#Will he have to give all his cookies away?
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18+ only mdni pls thank u :D also its my first time writing smut/something this explicit so please be kind đ
kissing sylus is always such a dizzying experience, one that you can swear drives you to borderline insanity.
you usually catch him in one of two moods.
one, is when he likes to take things slow.
it's a few hours past midnight, hours past the time you should've went to bed if you wanted to get up early for work tomorrow. but you don't mind. really, every single bone in your body is screaming at you to stay where you are, perched right on sylus' lap.
your legs settle on either side of his thighs. theyâre beginning to feel like jelly, nearly numb from being in the same position for so long. both of your hands are on his shoulders. your fingers dig into the fabric of his sweatshirt. an attempt, but ultimately a feeble one to ground yourself.
likewise, sylus' hands are glued to your thighs. his palms glide over the bare flesh, fingertips brushing against the hem of your shorts. beneath the thin fabric, he draws circles with his thumb, each drag of his rough pads on your skin brings him closer to the lace of your underwear.
heâs got no sense of urgency as he pulls away, lips lingering just a hair away from yours before leaning his head to give your neck the same amount of attention. you turn your head to the side for his convenience, and he gladly takes it as an invitation to smother the entire length of your neck.
sylus works diligently, lips moving in an almost snail-like pace as if to say that you've got all the time in the world. he doesn't move to another patch of skin until he's sure there are marks in the greater vicinity of each area he covers.
his lips travel down to your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in his wake. he takes the thin strap of your camisole between his fingers, toying with the fabric enough that it slips off. his teeth sink into your skin.
your breath hitches when that delightful mix of pain and pleasure hits your senses.
it's almost too much, the way he's taking his sweet time with you. how he pours the same amount of utmost care and attention over each inch of skin he comes across, until you somehow find yourself resting on your back at the couch.
the flimsy fabric of your camisole rides up. you find it harder and harder to breathe as he runs a hand over your bare stomach. sylus plants his lips right above the garter of your shorts.Â
he tugs at the garter while he holds your gaze, an unspoken way of asking for your consent. your nod is accompanied by a quiet hum that he takes as his cue to pull your shorts all the way down, tossing the garment carelessly over his shoulder.
you're left in your camisole and underwear. it's far less skin than you've shown sylus before, who's seen and memorized every little nook and cranny of your body, but you still feel the urge to squirm. to shy away from his touch and to hide from his eyes that nearly burns holes into your skin from the intensity of his stare.
but he doesn't give you the chance to do either when his hand flies to your inner thigh, slightly spreading your limbs apart.
âdon't go hiding on me now, sweetie.â his lips replace the hand on your thigh. the teeth that digs into your skin makes you whimper. ârelax, we've got all night.â
other times, he's overtaken by the carnal need to devour you whole.Â
he's got you pinned down on the mattress. the cool silk beneath a stark contrast to your flushed, heated skin. it serves as a reminder of how sylus can get you all hot and bothered with little effort.
you two have been going at it for what feels like hours, but it's barely been ten minutes since he dragged you from his office by the waist, the cookies you baked for him sitting long forgotten on his desk.
sylus pulls away, just enough to have you rising from the bed as your parted lips chase after him on instinct. he can feel the ghost of your lashes as your half lidded eyes flutter open.Â
you pout. sylus struggles to hold down the chuckle blooming from his chest.Â
"stop being mean.âÂ
"i don't know what you're talking about, sweetie." sylus acts innocent, but he's got a shit-eating grin on his face that lets you know he's messing with you. "am i not allowed to breathe?"
he says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. like he's never pushed you to the boundaries of how long a human being can last without oxygen. like he doesn't place a firm hand on the back of your head to keep you from catching your breath.
sylus full-on laughs when you turn away from him, shifting your body as much as his tight grip on your wrists will allow so that you're angled away from him.
cute. he thinks. did you really think he can be denied that easily?
sylus releases his hold on one of your wrists. his now free hand finds your chin, fingers lingering above skin for a moment before he uses just enough force to turn your head towards him.
you gasp. the tiny sound you make that's barely louder than a whisper travels straight down.
for half a second, you lock eyes. but you're determined to keep up this little charade despite the hand on your chin, eyes darting to look at anything but him.
âkitten,â he feels the way you squirm beneath, can almost feel the shiver running down your spine. âlook at me.â
with little hesitation, you will yourself to face him. and when your eyes find his, sylus wastes no time in capturing your lips between his own.
it's awfully pathetic, you think, the way you gasp for the second time in less than a minute. but you don't think you can pin the blame on yourself entirely when it's sylus.
sylus, who's rapidly starting to fill your senses, consuming you wholly. he's in each breath of air you take through your nose, a mix of leather and cedarwood fogging your mind. he's all you can ever think of tasting as his tongue works wonders inside your mouth.
hell, he's even in the back of your eyelids. a picture forever burned in your mind, a memory carved so deeply into your soul.
he slots himself between your legs, dragging one of his thighs up the sheets until it meets with your core.
sylus swallows each sound you make, from the quietest whimpers to the most shameless of moans, as he grinds his thigh against you. the muscle presses into you with pressure that's enough to drive you crazy, but not enough to send you careening over the edge.
 he knows this. of course he does. he notices it in the shortening of your breath, chest heaving and contracting deeply. in the frantic way in which your fingers travel across the large expanse of his back. in your soaked pajama shorts that's slowly seeping through the fabric of his pants.
âwhat's the matter?â and he'd be happy to give you more, to give you that push you need to reach blissful release. âtell me, sweetie, what do you want?â
only if you ask nicely.
âsy-â you manage between baited breaths. âplease, i- i need more.â
âiâm not sure i get what you mean. care to help a poor man out?â his pace relents, leaning forward in a mock curiosity. satisfaction courses through his veins when he hears you whine.
his pants are starting to strain uncomfortably, the last bits of his restrain wearing thin. he wants you, as much asâno, a lot more than you want him. but he wants to make sure you get your fill first.
it's you above everything, after all.
âsylus, i need you-â
âyou have me.â sylus presses against your clothed clit. âor is this not enough for you?â
you shake your head, desperate for release. âneed you inside, please.â
âwell,â he smirks, reaching down to move your underwear to the side before sliding right into your hole. the gasp that falls off your swollen lips is music to his ears as he starts rapidly thrusting two of his fingers in and out. âsince the kitten asked so nicely, who am i to deny her request?â
#might be a tiny bit ooc SAWRY#i kinda chickened out so its not like full on smut#i TRIED ok đ#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace#sylus x reader#sylus smut#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace smut
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Why do you do it?
The little voice in her head never left her alone.
Why do you torture yourself over and over again?
She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned, trying to drown out the noise.
You donât have to suffer like this. Just walk away.
âNo!â she shouted into her empty house. She curled into a ball on the floor, whimpering.
They wouldnât care. They barely notice you anymore. Itâs been almost two hundred years, Emmeline. Give up already.
She burst into tears, sobbing on her living room floor.Â
She didnât know how long she stayed like that, only that the shadows had moved a great deal when she finally sat up and wiped her tears.
Emmeline stood, hearing a knock on the door. When she went to answer it, she looked down and saw Jules, the youngest child of the current generation. He grinned up at her with the toothlessness of a six year old.
âMy mama letâth me come all by mythelf now!â he exclaimed proudly. He flung his little arms around Emmeline and gave her a tight hug. âI mithed you, Aunt Emma!âÂ
She knelt and hugged him back. âI missed you too, Jules. What are you doing here?â
Jules pulled away and looked at her gravely. âItâth a thecwet,â he said, trying very hard to not spoil the surprise. He only lasted a minute before he blurted, âYou have a biwthday pawty tonight!â
Emmeline looked surprised. âA birthday party? For me?â
He nodded eagerly. âThatâth why you got to come ovew to my houthe tonight!â
Emeline was stunned as she handed Jules a cookie and then sent him back home. She sat at the table and tried not to cry again, this time with happiness. They werenât forgetting her after all.
She looked over at the lone picture on her mantle and smiled at the young family in the picture. In the months after taking the photo, she had hidden it away, not liking it. She was blinking, her husband was looking at her instead of the camera, and her son was trying to walk away, held in place by only her arm. She had brought the photo back out the day after her husband died, needing to see his face again. They never had a chance to take another.
Emmeline grew to love the photo over the years, especially as her son grew and had children, and then they had children, and so on.
Jules looked so much like her son.
She wished they could have met.
You donât have to suffer. Just walk away.
âNo,â Emmeline said softly, hugging the picture. âThis is my home. This is my family.
âI will protect them.â
Most immortals become the angsty âeveryone I have ever loved is goneâ kind of immortal. You, on the other hand, instead took it upon yourself to be a loving presence to entire generations of your chosen family, because they are descended from someone you once loved long ago.
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L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)
ŕłâ⡠sypnosis; christmas hcâs
ŕłâ⡠warnings; none! pure fluff
ŕłâ⡠authorâs note; ho ho ho merry christmas idc if its nov its christmas time⌠do ppl drink on christmas? we do so idek? icl this is all like stuff i made up bcos i donât celebrate christmas like this but wtv we roll #wesoĹychĹwiÄ
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C. OLIVEIRA
do not let this man near the kitchen. everything that can go wrong goes WRONG
ask him to take something out the oven, he drops it. ask him to stir something in the bowl he stirs too vigorously and it goes flying all over the counters
heâs a pain. heâs distracting. constantly getting infront of you with the mistletoe, thinking heâs slick by trying to sneak in kisses. constantly sneaking bites of food whenever he thinks youâre not looking (you are, and you smack his hands away with a spoon)
one thing heâs actually good at and enjoys is cookie decorating. heâll make little gingerbread men of you two and make them so damn detailed. makes one for jill too, though with less care and her face ends up a bit⌠strange
heâs THAT person which is always ringing everyone, friends and family, wishing them a merry christmas and sends them stupid gifs slavic babcias love so much (if u dont know what i mean thenâšď¸)
LOVES the whole aspect of the christmas tree yet hates putting it together, it pisses him off to no end and half way through ends up calling you over to help him⌠definitely picks you up so that you can put the star on top
if he gets an ugly christmas sweater you best believe heâs wearing it for the full day, no shame
L. KENNEDY
depends which leon weâre talking about
younger leon puts in more effort, older leon genuinely canât be fucked to do much
walks around with a trash bag when everyoneâs opening presents so thereâs no mess on the floor
your guysâ house is literally the christmas function. every year. mostly due to you inviting everyone round and deciding to host it, much to leonâs annoyance but he doesnât mind THAT much since he loves you!!
definitely the best gift giver. for some damn reason he just knows what everyone wants, genuinely no explanation for it. he just does
heâs such a sweetheart, constantly asking you if you need help with anything in the kitchen or whether you need him to pop to the store for anything
he 100% sang carols when he was younger. just imagine 7 year old leon, hair gelled back, button up shirt, stood infront of the tv singing carols (lets pretend he didnât have all that trauma okay)⌠get him to sing again, he might cave once heâs drunk enough with chris
on the topic of chris, something ALWAYS happens when the pair have had a few and arenât sober any longer. something always gets broken for some reason
one year, they randomly got up and started dancing. leon went flying into the christmas tree and took it down with him.
i hc him as having a rather large sweet tooth, so heâs always down for some cookie decorating! itâs rather sloppy and they end up looking questionable most of the time, but he ends up eating half of them before heâs even fully finished decorating so thatâs not much of a problem anyways
C. REDFIELD
santa. need i say more?
nag him constantly to wear a santa outfit or atleast a santa hat. he will cave eventually
DEFINITELY gets a wallet for christmas every damn year without fail, yet doesnât even use the damn wallets
him in the kitchen helping you out is definitely⌠something. he doesnât know how to measure - what the fuck is a cup?
you asked him to help you out and stuff the turkey. he walked out the kitchen.
gets claire shitty gifts on purpose but then gives her her ACTUAL gift. theyâre siblings after all, he canât help it, old habits die hard
hates decorating the outside of the house. itâs his nightmare. all the stupid lights, just no
goes CRAZY on your gift. itâs like a little reward for all the effort you go through every year, and itâs always something you wanted badly and doesnât fail to put a smile on your face
heâs not necessarily a fan of sweet things, but hot chocolate? thatâs a completely different story entirely, you end up having to send him to buy milk since he drank the whole damn carton and thereâs none left by the time you get around to actually preparing for dinner
like leon, sits there with a trash bag. he gives such dad vibes i canât stop imagining it
him and leon ultimate christmas duo after a few drinks. all of a sudden chris is in the biggest christmas spirit ever and canât get last christmas out his head
best thing is? heâs not even too big on christmas. he actually celebrates it just because of you, what a sweetheart
#ŕłââˇ. olkaâs bs#resident evil#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy x reader#chris redfield#chris redfield x reader#carlos oliveira#carlos oliveira x reader#resident evil 4#resident evil 5#resident evil 3
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Sooo, I have a thought from an ask i saw about yandere beasts towards the ancients...
What if the Beasts became yandere towards YOU instead?
Although, the Ancients have the same feeling too, which may lead to high tensions in the air.
What would YOU in that scenario?
-A Self-Aware/Yandere lover Anon
Wait, me? Me specifically? Merchant? The person answering this ask? That's certainly an interesting thought...
If the Beasts became yanderes towards me, then I would fucking panic lol. I don't condone this kind of behavior irl, it's fun to write fictional crazy people but nobody wants to endure ACTUAL crazy people. Stalkers are sick and dangerous and need to be put away, and it's a damn shame it's not taken seriously by law enforcement anywhere (not until it escalates to violence, anyway, unfortunately)
With that said, let's terrorize Merchant for a little bit
IF THE BEASTS ARE STILL JUST COOKIES:
Step on them immediately, they're like 3 inches tall wait, would that work? They have powers and are crazy strong. What can they actually do against humans? Would stepping on them just break my fucking foot?
Send my dog after them no wait, I don't want them to hurt my dog. I love my dog very much. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him. I'd never forgive myself if I let him try to eat them and he just got turned into flour or something
Pour milk on them ONE OF THEM IS MADE OF MILK ALREADY GODDAMN IT
Hide the box of cookies I like to get from the store, because they probably wouldn't appreciate the fact that I love to eat cookies (they're just like this đŞ but still)
Try to trap them in the fridge momentarily, hope they don't destroy my nice fridge
Make a deal where they are allowed to live in and explore my house provided they damage nothing and hurt no one
Give them head scratches (especially Spice, his head looks Very Scratchable)
Give them tiny little kisses if they behave themselves (however, if I give one a kiss, I have to give them ALL kisses, or else the other 4 will retaliate against me out of jealousy)
I will also allow them to sit on my shoulders if they behave themselves and don't try to yank on my hair or my ears or something
Wait, do cookies know what sex is? Are they capable of sexual feelings? If so, how do they deal with them? Do they have the... equipment for that? WHAT IF THEY TRY TO HUMP MY FINGERS OR SOMETHING OH GOD-
Contact federal authorities and hope that they believe me when I say superpowered talking cookies are in my house, so they can come take them away and perhaps experiment on them
Probably never sleep again because there's a batch of little satanic cookies in my house that all want to fuck me for some reason (I'm ugly and a normie, wtf did I do to deserve this đ)
IF THE BEASTS ARE HUMAN:
immediate death
panic x10000000000
I hc Spice as being at least 6'5''/198cm and 200+/90+ lbs/kg so I'm cooked 7 ways to Sunday just with him
Seriously I'm just a short nerd irl. Assuming they still have their powers, my life is literally over
Do everything in my power to convince them all my loved ones are dead so they don't go harm them out of jealousy (ESPECIALLY my SO, God have mercy, I'll probably have to tell him to go hide in his home country for a while)
Try to barricade myself in a church, hope that the "demons cannot set foot on hallowed ground/in God's house" rule applies to them, beg God to save my sorry ass while they try to break in and drag me back out
Can't call the cops because A) stalking and harassment are not taken seriously by police, B) they won't believe me when I say that 5 supervillains are trying to kidnap and marry me, C) by the time they realize I'm telling the truth, they will already have been hanged/put into a coma/beheaded/turned to flour/cut up into salt cubes
I actually only like men irl so I am in deep trouble with Flour and Sugar especially
Try to flee the country (probably won't work but I'll try anyway and hope they don't get too mad about it), hide out in the Yukon or some bumfuck nowhere village in Russia, I'd rather face a polar bear than these guys
Probably still be forced to let them live in my house in exchange for peace and obedience
...I don't know if tiny head scratches and kisses would cover it this time
Hope that they're all possessive enough to only harass me one at a time, instead of... more than one at a time, because that counts as sharing and yanderes don't really like doing that
Try to pit them against each other constantly. If they're too focused on arguing about who I belong to or whatever, then they can't focus on tormenting me
Would like to try to stab or shoot them but idk if conventional weaponry works on them at all
If I HAD TO pick one to say yes to, it would be Burning Spice. He is sexy af. Then, hopefully, I can weaponize this and get him to defend me from the others
IF THE ANCIENTS LIKED ME TOO, BUT WERE NORMAL:
Yay, sanity. I'll tell them to PLEASE get the Beasts away from me. They can sort out whatever they feel towards me later, we've got a bigger problem on our hands than that
COOKIES: I will keep them safe in my house under the same conditions as the Beasts: behave and do not harm anyone or anything
HUMANS: Look, can I just... send them back? How did any of these guys get here, anyway? Can I please just shove them back through the portal or whatever they used to get here? Even if I wasn't taken, I don't think I'd have the strength or patience to put up with anyone's shit. Can we just be friends? I'd love to be friends. I need a mom friend like Hollyberry in my life
If necessary, I am picking Dark Cacao. Seriously, I love my big, strong men. Merchant is a basic bitch at heart lol
IF THE ANCIENTS WERE YANDERES TOO:
Are you fucking kidding me
Am still picking Cacao, fuck all of you
#cookie run kingdom#burning spice cookie#golden cheese cookie#shadow milk cookie#silent salt cookie#hollyberry cookie#dark cacao cookie#mystic flour cookie#eternal sugar cookie#white lily cookie#pure vanilla cookie#yandere beasts
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Heisenberg comfort HCs, anyone?
I've been feeling really down and out these last few days so I've been thinking about this silly steel man to make myself feel better.
Heisenberg is VERY observantâIâd go so far as to say heâs hyper observant. Heâll know something isnât right likely before you do. He may not say anything right away, but heâs going to keep an eye on you.
Karl is someone who knows what itâs like to be stuck in your own head, and how shitty it is. He also knows how awful it feels (though heâd never admit it) to feel like that and feel like that alone. He never wants you to feel that way, alone.Â
He also knows that thinking about it makes it worse, but he will try and see if he can figure out whatâs wrong. Itâll be something casual. âTalk to me, kid. Whatâs goinâ through that head of yours? Canât be anything good if youâre all down like this.â The only exception to this is if youâre in a REALLY bad place, then heâs going to be much more urgent. If he canât get it out, heâll grab a pen and paper and have you write what you can.
If he canât get the issue out of you (which he will not push you about it), heâs kinda stuck. He doesnât totally know what to do, since he doesnât really do anything to help himself. He just pushes it away and focuses on something else, letting his mind get buried in whatever heâs doing until he forgets about the issue. That being said, he NEVER wants you to do that. He may do it, but you sure as hell wonât.
Heisenberg will not change anything about how he acts around you when you feel that way. It isnât because he doesnât care, but rather that he doesnât want to make you feel babied or less than because of how youâre feeling. Youâre a tough cookie, heâs going to make sure you feel like one, even if youâre crumbled from time to time.Â
Being as observant as he is, he knows what makes you happy and makes you feel better (even a little), even if he fucking HATES it. If it helps, youâre getting it. Even if itâs wine, heâll trudge to Castle Dimitrescu himself and get it. Heâll definitely bitch about it, but itâll never be around you. Heâll bitch on the way there or take it out on Alcina.Â
If youâre shaking a lot, or youâre moving a bunch, heâll give you something to tinker with, even if itâs broken or defunct. If youâre angry and need to break things, heâs already made you a version of his hammer that you can lift and just tells you âYou know where to go.â Hell, heâll probably go with you and do it too (but also to make sure you donât hurt yourself).
Heâll definitely try and give you some words of encouragement in his own way. It may be something simple like, âDonât let this destroy you, kiddo.â to something a bit deeper (depending on how you feel), like âYouâll get through this, buttercup. Youâre stronger than you give yourself credit for. Youâre going to outlive that bitch Miranda, and youâre going to be just fine. Got it? Good.â
Once you feel better, heâs not going to bring that incident up again, unless itâs something ongoing or something really serious, but he will check in with you to see how youâre feeling after that. âYou ready to get back in the game, kid? Good to hear. Wasted a lot of precious time picking your ass up out of the dirt."
#karl heisenberg#resident evil village#resident evil 8#re8#re8 village#character headcanons#comfort headcanons
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Love Game in Eastern Fantasy, ep 19-20
Miao Miao is still defending Zi Qi and protecting his secret about being a demon. Despite the bracelet she still wants to go to him and check on him
Fu Yi and Zi Qi bonding over heartbreak is funny yet sad
Miao Miao is completely torn about wanting to stay to take care of Zi Qi and leaving. She eventually only left because others convinced her. But that was still not enough. She was able to break away to go back to him even if she cannot explain why. The bracelet cannot completely break their bond. She knows she's lost something
Maybe it's his sister, but I still think it huge for Zi Qi to admit that he likes Miao Miao. He sure sobered up quick
Poor Cui Cui being betrayed by the humans
Princess, how many more times can Fu Yi say no? I don't like you but honestly, RESPECT yourself. You know he does not love you
Well I guess I need to give some credit Ruo Shi. When he found out about the bracelet, he did go her and take it off. Even though I still firmly believe he should have questioned why she she agreed in the first place. And only did it because he thought she'd stay so I don't know how much credit I should give him. At the same time he didn't stop so he can have a cookie.
Once the bracelet was off, everything about Zi Qi came back to Miao Miao and all she wanted was to see him
How Zi Qi decorated her room was so pretty and she knew that he did it all for her. I love the dust demons in the bubbles
I love how despite the bracelet she was able to write how she felt about Zi Qi.
I adored her throwing herself into his arms and the absolute shock on his face when she did. He just leans into her and holds her tight She said she was sorry, and he forgives her. 99% affection!
I do hope they address the bracelet though at some point
The Four Bamboo Masters back together. They are a team and I like the touch of them wearing the little badges
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Hh.. a puppwy regressor Dazai and kwity Chuuywa having a lil plway date while one iz regressed older to makwe sure nothing gwo wrong ૮ . ତ . áŕš
I find puppy regressor Dazai to be hilarious since he hates dogs so much- Silly little puppy doesnât know what heâs saying! Or maybe he says he hates them to hide that he is oneâŚ
Puppy Regressor Dazai + Kitty Regressor Chuuya
đ đ đ đ đ
⤠I think Chuuya would regress slightly older! I think Dazaiâs age range is around 2-5 while Chuuyaâs is 3-6, so thereâs gonna be times where Dazai is the big kid for sure! But most of the time itâs gonna be Chuuya hehe, so weâll go with that! Younger puppy Dazai just wants to play play play! Chuuya likes playing of course! But the puppy can be so messy and reckless⌠At least one of them needs to be responsible here!
đŻ They usually have play dates at Chuuyaâs house. Chuuya has so much more space and more toys! And more snacks⌠Everything is better at Chuuyaâs house! They play very differently though⌠Chuuya will roll one of his balls to Dazai, wanting to pass it back and forth, but then Dazai picks it up and runs off! And Chuuya doesnât even chase him! Chuuya just meows at him until he brings it back, then bats it to Dazai again! Puppy understands eventually. Chuuya also doesnât like to wrestle! So rude. Dazai will pounce onto him and roll around and Chuuya just hisses at him and scampers off. But Chuuya will come back and bat at Dazai, so he definitely doesnât totally hate it
ᥣđŠŕžŕ˝˛ŕžŕ˝˛ Blanket beds! Chuuyaâs like entire living room is just blankets when theyâre having a play date. Maybe heâd even get a beanbag! Super soft and good for laying in! Chuuya takes time to make it nice and perfect then heâll lay down purring, soaking up the sun. Then Dazai comes in! Dazai hops right into the blankets bed and rolls around, digging up the blankets, making a mess of it all! Once Dazai gets himself comfy though Chuuya will remake it around him and then maybe even go snuggle up next to Dazai! Theyâre sooooo cute when they sleep together
⤠Dazaiâs just a little pup, so he needs to ask for Chuuyaâs help a whole lot! Chuuya preps things before he regresses so itâs nice and easy! Heâll always have a bowl of water, usually with a straw nearby for Dazai! Maybe heâd even get a little water fountain ૮â´˜⢠. ⢠â
âá Chuuya also bakes cookies and cuts them into little bone shapes to look like dog treats! He hides them someplace to give them to Dazai! Only when heâs super good though hehe. Puppy loves his treats! I think specifically Dazai would like peanut butter cookies! Or pumpkin, I feel like both fit
đŻ Lots of fish! Chuuya likes seafood because kitty cats love fish! And Dazai loves crab like in canon. So crab is a go to meal during playdates! Both of them are more than happy to have some crab on a plate and eat! Maybe theyâll put on some cartoons or something, always about animals! Cats and dogs specifically of course hehe. Silly animal brains canât fully focus, but what they do understand of the cartoons is really nice!
ᥣđŠŕžŕ˝˛ŕžŕ˝˛ Most of the time though their go to thing to watch is windows! Chuuya likes watching birds hehe, Dazai watches people! Heâll start whining and pawing at the glass sometimes, other times heâll get sooo excited! Fully body shaking and heâll start barking happily! Chuuya very much so dislikes this and heâll hiss, backing away from Dazai but not away from the window. He still wants to watch the birds! Duh
⤠Chuuya has a few balls or robotic mice that heâll play with and chase around. Dazai always tried playing with his toys though! And silly puppy is way to rough with the kitty cats toys⌠So Chuuya bought him some chew toys! Dazai will happily munch on his own toys, watching Chuuya dart around to play, but not giving chase! Heâs very proud of himself, the bestest of good boys. Chuuya is just pleased he can play in peace
đŻ How they show affection to each other! I think Chuuya mainly just does little head butts. Like heâll ram his head into Dazaiâs side, meow at him slightly, then just curl up next to the pup. Dazai bites! Nom nom nom. Itâs affectionate bites! Heâs always super careful not to hurt Chuuya of course. And heâll do play bows! Barking happily and trying to pounce on the kitty! Chuuya is not a fan of this kind of affection
đ đ đ đ đ
I hope you can enjoy Ren! Ren is suuuuch a good boy everyone! /á > Ë <ă âËâšâĄ Hehe everyone have a great day/night!
#agere#age regression#safe agere#sfw agere#agere sfw#age regressor#agere little#bsd#bsd agere#sfw petre#pet regressor#pet regression#safe age regression#agere positivity#sfw age regression#age regression sfw#age regressing#bsd dazai#bsd chuuya#bungo stray dogs#dazai osamu
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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.
âSignal, I need a solid answer, is the Batmobile compromised?â
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.
âB,â Duke said as he put on his helmet, âI 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.â with that Duke jumped into the passenger seat and quietly said, âget in the backâ to Danny.
Batman got into the driver's seat not a second after Danny teleported into the back seats.
âI will trust that you will give a full report Signal.â
âOâcourse B, but let's go save Red.â
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.
âRed 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.â
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
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dpxdc#dcxdp#Poor Danny is getting dragged all over the place#Tim is having a hell of a time#Will Duke get benched?#Will he have to give all his cookies away?#Find out in a later chapter of Haunted Car Au!#probably going to change the name to 'Grand Theft Kidnapping' or something else witty..... its a title in progress
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@lamentationsofalonelypotato Ooh yay!! I'm still loving this story, and after the last chapter, I've been very eager to see what happens next!
The aftermath of her trying to piece together her memories of her parents' death and her brother's betrayal is so heartbreaking. đĽ Like she's realizing that the narrative of her life was a lie, in a way. Hopefully she'll be able to reclaim the part of her past that was good and true with her parents, vs. the love and care she still has in her life through the people around her.
For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost⌠helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question⌠why? Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?
Lol GIRL. You KNOW WHY. You're just refusing to see it! But I could really see this moment in my head like a movie -- that look on Ben's face, watching her walk away. đ
That little creature she created is interesting though. You really get a sense that she tapped into something in her powers that was before yet unexplored -- like she broke through a barrier without realizing and unlocked new depths within herself.
You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be. He's really not the best at that.
Loll he's really not. But the thing about Ben is, when he does make those gestures, you know it's coming from a place of sincerity because he doesn't soften himself easily.
"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."
Aww I love her grandmother so much! At least someone in her family is in her corner. đ
There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.
I think we ALL know who you meant. đ
I also love how you describe the "creative chaos" of her grandmother's house. The imagery in those paragraphs are so descriptive and lovely to imagine. I love especially: "boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter." It's so grandmotherly and yet feels unique at the same time.
"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."
OOOOOH, MY GOD!! GRANDMA'S A SUPE TOO!! đąđą And it explains why Ben got there in the nick of time! And she already knew Darren was scum!!
Discovering more about her past as Soothsayer, as well as her friendship with Ben was so very interesting! I didn't see it coming and that's the best thing of all, but now it's a way her grandmother can relate to her even more -- as well as be in an even better position to give her advice when it comes to that man.
Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."
Heart...breaking... đ˘ She's such a sweetheart. How can she not realize how much she cares about him (loves him)?
"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything." "He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."
GRANDMA YESSSS, TELL HER!!! GET IT THROUGH HER HEAD! lolll
Ben isn't incapable of fear (or love), no matter how much he'd like to pretend. The way it comes out of him might "look different," through snappish anger and denial and rigidity, but it's still fear.
But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back." But he wasn't sure.
Awww Benjamin, you're breaking my heart! đ But the fact that he went back to save Jake honestly speaks volumes! (Even if I did cackle my ass off at "What a fucking pussy.")
Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.
Come on now, Ben. You're over 100 years old! Surely you get what's happening to you by now! đ¤Łđ¤Ł You're simping for a girl you care about!
He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.
Oooh the plants are keeping her young, huh? đ Maybe enough to sync up her lifespan with Ben's???
"Di?" "Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks. "Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.
LMFAOO. Again, I love her. Kick his ass, Di! Get him in gear! "Try harder" -- INDEED.
"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"
I'm deeeeeadd! I loved this line so much. đ¤Łđ¤Łđ¤Ł Benjamin is testing my patience too, good Lord. I can see why he's scared. He's on the verge of admitting he loves her -- and finally doing something about it. After his experience with Countess, that'll put anyone off of trying again to delve into a proper relationship (not to say their relationship was a proper example of a loving one, because it wasn't, obviously). Especially for someone like Ben, who struggles with real intimacy and dealing with his feelings, it makes sense that he'd digging his heels in now -- no matter how frustrating it is. đđ
But omg the cliffhanger though! Who just called him? My gut feeling is Stan Edgar, but I could be wrong lol. Can't wait to see how you close out this series! đ
Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV
Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope
Word Count: 13.1K
Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you donât like, donât read, but if you do like, youâre my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.
Reader POV
You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.
The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.
But you didn't notice any of it.
The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.
The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.
For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost⌠helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question⌠why?
Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?
The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning itâs head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.
You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants⌠it scared you.
You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.
You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.
You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.
You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this⌠home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.
And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.
The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didnât want to.
It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.
The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.
It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.
The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.
A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.
It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.
"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."
The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, itâs Ben.
The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.
Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.
But what would I say?
You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.
He's really not the best at that.
You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.
Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.
What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.
Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-
You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.
Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.
For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.
The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.
The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.
When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.
The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.
The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.
The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didnât want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.
Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.
It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.
The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.
Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue DarrenâŚ
You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.
Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.
You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.
"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."
Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.
You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.
Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.
Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.
Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop. It was overwhelming.
And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.
The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.
You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.
The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.
It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.
There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.
"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.
The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.
It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.
"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.
The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.
You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.
Damn it Darren.
"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."
The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten sinceâŚ
Darren.
You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.
Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.
Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.
The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.
He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.
"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice
You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.
"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.
She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.
You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.
"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"
You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.
I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told herâŚ
"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.
An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."
"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."
"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.
What's going on?
"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."
"What?"
Is she saying what I think she's saying?
Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.
Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.
You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.
When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.
"I probably should have told you this a while ago, butâŚ" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."
The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.
Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.
Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.
But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.
She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.
"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"
She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."
"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"
Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.
"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."
Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.
"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.
"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.
Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.
She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.
"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."
There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."
"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"
She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."
"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"
Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."
You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"
Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't sayâŚ
"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."
You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.
She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."
"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"
Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."
It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.
I shouldnât have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.
"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."
"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.
Well. We're friends, but that's different.
The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.
I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.
"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. âThe future is never set in stone, itâs fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didnât want to lose that.â
Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.
Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.
You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.
"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."
"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.
"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didnât look that way. Heâs never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."
She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldnât be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.â Her jaw sets. âMy powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldnât ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.â
And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.
âYou didnât talk to him ever again?â You wonder out loud.
She left without telling him goodbye?
âThere was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.â She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. âI always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.â
âBut what about Nicaragua?"
A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. âI saw what they were going to do to him.â
âWhat? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"
"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and Iâll regret it for the rest of my life.â
You could feel your heart breaking for her.
Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.
The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.
âDoes Ben know?â You ask her to distract yourself.
You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.
She nods. âYes. I told him everything.â
âWhen?â
âThe moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldnât keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."
âWas he mad?â
I mean⌠he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.
âNot at me.â She shakes her head. âHe knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesnât blame me for any of it.â
âGood. I canât believe you didnât tell me.â
The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.
âI didnât want to until you were ready.â
âAnd when would that be?â
Your grandmother shrugs. âMaybe on my deathbed.â
You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.
 You snort. âAnd no one knew?â
âYour dad figured it out.â
âHow? When?â
âThe moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.â She shakes her head with a smile. âIt skipped a generation. Donât know why, but you got it all somehow.â
âI was never injected?â
âNo. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."
âDarren thought I was.â
âI know.â
At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.
âDid you see everything that happened?â You ask in a small voice.
You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.
âYes.â
âYou heard everything Darren said?"
âYes.â
You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. âDid you know that he killed them?â
âNo.â She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. âThe night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.â Her voice breaks.
âItâs not your fault.â You squeeze her hand.
âAnd itâs not yours either.â She squeezes your hand back.
The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.
âI know.â You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. âI didnât know that I could do something like that.â You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. âI feel so different and I donât know how to go back to the way I was.â
âI donât think you ever will.â
"Really?"
The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.
She frowns. âWhen you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didnât want that life for you, didnât want you to suffer the way I did-â
âWas it really that bad?"
âNot all the time, just at the end. But I think thatâs why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-â She shrugs. âI think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when youâre surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that theyâre gods itâs easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."
âGreat." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.
As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.
Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."
Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.
You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.
âNo.â She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. âI donât see you losing yourself in this.â
âYouâve seen-â Your eyes widen.
âThe future yeah.â Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. âIt is what I do.â
âThatâs so weird.â
You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.
Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.
âYou of all people have no right to judge whatâs weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.â
"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.
You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. âI donât like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I donât-â The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. âI donât know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-â
âThereâs nothing wrong with not being in control.â
âBut what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-â You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.
âYour powers are growing and thereâs nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If youâre afraid of them it wonât get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.â
"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"
"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."
"But-"
"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."
Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.
Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."
"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.
She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"
You shake your head.
"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."
"I don't love him." You say it immediately.
"Why not?"
"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"
"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.
"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"
"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.
"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.
"You don't?"
"Gran!"
"What? He's attractive."
"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"
"He has." She interrupts.
"What?"
"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."
"Why does that matter?"
"Because he loved her."
The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."
That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.
"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"
"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."
"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."
What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.
"I already told you what I'm afraid of."
"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.
"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."
"Wait-"
"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"
You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.
"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.
"Okay."
And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.
Soldier Boy POV
There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.
His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.
He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.
Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.
You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.
Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.
But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."
But he wasn't sure.
Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.
His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.
His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.
Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.
Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."
When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.
I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.
As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.
Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.
Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.
The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.
Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadnât wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.
It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.
But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.
Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.
Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.
He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.
When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.
And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.
Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.
He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.
Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.
But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.
No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."
Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.
He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.
Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.
Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.
As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it.Â
"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.
"Di?"
"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.
"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.
As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.
Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."
Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.
And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.
It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.
"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.
"About what?"
"My granddaughter."
Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"
"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.
Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good. That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.
That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.
The thought that home wasn't with him.
Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didnât hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.
"No, not good."
"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.
"No."
"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.
"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"
Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.
"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.
"Yes you do!" Diana presses.
"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.
âIf you were any denser youâd be a Bundt cake Benjamin!â She says exasperated.
"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"
âLet me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "Youâre moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."
Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.
âIâm not fucking moping and stop spying on me!â He snaps back at Diana.
He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.
âI donât have to use my powers to know what youâre doing. I know you Ben.â
"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.â Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. âBut if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-â
âYou avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.â She interrupts.
She certainly hasn't changed.
âI am not avoiding-â
âShe needs you here Ben.â Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.
âShe doesnât need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didnât want to be here with me! I tried to-â Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didnât need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.
That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.
He didnât want to and he wasn't sure why that was.
âTry harder.â Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.
Ben clenches his jaw. âI think that youâve confused me with someone else baby.â
âDonât you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that youâre doing what you always do when things get hard for you.â
âAnd whatâs that?â
âYou pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.â
âShe doesnât care about me!â He spits.
âShe does!â Diana snaps back. âAnd believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.â
"But-"
"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."
"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"
Wait what?
"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"
He hesitates.
Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.
Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.
Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldnât admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldnât imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.
It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.
Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didnât want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.
Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.
"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.
Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.
"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."
"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.
She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.
"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.
"She doesn't."
"Why don't you believe me?"
"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-â
"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"
"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.
"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"
Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."
She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.â Diana repeats. âAnd I think you need her too.â
His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. âI donât need anyone. Iâm Sol-â
âIf you say that youâre Soldier Boy, Iâm going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.â She snaps. âAnd you do need her, but youâre still just too stubborn to admit it.â
âI-â
âBen I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-â Diana pauses before she changes the thought. âYou say that you know sheâs different, but right now youâre treating her the same way you treat all those other women.â
âIâm not-â
âMy granddaughter has decided youâre important to her and once thatâs happened itâs hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.â
âI-â
âStop making excuses!â
âYou didnât even hear what I was going to say!â Ben shouts.
âAnd I donât need to! Think what you want Ben but if youâd stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to whatâs right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.â
âDonât go all fucking mystical on me doll.â
âAnd donât go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.â She retorts. âDonât fuck this up Benjamin because if you do Iâll fuck you up.â
The line goes dead.
Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.
No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.
Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.
And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didnât understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.
As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.
But why do I feel like-
His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.
"Di I-"
But it's not Diana.
"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.
"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.
 "I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.â
A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. đ¤đ We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!
As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. đ
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birds of a feather // cl16
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
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
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 chĂŠri!"
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 plaĂŽt." 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."HervĂŠ!âÂ
"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 chĂŠrie 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 poupĂŠe? 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.Â
"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 MonĂŠgasque 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 chĂŠrie! Plus you remember me talking about your uncle HervĂŠ? 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 HervĂŠ 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." HervĂŠ 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 manquĂŠ 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 manquĂŠ." 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 â 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. Iâll 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.Â
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."
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
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! Iâm 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 Iâd 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.Â
Him forgetting about you.Â
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 youâve always got me and Iâve 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 wonât 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.Â
Itâs not puberty or the ever revolving drama that comes with being thirteen that is making it a weird year. Itâs the embarrassingly painful crush youâve got on Charles.Â
Itâs a cliche really, having a crush on the cute older boy youâve grown up with.Â
And one might ask why is it embarrassing? For starters, you canât 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? Youâre dead.Â
He doesnât know heâs turning your thirteen year old brain into mush just by simply existing and itâs embarrassing to even think about him knowing that.Â
On the other hand, itâs painful. Youâre thirteen and heâs sixteen, once again at very different stages in life. And you know that he doesnât like you back, that he only sees you as a little sister, but it still hurts. It hurts because youâre thirteen and you think that youâre mature for your age and you honestly think why wouldnât he like you back. Itâs something almost every young girl goes through, and unfortunately itâs happening to you with someone you are very close with.Â
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. Okayâ so maybe that's how you would describe him now, but still, he was a cute kid also, there was no denying that.Â
 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.  Â
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
The holidays in Monaco were somewhat different than the few years you remembered back in America. You had stopped celebrating Thanksgiving after your Momâs failed attempt at trying to make a Thanksgiving dinner your first year here. It wasnât 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 wasnât the same without that damn Ocean Spray cranberry sauce.Â
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.Â
It wasnât 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.Â
And as if decorating wasnât 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.Â
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!âs Last Christmas when you heard your Mom speak up. âYouâre just in time Charles.âÂ
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.Â
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 didnât last long, you had caught him picking his nose, and with that went away any feelings you had towards him.Â
You didnât 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. âWhereâs Arthur?âÂ
Charles' attention was torn away from your Mom over to you. He pursed his lips, he didnât know how to say nicely that Arthur said that baking Christmas cookies was for little kids, and he wasnât a little kid anymore. He let out a sigh before speaking. âHeâs not coming, he said heâs too old to be baking cookies.â
âBut its-âÂ
âI know. I told him that itâs tradition and that you would be upset, but he wasnât budging. So youâre stuck with just me.âÂ
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, heâs not allowed any of the cookies when your families have Christmas together tomorrow evening.Â
On the bright side you get to have some one on one time with Charles, so maybe it was a blessing in disguiseâ Arthur bailing on you. You picked up the recipe card from the counter, waving it around in the air. âWell letâs get to work then.âÂ
Charles is at your side in an instant, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater as he waits for further instruction.Â
âDo you think you kids can handle doing it by yourselves this year? Iâve got some last minute gifts that need to be wrapped.â Your Mom inquired, hopeful that you wouldnât burn the house down on Christmas Eve.Â
You didnât even look up at her, eyes focused on the recipe in front of you, this was clearly something you took seriously. âYes Mom.âÂ
Without a word she was gone, leaving Charles and you to your own devices.Â
You can feel Charles peering over your shoulder. Heâs 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 youâre trying not to make this seem like a big deal, because itâs truly not, but something has shifted in your thirteen year old brain. The same brain being scrambled by him right now, and you think youâve read the damn recipe card at least ten times now.Â
âDid you forget that the recipe is in American measuring terms?â Charles asks. The recipe was your Grandmaâs and your Mom had never been bothered to convert it to the metric system.Â
âNope, just double checking everything.â 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.Â
You dug through the pile of cookie cutters looking for Charles favorite one. âHerree it isss.â 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.Â
A grin spread across his face as you placed it in his hand. âWouldnât be Christmas without this guy.â 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.Â
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. âYou know you still call her Mom?â
Your eyebrows furrowed at Charles' random statement. âHuh?âÂ
He walked away from the oven and back to his original spot next to you. âYou still call your Maman Mom.âÂ
âYes?â You werenât really sure where he was going with this, it was nothing new to either of you.Â
âI just figured by now you would have made the switch. You speak French with everyone else.âÂ
You shrugged your shoulders at him, you had never really considered it, the idea felt weird even just thinking about it now. âIâve always spoken English with my Mom and French with Papa. It would feel weird to switch stuff around now.â You stirred in the flour as you continued the conversation. âYou know I could give you some English lessons if youâd like. I think that might have been what you were hinting at.â You teased.Â
Charles' eyes widened at your words. âAre you saying my English is not good? I think I speak English very good!âÂ
âWell.â You didnât skip a beat.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âYou think you speak English very w-âÂ
In an instant there is flour all over the upper part of your body, your movements stilled as youâre processing what Charles had just done. Youâre mad at first, actually seething because your hair looked so good today and now itâs covered in flour. And you canât see Charles because you havenât 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 youâre actually really pissed at him, but when he hears his nickname come past your lips he knows you're not that mad at him.Â
âCharlie. You better run.âÂ
He isnât sure heâs 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.Â
As Charles rounds the corner again his foot catches on one of the barstool legs and you know youâve finally got him. He doesnât 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 heâs going to do, but you canât 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 heâs transferred a good amount from his clothes onto yours. âCharles! Let me go!â Your pleas are pitiful, laughter dripping off every word.Â
âOh my god!âÂ
Both of your eyes widen, bodies frozen at the sound of your Momâs less than pleased voice. The two of you sheepishly stood there as your Mom looks like sheâs about ready to cry and cuss you out at the same time. âI canât leave you two alone for an hour?!â Her eyes shift to behind the two of you, panic written across her face. Sheâs practically running towards the oven and thatâs when you realize the burning smell. And when she not so softly sets the cookie sheet onto the counter you know sheâs really not happy. The cookies were burnt to a crisp, the poor Santa hat penguin never stood a chance. âIâm sorry Y/M/N. It was my fault, I started it.â Charles rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.Â
âI donât care who started it because youâre both cleaning up this mess.â 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.Â
When you knew she was out of earshot you couldnât but let out a little giggle, it was like in school when you werenât 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.Â
That night you couldnât sleep, tossing and turning in your bed, your brain would not shut off. And it wasnât because you were excited for Christmas morning, you only wished that was the reason. You couldnât 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.Â
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?Â
Christmas morning came and went and before you knew it evening had arrived, meaning the Leclercâs would be arriving soon. You were in charge of setting the table, a task you didnât 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 Leclercâs arriving. You spotted Pascale struggling to juggle all the presents and you hurried towards her, quick to offer a hand. âMerci chĂŠri.â A grateful smile painted across her face.
The pile of presents grows as you place them under the tree and youâd think your family hadnât 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 youâve scurried into the kitchen. Youâd rather face the unwarranted wrath from your Mom than be unable to compose yourself around Charles. But you donât get to hide in the kitchen for very long because sheâs 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.Â
Dinner is pretty uneventful and luckily your Dad has Charles preoccupied with racing talk for most of the time. But you canât 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.Â
âAre you mad at me for yesterday?â Charles' voice is low, like he didnât 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.Â
You cocked an eyebrow at him. âWhy would I be mad at you?âÂ
âYouâve been avoiding me all day.âÂ
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 wasnât because you were mad. It was actually the opposite, but you couldnât tell him that. âIâm not mad at you. Just didnât want there to be another flour fiasco today. You thought she was mad yesterday, now imagine that while sheâs in her holiday cooking zone.â You give him a reassuring smile, hoping that heâs bought what youâve told him. But he doesnât get the chance to respond as your Momâs voice fills the room.Â
âOk does everyone have all their presents? Our Santa this year was less than enthusiastic about handing out the presents.â Your Mom shoots Arthur a look as he sits down on the floor across from Charles and you.Â
âThere is nothing left under the tree. I promise.â Arthur states.Â
âAlright then everyone get after it!âÂ
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. Youâre always so grateful for everything the Leclercâs get you for Christmas, they treat you like one of their own, and sometimes you feel they spoil you a little too much.Â
With each present that you unwrapped that wasnât from Charles, you start to get a little worried. You guys exchanged presents every year and if he didnât get you something this year, you think you might die. So when you come to your last present and it says itâs from his parents, you try to hide your disappointment, especially because itâs an amazing gift. You hop up from your spot on the floor and make sure to go thank them personally, hugs and all. And youâre pretty sure you hear them say something about how youâre their daughter too and how you deserve it, but your brain is still thinking about how Charles didnât get you anything.Â
When you go back to your spot a little perfectly wrapped box with a bow on it is sitting there. You know you werenât sitting on that, so it had to be placed there after you got up. You think itâs 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 whatâs inside.Â
âDid you think I didnât get you anything?â Charles questions, a smirk toying at his lips.Â
âMaybe.â Yes.Â
âI would never.â He bumps his shoulder into yours, motioning for you to open it. âWell, go on. What are you waiting for?âÂ
You donât want to seem like you're absolutely ripping into the present, but it probably looks like you are. Itâs a tiny box, like one used for jewelry, and you really arenât 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. Itâs 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.Â
But when you pick the ring up from the box you see exactly why itâs 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, heâs holding out his pinky finger, a matching ring adorning it. Your cheeks are hurting from how hard you're smiling, but you donât care. Itâs 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 thatâs possible. Your arms are around Charles instantly, pulling him in towards you, thank youâs tumbling out of your mouth as he giggles in response.Â
âIâm glad you like it.â He pauses, trying to figure out the right words to say. âThings are changing. Iâm moving up from karting and hopefully into Formula 3 within the next year. Itâs just a reminder that weâve always got each other, even if Iâm gone racing or youâre off doing something, we can look at the rings and know weâve got a piece of each other with us, always.âÂ
You canât stop smiling at him, and that crush youâve got has tripled in size in a few short hours. Your teenage brain over exaggerates everything and you basically think this means youâre gonna be together forever, even though you arenât even together.Â
While youâre in make believe land, your parents are observing the two of you. Whispers and knowing glances are exchanged, between them and your Moms canât help but think itâs 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.Â
Perhaps you may be a little dramatic when you say that this Christmas was the best one youâd 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.Â
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
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 wouldnât see you as his little sister. But life had a funny way of hitting you in the face with reality, especially at thirteen.Â
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.
Itâs 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. Itâs not like you have an appetite anyways, getting your heart broken will do that to you. And it sucks even more because sheâs so nice, like insanely nice, you couldnât 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.Â
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 donât see is how your Mom has been watching you the whole night. Youâve never told her about your feelings towards Charles, but sheâs 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 youâre eternally grateful.Â
Itâs an early night for you that night, not bothering to join everyone for a game of UNO, claiming that you arenât feeling well. When really you couldnât 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.Â
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 itâs been somewhat of a revolving door of girls in Charles' life. Okay â 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 âbreakupâ a couple months ago, he hadnât 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.Â
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 â he was Spanish. The big brown doe eyes and dark hair fit him, now that you realized he was Spanish.Â
âDo all Spaniards come unprepared on their first day?â You teased as you handed him a pencil. It was his turn to be the one blushing as he stifled a smile.Â
âNo, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.âÂ
So he was a flirt â noted.Â
The two of you became good friends rather quickly, but per your parents rules, you couldnât 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 couldnât help but feel a little sad.Â
âOur little girl is growing up.âÂ
Your Mom wrapped a comforting arm around your Dad. âI know. Iâm glad though, I figured she would waste her teenage years waiting on Charles.âÂ
A questioning look washed across your Dadâs face. âWhat?âÂ
âOh honey. Donât act like youâve been blind these past ten years. Theyâve 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.âÂ
âGuess I do remember being less than thrilled at Charles getting her that ring for Christmas that one year.â Your Dad huffed.Â
âHmm,â she rests her head on his shoulder, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his abdomen as they still stand there, staring at the door. âYou know Pascale has always said that Y/N would end up with Charles.âÂ
Your Dad scoffs at your Momâs words. âAnd what do you think of that?âÂ
âI think only time will tell.âÂ
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 wasnât 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.Â
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.Â
When he stops in front of the ice cream shop near your house he doesnât even have to ask you if you want any, youâre 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.Â
âAh! ChĂŠrie!âÂ
The owner Mr. Martin â 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 hadnât been staring at him you wouldnât have caught it.Â
âWho is this handsome young man?â He asks as the two of you walk towards him..Â
You introduce Lucas to Mr. Martin and itâs at that moment that you realize that this is the first time youâve brought him here. Something that didnât seem possible to you because you were here so often that you had to have brought Lucas here at least once, but you canât recall a time.Â
Only when a vanilla cone is in front of your face are you brought out of your thoughts. Of course Mr. Martin didnât need to ask you what you wanted, itâs 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.Â
âI was surprised to see you with a boy other than Charles.â Mr. Martin states as he wipes down the counter. âHe must be special because I donât think Iâve ever seen you in here with anyone other than your family or Charles.âÂ
His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Yes, this was your first time you had brought Lucas here, but you know youâve brought other friends here. There was no way in your ten years here that you hadnât, 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 familyâ with Charles.Â
You completely ignore Mr. Martinâs statements and just give him a smile and thanks before making up an excuse as to why Lucas and you need to leave. He doesnât 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 itâs 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 youâre standing on your front porch step itâs all gone.Â
Lucas has a lopsided grin on his face, one youâve grown to love, as the two of you stand facing each other. âYou know we are missing the sunset you wanted to see.â His fingers lightly toy with yours, before finally intertwining them again.
âMmh. Itâs okay.â You were getting lost in those big brown eyes of his, the sunset the last thing on your mind.Â
âIâd rather stare at you anyways, youâre much prettier.âÂ
His words make you practically putty in his hands and before you know it youâre having your first kiss. Itâs 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 heâs 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. âGuess this is where I ask you to be my girlfriend huh? Not like Iâve been obsessed with you since my first day of school, been waiting all year or anything.âÂ
You raise an eyebrow at him with a smirk on your face. âAre you going to properly ask me?âÂ
By the end of the night when youâre 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 couldnât help but repeatedly feel your lips, the feeling of Lucasâ still fresh in your mind the whole night. You couldnât 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.Â
Being with Lucas was like living on cloud nine, you truly couldnât ask for a better boyfriend. As the year progressed you really wondered how you had snagged someone like himâ tall, dark, and handsome. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, and he made you feel like it too, until he didnât.
Thatâs the funny thing about first loves, you really think nothing could ever come between you, that itâs going to last forever. But the only thing that lasts forever is the damage they leave when theyâre gone.Â
You arenât 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. Youâre only sixteen and your Mom tells you relationships shouldnât be like this at this age, shouldnât be mentally draining, but unfortunately this one is.Â
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 werenât 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.Â
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
Itâs 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 hadnât 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.Â
âWhy would I want to hang out with him?â His back was turned to you, but you already knew from his tone that this was going to turn into an argument.Â
âWell I havenât seen him in awhile and he texted me asking to hang out, I thought we all could hang out.â You thought maybe by including Lucas in the plans that it would make the situation better. Wrong.Â
He turns to face you, walking towards your bed where youâre currently sat. âDid he mention me in the text?âÂ
âWell no but-âÂ
âExactly,â Lucas scoffs at you, his expression sour as he looms over you. âHe doesnât want me to come. I would get in his way.âÂ
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, Charles was not the guy Lucas made him out to be. âDonât know what you mean by you getting in his way.âÂ
âOh donât act cute about it Y/N.â 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. âBet if I gave him the chance heâd try to get in your pants at the first opportunity.âÂ
Your eyes widened, cheeks getting hot at his accusations. âWhat kind of girl do you think I am Lucas?âÂ
âAll Iâm saying is your friendship with him isnât normal, and it makes a guy wonder.âÂ
You were up off of your bed now, the two of you standing in the middle of your room. âThis is getting old. Iâve told you, you have nothing to be jealous of.â You had started to twist the ring on your pinky finger, a nervous habit you had developed over the past couple years.Â
âThat is why your friendship isnât normal.â Lucas grabs your hand, his fingers twisting at the ring trying to pull it off your finger. âWhat kind of girl wears a ring another guy got her while in a relationship? Huh? Even worse that youâve got matching ones.â
Yanking your hand free from his grasp you can feel your blood starting to boil, and youâre thankful your parents arenât home tonight because you can tell this is going to get ugly. âWe fucking grew up together! Heâs like a brother Lucas!â You were the first one to yell and you had unfortunately opened the floodgates because now Lucas is yelling.
âWho hasnât heard that before?! Heâs like a brother. Give me a fucking break. Youâre telling me youâve never had feelings for him? Not once in your life?â Â
The accusations and ideas he was throwing around tonight were beyond ridiculous.Â
âIâm not thirteen anymore Lucas. You know I only love you.â And you donât realize what youâve basically admitted until it leaves your mouth and you hear Lucas let out a dry laugh.Â
âAh. There it is. I think that last part may have been a lie, because you still wouldnât be wearing that ring if you didnât still feel something for him.âÂ
You shake your head at him, why couldnât he get what you were saying though his thick skull. âI only have platonic love for Charles. Itâs nothing like what you and I have.âÂ
He clicks his tongue, and you can hear the gears turning in his head. âProve it.â You furrow your eyebrows at him, confused as to how you are supposed to prove that you love only him. âTake the ring off and give it back to Charles.âÂ
You tuck your hands behind your back, afraid heâll try and rip it off your finger again. âNo. Itâs just a ring Lucas. Youâre giving it more power than it has.âÂ
âIf itâs just a ring then take it off.â You shake your head no at him. âTake it off Y/N.â 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. âTake off the fucking ring!â Heâs yelling and you can feel the tears starting to pool in your eyes. Heâs never gotten this crazy before and you can tell that this is the end of the two of you.Â
âLucas just go.â You're trying to hold back your tears, but when he tries to reach around to grab your hand you let out a sob. âLucas, leave! Now!âÂ
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. âYou never truly loved me did you?.âÂ
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. âI loved you more than youâll ever know, but clearly youâve got some shit mixed up in your head to think that I didnât.âÂ
âBut you are always going to love Charles more Y/N. You can tell yourself itâs only platonic love, but we both know itâs not.âÂ
You wipe away your tears as you sit back down on the side of your bed, this was getting old. âI canât do this anymore. Truly. Iâve tried to tell you how much you mean to me, but Charles is a part of my life and if you canât deal with that,â You take a deep breath, scared for what's about to come out of your mouth. âThen maybe we should break up.âÂ
And for the first time that night Lucas doesnât respond and youâre actually surprised that he doesnât put up a fight. âAlright then I guess we are done.â When he doesnât 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. âI never wanted us to end up like this, but I canât share your heart with someone else.âÂ
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 youâre surprised your Dad isnât going after him.Â
Youâre immediately calling Charles and you donât 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 youâre in. âOh my sweet girl.âÂ
âItâs over Mom.â You choke out between sobs.Â
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.Â
But seconds later youâre 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.
âAlright, Iâm gonna leave you two be.â Your Mom gives you a reassuring kiss on the head before exiting your bedroom.Â
Charles takes her spot next to you on your bed, his arm immediately pulling you into him. âDid you run here?â You ask as you rest your head on his shoulder.Â
âDid you expect anything less when you called me crying?â Heâs deadly serious when he says it, and you donât know it, but heâd drop everything to come to your aid, no matter if you asked or not. You donât 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. âAm I wrong for thinking this has something to do with Lucas?âÂ
The tears start to fall again as the fight replays in your head. âWe broke up.â Your words barely above a whisper, but Charles has no trouble hearing them, even over your sniffles.Â
âNever liked that asshole anyways.âÂ
You rolled your eyes at Charles' statement, lightly laughing because he was totally lying. âDonât lie, you liked him, hell everyone liked him.âÂ
âEver thought I am just a very good actor? He made you happy, so I just pretended to like him, for your sake.âÂ
âWish you would have made your dislike of him known, maybe I wouldnât be a hot mess on a Friday night right now.â 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.Â
Charles doesnât mean to pry, he knows youâll tell him when you're ready, but heâs 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 wasnât going to lie and say he wasnât happy about the two of you breaking up, for reasons unknown to him yet.Â
âYou gonna tell me what happened?âÂ
Your grip on him tightens and he thinks if he let you, youâd be under his skin if it was possible. âHe was jealous of you.âÂ
Charles feels his heartbeat quicken and heâs not sure why, but he does know he wants to hear the whole story. âAnd?âÂ
You know youâre going to start crying again, but it's Charles, you can tell him anything. So you take a deep breath and spill the beans. âIt started a couple months ago. Heâd 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 tonightâs fight was the worst one yet and I just couldnât 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 wasnât convinced.âÂ
Thereâs a strange feeling that blooms in Charles' chest as your words hit his ears and it clouds his mind because heâs never had a feeling like this when heâs been around you. Itâs 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. âDo you think our friendship is normal Charlie?âÂ
He cocks an eyebrow at you, confused as to what you meant. âWhereâs this coming from?âÂ
Your eyes never break away from your intertwined fingers, matching rings staring back at you. âLucas said our friendship isnât normal and basically the fact that we have matching rings isnât normal either.âÂ
Now Charles' gaze is also on your rings and for a moment he thinks maybe it isnât normal, but then he realizes this is your guys normal. So fuck what anyone else or Lucas thought about his friendship with you. âThink he might have been just pulling shit out of his ass at that point. Jealous that he doesnât have anyone in his life like we do each other.âÂ
Charles' words do make you feel a little better, because you know no matter what youâll always have each other and tonight is proof of that, but that doesnât stop your still broken heart from showing.
âStill kind of made me feel like shit though, like he made it seem like I didnât 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, weâre 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 Iâll never get back.âÂ
And Charles can feel his heart tightening at your words, because youâre 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.Â
âI 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 arenât going to have a problem finding someone else.âÂ
A small smile finds its way onto your face as you hear Charles speak. âYouâre just saying that to make me feel better.âÂ
âI wouldnât say anything that wasnât true. Youâre funny, kind, the best listener, and youâre so beautiful. Truly Y/N, anyone would be lucky to have you. And Lucas is clearly stupid for letting you go.âÂ
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 canât 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.Â
He pulls you into a hug and if there is one place you feel the safest in the world, itâs in Charles arms. And when he whispers into your ear that everything is gonna be fine, you know itâs going to be, as long as youâve got Charles in your life.Â
seventeen and twentyÂ
He had done it.Â
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 couldnât 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.Â
The day you found out that he signed with Suaber was one youâll 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.Â
It didnât 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 pocketâ thumbs moving rapidly as he texted you.Â
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 didnât take long for you to be on the cusp of actual sleep untilâÂ
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.Â
Charlie: come out backÂ
Your eyes glanced at the time â 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âWhatâs got you so happy, Leclerc?âÂ
Your eyes focused on Charles' frame as he swayed back and forth slowly on the swing. He was clearly too big for it â 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.Â
âJust happy to see you. Missed you.â His smile still ever prominent.Â
You scoffed at his words, he had just seen you a couple days ago. âYeah right. You wouldnât have texted me at midnight if there wasnât something going on. In fact, how did you know I was up or even home? Itâs a Friday night you know.âÂ
âBecause I know you Y/N. Your Friday nights are usually spent at home watching some show until you canât stay up any longer.âÂ
A grimace finds its way onto your face, what an amazing life you live. âOkay when you say it outloud it makes me sound like a loser.âÂ
His eyes had softened as the two of you made eye contact. âNothing wrong with how you spend your Friday nights.âÂ
You wanted to get off the topic of your nonexistent social life and onto the pressing matter at hand tonight â what had Charles so giddy? âSo are you gonna tell me what is actually going on or what?âÂ
He took a deep breath, he couldnât believe he was finally getting to say these words out loud. âIâve got a Formula 1 seat next year.âÂ
A blank expression is all that is staring back at Charles and heâs worried that youâre somehow mad or upset, but thatâs far from the truth. You arenât sure if youâve heard him right, because you think you heard him say heâs going to be racing in Formula 1 next year, but your brain has seemed to have short circuitedâ your heart beating a mile a minute.Â
Youâre able to get out, âSorry â what?!â and when you hear those words come from him once again youâre practically leaping out of the swing and into his arms. The fact that itâs nighttime and people are sleeping is the last thing on your mind as you're shouting excited nonsense at him.Â
His laughter filled your ears as he stood up from the swing with you still wrapped up in his arms. You just couldnât believe it, something he had worked so hard for, dreamt about since childhood, had finally come true. If anyone was deserving of it â it was him.Â
âPutain de merde Charles! When did you sign and with who?â You asked once you had finally peeled yourself away from him and were able to form a coherent sentence.Â
âSauber â I just signed yesterday. I know itâs not Ferrari like we had hoped-âÂ
Your jaw dropped and you lightly smacked his arm. âFerrari will always be there, I promise. And maybe after they see how good you do this upcoming season theyâll regret not signing you. But what Iâm 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!âÂ
He put his hands up in defense, but the cheesy grin on his face still remained. âI 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!âÂ
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.Â
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. âI 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.âÂ
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 wouldnât be the same without you and that he owes some of this success to youâ for constantly believing in him even when he didnât, for dreaming with him, and for being the light on even his darkest days.Â
âAnd I hope you know that I wouldnât have made it without you. Youâve been my biggest supporter since we were kids, always believing in me, pushing me, coming to support me when you could, and I canât imagine you not being at my first race.âÂ
âOh do you not remember what I said when we were younger? Think I said Iâd have a permanent paddock pass, so you bet your ass Iâm gonna be there.âÂ
A small laugh escapes past his lips and his dimples are back out in full force for what seems like the millionth time tonight. âTruly Y/N. Merci, I couldnât have done it without you. Je t'aime.âÂ
âJe t'aime aussi Charlie.âÂ
His pinky finger finds yours once again and when he curls his finger around yours a wave of deja vu washes over you. And thatâs 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.Â
Now here the two of you stood, high on the exciting news of him achieving that goal. You canât 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.Â
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
That following March you make the trip to Australia with the Leclercâs and your family and itâs 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.Â
Itâs surreal to see him in the car, see him flying around the circuit like itâs 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 arenât 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.Â
When you see him after the race heâs beaming like heâd 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.Â
âYou did so good Charles. You did it, you made it.â Your words slightly mumbled against his shoulder, but he hears you just fine.Â
âIâm glad you were able to come. Wouldnât have been as special if you didnât.â You donât think heâs wiped that smile off his face ever since he got out of the car and it only intensified as he spoke to you.Â
âWouldnât have missed it for the world.â And itâs true because thereâs no other place youâd want to be right now.Â
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
The next time you see him is for the Monaco Grand Prix and heâs 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.Â
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 heâs 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 heâs got a good feeling about the race, hoping to score some points, and maybe win his home race.Â
But when his brakes fail and he ends up crashing into the back of another car resulting in a DNF youâre heartbroken, but you know heâs even more upset. You know heâs going to be so hard on himself and overanalyze the whole situation, but that doesnât mean you arenât going to try and make things a little better.Â
When you find him heâs 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 â evidence that he had thrown them. Heâs so in his head that he doesnât even see you standing in the doorway as he paces.Â
âCharlie.â Your voice is soft and you hope by using his nickname that it may calm him a little.Â
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. Itâs like the gods wanted to punish him for reasons unbestowed to him.Â
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.Â
âLetâs get this helmet off, yeah?âÂ
With a small nod given from him as permission you reach your hands up to undo the strap. Youâre trying to be delicate with your actions, but when it comes to taking off his helmet there really isnât a way to be nice about it. And Charles knows because heâs got his hands over yours, aiding you in taking it off.Â
You couldnât 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.Â
Those unresolved feelings that youâve 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.Â
He sat down on his physio table with a defeated sigh, hand running through his already messy hair. âIâve let everyone down â the team, my family, myself, you. Maybe if I wouldnât have braked too hard at turn seven or didnât push as hard in the tunnel-âÂ
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 didnât take him back from that ledge heâd be in his head about it for weeks.Â
âCharles. 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.â Your hand subconsciously searches for his, and like itâs muscle memory your pinkies link seconds later. âI promise.âÂ
âA âonce in a generation driverâ would have avoided crashing.âÂ
Ugh. The phrases that the media used to describe Charles were â 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.Â
âYou had no brakes Charles. What were you supposed to do? Bust your feet through the floor and Fred Flintstone it?â 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 heâs pulling you into him, your head finding a home on his shoulder.Â
âIâm still immensely proud of you. Hell, you could finish dead last in every race and Iâd still be your number one fan.â This time there is an actual smile that washes across Charles face, but you donât get to see it, your head is still resting on his shoulder. â And I know itâs easier said than done, but please try not to be so hard on yourself, especially when it comes to things out of your control.âÂ
âWhat would I do without you?â Itâs a serious question that Charles asks himself often. Youâve 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.Â
Youâve pulled away from his embrace now, your eyes staring back at his. âHmmm. I donât know. Youâd probably be absolutely miserable without me.âÂ
And when you finally see that pretty smile of his, dimples and all, you know youâve accomplished your mission.Â
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
Although after Monacoâ things changed.Â
The first thing and probably the most inevitable was Charles moving out. Honestly, you were surprised he hadnât done it sooner, but in between the Monaco GP and Canadian GP he moved into his own place. Which in theory wasnât a big deal, but that meant he wasnât just right down the street from you anymore. He had gotten an apartment further into the city, which in Monaco thatâs not that far, but you knew it would make a difference.Â
The days of popping into his house and expecting him to be there were long gone. The whole thing really shouldnât have been such a big deal to you, but you couldnât help but think that him moving out was only going to aid in your worries of him forgetting about you to come true.Â
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.Â
Itâs inevitable to you that you are drifting apart when you realize itâs been three months since youâve seen him, almost a month since youâve talked to him. And when you see him make it official with some girl you hadnât even heard mention of after the British GP you feel like itâs just another nail in the coffin.Â
You donât even make the effort to reach out anymore, in fact you make sure not to after seeing that heâs got a new girlfriend. Youâd 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 canât force someone to talk to you or see you.Â
Heâs living his dream, traveling the world, partying, surrounded by stunning women. Youâre 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 donât hold on to much hope that he does.Â
Even though Charles and you arenât 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 donât 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 hadnât really been talking. And you donât mean to ask about his girlfriend, but you do, and you can see Arthur tip-toeing around his words. âSheâs⌠nice. Iâve only met her once so I really couldnât tell you much. You havenât met her yet though, right?âÂ
You shook your head at him. âI havenât even seen Charles since the home race. So no, I havenât had the pleasure of meeting her.âÂ
âMerde. I didnât think it had been that long.âÂ
What Arthur doesnât tell you is that Charles doesnât know their Mom and him are coming, not to mention you. You only figure it out when Arthur says something about making sure Charles doesnât 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 DNFâs.Â
The idea of seeing Charles again after so long already had your stomach in knots, but now knowing he doesnât even know youâre 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 canât hide the fact that he doesnât want you here? A million possibilities ran through your brain as Arthur dragged you towards the Sauber garage, while Pascale went to hospitality.Â
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 hadnât seen him in years, but truthfully these three months had felt like years.Â
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.Â
You were so engrossed in watching Charles that you didnât 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. Â
Leahâ Charles' girlfriend. Â
Her lips are moving, but you arenât hearing a word, and thatâs when you realize youâve still got your headset on. You quickly pull them down around your neck just in time to hear her say. âYou must be Y/N?â You're shocked she knows who you are and from the look on your face she knows exactly what youâre thinking. âCharles has mentioned you before. Itâs nice to finally meet you!âÂ
Itâs 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. âItâs nice to meet you too!â 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.Â
Time slipped away as the three of you chatted and you hadnât realized Q1 was over and that Charles hadnât made it into Q2 until you saw Leahâs eyes widened at something behind you. That something turned out to be someone and that someone turned out to be Charles. Leahâs practically hanging off of him while sheâs trying to take a million photos and videos. And thatâs when you know why Arthur tiptoed around his words about her earlier. Yes she was âniceâ, but she was clearly using Charles for her own benefit.Â
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 wasnât from being in the car moments ago.Â
Arthur wasnât supposed to be here and you werenât eitherâ especially talking to his girlfriend. It throws him for a loop and he canât seem to get his brain and mouth to work together to even greet you, so he stands there while Leah makes sure everyone knows sheâs dating a Formula 1 driver.Â
The tight lipped smile you throw his direction doesnât help how heâs 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 donât like him, like you havenât known each other for twelve years.
Charles could blame his absence in your life on his career, but that wasnât the whole truth.Â
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.Â
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 wasnât 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.Â
So what did he do to combat this insane revelation he had found out about himself?Â
Distance himself.Â
If he wasnât 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.Â
And at first it wasnât hard at all, he had gradually weaned himself off from facetiming you and then texting. And it wasnât that bad because he had racing and training and media duties and partiesâ 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.Â
But then he met Leah through another driverâs 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 wasnât you.Â
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 didnât skip a beat when a post of yours would pop up on Instagram.Â
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.Â
He knew he had caused some damage to your relationship when his Mom asked why he wasnât coming home to see you anymore and that you werenât yourself. He feels like shit about it, the idea of him making you upset is practically nightmare fuel for Charles and he doesnât 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.Â
Clearly Charles had never heard the saying distance makes the heart grow fonder because if he had then maybe he wouldnât 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.Â
What the hell was happening to him? What was this sudden effect you had on him? Had it always been there and he hadnât realized it until now? He couldnât think straight â 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.Â
âLong time no see stranger.â Your voice brings him back to reality, but your closer proximity has him searching for an out. His head glancing in every direction for someoneâ his race engineer, one of the mechanics, Leah, anybody to distract him from you.Â
When his search comes up short he resorts to making his stomach hurt even more by talking to you.Â
âYeah. How have you been?â 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.Â
âIâve been good.â Lie, but he didnât need to know that. âI see youâve been living it up since I saw you last.âÂ
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 couldnât maintain eye contact to save his life and honestly looked like heâd rather be someplace else at the moment. Your fear of him not wanting you here was clearly not a silly worry, it was reality.Â
âUm yeah. Always busy doing something recently.âÂ
Youâve 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. Heâs surprised after the way heâs 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.Â
When he sees you realize that heâs 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 thatâs then quickly replaced by a blank stare. He canât get his words out fast enough, heâs chewing on his words, mouth drier than the Sahara desert.Â
âI-um-Itâs in my-âÂ
âItâs fine Charles, really. Weâre not little kids anymore. I shouldnât be holding on to silly childhood promises.â It wasnât fine, it was far from fine. Youâre blinking back tears, your words referencing everything but the ring. But itâs a combination of everything thatâs 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.Â
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 didnât 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. Heâs got his fingers dug so deep into you that you think you'll be old and gray and still wonder what could have been.Â
Each word you spoke felt like a stab to Charles' heart. He wanted to tell you that he still wears his ring. That itâs sitting on its designated spot in his driver's room. But once again he canât get his words out fast enough, his brain still hung up on your words for some reason. Heâs hoping you would realize that the reason he doesnât 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 heâs losing everything right in front of him, but he canât seem to get his mind and body to work together to stop it.Â
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 wouldnât feel like he had just lost the one person in his life who truly cared about him.Â
âGood luck tomorrow Charles.âÂ
You donât 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 donât leave without taking one last glance at Charles.Â
Itâs a long evening with Arthurâs prying questions about what's going on between his brother and you. All you can do is shrug your shoulders because really you donât actually know what happened yourself, you assumed you drifted apart, but was there something else that happened that you didnât know about?Â
The next day you decide to watch the race from Sauberâs hospitality with Pascale, hoping to get away from Arthurâs never ending questions and Leahâs presence in general. Pascale luckily hadnât pressed you on the Charles matter, but sheâs practically your second Mother and she knows too that thereâs something going on between Charles and you, sheâs known from the beginning.
Charles ended up placing eleventh, which is miles better than his last two races, which were DNFs. Though you donât even bother to go to the garage with Pascale, opting to stay in hospitality until itâs time to leave. It may have been petty of you, but you really werenât in the mood to see Charles again and from his behavior yesterday he clearly doesnât care that you're not there.Â
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 canât 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.Â
Your words from yesterday hung heavy in Charles' mind all last night. I shouldnât 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 wasnât 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. Heâd 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 couldnât 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 wouldnât even come around. And by the time heâs done with his post race duties youâre back at the hotel ready to head back home. Charles doesnât think heâll ever get the chance to redeem himself and you're left wondering why you even agreed to come in the first place.Â
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
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 havenât had any contact with him since Monza so you wonder why heâs 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.Â
âBonjour?âÂ
Thereâs muffled sounds in the background, but Charles hasnât spoken a word, and you wonder if he accidentally butt dialed you.Â
âY/N.â 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.Â
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 didnât work out.Â
The big news in question? Him finally signing with Ferrari.Â
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 Fatherâs 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 couldnât have been more happy to finally accomplish that dream not only for himself, but also his Father.Â
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 didnât matter if you guys perhaps werenât 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 didnât want you to find out from the press release, so here he was telling you over the phone.Â
âOui?â
âIâve done it. Iâm driving for Ferrari next year.â It feels good to say it outloud, especially to you because you know just how much it means to him.Â
Thereâs silence from your end for some time and Charles checks to make sure you hadnât hung up on him, but the call time is still going. Heâs about ready to say your name when he hears sniffles echo through the speaker.
âAre you crying?â Heâs worried heâs somehow done something once again to make you upset.Â
You are in fact crying, as much as you hate it. Itâs 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.Â
âIâm just really happy for you Charlie.â His heart skipped a beat hearing you call him Charlie, it had been too long since youâd graced him with that nickname for his liking. âI told you Ferrari would see what they had missed out on and come running.âÂ
A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled that night on the swings when he told you about him getting into F1. âI wanted you to be the first person to know.â You canât 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 youâre still crying, your emotions all over the place.Â
When silence fills the line and he still hears your sniffles, he knows itâs not just happy tears youâre crying. It was time to face the elephant over the phone.Â
âListen I know things have been weird between us these past couple months and,â He paused, trying to choose his words carefully. âI know itâs my fault. I broke that promise I made you and I hate myself for it everyday.â The idea of him distancing himself from you was the dumbest idea heâs ever had. He wasnât better off without you, he was better with you. His feelings towards you aside, heâd rather die than not have you in his life.Â
âI got so caught up in this new lifestyle and I lost myself for a while.â Maybe he shouldnât be lying to you, but he wasnât about ready to admit you know what. Heâd already fucked up enough, he didnât need to go spilling his guts and fuck everything up even more.
âAnd 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.â He took a deep breath before continuing. âBasically what Iâm trying to say is that Iâm sorry for being a dick and that I really miss you.âÂ
His thumb toyed with the ring on his finger as he waited for your response and he remembered you still didnât know he still wore his. âI also still wear my ring. I just hadnât gotten the chance to put it back on after qualifying last week.â His gaze never broke from the ring as he spoke. âI donât like that you think I would ever stop wearing it. Gonna wear it till the grave Y/N.âÂ
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. âYou made me feel like shit Charles. Itâs a horrible feeling to see someone exiting your life in real time and knowing you really canât do anything about it.âÂ
âI know and Iâm so sorry.â He runs his hand through his hair in frustration, and he thinks heâs done it so many times that he might have a bald spot by morning.Â
You feel like youâre forgiving him too easily, but youâve 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. Heâs been in your life for so long itâs 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.
âI want things to go back to normal, like before.â Youâre standing in front of your dresser now, ring rolling between your fingers.Â
âThey will.â He glanced back down at his ring. âI promise.âÂ
âYou promise?â You asked as you slid the ring back on your finger, a missing part of now you back in its rightful place.Â
âI promise.âÂ
twenty two and twenty five
Over the past four years Charles and you had matured significantly.Â
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.Â
When it came to the love department thoughâ 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 didnât help matters, but neither did your feelings towards Charles that youâve been harboring for the past eight years. You really would have thought youâd have gotten over those, figured it was a thing of adolescents, but your twenties came and the feelings never went. It wasnât 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.Â
Like you when it came to romantic relationshipsâ you were still Charles number one, as much as he tried to make it work with other girls, they just werenât 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 didnât want a repeat of what happened when he tried to distance himself from you.
So here the two of you wereâ adults who were completely oblivious to how either of you felt about each other for years, hopelessly pining over each other.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 hadâ 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.Â
But that relief was short lived, because in true Charles fashion, he canât 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.Â
Heâd 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 donât even think twice about telling him youâll be there in ten. If you had to guess what he had planned, youâd 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.Â
When Charles seeâs 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. âYouâre lucky I love you Charles. Itâs gonna be so cold out on the water.âÂ
I love you. The words echo in his mind as he helps you into the boat. Itâs nothing new for you two to say it to each other, and heâs under the impression youâre 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.Â
âIâm the luckiest man alive.â Heâs referring to you and that glimmer in his eye would tell anyone that he was, but you donât see it, youâre too busy getting situated in your designated spot next to the captain's seat.Â
Once heâs 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.Â
Youâre already cozied up with the blanket by the time he makes his way over to you, but he doesnât even have to ask, youâre already pulling back the blanket for him to slide under.Â
He lets out a sigh once he gets comfortable beside you. âI needed this.âÂ
A hum in agreement comes from you as you scoot a little closer to Charles, a gust of cold wind blowing through the air.Â
âThereâs the big dipper.â Charles points his finger up to the sky, your eyes following where heâs 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 doesnât matter to either of you.Â
The gentle lull of the waves crashing against the boat fills the silence that falls between the two of you once youâve run out of things to point out. And youâve somehow ended up cuddled into Charles' side, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. You couldnât help it, heâs always been a walking furnace, and when the opportunity presents itself to be in his arms you were gonna take it.Â
It was something that was happening more and more with you two recentlyâ 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 doâ right? Friends who somehow while doing these things couldnât tell that the other person felt the same as they did.Â
Love may be blind, but in Charles and yourâs case, you were blind to love.Â
You donât know how long youâve 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 heâs around is something you donât think you can ever live without again. Heâs your person and you hope you're his, no matter what the future for the two of you entails.Â
The feeling of his fingers ghosting across your arm and down towards your hand tells you heâs searching for one thing and when his pinky finger links with yours you know heâs got something on his pretty little mind.Â
âYou wanna talk about it?â You whisper, your head still resting on his solid chest.
He doesnât respond for a while and you think he perhaps didnât hear you, but then he speaks and it sounds like blasphemy coming out of his mouth.Â
âWhat if I quit?âÂ
Your body freezes at his words and youâre hoping heâs 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.Â
âIâd think youâd be miserable. You love racing, you were born to do it, itâs in your blood Charles. All the hard work youâve put in from a literal child to nowââ You shake your head, not even wanting to think about him quitting racing. âDonât be stupid and throw it all away. Youâre just only getting started.âÂ
A deep sigh comes from him, his eyes fixated on your now intertwined hands as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. âIâm not going to, but there were so many times this past season that I thought about it. I know thatâs crazy to say after I won three times, but god the lows of racing truly are lows. Iâd have a good weekend and then have literally a weekend from hell the next race week. Itâs just a lotâ mentally. Trying to live up to everyoneâs expectations, the teams, the fans, the media, and my own is like a mental prison sometimes.âÂ
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 didnât think it had taken this much of a toll on him.Â
âAnd youâre right. I love racing and Iâd be miserable without it, but sometimes Iâm miserable with it.âÂ
The frown that had formed on your face moments ago had deepened at his confession. âI didnât know the season had affected you this much Charles. Wish you would have talked to me sooner about it.âÂ
âSorry.â He mumbles.Â
âYou have nothing to be sorry for Charlie, youâre allowed to feel how you feel. And I know you probably get sick of hearing me say it, but Iâm still so immensely proud of you. Like Iâve said before, you could finish dead last in every race and Iâd 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. Thatâs 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 youâll just be miserable because of me instead.âÂ
You see the corners of his mouth move up and you know youâve gotten a little smile out of him. âThatâs funny that you think me hearing you say that youâre 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?âÂ
âYes, I love happy Charlie, but I still love miserable Charlie too.âÂ
Heâs sat up, the two of you sitting face to face now, and you arenât sure if it's the cool breeze or him staring at you that makes a shiver run up your spine. âThatâs good to know.âÂ
Heâs 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 heâs leaning in and you think this might be the moment heâs gonna kiss you, the moment youâve been waiting for since you were thirteen. But youâre completely wrong, heâs only reaching for the blanket as he leans back onto the lounger once more.Â
âMerci Y/N, truly. For always being here for me, especially for tonight. It was nice to finally get that off my chest. Je tâaime.âÂ
You claim your spot back next to Charles and you donât even second guess yourself when you lay your head back on his chest. âJe tâaime aussi Charlie.âÂ
Charles, while he canât 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 couldnât work up the courage to kiss the girl he was in love with. Maybe heâd 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.Â
twenty three and twenty sixÂ
The Monaco Grand Prix.Â
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.Â
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. Â
That one day had yet to happen after six seasons in F1. After three DNFâs, horrible strategy, and two lost pole positionsâ Charles really didnât think winning his home race was ever going to happen. He had started to believe the âMonaco curseâ more and more year after year.Â
You on the other hand didnât 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 didnât believe in the Monaco curse.
Every year you had hoped he would win and sadly when he didnât you were there to pick up the pieces. You knew his time would come and granted you didnât think it would take this long. But the universe works in mysterious ways, thereâs a reason for everything, and you knew there was a reason Charles hadnât won yet.Â
And as this year's grand prix rolled around you hoped that this time the universe was ready to give him what he deserved.Â
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 soâ carefree these past couple days. Heâs usually already thinking about Monaco at the race the week before and the nerves have set in come media day, but this year heâs different.Â
Heâs 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 doesnât show you any sign of nervousness or doubt. And you canât help but think that this year is the year, he seems to finally be in the right headspace to win this thing.Â
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 wasnât 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.Â
But come Wednesday evening you found yourself at Charles apartment after a long day on the water with all your mutual friends. Youâre 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.Â
He claims heâs got something to show you, but the whole car ride and trek into his apartment he wonât budge on telling you what it is. It isnât until he sits down at his piano with a blush creeping up his neck that you know what heâs got to show you.Â
âHave you been working on new music?â You ask with a hopeful smile on your face.Â
His fingers ghosted over the keys and his pinky lightly tapped oneâ the sound filling the room. âFor a while now and I think itâs finally ready.â The blush had made its way onto his cheeks and heâs fidgeting with his bracelets as he makes eye contact with you. âSo, I think itâs only right that the person that itâs for should get to hear it first.âÂ
Your eyes widened in surprise and now youâve both got crimson painted cheeks. âYou wrote a song for me?!âÂ
âYeah.â He states sheepishly.Â
Youâve 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 didnât 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.Â
âWell, let's hear it then.â You sat down on your usual spot on the couch and eagerly waited for the music to hit your ears.Â
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. Itâs beautiful and heartfelt and you canât believe he wrote something like this while he was thinking of you. Itâs tugging at those feelings youâve 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.Â
When the song is over his head immediately turns to you for reassurance, but all he sees is your body barreling towards him. Youâve got your arms around him before he can even process whatâs happening, but from your excited words of nonsense he knows you loved it.Â
âOh mon dieu!â Is the first coherent thing youâre able to get out.Â
âI take it you liked it?âÂ
âLiked 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.âÂ
âIâm glad you loved it. Iâve been working on it for months, wanted to get it perfect in time to show you now.âÂ
Youâre 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.Â
âWill you play me some more?â You try to give him your best puppy dog eyes and of course he canât 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.Â
You donât even realize youâve fallen asleep until you feel Charles gently shaking you awake telling you that is time for bed. Itâs not uncommon for the two of you to spend the night at one anotherâs places. Youâve spent many nights in Charles' guest bedroom after drunken nights out or sometimes just for fun. Youâre clinging to him, still basically asleep, as he helps you walk towards what you think is the guest bedroom, but itâs his.Â
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 doesnât even know youâve 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. Heâd 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 doesnât even make it two steps before you call out his name. When he turns around heâs 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 shouldnât, 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 heâs your missing puzzle piece you instantly slide into Charles arms.Â
Itâs like home, being in each otherâs embrace.Â
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 isnât next to you right now to see it.Â
You do wonder where heâs gone though. Heâs not in the living room or kitchen, and itâs still too early for him to have left for media day, but then you hear complaining coming from the bathroom.Â
âMaman! No, that's going to be too short!âÂ
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.Â
âCharles last time I checked youâre not a hair stylist, let your Maman do her job.â 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. âMon amour, youâre here early.â The look on her face tells you she knows you spent the night, but itâs not like itâs something new or anything happened. Hell even if she didnât know she could definitely tell you had just rolled out of bed.Â
âI spent the night. Fell asleep after we were out on the boat all day.â You shrugged your shoulders, it truly was no big deal (you sleeping in his bed and cuddling with him aside).Â
She doesnât say anything, but she does nothing to hide the smile on her face and sly looks she gives you and Charles the whole time sheâs cutting his hair. Sheâs 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 Motherâs intuition, but sheâs known you two were made for eachother since you were kids. If you didnât 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 Charlesâ eyes light up when you enter the room. How youâve always been his soft spot since you were little kids. The way you speak about Charles like heâd hung the stars and the moon in the sky. She knew you fell first and Charles a couple years later. All these little things sheâs noticed and stored away for that eventual wedding day.Â
You can see Charles staring at you through the mirror and itâs making you squirm, his eyes burning into you. âYou gonna get rid of that facial hair too?â You try to get him to focus on anything other than you at the moment.Â
His mouth opens in fake shock and Pascale curses him for moving. âIâm actually thinking of growing a full beard.âÂ
âOh please donât.â
âââ§âââââââ§ââât.âÂ
Charles and you donât speak about you spending the night in his bed or in his arms. In fact you donât see him again until qualifying on Saturday where he puts it on pole. Youâre ecstatic and you can tell he is too even though heâs trying to remain calm and collected while he does his press duties. Heâs gotten pole two times before in Monaco, he knows pole doesnât mean you win, but he canât help but think itâs a good sign.Â
That night you find yourself back at Charles' apartment by his request once again. Which was a surprise, you figured heâd want to be alone the night before the big race. But itâs quite the opposite, he wanted your company, he canât 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.Â
âFeeling good about tomorrow?â 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.Â
âYeah. The car has been consistent the past two days and Iâve got pole.â He paused for a moment and you can tell he wants to say something, but he stuffs his mouth with pizza instead. You donât press the matter anymore, figuring he didnât want to talk about it anymore, didnât want to possibly jinx anything. Itâs 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.Â
Itâs not until youâre putting the leftover pizza into the fridge that he brings up tomorrow again.Â
âIt feels right this time.â Heâs leaning against the counter, eyes trained on you as you turn back around to face him. âI mean tomorrowâ it feels right. I think itâs gonna happen.âÂ
A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you move to lean against the counter next to him. âI think so too. Youâve been different too, more relaxed this week. Think it might be the universe telling us itâs finally gonna happen?âÂ
A deep sigh comes from Charles. âMon dieu I hope so.âÂ
You glance over at the time on the microwaveâ 11:00 p.m. Shit. You didnât think it was that late already.Â
âItâs getting late Charles. You should be in bed and I should be heading home. Itâs a big day tomorrow.â You go to give him a hug goodbye, but heâs just staring at you, and it throws you for a loop. âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
He swallows hard, his adamâs apple bobbing in his throat. Was he sure he wanted to ask you this? Would it make things weird? It never has before when heâs asked you, but this time felt different. Fuck his palms were drenched in sweat and he could feel his heart beat racing.Â
âUmâ well you could just spend the night if you wanted toâÂ
You try not to act like you werenât silently hoping the whole night that heâd ask you to stay. You had figured he wouldnât 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.Â
âTraffic is a nightmare this time of yearâŚâ You act like you're weighing your options while you fully know youâre going to say yes. âProbably take me twice as long to get home, even at this time of night.â You fake ponder some more, really putting on a show. âYeah I guess Iâll spend the night.âÂ
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. âWell, I probably should be in bed by now. So Iâll see you in the morning, yeah?âÂ
âYeah. I should go to bed too.âÂ
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 doesnât say anything to you. Your hand lingers above the door knob and something inside of you tells you not to open itâ to turn around instead.Â
Youâre 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. Heâd 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 hadnât even opened the guest bedroom door, you were a goner as soon as he asked you to spend the night.Â
For the second time in a week the two of you shared the same bed, not sexually, but it definitely wasnât friendly or at least how normal friends would share a bed. But tonight heâs 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 canât help but think that Charles has to feel the same way as you, thereâs just no way that he doesnât.Â
What man is this intimate with someone in a non sexual way and doesnât 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 youâve 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 youâd share a bed with Charles like this.Â
The next morning heâs already gone and at the track by the time you wake up and when you grab your phone from the nightstand you see heâd sent you a text.Â
Charlie: i left early this morning and you just looked too peaceful to wake up before i left. so iâll see you before lights out.Â
A sigh escaped past your lips as you tossed your phone on the bed, today was going to be a long day.Â
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.Â
A good amount of your time is spent in Ferrariâs hospitality chatting with everyone and discussing potential outcomes for the race. You donât end up seeing Charles until the time between the drivers parade and race time. Heâs in his drivers room when you find him and heâs literally the calmest youâve ever seen him before a race.Â
His face lights up when he sees you and heâs immediately pulling you in for a hug. âDidnât think you were gonna come for a second. Weâve usually seen each other by now.âÂ
âYou know I wouldnât 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.âÂ
âWell I donât plan on being home for dinner tonight. Iâm going to be out celebrating.â Heâs got a cheeky grin on his face as speaks.Â
You laughed lightly at his new found confidence. âOh someone is sure of themself.âÂ
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 heâs planning on going to Jimmyâz or someplace else tonight. You donât even realize how long youâve been talking until he gets a knock on his door letting him know itâs 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.Â
âYouâre gonna do great and when you take that top step on the podium Iâm gonna be there front and center cheering you on.âÂ
âYou better be.â Heâs serious, he doesnât want to win this thing if you aren't right there alongside him.
âI promise Charlie.âÂ
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
You think you might pass out or throw up when the lights go out and the race finally begins. It then turns into thinking youâre going to do both when thereâs 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 heâs 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.Â
Youâre 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. Itâs the longest 78 laps of your life and youâre praying he can maintain the lead, put a big enough gap between Oscar that he can just ride this race out. Lap by lap heâs 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.Â
Heâs driven so well the whole time you couldnât have been more proud. Youâd been holding back tears since lap 68, but when you hear him over the radio on lap 75 say that heâs just going to bring it home you canât help but let a couple tears fall. And by now you know the win is his. Heâs 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.Â
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. Youâre cheering as tears run down your face, your Mom and Pascale hugging you, the two of them also in tears. Itâs surreal, him finally winning, you can only imagine what heâs feeling like right now. You waste no time in heading over to get the best spot to watch the podium ceremony. Youâre front and center, the metal barrier pressed up against your abdomen as more people fill the crowd behind you.Â
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 wouldnât 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.Â
Charles feels on top of the world as he looks down at everyone in the crowd, he canât believe heâd finally won his home race. Heâd 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. Heâs tired of pretending like his life wouldnât be better without you being his. The two of you havenât broken eye contact for awhile, both of you grinning like fools, and he decides that now is the time.Â
âJe suis amoureux de vousâ He mouths to you.Â
It takes you a moment to realize what he was saying, but when you do you think youâre dreaming. Thereâs 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.Â
Youâre the first person he wants to see after the celebratory champagne pop. He canât wait a second longer to tell you how he actually feels out loud. He doesnât care that heâs drenched in champagne or that thereâs hundreds of people around. Heâs waited too long to let a moment like this go by. Heâs pushing his way through the crowd to find you, heâs basically getting manhandled, but he doesnât care, youâre his priority. And when he finally finds you itâs like a scene straight out of a movie.Â
His adrenaline is pumping and he doesnât even think about what heâs doing, heâs 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 whatâs 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, youâd never thought the day would come.Â
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. âIâm in love with you. Have been for years, but Iâve just been too scared to say anything, but winning today let me know the universe was on my side. And I couldnât pass up the opportunity once again to tell you how I feel.â Your eyes widen at hearing him say heâs been in love with you for years. âDonât act so surprised. I made it painfully obvious sometimes.â His dimples peaking out as he smiles at you.Â
âIâve been in love with you since I was thirteen Charlie.âÂ
Now itâs his turn to look surprised. âWhy didnât you say anything?âÂ
âWas too scared that you didnât feel the same.âÂ
âI could never not love you Y/N. Itâs always been you, youâre my person. I wish I would have told you sooner so I could have been doing this more often.â He pulls you in for another kiss and you think if he didnât have his arms around you your legs would have given out.Â
Never in a million years did you think that Charles would be confessing his love to you after heâd just won his home race. If thirteen year old you could see you right now sheâd probably die. You canât 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.Â
He grabs your hand and presses your ring clad pinky finger to his lips. âMon coeur.â Then he presses another kiss to your lips. âJe tâaime.â
âJe tâaime aussi.âÂ
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. âCome say goodbye to grand-mère and grand-père!âÂ
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 wouldnât seem like it by the way they were acting.Â
âOk, who wants ice cream?â Their Papa asks after all the goodbyes are said and they are out the door.Â
âMe!â Is said in unison from the two children.Â
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 Mamanâs boy.Â
âYou know your Maman and I used to come to this place all the time when we were younger.âÂ
âWe know Papa, youâve told us a hundred times, and we come here all the time.â The little girl sasses her Papa.
âI know but I just like to reminisce.â The man gives his wife a wink and she knows heâs 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 isnât that far away.Â
That all too familiar sweet smell soon fills the parents senses and it brings them back to when they were around their childrenâs 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.Â
âAh the Leclercs! My favorite family. You know Iâm gonna have to start making extra vanilla ice cream just to accommodate you guys.âÂ
taglist: @rana030 @blueflorals @sltwins
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#mine#writing#god please don't flop
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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.
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#jason todd#red hood#jazz fenton#dan phantom#dani phantom#de aged danny#de aged dani#de aged dan#triplets au#triplet horror kids are out for your eyeballs#beware#jazz is so done with them
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Toji Fushiguro
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
âCan we eat the cookies now?â 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 canât say no to the sweet boy.
You think youâre being sneaky, watching out for Toji before giving him the cookie. Megumiâs eyes light up, and he snatches the treat from your hand. You ruffle his hair, a laugh leaving your lips before offering, âDo you want some milk too, honey?â
âPlease.â He responds, and you canât help but smile at him. If Toji were to catch you doing this to Megumi, heâd get so mad at you. You do understand, after all, you are breaking Tojiâs rules.
You canât help it though. Who wouldnât be weak if the cutest little boy asked for cookies? Tojiâs passed out on the couch anyway, itâs not like heâll find out. Itâll look odd when Megumi barely touches his dinner, but lying is the easy part.
âYou canât tell your daddy, okay?â You tell Megumi, giving him the glass of milk that you offered. He nods in response, though itâll definitely slip later. Megumi just has to eat the cookie fast enough before the old man wakes upâ
Even though you havenât heard him yet, heâs watching you. Toji has soft eyes as he sees you treat Megumi so sweetly, and how Megumi isnât scared to ask anything from you. Itâs partially because you spoil him, so maybe he shouldnât be too surprised that Megumi goes to you for anything.
âDonât tell me what?â He clears his throat, and your ears get hot, knowing that youâve 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.
âNothinâ.â You try to play it off as if Megumi isnât 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 Megumiâs bottom lip quiver.
âI said no cookies before dinner.â Tojiâs 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 heâs thinking he wants more. He has the want of something more, and he doesnât want to wait until however soon the future is.
âIâll give you two cookies after dinner, Megumi. Your dad is such a meanie.â Your hand runs up and down Megumiâs back, attempting to comfort him. Your words of reassurance help,Â
âHeâs getting no cookies, and youâre on timeout too.â He tells you after he swallows the food in his mouth, and you roll your eyes.
âToji, Iâm a grown woman.â You remind him, and he sticks his tongue out at you.
âNo more cookies tonight, and thatâs final.â Toji makes it clear before walking away, leaving you to soothe his crying boy.
What you donât know is that Toji isnât mad, heâs just thinking about how you make such a great mother⌠His thoughts embarrass him because theyâre filthier than heâd like to admit.
After putting Megumi to bed, Toji claims that heâs going to have a serious conversation with you. Youâre reasonably scared at what he has to say, knowing that youâve 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. Youâre biting down your lip as Toji makes you feel so good. You have to be especially quiet tonight, but you know heâs 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 donât mind when he makes you feel like youâre on cloud nine.
âTojiâŚâ Youâre 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. Heâs doing everything in his power to turn you into putty. âItâs so good, Toji. Fuckââ
Your thighs are squeezing his head, getting too lost in your own pleasure to care. Toji doesnât 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.
Youâd think that after breaking his rules Toji would be mad, but this is the way he punishes you? Youâre 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 youâll misbehave more often.
Youâre moaning his name, getting louder by the second. Itâs such a sweet sound to his ears, but he canât risk you being too loud. He takes his fingers out, flicking your clit a couple of times before rising from between your legs. Thereâs a taunting smirk on his lips when he stands up from the floor.
âMy sweet baby, you canât be too loud.â 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.Â
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, âYouâre so perfect, baby.â
âI need you so bad, Toji.â 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 bedâ You just know that you love this.
âBeg for it, baby. Use your voice.â Toji tells you, and you roll your eyes. Heâs so complicated sometimes, but youâll give in.
âPlease give me your cock, Toji. Fill me up, please please please.â Youâre whiny, making sure he hears what he wants to hear. He canât help but chuckle as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds.
âIâm gonna put it in then, is that okay, baby?â 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, âYou feel so good around me, baby.â
âCan you move, Toji?â You have to ask him, and he begins to thrust. His movements start off slow, but theyâre 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 youâre just mindlessly moaning in his bedâ In your defense, youâre doing a little bit more than that. Heâs groaning with the way that your pussy wraps around his cock. No matter how many times he fucks you, heâll never get bored of the feeling.Â
Two of his fingers go into your mouth, reaching far back and making you gag. He reprimands you, âI told you not to be too loud.â
His other hand goes to play with your clit, and he senses just how good that makes you feel. Itâs a good thing his fingers stop you from being too loud, he doesnât need a brat coming in and ruining his fun. Though he does say, âYou want me to make you a mama?â
Your eyes go wide but you clench around him, which is all the answer he needs. âIâll give you one of your own, baby. Donât you wanna have my baby?â
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.Â
âIâll give you your own, baby. Iâll get you pregnant.â 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.Â
He picks up more speed, the idea of knocking you up driving him insane as well. Heâs been thinking about it all night, youâd just make the sweetest mother to his kids. Itâs not just sex talk, Toji is dead serious about this.
âGonna come inside, okay? Iâm gonna fill you up.â He tells you as his movements become sloppy. Youâre frantically nodding, nearly coming again at the mere thought of him stuffing you with his cum.Â
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.
âYouâre actually serious?â 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, âThat wonât help.â
âDoesnât hurt to try.â He responds, and you chuckle.
âWhat came over you, anyway?â You question, and a smirk comes to his lips. He shakes his head, refusing to tell you.
He wonât let you know that seeing how great you are with kids, specifically with Megumi, makes him want to get you pregnant.
#toji x y/n#toji zenin#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro#daddy toji#fushiguro toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#dilf toji#toji fushiguro x you#toji fanfic#toji fushiguro smut#toji fic#fushiguro toji x reader#toji#fushiguro toji smut
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
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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
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 jiâ" 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 admitâ 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 allâ you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
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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Baking cookies for F1 drivers after they give you a good wienering(sex)⌠￟
(Thank you tik tok for this idea & @turcott3 for helping)
| OSCAR PIASTRI | honestly heâs confused when you present him with the tray of cookies, thinks theyâre for his win but when you tell them what theyâre actually for he blushes bright red and giggles.
âReally? For giving you good sex?â
But heâs still very appreciative and makes sure you see that.
| LEWIS HAMILTON | Smirky but finds it amusing, pulls you into a sweet kiss and ends up quickly giving you a reason to bake more.
âHoney I think youâll need another bag of flour by the end of the week.â
Your home begins to smell like baked goods all the time and anytime heâs craving your cookies he knows what he has to do.
| CHARLES LECLERC | Heâs slightly confused but horned. He giggles when you tell him what theyâre for and while he does find it slightly silly it warms his heart. Pulls you into a sweet kiss before he eats one and praises you for the amazing taste.
âAlmost as delicious as you mon amor.â
| LANDO NORRIS | He gets cocky but also finds it hilarious, definitely throws out some dirty remarks that have you blushing, he uses this to his advantage though and always asks what he can do to get more.
âSo how many do I get if I get you pregnant??â
| MAX VERSTAPPEN | He is severely confused, he doesnât understand what you mean or why you would make him cookies for giving you what you deserve but he eats them nonetheless and tells you how delicious they are.
âI donât understand Schat, why did you bake me cookies for fucking you good? Thatâs what Iâm supposed to do.â
| LOGAN SARGEANT | Blushes like a school boy, he doesnât know what to say at first but composes himself and thanks you. Gives you a sweet kiss before eating one, he ends up having the plate gone by the end of the day and he makes his way into your shower later that night with one thing on his mind.
âCan you make snickerdoodles next time?â
| DANIEL RICCIARDO | laughs his ass off for a solid 60 seconds before composing himself and pulling you in for a kiss. He thanks you a thousand times before picking one up for you two to share but quickly gets turned on by the way your lips skim his finger as he feeds it to you and next thing you know youâre bent over the counter. An hour later he comes in to find the oven set at 350 and you whipping up more cookies for him.
âWhat flavor you makinâ this time?â
| CARLOS SAINZ | He gets so fucking cocky, the second you tell him what you made them for his smirk overtakes his face. He thanks you properly with a quickie before cleaning you up and getting you cuddled up on the couch as he heats up the cookies and gets you both a glass of milk.
âI could get use to these.â
| LANCE STROLL | Heâs confused for a good 15 seconds before he starts laughing. Heâs very thankful though and horned that you thought the sex was good enough to bake him his favorite cookies. Gives you a sweet âthank you baby.â With a kiss before he splits one between the two of you.
| ALEX ALBON | It amuses him, youâd mentioned doing it to him but he didnât think you actually would until he walks in to find you plating them. He knew what they were for right away and couldnât contain his laughter, soon your both bent over laughing.
Once theyâre cooled down he devours half of the plate and praises your skill.
#lando norris x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#oscar piastri x reader#lance stroll x reader#carlos sainz x reader#alex albon x reader#logan sargeant x reader#formula one fluff#formula one smut#formula one fic#f1 fluff#f1 x reader
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Retired pro hero Bakugou buying a really old abandoned home in Japan and restoring it while living in it.
It's all he's got, a lot of his friends have wives, families, kids, some of them even expecting a first grandkid and Bakugou in his 40s has nothing of his life to show for aside from the undisputed number one spot on the hero charts for 20 years straight and more scars than he can count.
He feels he relates to the house, old, once adored but now empty.
He wants to change that, wants to be more than an idea or idol, wants to disassociate from Dynamight and just be Bakugou Katsuki but he isn't sure he knows who that is. Dynamight is still parts of him yes but exaggerated, in all his years Katsuki knows he can soften he just doesn't know where.
Although he's ready to find out. Sadly or maybe fortunately, he's the type of man who has to find out through action and hard work. He bought the house site unseen, didn't even Google what the front of the home looked like he didn't care.
Standing in front of his mostly dilapidated home he feels good, crossing his arms over his chest as he lets his mind wander on where to start. Eyes sharp, cutting into the features of the home as he assesses just like he would any villain situation.
"Excuse me Dyna-" You clear your throat before he looks at you, as you remember his retiring announcement of him saying Dynamight can go fuck himself. I'm Bakugou Katsuki now.
"Excuse me Bakugou. I brought you a little welcome gift. I'm your neighbor." You don't flinch when his heavy gaze flicks to you, don't shy away from his snarl and if anything your smile grows as you offer up the bento and plate of cookies.
He doesn't take them and you don't take offense, just gently pull them back to yourself as you look at the home
"I'm so happy you bought the Sato house. They were good neighbors. They lived here when I was younger by both passed suddenly. Old age does that ya know? They didn't have any children but Mrs. Sato taught me her special rice for bentos."
You're rambling but you don't care, you'd just bought your childhood home from your parents a month prior. Fearful your home would suffer the same fate as the Satos. That the love and memories would be washed away by the rain and neglect. That the air around the home would worsen each year it went unaccompanied until it became so stagnant with neglect it became a miasma that not even the toughest soul could stomach.
Yet here stood Bakugou strong and tall outside a broken home.
"I don't think it's anything special by the way. Just a bit more soy sauce or sesame seed oil, I think she was what made it special."
Katsuki looks down at you for a long time, sees your fingers twitch against the fabric of the neatly wrapped bento, watches you swallow thickly and lashes flutter to combat the burn in your eyes as you stare at the home. You turn to face him, give a polite smile and nod of your head in a brief good bye before his voice stops you.
"I'll be the judge of that." You furrow your brows in confusion, looking up at him before his big warm palm comes under the bento to lift from your hands, "If the rice is special or not."
He watches your face light up, a true genuine smile that could compete with the sun and he feels something deep in his chest ache. Feels it yearn to reach out to you but he stands firm in his spot as he watches you disappear down the short overgrown walk way back to your home.
He doesn't even need to try the fucking rice to know the answer.
The rice was going to be special because you made it, Katsuki's sure of it.
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NEIGHBORLY.
simon riley/reader feat. soap + gaz
tags: smut, established relationship (engaged), retired!simon, neighbors!soap+gaz, afab!reader, gn!reader, age gap (not specified but i imagine 30s/20s), long winded pwp
cw: voyeurism, size difference, no foursome, cucking, throat fucking with fingers, blowjob, dacryphilia, pet names: love/lovie/sweetheart, praise, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, wet&messy, simon picks up reader bridal, striptease?, fingering, dirty talk, praise, lots of compliments!!!, masturbation, clothed/naked sex, standing sex, hand on throat!!!!!, creampie
; two guys called soap and gaz move in next door and aren't good at hiding the crush they develop on you. your fiance, simon, decides they're fun to play with.
"You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead."
8.5k words
When your fiancĂŠ surprised you by buying a quaint little house for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives together in, you were elated. It was straight out of your dreams, cute and cozy, yellow on the outside and enough room for a little garden if you so wished. It was in a quiet neighborhood but near enough to everything you needed that you could walk there if you so chose.Â
It was all so perfect â living with the love of your life in your first house together. Ready to start your lives and plan the upcoming wedding. Things were peaceful and you couldnât have been happier.Â
Then the house next door sold.Â
âYou really have to give them away?â Simon huffed from where he sat at the table, cheek resting on his propped up hand. His lidded gaze followed you as you flitted about the kitchen, cat-themed apron covered in flour.
You laugh over your shoulder, âItâs the polite thing to do! We have to be good neighbors!â
âThey smell goodâŚâ Simon muttered, only making your smile broaden as you walked over to him.
His hands found your hips when you placed yours on his broad shoulders, black t-shirt getting white specks all over it from the flour still on your fingers, âAfter I get back from delivering these Iâll make a whole batch just for you, deal?â
He tongues the inside of his cheek before nodding, âLetâs get it over with.â
âYouâre coming?â you ask, brows raised in surprise.Â
âOf course,â he huffs, giving your bottom a little pat when you bend over to grab the tupperware out of the lower cabinet.Â
You giggle and carefully place parchment paper inside before organizing the cookies in a way that looks nice. You pop the lid on and make your way to the door where Simon is leaning against it with his arms over his chest.Â
You try your best not to ogle him but he looks damn good; a simple pair of blue jeans fastened with a leather belt and a tight shirt that hugs his pecs and stretches the sleeves around his biceps when they flex.Â
âMaybe when we get back,â you hum, slipping your feet into your slides, âYou can let me suck your dick on the couch, yeah?â
Simon rolls his eyes but doesnât do a good job of hiding the crooked smile that slips across his face. He turns his back to you and opens the door for you before following you out and down the porch..Â
His heavy boots pound against the stairs, reminding you just how intimidating his stature is. It makes you pause, halfway between your yard and the new neighbors. You turn around and look up at him.
âWhat?â he raises a thick brow, crossing his arms over his chest again.
âJustâŚâ you take a few steps backwards, playfully squinting at him with pursed lips, âStay here, okay? We donât want to scare the new neighbors.â
âYou implying Iâm scary, love?â he huffs, a smirk on his lips.
âIâm not implying it, Si,â you grin, âJust stay here while I deliver these.â
âYouâre the boss,â he sighs.Â
True to his word, his feet remain planted right where he stands as you cross into the new neighbors yard. You hop up the stairs and ring the doorbell.Â
You hear a clamoring from the other side of the door before thereâs a slam against the surface and muffled cursing. You bite back a laugh before smiling politely when the door swings open.Â
Two men stand in the doorway, one with a mohawk stands closest to you â probably the one who ran into the door.Â
âOh,â he clears his throat, fixing his posture before flashing you a crooked grin, âCan-can we help ye?â
The other man, with pretty, brown eyes scoots closer, bumping shoulders with the other man, âYouâre from next door.â
âHuh?!â The mohawk man gawks, whipping his head over to stare at the other man, âWe had a pretty neighbor this whole time and you kept it to yerself?!â
âAre those for us?â he ignored his companion and looked at the tupperware in your hands.
âOh!â you brush off mohawks comment and nod, holding the box out, âI made you some cookies. Theyâre just plain chocolate chip, I hope you donât mind.â
âThatâs very sweet of you,â he kindly smiles and takes the container from you, fingers brushing against yours.Â
âSo,â mohawk rests his arm up on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, âMy nameâs Johnny but everyone calls me Soap.â
âNice to meet you,â you nod your head in greeting, introducing yourself before looking at the other man who has opened the tupperware to take a cookie out.
âKyle,â he offers before taking a bite, humming in satisfaction, âThese are delicious.â
âHey, donât hog those for yourself, ye pig!â Soap cries, snatching a cookie out of the container before shoving the whole thing in his mouth with a moan, âThese are good.â
âThank you, Iâm glad you like them,â you giggle, âYou can return the tupperware whenever youâre ready.â
âSo,â Soap hums before you can leave, âYouâre pretty and you can bake, what else can you do? How about you come in and we can get to know each other more.â
You bashfully lower your head and laugh, âI donât think my fiance would appreciate that very much.â You gesture over your shoulder.Â
Both men comically lean out of the doorway to look into the yard where Simon still stands, arms over his chest, brown eyes practically piercing through them.
âAh, thatâs a shame,â Soap mutters under his breath before sighing, âFigures, I suppose. Lucky bastard.â
You shake your head tossing a little wave to Simon before looking back at your neighbors, âIâll be seeing you guys around. Enjoy the cookies!â
You can feel their eyes on you as you go and it isnât until you reach Simon that you hear the door shut.Â
Your fiance looks down at you when you stand in front of him, âThey liked the cookies.â
âBet they did,â he hums, letting you take his hand and lead him back to the house where he proceeds to demand a fresh batch just for himself â as you promised.Â
The next time you see your neighbors, itâs just Kyle. Youâre outside, kneeling in the grass with your hands covered in dirt as you plant some flowers.Â
âHey there, neighbor,â a friendly voice calls from behind.Â
You turn to look to see Kyle dressed in a compression shirt, shorts, and running shoes, âOh hello, Kyle!â
âDoinâ some dirty work, are you?â he asks, eyeing the holes youâre carefully digging.
âJust getting started on my garden,â you explain, âWhat about you? Going for a run?â
âThatâs right,â he nods, âMay be on leave but gotta keep movinâ or I go crazy.â
âLeave?â you ask, sitting up straight in interest, âYouâre in the military?â
His eyes light up as he nods, âThatâs right. Soap and I both.âÂ
âYou donât live on base?â you ask, unable to hide your interest.Â
âNah, had to live in the barracks for way too long I couldnât handle it anymore,â he laughs, a charming smile that makes you smile back, âYou interested in military men, love?â he asks, flirtatious tone more than obvious.
You laugh softly, âYou could say that,â his brows raise in interest, âMy fiance is ex-military. Discharged at Lieutenant for an injury.â
His smile is wiped from his face quickly and you bite back another laugh, âRight, your fiance.â
âI could introduce you, if youâd like,â you offer, âSimon doesnât really get to talk to many people who know what the military is really likeââ
âThatâs alright, love,â Kyle says, smiling politely, âIâve got a run to go on, Iâm sure Iâll get the chance to meet him soon enough.â
âAlright,â you wave, hands still covered in dirt as he makes his way back to the sidewalk before jogging off and out of sight.Â
You finish planting and watering before you place all your tools in the shed and head back inside. Simon sits at the kitchen table, watching the tv that plays some movie from the living room.Â
âHey, sweetheart,â he greets without looking away.Â
âHi baby!â you chirp, making your way over to the sink so you can scrub your hands free of dirt, âI ran into Kyle outside!â
âWho?â he asks, barely showing any hint of interest.Â
âOne of the guys from next door!â you remind him, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands dry, âTurns out theyâre both in the military!â
âIs that right?â that finally gets his attention.
You nod, turning to look at him, âI offered to introduce you but I think theyâre a little scared of you after all.â
He laughs through his nose before standing up, approaching you in a couple broad steps. He crowds you against the counter, hands on either side of you to prevent you from fleeing, âThink they wanna fuck you, lovie.â
You swallow thickly and look up at him, âTh-Theyâre just flirtsâŚâ
He hums, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, âThink I donât know blokes like that? Young guys in the military like them only think about stuffing their pathetic pricks into whatever tight, wet cunts they can find.â
âS-Si, I havenât showered yetâŚâ you whisper when he starts trailing his lips along the side of your neck, âI was outside, remember?â
He scoffs, âWhat kinda man do you take me for?â
You giggle, squirming your way out of his hold, prancing past him and towards the stairs, âYou can show me what kind of man you are after a shower.â
A grin spreads across his face as he chases after you, your sweet giggles music to his ears and cock already hard and heavy against his thigh, ready for you to be beneath him or the night.
He waits patiently for you to finish your shower. The second youâre out, a towel the only thing wrapped around you, he has you pinned on the bed.Â
âYou like keeping me waitinâ, lovie?â he huffs, nipping at your jaw as he tugs your towel open so he can palm your breasts. You spread your legs for him, legging your knees rest on his hips, âLeavinâ me here with a hard-on. Got my cock achinâ, sweetheart.â
âSiâŚâ you sigh wistfully, lashes fluttering as his dirty words make you clench around nothing, âI-Iâll make it up to you.â
âOh?â he grins, broad tongue licking flat over one of your nipples, âI like the sound of that. You gonna let me use that pretty cunt?â
âMhm,â you whimper, hands coming up to grip his strong shoulders from the pleasure his tongue brings you.
âSo sweet for me,â he hums, rough hands sliding down your body, over your hips and trailing along your thighs until goosebumps rise on your skin. He brings two fingers between your legs to spread your folds apart, the sticky noise audible between the two of you and it makes him snicker, âYouâre this wet?â
Your cheeks burn in humiliation, âSh-Shut up, donât be mean.â
âMean?â he asks incredulously, âYouâre callinâ me mean while Iâm playinâ with this pretty cunt?â
You open your mouth to retaliate but he slides two thick digits into your pussy. You whimper at the burn that it causes but it fades quickly when he crooks his fingers just right to prod that sweet little spot inside you.Â
Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he surges up to pull you into a kiss. You whimper into the kiss as he continues to stretch you open on his fingers, carefully introducing a third so you can take his cock later with ease. As you kiss, you grind your hips against his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit. The pleasure makes you sigh and shiver, a sweet little sound that makes Simonâs cock twitch in interest.Â
The kiss is sloppy and wet, messy strings of spit between your lips every time you part to take a breath. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his fingers as he fucks you with them, scissoring his digits to really stretch you out. He doesnât know how much longer he can waitÂ
âPlease, Si,â you gasp, the plea making him stop, glancing over your face to see how badly you really need it.Â
He sits back on his knees, flingers sliding out of your cunt with an obscene schlick. He unbuttons his jeans and moves the fabric out of the way so he can pull his hard, leaky cock free. He wraps his hand around himself, using the slick covering his fingers to lube himself up.Â
âTake it off,â you whine, making him pause.Â
He wants you so bad, just wants to fold you up and stuff his aching cock right in the tight, hot clutch of your pretty pussy. But the puppy-dog eyes youâre giving him has him huffing and obeying.Â
âYouâre lucky youâre cute,â he mutters, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt so he can yank it over his head.Â
âFuck,â you whisper, leaning up to run your hands over his chest and abdomen, feeling the firmness underneath your explorative fingers while he rids himself of his pants and boxers.Â
Once heâs finally bare, he gives you no more time to admire his body before heâs pinning you down underneath his massive weight. You canât do anything but let him, breathing in his scent while enveloped by his overwhelming warmth.Â
He grips the base of his cock and slides the tip up and down between your folds, circling your clit to spread his precum all over it before meanly slapping the head against the little bud. The impact makes your thighs twitch and jump, a choked whimper of his name escaping your throat.Â
You arch your hips just right, finally drawing the fat head of his cock into your clenching cunt. He grunts, thumb coming up to swirl against your clit.
âOh, that feels so good, Si,â you whimper, your praise making his whole body shudder as he works his hips forward, sinking more of his cock into you.
âI know, love,â he chokes out, eyes pinned on where you slowly take him inch by methodical inch, âI treat this little cunt just right, donât I?â
âUh-huh!â you whimper, thighs twitching against his waist when he hits that sweet spot with practiced ease, sinking balls deep easily with how absolutely soaked you are for him, âNo one fucks me as good as you, Si.â
He plants both hands on either side of your head, pulling his hips back so only the head is enveloped by your hot little pussy before he rolls his hips forward and stuffs his full length right back inside. He hits your cervix, a painful shot zaps up your spine and makes you grasp his arms to dig your nails into his skin.Â
âIâm the only one who gets to fuck you, lovie,â he huffs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as an apology for hurting you.Â
His next thrust isnât as deep, avoiding slamming against your poor cervix but still deep enough that he can grind his pelvis right against your clit every time his hips meet yours.
âSimon!â you squeal, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your orgasm building.
âFuck, look at that,â he grunts, head hanging between his shoulders, his wild hair tickling your face as he watches the creamy mess youâre covering his cock in, âMakinâ a fuckinâ mess, lovie.â
âYouâre gonna make me cum!â you sob, hands slapping against his shoulders when he suddenly redoubles his efforts, encouraged by your announcement.
âI know I am, sweetheart,â he grunts, teeth clenched, âAlways make this pretty cunt cum donât I?â
âYes, yes, yes!â you wail, throwing your arms around his neck, nails drawing thick, red marks down his back, âCumming, cumming, cumming, Si! Fuck!â
He curses right in your ear, one arm wrapping under your arched back to pull your chest snug against his. He grinds his cock into you, no longer pounding into the gushing heat of your pillowy cunt, humping his pelvis against your clit to work you through the orgasm.Â
When you sag against him, sticky cunt still spasming around him from the aftershocks, he starts fucking you again, this time to his own end. He grunts and groans in your ear, body trembling from the effort of getting his own orgasm â his reward for making you cum nice and hard around him like you deserve.Â
âShit, I love you sâmuch,â he slurs, lips getting loose from how close his high grows closer. His heavy balls slap against you, aching from how full they are, needing to fill you up with the load he built up just for you, âMy pretty baby, so sweet and wet for me. A nice, perfect cunt for me to fuck, shit.â
Your cunt clenches pathetically at his filthy words, hearts in your eyes as you watch how handsome he looks with his brows furrowed and his pupils blown huge, making his brown eyes appear black, âLove you, Si. Please cum inside me, wanna feel you cum, please.â
He pants, slumping against your chest as he uselessly works his hips until his orgasm finally washes over him, spilling his cum inside you with a final, long, drawn out moan.Â
âShit, thatâs it, baby,â he whispers, hoarse and breathless as his cock throbs and pulses, spitting out ropes of cum that fill you up just right, âTake it all.â
âAhâŚSiâŚâ you sigh softly, carding your fingers through his hair as he rests against you, waiting for his cock to stop twitching from the aftershocks before he pulls out.Â
âYou alright, lovie?â he coos, soothing his large hands over your body, âYou did so well.â
You smile, cheeks warm and body buzzing from the incredible dick he had just given you, âNever better. Youâre so handsome.â
He scoffs, rolling over to toss his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He picks up his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe off his softened cock, cleaning the mess of your combined cum off of himself.
You hum, âI have to take another shower. Would you like to join me this time?â
He looks up at that, eyes twinkling in interest.
One afternoon, thereâs a knock on your door that interrupts your peaceful dinner preparations. You wipe your hands off on your apron and make your way to it, passing by where Simon is transferring the wet clothes into the dryer.Â
On the other side stands Soap, an empty tupperware container in his hands.Â
âHey there, darlinâ,â he greets, holding the box out, âGaz and I loved âem.â
âIâm glad to hear it!â you giggle, taking it from his hands, careful not to touch his hands with leftover vegetable residue on your own.
âSomethinâ smells heavenly,â he groans, leaning over your shoulder to take a whiff of the aroma drifting from your kitchen.
âIâm just making dinner,â you explain with a little shrug.
âGuess youâre one hell of a cook too, huh?â he compliments, a charming smile on his face.
âI get by,â you laugh.
âSay,â he says suddenly, âIs that big bastard really your fiance?â
You blink in surprise at his bold question, âY-Yes..?â your response comes out more as a question.Â
âIs that a problem?â a deep, annoyed voice comes from behind you.Â
You jump when Simonâs firm, tattooed arm wraps around your waist, âSi, you should be watching the stove.â
âYou go ahead and finish up, lovie,â he mutters, kissing your temple before shooing you away from the door.Â
âAh,â Soap clears his throat awkwardly, as his back straightens, âSimon was it?â
âYouâd be wise to watch your tongue,â Simon warns, âIâm not above putting you in your place.â
âY-Yes sir,â Soap whispers, hands clasped behind his back, âIâll be more mindful.â
âGet the hell off my porch,â Simon orders, watching the young man tuck his tail and dash down the stairs.Â
Simon quietly closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen where you were plating the food, âEverything okay, Si? You werenât too hard on him, were you?â
Simon bites back a smile and takes the plates from your hands to put them on the table for you, âWho do you think I am?â
You give him a skeptical look before taking a seat in front of your food, âI donât want to make enemies with our neighbors, Simon.â
He sighs, taking a seat across from you, âAlright, Iâll be nice, love. I promise. Iâll go over tomorrow and apologize for beinâ rude, will that make you happy?â
âYes,â you smile, âTheyâre not too bad. Theyâre justâŚrambunctious. You said so yourself, you know how their types are! Theyâre just flirts.â
He nods, âTheyâreâŚinteresting characters.â
The next day, true to his word, the next morning, Simon is standing in front of their door.Â
âOh, hello neighbor,â Kyle greets nervously, âIs there something you need?â
âYour friend,â Simon grunts, âIâd like to talk to him.â
Kyle looks worried for a second, glancing over his shoulder where Simon assumes Soap was, âWhatever he did, donât mind him. Heâs just an idiot.â
Simon huffs out a laugh through his nose, âI wanted to apologize to him.â
âOh!â Kyle gasps before looking back over his shoulder, âSoap, door for you!â
Soap rounds the corner and freezes when he sees Simon standing there, âHello, sir.â
âSoap, right?â Simon says, âListen, I was rude last night. I wanted to apologize.â
âAh, well,â Soap shifts on his feet, casting a sideways glance at his friend, âI-I deserved it, I shouldnât have said what I said either. Your relationship isnât any of my business.â
Soap actually looks like a kicked puppy and Simon feels his own interest piqued, âPretty, huh?â
âSir?â Soap blinks in confusion.
Simon says your name, âPretty little thing. Canât blame you for makinâ eyes.â
âIâŚâ Soap licks his lips, blue eyes wide in shock, âW-Well, yes, sir. Very pretty.â
Simon laughs softly, glancing over at his house where he knows youâre bustling about inside, âYou think theyâre pretty now. You should see them in nothing, bent over the kitchen table in tears.â
Soapâs throat moves as he swallows around the lump in his throat, mind conjuring up sinful images. Kyleâs eyes practically bug out of his head at Simonâs words.
The large man gives a tight lipped smile as a goodbye before he's stalking off of the porch, leaving the two young men slack-jawed and stunned into silence.Â
When Simonâs in the safety of his own home, he places a hand over his face and lets out the low chuckles he had been holding back.Â
âWhatâs so funny, Si?â you ask when you descend from the stairs, a laundry basket in your hands â the second load from yesterday that you hadnât had the chance to do.
âNothinâ, lovie,â he grins, sharp canines on display, âLet me help you with that.â
âDid you make up with the neighbors?â you ask, letting him take the basket from your hands.
âI sure did,â he coos, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leading the way to the laundry room.Â
You give him a suspicious look but decide not to press the issue further, instead choosing to focus on the other chores you still had to do for the day.Â
Things seemingly settle down for a little while. You donât see either of your new neighbors except for polite greetings in passing. All in all, things seem to quiet down.Â
Youâre relaxing with Simon on the back veranda, curled in his lap on a swinging bench with a book in your hands. Usually, youâd be scrolling on your phone but Simon was always adamant about being tech-free when you were outside together like this.
Enjoy nature and relax he would say, only laughing when you would call him an old man.Â
Just as you start a new chapter in your book, Simonâs hand begins to wander. Your lips twitch as you fight smiling, watching his fingers slip beneath the leg of your lounge shorts. The feeling of his callused skin brushing against the hem of your panties already has you clenching around nothing.Â
âLook so pretty like this,â he coos in your ear, hand coming from between your legs to wrap around your throat.
You smile against his lips, âI havenât even gotten dressed yet today.â
âI know,â he breathes, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, simple kiss before pulling back to add, âYouâre pretty without even havinâ to try, lovie.â
âYouâre just trying to butter me up so I let you in my pants,â you tease, practically melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking the skin of your cheek.Â
âDonât gotta butter you up for that, do I sweetheart?â he coos, âYouâll let me right between those thighs without even havinâ to ask.â
Your lashes flutter at his words, heart pounding in your ears because heâs right. Even right now, your panties have grown sticky. His thumb traces over your lips and you open your mouth to let the digit inside. The action makes him raise a brow.
âYou want somethinâ down that little throat?'' he asks. You nod your head, not caring how desperate you look, âEven with our little audience over there?â
He watches your eyes widen, clearly startled out of the moment. Your gaze flicks past his face to see your two neighbors Soap and Gaz on their back porch, both nursing beers. They look away when your gaze falls on them but itâs clear theyâve been watching the whole interaction with your fiance.Â
âDonât care,â you find yourself muttering, eyes falling back onto your fiance.
âThatâs what I thought,â he huffs, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours, âKnew you were filthy, donât mind if anyone watches you as long as your pretty cunt gets to cum, yeah?â
You feel breathless as you nod your head. Simon brings his index and middle fingers to your lips that you eagerly open up for him.Â
âGood,â he praises, slowly slipping the fingers into your mouth, careful not to gag you on them until youâre ready.Â
Your lips seal around the digits, rolling your tongue over the salty skin until theyâre covered in spit. Then he slowly starts sliding them deeper into your mouth until the tips are buried in your throat.
âRelax, just like that, good,â he praises, cock leaking against his thigh at the sight of your eyes filling with tears. He pulls his fingers back carefully just to stuff them back in, biting back a groan when you choke around them.Â
Simon casts a glance over his shoulder to see the two neighbors you were giving the show to watching with wide, unblinking eyes. Neither could take their eyes off of you as you eagerly let your fiance fuck your throat with his fingers.Â
He could see Soap had his hand on his crotch, no doubt gripping his hard cock. Kyle at least had enough pride to not touch himself to the sight of you.Â
You reach up to grab Simonâs wrist, signaling for him to pull his fingers out of your mouth. When he did, a string of thick drool connected your lips to the tips. The sight made his cock throb painfully, desperate for some kind of friction.Â
âI want you, Si,â you whimper, reaching down to cup his hardened cock through his pants.
âIs that right?â he asks, raising a brow, âIs that pretty little pussy wet?â
You nod your head, âWant your tongue, Si.â
He licks his lips, chasing the fantasy taste of you before glancing back over to the neighbors who now donât even bother hiding the fact theyâre watching the two of you.
âWant me to eat you out right here?â he asks, subtly gesturing his head to next door.
âDonât care about them,â you whine, a cute little frown on your face that he just couldnât say no to.Â
Before you knew it, Simon was on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. You eagerly spread your legs, locking your arms around your knees to let Simon have as much room as he needed.Â
âLook at you,â he coos, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, exposing your drooling entrance and swollen clit.Â
The little bud twitched under his heated gaze, hole dribbling out more thick juices that made his mouth water. He canât resist the call anymore, leaning forward to slide the flat of his tongue over the length of your cunt, ending with a flick against your clit that made your whole body twitch.Â
âThaaaaatâs it, pretty,â he coos, muffled from the way he refuses to part from your cunt, âLet us hear you.â
Your mouth falls open as he starts eagerly tonguing your pussy, swirling the muscle inside your hole before coming up to wrap his lips around your clit. He eats messy, not caring for all the drool and cum that covers his face or drips down to the floor below.Â
He uses his thumbs to keep your folds spread so he can focus on your clit. His tongue swirls around and around, lathering the poor little bud in a heavy film of his spit before heâs wrapping his lips around it again and sucking.Â
The feeling makes your back arch and you canât help the loud moan that tears from your throat. Your nails dig into the soft meat of your thigh, the only thing you can grab from the position youâve chosen for yourself.Â
Simonâs eyes are closed and thereâs a crease between his brows of concentration. Neither of you even remembers the fact youâre outside and have an audience of two just next door. All you can think about is how good your fianceâs tongue feels worshiping your clit.Â
âSi!â you squeal when he reaches up to tug the hood of your clit back, exposing the little bud for him to tongue at. Itâs so sensitive that it aches but it feels too good to stop him, only able to lay back and twitch as you take it.Â
He groans in response to you calling his name, cock leaking down his thigh so much that his sweats are sticking to him. Your slick drips off of his chin and he can think of nothing but how good you smell and taste â a 5 star meal all laid out just for him.
âOh, Iâm gonna cum!â you cry out, âYouâre gonna make me cum, Si!â
He canât even bring himself to pull his mouth off of you to encourage you like he usually does. Instead, he doubles his efforts, slurping and sucking at your clit. His jaw is aching but itâs barely a blip on his radar as he feels the tender little bud throb beneath his tongue.Â
Your orgasm washes over you quickly and hard. Your eyes roll back in your head as your jaw falls open, a symphony of pleasured cries flit through the air. Your fiance eagerly works you through the orgasm he so easily gave you, tongue swirling and circling your clit until your thighs clamp shut and you push him away, still trembling and shaking from the aftershocks.Â
He pulls back, chest heaving as he finally takes the first deep breaths heâs gotten since he started.Â
âGood?â he asks, licking his lips to clean your cum off of them.
You nod, breathless, âTake me inside and fuck me, please Si.â
Heâs on his feet in seconds, scooping you up bridal style before hurrying back inside, forgetting all about the book you left behind â and the audience still on the porch next door.Â
You learn that Simon seems to really enjoy torturing your two neighbors when just a few nights later, he corners you in the bedroom.Â
âOur neighborâs a nosy little bastard,â he coos into your ear.Â
You cast a glance over to the window where you can see Soap is lingering in front of his window, acting like he wasnât watching and waiting to see what would happen next.Â
âHeâs waitinâ so patiently,â Simon says, âItâs only polite of us to give him somethinâ to look at.â
âGlad to see youâre finally being neighborly,â you tease, a cheeky grin growing on your face.Â
Simonâs fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, sliding it up and up until you lift your arms and let him tug it over your head. Your bare breasts bounce free and Simon sucks in a breath at the sight.
âFuck,â he coos, large hands cupping them, âCanât believe I get to marry you some day.â
âWe still need to pick a date,â you mutter, voice cracking when he wraps his lips around one perked nipple.Â
He groans against your chest, âIâd marry you right fuckinâ now if youâd let me.â
You whimper, hands carding through his messy hair before he abruptly pulls away. He grips your shoulders and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest and youâre facing the window â and Soap, who still stands there stunned.Â
Kyle pops in from the left, mouth dropping open at the sight of your tits on full display for them to ogle. Simon stares over your shoulder, watching their reactions as he gropes your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.Â
You canât stop the soft whimpers and gasps that fall from your lips as he plays with your nipples. Your thighs clench together, a weak attempt to quell the ache that settles in your cunt. You never thought youâd enjoy being watched like this â it felt so dirty and wrong but thatâs exactly what turned you on. The fact your neighbors wanted you so badly that they would just watch you get touched like this.Â
âYou wanna give âem a show?â he asks, voice dark and deep in your ear, âSomethinâ theyâll be fistinâ their cocks to later?â
âYes, anything, Si,â you whimper, hands coming up to grip his wrists as he squeezes your breasts, âIâll do anything you want.â
âThen get on your knees,â he orders, letting your chest go so you can drop to your knees in front of him, âThere you go. Just where you belong.â
He unbuckles his belt and pulls his zipper down, reaching inside his boxers to pull his half-hard cock out. You watch with wide eyes as he slowly strokes himself to full hardness.Â
A bead of precum oozes from the tip and it makes your mouth water. Before Simon even says anything, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock. A soft, sweet sound comes from his throat at the feeling of your hot, soft tongue sliding over the sensitive skin.Â
His hand comes down to cradle your jaw, lidded gaze watching how you start to take him deeper.Â
When he feels his cock pop into your throat, it feels like the air gets punched out of his lungs. His touch moves from your jaw to your throat, feeling the way it bulges the deeper you take his length down.Â
He glances out the window to find Kyle has joined watching with rapt attention at how you swallow his cock. The sight of it makes him pulse in your throat and you whimper at the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue.Â
When youâve swallowed all of him that you can take, you bring up a hand to stroke him to the same rhythm that you bob your head. Simon tosses his head back, brown eyes rolling into his skull at the sloppy sounds of you choking and drooling all over him.Â
He feels your spit dribble down his balls and over your chin to his hand. Itâs everything â itâs messy and sloppy. He canât even bring himself to look at you, too scared heâll blow his load right down your tight little throat before he can even fully enjoy it to the fullest.Â
âFuck,â he groans, the sound going straight to your cunt. You canât help but slip your hand down your panties, finding your cunt slippery and wet. Your fingers circle your clit as you gag around your fianceâs thick cock.
âThatâs it, lovie,â he huffs, âTouch that pretty cunt for me.â
Your lashes flutter at his words, rocking your hips against your own touch. Simonâs hand rests on the top of your head, slowly starting to rock his own hips, heavy balls slapping against your chin with the movement. You halt stroking him with your hand and brace yourself against his thigh, giving him permission to fuck your face as he wants.Â
âThere you go,â he grunts, teeth gritted, âCum on those fingers for me and Iâll cum down your throat, yeah? Think you can do that?â
You nod your head, doubling your efforts between your legs. The mess of drool that Simon fucks out of your mouth froths and drips everywhere, the entire endeavor growing messier and messier with each thrust he makes.Â
Simon watches the way your eyes roll back in your head, thighs twitching and spasming around your hand. He can feel the muffled vibrations as you whine against the cock filling your mouth.Â
With a final, deep groan, Simonâs balls draw up and his brows furrow before heâs spilling right down your throat â as deep as he can. You eagerly swallow around him, taking down every single drop he has to offer.Â
When heâs finally done, cock still twitching in sensitivity as he slowly softens, he pulls out. His cock was a mess, drool and cum still clinging to the skin in sticky strings.Â
âFuck,â he laughs breathlessly, âThat little throat is dangerous.â
You giggle, biting your lip as he moves towards the window, sending a last look to your neighbors before drawing the curtains closed. End of the show, it seems.
You never thought about how you would feel when youâd have to face your two neighbors again. Given the fact they were actively in the military, you could go days before you caught sight of one of them again. Ever since Simon had started this little game of teasing the poor guys you hadnât actually spoken to them face to face.Â
âI invited Soap and Kyle over for dinner,â Simon muttered one late afternoon as he sipped on a cup of tea.
You nearly dropped the knife you were using to chop vegetables as you turned to look at your fiance in shock, âYou what?!â
âSaw them while I was out on my morninâ run,â he explained, taking a sip from his cup that was all too nonchalant for the utter anxiety that you felt, âThought Iâd be neighborly and invite them for dinner since we havenât yet.â
âSimon!â you cry out indignantly, âHow am I supposed to face them!?â
âWhat do you mean?â he asks, hiding his smile behind the cup.
âTh-Theyâve watched us do all sorts of shit!â you whine, turning back around to anxiously cut the vegetables once again.
âSo?â he hums, âWeâre all adults. You think they canât act normal just âcause theyâve seen you with a cock down your throat?â
You let out a frustrated sound, âYouâre so-!â
âRelax, sweetheart,â he croons, placing his empty cup down, âItâll be okay, I promise.â
You should have known better than to believe him. Simon seemingly couldnât resist teasing the two men. As soon as all four of you were sitting at the table, you knew right away that this was not going to be the peaceful dinner you were hoping for.Â
Kyle and Soap were painfully quiet, trying their best to keep their eyes off of you in fear of making your fiance angry. Simon was keenly aware of this and before any of you had a chance to finish your meals, he was pushing his chair back and pulling you from your own seat, your back pressed against his front.
âI think we all know what we want,â he sighs, âSo why donât we cut the shit and get on with it.â
Rough, experienced fingers slowly start undoing the buttons on your shirt. You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead.Â
One by one the buttons came undone, your fiance giving you ample opportunity to stop him and back out should you decide this wasnât something you wanted to do. But you never did.
Your breathing fastened and your heart raced in your chest at the excitement of the whole situation. Soap and Kyle sat in their seats, wide eyes following each methodical movement of your fiance until the final button was undone and they were able to see your bra.Â
Kyle licked his lips at the sight of your breasts wrapped in the sheet material, giving just a hint at what was beneath.Â
Soap follows Simonâs hand as it slides down your front to the button on your jeans. The button comes undone followed by your zipper, giving a little peak of the maroon colored panties you wore.Â
âWhat do you think?â Simon asks them, nosing softly at your cheek until you let your head fall to the side, exposing your neck for him to kiss.Â
âA fuckinâ dream,â Soap whispers, sounding like heâs in a daze.Â
Kyle audibly gulps, too lost in a daze to say anything as his eyes practically burn holes into you.Â
After pressing a kiss against your jaw, Simon finally slides the shirt off of your shoulders. The fabric flutters to the ground but you donât have time to think about it before the clasp of your bra is undone and your bra joins it.Â
Both men at the table inhale sharply at the sight of your bare breasts.Â
âPrettier up closeâŚâ Kyle mutters, resting his chin on his hand, simply admiring the view before him.Â
Simon takes a second to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands before his thumbs hook under the band of your pants and tugs them down. You shimmy in place, helping him tug them over your hips until they pool on the ground and you can step out of them completely.Â
âSteaminâ bloody Jesus,â Soap whispers, leaning even closer from where he sits, trying to get an even better view of you standing in just a pair of pretty, sheer maroon colored panties.Â
âArenât they so lucky?â Simon coos in your ear, one hand slipping between your thighs to cup your clothed pussy while the other eagerly gropes your tits, âGettinâ to see you like this when only I should get to.â
âSiâŚâ you whimper, gripping his arm in your hands as he carefully strokes you through your panties.Â
âWhat do you say, men?â Simon asks sharply, glaring at your two guests.
âThank you, sir,â both of them say in unison without taking their eyes off of you.Â
Simon hums, seemingly satisfied enough to slip your panties down so youâre completely bared â the only one naked in the room. It made your cheeks burn in humiliation but that humiliation only made your wetter.Â
Simonâs fingers slid between your folds, a sticky noise accompanying the movement. You hear him suck in a breath when he feels your slick coating his fingers. You lift your leg and place it on the nearby chair, giving both men at the table a perfect view of your pretty cunt being spread by your fianceâs fingers.Â
âThere you go, lovie,â he coos, âShow them how wet you get for me.â
He slips his middle finger inside, letting it slowly sink in the final knuckle. Your lashes flutter at the feeling of being stretched but itâs not enough â one finger would never be enough when youâve had his perfect cock inside you so many times before. So Simon quickly slides his ring finger in right alongside his middle and your head falls back against his shoulder.Â
You practically forget about the two pairs of eyes on you when he crooks his fingers just right and grinds the tips against that gooey little spot that makes your thighs tremble.Â
âSi!â you squeal, nails biting into his wrist as you grind your hips, humping your hardened clit against his palm.Â
âYeah?â he responds, tucking you firmly against him so he can fuck you properly with his fingers.Â
Youâre unable to stop the cries and sobs of pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm with every press of his fingers against your sweet spot and every slap of his palm against your clit. Drool drips down your chin as your whole body twitches, eyes rolling back in your head as the orgasm builds and builds.Â
âFuckinâ hell,â Kyle breathes, a trembling hand placed over his mouth in awe.Â
Finally, your high washes over you and you slump forward, held up only by Simonâs strong arm grappled around you. Your knees tremble as Simonâs fingers continue to fuck you through it until youâre gushing in messy spurts all over his hand every time his fingers are stuffed back inside. It splatters to the floor and drips down your thighs, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.Â
Simon pulls his fingers out of the hot clutch of your cunt with a humiliatingly loud squelch before he pops the digits right into his mouth, humming at the taste of your cum on his tongue.Â
He lifts your chin up and immediately plants his lips right on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You sigh into the kiss, cum-drunk brain getting lost in the familiar affection. You donât even notice Simon undoing his jeans until you feel the hot, blunt head of his cock prodding your entrance. You whimper into his mouth when he simply ruts his hips, sliding the head back and forth, over your clit and back down â coating himself in the cum he had already fucked out of you with his fingers.Â
âHow are you boys enjoyinâ the show?â Simon asks, suddenly reminding you of their presence.Â
You dazedly look at them, finding both of them sitting back in their chairs, stroking their cocks in the open. Soapâs got a thick, veiny cock that looks like it would make you cry if you tried to take it down your throat. Kyle, on the other hand, has a long, pretty cock adorned with a piercing on the tip that makes your cunt clench around nothing just imagining what it would feel like. Maybe you should ask Simon to get a piercing just to see.
âFuckinâ incredible, sir,â Soap chokes out, squeezing his cock tight in his fist.Â
Simon chuckles under his breath before his attention turns back to you, a well-practiced rut of his hips sinks the head of his cock into your warm, sticky cunt. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, eyes accidentally locking onto Kyleâs, who is watching you with a dark, focused gaze.Â
You find yourself unable to break eye contact as your fiance slowly and carefully stretches you open on his cock until he finally sinks to the hilt, full balls sleeping against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip to suppress the absolutely sinful sound that threatens to escape your lips.Â
Simon groans at the feeling of being clutched so tightly by your precious cunt. Your hand comes down to circle your clit with desperate, shaky movements until youâre suddenly cumming around his cock.
âShit!â Simon practically howls, blunt nails biting into your skin as he holds your twitching body against his through the sudden orgasm youâve given yourself, âCumminâ just from gettinâ my cock in you? So sweet, lovie.â
You whimper his name in a little hiccup, tearily looking up at him from where your head thumps back against his shoulder. The pathetic look in your eye is what prompts him to start moving â fat cock sliding out of you before a powerful roll of his hips ends it back deep. He prods your cervix in a way that makes pain mix deliciously with pleasure â an addictive feeling that only Simon could ever give you.Â
His harsh thrusts jostle your entire body, your tits bouncing in time to the movement. Youâre not able to keep quiet, every time he sinks deep, it punches a moan out from your lungs. His heavy, fat balls slap against you, only adding to the lewd sounds of squelching and moaning.Â
Soap and Kyle continue to stroke their own cocks to the sight of your getting fucked. Leaking cocks squelching quietly in their own grips.Â
âShitâŚâ Soap groans through his teeth, âWish I could wrap my lips around that pretty clit, darlinâ.â
You whimper, eyes rolling back at the very thought of having a tongue worshiping your neglected clit. With Simonâs cock stuffing you full, you know it would work the most magnificent orgasms out of you.Â
As if sensing your greedy thoughts, Simon wraps a rough hand around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, âFelt that little cunt squeeze me when he said that. My cock not enough for you?â
âY-You are!â you sob, tears filling your eyes from how he starts an even rougher pace, âJ-Just wanna cum, Si!â
Your fiance scoffs at your words, harshly knocking your leg off of the chair that you had it propped up in. You cry out at how the angle changes with his hand still wrapped around your throat, forcing you to arch your back to look up at him. His cock grinds incessantly against that gooey little spot that makes your entire body twitch every time he pounds against it.Â
Itâs even more difficult to keep yourself upright without the chair to help, both your knees are shaky and if Simon wasnât holding you tight against his chest by your throat, youâd certainly be slumping to the floor.Â
Simonâs hand tightens around your neck and it cuts off the noises that are escaping. Your vision fuzzes up as your orgasm builds and builds.Â
âSi, Si, Siââ you choke out, drool dripping down your chin, âPlease, Iâm gonna cum, youâre gonna make me cum!â
âCourse I am,â Simon snarls, letting his free hand drop to your clit, harshly slapping the little bud before rubbing soothing circles around it.Â
That sends you over the edge, gushing all over him and down your thighs. You squeal, unable to do anything except hang on for the ride as Simon fucks you through your high until he reaches his own end â spilling his load inside you without a second thought.Â
Youâre left trembling and twitching, gasping and whimpering with tears dripping down your cheeks. Finally, Simon allows you to slump forward, your chest meeting the kitchen table as he pulls his softening cock from your dripping cunt. Sticky, thick strings of his cum connect to his length from your clenching pussy. He soothes his hand down the length of your spine, soothing the little trembles that still wrack your body as you come down.Â
âHoly fuckinâ shit,â Soap pants, wiping his cum-covered hand off on his pants.
âYou,â Kyle adds, âare one hell of a neighbor.â
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