, the kids looked like carbon copies of each other, but their mom/sister/aunt/cousin looked similar enough to be related to them by blood.
Normally, Jason didn't care for each and every family that moved into Crime Alley. Sure, he cared about all of them as a whole, but there were a lot of people, and he couldn't possibly get elbow deep in every life story he came across. So all he knew about them were three things: a) they were on the run from someone or something, b) they trusted each other and no one else, and c) apparently, they have made it their life goal to never make any kind of sense.
The list of shit they have gotten into included but was not limited to:
• one of the kids biting a gun. Not the hand of the attacker who was holding it, no, the actual gun. And he bit a piece of it clean off, which earned him - or her, actually, Jason knew one of the triplets was a girl but he couldn't tell them apart - a lecture from their... mom? sister? parental figure. The lecture was about how chewing metal does not help with iron deficiency.
• getting kidnapped and creeping out their kidnapper to the point of him returning the kids back home. A few witnesses said one of the kids was actually driving, sitting on the kidnappers lap behind the steering wheel and cheerfully commanding the man to speed up or brake. Their mom actually apologized to the kidnapper for the incident and offered him homemade cookies for his troubles. He ran away without them.
• driving a lady at the laundromat insane by repeatedly walking inside and climbing into one of the washing machines. They never got out of it, just one kid walking into the laundromat, climbing into washing machine, then another kid, looking exactly like the previous one, walking inside, climbing into the same washing machine, then another kid walking into the laundromat- well, you get the idea. The lady claimed she's seen at least five kids do that in a row, but when she looked into that washing machine, there was no one inside.
• casually falling out of windows. Or, better, walking out of them like they were doors, at any given opportunity. The witness - an old man who was helping their mom with groceries - said the mom did not care in the slightest, and when he asked her about it, obviously concerned, she just said, tired and exasperated, 'they like the feeling of free fall, don't worry, they'll come back in a minute'. Sure enough, they did, not a scratch on them. The family lived on the sixth floor.
• eating insane amounts of food. Jason personally witnesses their mom give them her wallet, telling the kids, 'eat until you're full', and promptly passing out on the table, her head on her arms. The kids then proceeded to eat four whole pizzas, three burgers each, then seven brownies and at least five cups of soda. What was interesting about it was not only the amount of food they ate but the way they never left their mom unattended, one of the kids always staying beside her sleeping figure as the other two went to order.
And now, all four of them were standing in front of him. Not Jason Todd him, but Red Hood him. And he was... confused.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I said, can you watch them for a few hours? Three, maybe four," the mom, Jazz as she introduced herself, was looking at him like it was he who was speaking nonsense, not her. Because asking a crime lord to watch three kids in the middle of the night is not something a sane person would do.
"Why?" He asks, bewildered, because what the fuck else is he supposed to say?
"I need to kill a man, and if they come with me, it will take three times longer," Jazz tells him. Is she saying the kids slow her down or what? Jason can admit he's never been this confused in his entire life.
"You could ask me to kill a man, while you stay with them, no?" He tries to reason, but the girl waves him off:
"No, that will take even longer. Besides, no offense, but you kill people to simply end their life, and I need that man to fucking stop existing forever."
What's the difference he almost wants to ask. But instead of that, he just sighs.
"Why me? I'm sure you could find a babysitter-"
"No babysitter will handle them. The last one told me they have been running laps on the ceiling, which is, actually, not that big of a deal. They are kids. Kids like running around," she huffs, and Jason suspects she is missing the point here, but okay. He gets why babysitters are not an option.
"You do understand what they can witness if they stay here?" He asks, as the last attempt to reason with the girl, but she just nods and leans down, making all the kids turn to her.
"Okay, you menaces, tell me what not to do while you're staying with Mr. Red Hood."
"No eating people," one kid starts.
"No driving people insane," the other one continues.
"No, um, stealing eyeballs," the third one finishes, and what the fuck are those ground rules? Is this girl a mother to eldrith horrors? That would explain some shit.
Jazz turns to him, "See? They're all good."
In what world is that good? Jason debates if he should start running now or when she leaves.
"Do they have names?" He asks instead. The girl nods:
"Danny." His surprise must be evident even through the mask because she sighs and points to each kid, "Diane, Daniel, Dante. Dani, Danny, and Dan. Actually, you know what, let's make this easier," she rummages through her bag and gets a marker out before gesturing to the kids, "Come here."
As they do, she proceeds to draw numbers 1, 2, and 3 on their foreheads. Then she nods to Hood and puts the marker away.
"Okay, that's better. Behave, you monsters, I'll be back soon!"
After she leaves, Jason looks down at the kids. They also look at him, eerie and unblinking.
Finally, one of them - number 2, Dani, if he is not mistaken - asks:
"Do you want teeth? We have a lot."
"She doesn't mean her teeth," number 1 clarifies, "She means other teeth."
...This is going to be some very long three hours.
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lemonlover1110 · 5 months ago
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𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭
Toji Fushiguro
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: You're too sweet to Megumi and it drives Toji insane.
Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Gagging
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“Can we eat the cookies now?” Megumi looks up at you with hopeful eyes, and you smile at him before humming in response. Though Toji prohibited you from giving Megumi a cookie before dinner, you can’t say no to the sweet boy.
You think you’re being sneaky, watching out for Toji before giving him the cookie. Megumi’s eyes light up, and he snatches the treat from your hand. You ruffle his hair, a laugh leaving your lips before offering, “Do you want some milk too, honey?”
“Please.” He responds, and you can’t help but smile at him. If Toji were to catch you doing this to Megumi, he’d get so mad at you. You do understand, after all, you are breaking Toji’s rules.
You can’t help it though. Who wouldn’t be weak if the cutest little boy asked for cookies? Toji’s passed out on the couch anyway, it’s not like he’ll find out. It’ll look odd when Megumi barely touches his dinner, but lying is the easy part.
“You can’t tell your daddy, okay?” You tell Megumi, giving him the glass of milk that you offered. He nods in response, though it’ll definitely slip later. Megumi just has to eat the cookie fast enough before the old man wakes up–
Even though you haven’t heard him yet, he’s watching you. Toji has soft eyes as he sees you treat Megumi so sweetly, and how Megumi isn’t scared to ask anything from you. It’s partially because you spoil him, so maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised that Megumi goes to you for anything.
“Don’t tell me what?” He clears his throat, and your ears get hot, knowing that you’ve been caught red-handed. You hide your hands behind you as if you were a child, even when you have nothing in your hands to hide.
“Nothin’.” You try to play it off as if Megumi isn’t holding the cookie and a glass of milk. Toji rolls his eyes, going over to Megumi and taking the cookie from his hands. He shoves the cookie into his mouth, and it makes Megumi’s bottom lip quiver.
“I said no cookies before dinner.” Toji’s words are barely comprehensible since his mouth is full. Megumi lets out a cry, running to you and hugging you. He looks for comfort in you since his evil daddy stole his cookie and ate it.
You kneel down and hug Megumi, kissing the top of his head. Toji crosses his arms and rolls his eyes at the sight. His heart flutters though, and while he knows that he loves you and wants a future with you, right now he’s thinking he wants more. He has the want of something more, and he doesn’t want to wait until however soon the future is.
“I’ll give you two cookies after dinner, Megumi. Your dad is such a meanie.” Your hand runs up and down Megumi’s back, attempting to comfort him. Your words of reassurance help, 
“He’s getting no cookies, and you’re on timeout too.” He tells you after he swallows the food in his mouth, and you roll your eyes.
“Toji, I’m a grown woman.” You remind him, and he sticks his tongue out at you.
“No more cookies tonight, and that’s final.” Toji makes it clear before walking away, leaving you to soothe his crying boy.
What you don’t know is that Toji isn’t mad, he’s just thinking about how you make such a great mother… His thoughts embarrass him because they’re filthier than he’d like to admit.
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After putting Megumi to bed, Toji claims that he’s going to have a serious conversation with you. You’re reasonably scared at what he has to say, knowing that you’ve overstepped your boundaries. It takes you by surprise that when you get to the bedroom he locks the door before he engulfs you with kisses.
Is this the punishment Toji was talking about?
Before you know it, Toji is between your legs. His tongue runs through your folds while he pumps two fingers into your cunt. You’re biting down your lip as Toji makes you feel so good. You have to be especially quiet tonight, but you know he’s going to make the task unnecessarily difficult.
His tongue begins to flick your clit, and your chest gets heavier and heavier with every breath you take. The effect he has on you is pathetic, though you certainly don’t mind when he makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine.
“Toji…” You’re as quiet as you can be when he curves his fingers so they hit just the spot. Your lips are parted as the lowest moans leave your lips. He’s doing everything in his power to turn you into putty. “It’s so good, Toji. Fuck–”
Your thighs are squeezing his head, getting too lost in your own pleasure to care. Toji doesn’t care too much either; if this is the way that Toji dies, then he sure was a happy man during his lifetime. This is the way he wants to go, after eating his favorite meal one last time.
You’d think that after breaking his rules Toji would be mad, but this is the way he punishes you? You’re almost seeing white as pleasure consumes your body, if this is the way that Toji is going to treat you when you go against his wishes then you’ll misbehave more often.
You’re moaning his name, getting louder by the second. It’s such a sweet sound to his ears, but he can’t risk you being too loud. He takes his fingers out, flicking your clit a couple of times before rising from between your legs. There’s a taunting smirk on his lips when he stands up from the floor.
“My sweet baby, you can’t be too loud.” He warns you, his hand going under your chin and lifting your face so you have to look up at him. You bite down your lip as you nod in response. You watch him take off his shirt and pants before reaching into his drawer for the bottle of lube. 
He grabs your legs, putting them over his shoulders before coating his cock with lube. He kisses your ankle as he slowly strokes his cock, making sure to tell you, “You’re so perfect, baby.”
“I need you so bad, Toji.” You sound needy. Your pussy is clenching over nothing, needing him inside of you badly. You have no idea what came over him all of a sudden, dragging you into the bedroom and putting you on the bed– You just know that you love this.
“Beg for it, baby. Use your voice.” Toji tells you, and you roll your eyes. He’s so complicated sometimes, but you’ll give in.
“Please give me your cock, Toji. Fill me up, please please please.” You’re whiny, making sure he hears what he wants to hear. He can’t help but chuckle as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds.
“I’m gonna put it in then, is that okay, baby?” He says as he pushes the tip of his cock into you. He stretches you out, and gives you a moment to adjust when he bottoms out. His hands are holding onto your thighs, nails digging into the supple skin as he praises you, “You feel so good around me, baby.”
“Can you move, Toji?” You have to ask him, and he begins to thrust. His movements start off slow, but they’re enough to leave you breathless.
Toji is utterly in love with the sight in front of him, something which confirms his earlier thoughts. Everything you do drives him insane, even when you’re just mindlessly moaning in his bed– In your defense, you’re doing a little bit more than that. He’s groaning with the way that your pussy wraps around his cock. No matter how many times he fucks you, he’ll never get bored of the feeling. 
Two of his fingers go into your mouth, reaching far back and making you gag. He reprimands you, “I told you not to be too loud.”
His other hand goes to play with your clit, and he senses just how good that makes you feel. It’s a good thing his fingers stop you from being too loud, he doesn’t need a brat coming in and ruining his fun. Though he does say, “You want me to make you a mama?”
Your eyes go wide but you clench around him, which is all the answer he needs. “I’ll give you one of your own, baby. Don’t you wanna have my baby?”
You shut your eyes, and hum in response to his question. You should not be even more turned on by his proposal. Megumi is more than enough right at this moment, but just the thought of having his baby drives you wild. 
“I’ll give you your own, baby. I’ll get you pregnant.” Toji watches as pleasure consumes you and you reach your climax. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, grabbing your hand and putting it in place of his fingers. 
He picks up more speed, the idea of knocking you up driving him insane as well. He’s been thinking about it all night, you’d just make the sweetest mother to his kids. It’s not just sex talk, Toji is dead serious about this.
“Gonna come inside, okay? I’m gonna fill you up.” He tells you as his movements become sloppy. You’re frantically nodding, nearly coming again at the mere thought of him stuffing you with his cum. 
He groans, throwing his head back as he cums inside of you. When he pulls out, Toji lays down next to you. With heavy breathing, two fingers go down to your cunt, pushing his cum back into you.
“You’re actually serious?” You ask him, and he hums in response. You grab his hand and bring his fingers to your lips, rolling your tongue around them. A string of saliva connects your lips with his fingers when you pull them out of your mouth. You proceed to kiss his lips before telling him, “That won’t help.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.” He responds, and you chuckle.
“What came over you, anyway?” You question, and a smirk comes to his lips. He shakes his head, refusing to tell you.
He won’t let you know that seeing how great you are with kids, specifically with Megumi, makes him want to get you pregnant.
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wonryllis · 7 months ago
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?
preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.
or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.
meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.
genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.
word count. est around 20k or more
warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.
releasing. very soon!! .. progress update tag
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park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.
"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.
"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.
on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.
"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
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FIRST TAGLIST (open.) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly @mintdsunoo @uyuchoco @anittamaxwynnn @rikiwaify-blog @kill4jl @ggparkjh @sstephenzz @judeduartewannabe @jungwoneez @aye2611-blog @hybeboyenthusisast @minjaexvz
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