#anyway ily thank you for this it made me smile <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[recareels]

your hair look so soft i wanna run my hands through it so bad 🥹 waaahhhh

ohhhh my gosh ran!!! (*ﾉω���) i actually love having my hair played with and pet SO much so this sounds like a dreammm hehe <3 thank you so much tho!!!

[youaresimplylovely]

"He Called me Pretty!" - CS 55

summary: in which Carlos and Y/N is baby sitting Penelope and Leo, suddenly Carlos calls his wife pretty which makes her all cute and giddy <3

pairings: Carlos Sainz x Pregnant Wife!Reader

warnings: none, pure fluff like fr

word count: 1,439

a/n: we r so close to 900 aaaa ily allllll u deserve to be fed with thisss also should i make a carlos sainz x pregnant wife reader series!?!!? also penelope's nickname as we all know is "p" <33

[re edited version, added: taglist, taglist form, and feedback form]

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Being pregnant was two things for you, awesome and horrific.

Cause who the fuck told you that it would be this horrendous? And a whole rollecoaster ride. First trimester was pure hell, that's what you would yap and yap all night and day long to your husband. What's great about him is he would always say "Ay mi amor you know if I could just take the pregnancy for you, I would." He'd chuckle, which made you a laughing mess.

Meanwhile, second trimester was a more chill, God how you thanked everyone who told you that. Now you were 6 months in, so close, so close Y/N. You'd repeat to yourself.

Boy were you thankful to have a husband like Carlos cause honestly your whole pregnancy consists of being mean to him, pouting like a kid, and being his big baby.

Like one night, the cold air brushed against your whole body making you shiver. A loud whine and groan escapes your mouth, eyebrows furrowing and mouth with a full on pout as you open your eyes seeing your husband take all of the duvet in. Not even leaving space for his beautiful pregnant wife!?!

You didn't say you anything, you just sat there pouting like a kid with your arms crossed while you stared at him. Carlos has a strong feeling and urge to suddenly wake up which he never really gets especially at 3am but boy did he had the feeling. He opens his eyes lazily, eyebrows furrowing like yours as he sees you pouting and glaring at him.

He groans. "mami?" he says in his groggy but still hot voice.

You didn't even answer him, you just pouted and gave him a playful but still slightly rough smack on his shoulder as you turn around to face the wall.

A chuckle comes out of Carlos's mouth, he loved his wife. He really did, even if it was one of these times. He smiles happily still sleepy as he wraps the duvet around your body while his hands gently pulled you in closer to him. He wraps his arms around your belly, gently rubbing it knowing that finally his beautiful wife is warm and happy as he mumbles words.

"You saying something?!" you snap, still with a pout on your face but that soon melted away feeling your husband's warm touch but most especially the duvet of course.

"That i love you." He utters, pressing kisses against your neck.

You smiles happily, putting your hands on top of your husband's which was still on your baby bump. "I love you too." you mumble as you drift off to sleep.

Few weeks later, you get a sudden text from Max and Charles asking if you could babysit P and Leo. You didn't hesitate to say yes, you loved the two of them, you and Carlos have been babysitting them for quite a while since Charles and Max always had these "best friend" times together. You beg to disagree, you were always team lestappen.

What you didn't expect is too see the two kids, yes Leo is considered a kid cause he is a freaking kid even if he's a dog and we love him. Anyways, you thought Max and Charles would be there to accompany them inside but instead when you opened the front door you saw P smiling happily like the little girl she is with her pink backpack and Leo wagging his tail and his tongue out.

"HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII" P exclaims happily with a bright smile as she opens her arms.

Your jaw dropped but you changed it to a smile, seeing the two of them. "Hiiii!" You match P's energy as you lean down to pick her up in your arms and Leo in the other.

P smiles happily seeing you as she wraps her arms around you and gives you kisses all over your cheek which she always does and so does Leo. You giggle, feeling the warmth of the kisses of the two kids, small licks of Leo on your left and P's kisses on your right.

"Maxie and Uncle Charlie went out again, maybe they're on a date." P giggles that was followed by a huff from Leo, the pup sure did agree to his older sister.

"I swear, your dads have more dates than me and your uncle Carlos." You mutter, making P laugh as you close the front door. Once you closed the door, Carlos came right downstairs with a smile on his face.

"If it isn't my two favorite kids." He chuckles, approaching you guys closer as he quickly gives P a peck on her cheek and eventually taking Leo from your arms.

You smile, watching Leo lick Carlos all over his face. Your head turns to P as you smile at her, gently putting her down to the couch while she lays down comfortably, inhaling the fresh air and the coldness of your house that she loved.

While P laid down comfortably on the couch and Leo and Carlos are having a sweet moment, you head over to the fridge to grab the puppuccino you saved just for Leo.

"Didn't Charles say no more puppuccinos for Leo mi amor?" Carlos chuckles, seeing you with the small cup on your hand.

"Yeah but this little cutie deserves to be spoiled." You giggle, kissing Leo on his head as you hand Carlos the puppuccino to give to Leo. "And you pretty girl." You smile, sitting next to P on the couch. "i made you cookies."

Those cookies lasted not even five minutes for P, she really loves your baking especially your cookies. As the hours passed, all four of you just stayed and chilled on the couch while watching tv. P was nestled in your lap, her head laying down against your baby bump that she loved caressing.

"You're big." She giggles, giving pecks on your baby bump as she eventually looks up at you with those cute little eyes of her.

"Yea, i sure am." You laugh, sighing softly. Lately, you've just felt so soft-hearted, you don't know why. You've been clingy to Carlos and he's absolutely into it. You really don't know but it's definitely a cute look on you.

You didn't even notice Carlos's soft gaze on you. He was staring at you like a teenager in love as he caresses Leo with his hands who was now asleep. Carlos was so happy to have you especially when you got pregnant. He loves and adores you so much that in most days you don't even notice his loving stares.

"You look pretty." He smiles softly, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek as he looks at you and that cute little sundress of yours.

It was like your world stopped and your heart melted so much. It's not that Carlos doesn't say you look pretty, in fact he does say it everyday but something was just different today. You felt the loving presence of your husband and his love for you.

You pout cutely, eyelashes fluttering as you smile at him. "What did you say?" You ask him softly, knowing damn you well you heard him but you wanted to hear that word again.

"I said you look pretty mi amor." He smiles, scooting closer next to you, his other arm wrapping around your shoulder as he places a soft kiss on your cheek.

You couldn't help but smile and giggle, you were like a little girl getting a doll. "He said i look pretty!" You say to P with pure happiness and joy.

"You are pretty!" She giggles, moving to your side to give you a kiss on your other cheek.

Carlos smiles at the beautiful sight but he wonders why that was your reaction even if he always said it everyday. "I always say that to you everyday mi amor." He says with a confused look but still with a smile on his mouth.

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I know you do, it's just it feels different now and i don't know i just love you so much that i feel so happy and giddy even if all you said was that i looked pretty."

He smiles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "I love you more."

After being together for so long you still loved your husband and his cute but small actions that gave you butterflies even if it was just a simple "you look pretty." Still, you couldn't contain your excitement. "He said i look pretty!!" You squeal once again to P who was matching your energy.

@pear-1206 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @euphoricchills @charlesleclerx @inchident-jpg @amethyst-bitch @dr4g0ngirl @likedbygaslyy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @httpstoyosi @evermore55 @bibissparkles @lokideservesahug @darleneslane @shelbyteller @spookystitchery @bearryyy @justtprachisblog @alliwantisadonut @papaya-twinks @casperlikej @funnelcakeee @xoscar03 @snapeeballsack @silverxxs-world @thearchieves @destinyg237 @juliee4everial @thebasicbiatch @67-angelofthelordme-67 @tallrock35 @sya-skies @hockeyboysarehot @iloveyou3000morgan @sugaspawsmari @aymfsts @khaylin27 @be-your-coffee-pot @yettobedetermined7 @dhanihamidi @formula1simp @bokutos-babyowl @peachiicherries @youdontknowmeshh @nyramylove @annispamz @formulaal @scout-likes-sharks @valentine @oliviah-25

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[ghsface]

bro I love ur writing so much idk if this is how you request but tbh idgaf anyways. anyway can you write something abt Matt x reader at a party and doing some page 136 icebreaker shit? (I think that’s the page but idc) anyway yeah ilyy 😍😍😘

New Message ✮⋆˙

hey pretty, ngl I didn't read that book but I looked up what that page of the book is about and OMG THAT WAS HOT ngl, I tried to do something similar because I don't know the context very well, I hope you like it, ily too<33

I hate you - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You decide to provoke Matt at a party...

Warnings: smut +18 orgasm denial, teasing, sexual tension, explicit content, semi public sex, unprotected sex (don't do it), p in v, oral f receiving, dom!matt x fem!reader, hate sex?, I don't think I've forgotten anything, if I do, let me know.

A/n: ngl at first i liked it but now i hate it i don't know why like i love it but at the same time i hate it ugh i hate that feeling yk, i trying my best i hope you like it anon, and thanks for the request!!, my first language is not English, so I'm sorry if there is something wrong or things that are not understood.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

You arrived at the Sturniolo triplets’ house with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Nick had mentioned that he, you, and Chris were going to a party, and the thought of hanging out with them cheered you up, especially since Matt, Nick’s brother, wasn’t going to be there. For as long as you could remember, you and Matt had been mortal enemies, the competition between you was fierce, and every interaction always ended in insults and challenging glares. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you got ready for the night, hoping that your outfit would make you feel like the best version of yourself.

You had gotten ready in Nick’s room, enjoying the time you spent with him and Chris, who joked around with each other as they waited for you. Finishing up, you made sure to take one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs. As you opened the door, however, a familiar laugh made you frown. Matt was sitting on the couch, his mocking expression already in place.

“Are you really going out with that? You look like a desperate," Matt said, with that provocative look you knew so well.

Your instinct was to ignore him, but you couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh.

"Didn't you say he was staying home?" you shot back, looking for Nick's gaze.

Nick, who was about to respond, stopped when he noticed the tense atmosphere between you.

"You know, I couldn't miss this party," Matt said, raising his hands in a gesture of false innocence. "Besides, I wanted to see you make a fool of yourself."

"As if you were the best example of behavior," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're a fucking annoying bastard."

Matt smiled maliciously, enjoying the challenge you offered him.

"I've always thought it's my job to screw up your life."

"You don't have a job, you're just an idiot," you replied, gritting your teeth as you tried to stay calm.

Nick, visibly amused by their daily fights, decided to intervene.

“Guys, please, can you stop fighting, at least for tonight? If you have so many problems, fix them in bed.”

The two of you stayed silent, the tension palpable.

“Nick wtf” you said indignantly, and confused as to why Nick said that.

“It's just a joke, but if you really have so many problems, fix them somehow,” Nick said, laughing.

“You know we're going to go now because we'll be late.” You felt caught between your desire to continue arguing and your desire to leave things like that. Finally, you decided not to let Nick's joke affect you anymore.

“Come on, let's go now!” you exclaimed, gesturing to get out, knowing that Nick and Chris would follow you.

In the car, the atmosphere was tense. You sat next to Nick, feeling like Matt was shooting daggers at you from the driver's seat every time he stopped the car for a stoplight. You couldn't help but feel his intense gaze on you in the rearview mirror, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on the music Chris had turned on.

During the ride, the conversation between Nick and Chris flowed, while you did your best to stay away from the conversation, thinking about how awkward that night would be. However, deep down, there was a spark of excitement. The idea of ​​going to a party always put you in a good mood, and even if Matt was there, you wouldn't let him ruin your night.

Arriving at the party, you were the first to get out of the car and enter the party, leaving the boys behind you. When you entered, the energy of the crowd was contagious. You headed towards the bar, looking for something to drink. You ordered a few drinks, and within minutes, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade away.

After a couple of drinks, the atmosphere was more relaxing. You looked around, looking for Matt, although you didn't know why you were looking for him. When you found him, he was chatting with Chris, but his gaze landed on you immediately, like a hunter stalking his prey. The way he looked at you made you nervous and, at the same time, provoked you. A stupid idea crossed your mind.

You decided it was time to play. You walked towards the dance floor, letting the rhythm of the music envelop you. With sensual movements, you began to dance, feeling Matt's gaze intensify from a distance. The game had begun, and you wanted him to feel it. You touched your body provocatively.

It wasn't long before you approached a boy who was dancing near you. Without a second thought, you pulled him towards you, moving with a magnetism that you knew would irritate Matt in some way. With each twist and turn, you noticed how his expression became darker and angrier.

"Do you like what you see?" you mouthed and threw Matt a wink from across the dance floor, enjoying the discomfort you were causing.

As you got closer to the boy, his hands wrapped around your waist and ran down your body, and the closeness was electric, he was a cute boy but he was definitely not your type. You felt like Matt couldn't take his eyes off you at any time. With each movement, you grew more confident, enjoying the provocation you were causing him.

Suddenly, you felt a firm hand grab your arm, and you didn't need to look to know who it was. Matt was staring at you with a mix of anger and desire, dragging you off the dance floor into an empty room.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he said, slamming the door shut behind you.

"I was just dancing with a friend, do you have a problem with that?" I replied, crossing my arms in a defiant gesture. "Did you think I was going to stand there with my arms crossed while you stared at me like you wanted to kill me?"

"You're provoking me, and you know it," he said, slowly approaching, his voice low and full of tension. "You in your damn dress and the way that guy touched you."

You felt powerful and vulnerable at the same time. You knew the tension between you had been building up for years, and now it was on the verge of exploding.

"Are you jealous Matt?" you challenged, smirking. Let me get one thing straight, you shouldn't be bothered by who I talk to or dance with.

"I'm going to show you who you belong to." He whispered in your ear and before you could protest he kissed you.

He found you against the wall, his lips crushing against yours in a fierce kiss that seemed to distill all the rage pent up between you. It was an uncontrolled kiss, full of passion and hatred, and the line between the two of you quickly blurred. When you finally broke apart, you were both panting.

“I hate you so much,” he murmured, his breathing ragged as his eyes fixed on you with an intense heat. “But at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your response was almost automatic. “Then fuck me like you hate me.”

He didn’t wait any longer. He led you to the bed in the bedroom, and his hands began to roam your body, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Every kiss and every touch was a declaration of war and desire, and there was no turning back.

He took you into a whirlwind of sensations. He began to undress you slowly, as if he was enjoying every second, every little victory. The friction between rage and desire was palpable in the air, as if the room was about to explode. His hands explored every corner of your body, letting desire take over both of you.

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he whispered as his lips moved down your neck.

“And you’re an idiot,” I replied, feeling the rage you used to feel transform into overwhelming desire.

Your body trembled with anticipation as Matt kept his gaze fixed on you, desire burning in his eyes. The tension between you had reached a breaking point. Boiling, and there was no turning back.

Anticipation grew as his hands slid down your sides, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses on your abdomen. “I’m going to make you feel good,” he promised, his tone a mix of certainty and defiance. But there was a warning in his gaze. He knew he wanted to play, and so did you.

Matt lowered himself slowly, his breath warm against your skin. It took you by surprise when his mouth closed around you. An involuntary moan escaped your lips as his tongue worked beautifully, licking and sucking with a skill that made you lose control. The way he looked at you, with those eyes filled with desire, made you feel more vulnerable and aroused at the same time.

The combination of his attention and the growing pleasure brought you to the edge, but just when you felt like you were about to explode, Matt stopped.

“I’m not going to let you finish that easy, baby,” he said in a whisper, looking up, and his eyes were filled with a mix of anger and desire.

At that moment, you felt like you were capable of anything. The rage that had built up for so long turned into pure lust. You gave yourself to him, letting yourself be carried away by the sensations he offered you.

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the fabric of your dress as he slowly pulled it up, exposing the skin of your tits. The room was permeated with an air charged with defiance and attraction, every movement between you causing a spark that could ignite the flame at any moment.

It took your breath away when his mouth found yours again. It was a fierce kiss, full of desperation and rage, every brush of his lips was like a reminder of all the battles you had fought in the past. He pushed you further into the pillows, his body pressing against yours, making a mix of pleasure and frustration run down your spine.

Matt pulled away for a moment, his assessing gaze sweeping over every inch of you. He knew he was in control. He held you tight, trapping your hands above your head and holding them firmly in place. The feeling of being completely at his mercy turned you on in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

“You’re not getting away today,” he said, whispering in your ear as his warm breath sent a shiver down your spine. Then, he moved down again, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, each touch making you want more.

Matt’s hands roamed your body with meticulous precision, exploring every corner and curve as you tried to control the desire building inside you. The way he touched you was both a punishment and a pleasure, each brush of his fingers a reminder of how much he’d wanted this, how much you’d both wanted this.

His mouth continued its descent, leaving warm kisses on your chest. Every time his tongue brushed your skin, you felt like you were on the brink of insanity. But Matt had no intention of letting you go so easily. When his lips found your breast, he sucked hard, marking his territory as you gave yourself over to the mix of pain and pleasure.

“You’re as stupid as you are beautiful,” he said between gasps, the tone of his voice heavy with contempt and desire, as his hands slid down your hips. You squirmed against him, seeking more, wanting what had begun to become something even more intense.

He released you for an instant, just so he could strip you completely, each piece of clothing falling to the floor as a symbol of your surrender. The feeling of being vulnerable before him, exposed and desired, awakened a side in you that only he could provoke.

Matt stood up, looking at you with that mix of defiance and desire that drove you crazy. He approached you again, and with a quick movement, he pushed you down onto the bed, causing you to fall onto the soft surface. He leaned over you, his body covering yours, the pressure of his weight making you feel trapped and aroused.

“Now I’m going to show you who’s boss here,” he declared, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made the air between you seem charged with electricity.

Without further ado, Matt plunged into you, filling you with his body as the room filled with sounds of passion and desperation. Every movement was a mix of strength and gentleness, as he entered you with a brutality that only he could combine with an almost fierce devotion.

Amidst broken whispers and gazes filled with desire, you feel how both of you leave behind any trace of arrogance or defiance, allowing yourselves to feel the pleasure, although neither of you admit it, you have always wanted. Matt intertwines his fingers with yours, holding you tightly as he continues to look at you with an intensity that makes you shudder.

“You drive me crazy,” he finally murmurs, with a sincerity that momentarily breaks through all the hatred between you.

Moans escaped your lips without you being able to contain them, and with each thrust, rage and desire intertwined in a wild dance. Matt kept up the pace, his hands squeezing your wrists as he penetrated you with unwavering fervor, making it clear to you who was in charge.

“Tell me,” he commanded, his voice low and husky as his body crashed into yours, the sound of his skin against yours echoing in the room. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you answered, each word laden with surrender as your body moved in unison with his, feeling the line between pleasure and pain blur.

“Say it again,” he demanded, increasing the pace as his thrusts became deeper, more frantic. The room was filled with whispers and sighs, each sound fueling the unbridled passion that burned between you.

“You,” you repeated, each word an echo of your desire, the recognition that everything you had felt for him was coming to the surface in this explosion of madness.

“Good girl,” Matt says with a arrogant smile

The friction between your bodies was intense, and each thrust brought you closer to climax. The mix of pleasure and rage was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help it, desire taking over you, making you forget everything but the present moment. In an instant of pure connection, feeling the barriers that had existed between you melt away, you let the pleasure sweep you away, allowing the world around you to fade away.

Matt finally found his own climax, his eyes locked on you, filled with a mix of triumph and insatiable desire. The two of you found yourselves in a whirlwind of sensations, each of you taking the other to new levels of pleasure and surrender.

When you finally stopped, both of you panting, the room was filled with a silence laden with meaning. You knew that nothing would ever be the same again, that the line that had once separated your hatred from desire had been blurred forever.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

Tags... @bsturnzmtt @leannking @sturniololover69 @bells-sturn @sturnedits <3

[bcyhoods]

could I request [ rest ] sender lays their head on receiver's shoulder and falls asleep there with shy!reader and steeb? 🫶🏼

posting this before the scary lady in my head tells me to delete it! ily thank you for the req <33 | 0.9k gn!reader

“I am not tired, Steve.”

It was a complete lie, and he looked at you with a poorly-concealed grin like he knew it, too. The inside of his cheek is bitten between his molars, lips still curling up at the ends, and it makes you want to sink into the cushions of the loveseat.

Steve never gets enough credit for how observant he is. It really only increases tenfold when it comes to you, so he knew you were sleepy as soon as you crossed the threshold into Nancy’s apartment. He noticed every abnormally slow blink, every stretch and readjustment of your posture, every swallowed-down yawn. He knows you too well.

An arm is thrown over your shoulders as he dips his head to speak quietly into your ear. “Are you sure? ‘Cause we can leave whenever you want.”

When you lean back to look at him, his eyes rake over every feature of your face. The pools of honey make the journey from your lips, across your nose and cheeks, to finally land on your own eyes. Any mischief you thought you’d find in his gaze is replaced by something much sweeter, softer. His arm slithers from its place around your shoulders so that he can cup the back of your neck, gently massaging the knots so that your shoulders relax.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat. You can smell the licorice candy still on his tongue.

It almost made you concede. Almost.

While you would’ve loved nothing more than to leave and spend the rest of the evening hidden underneath the covers with Steve, it felt too much like an imposition. It’s only so often that everyone’s free at the same time, you don't really want anyone to suffer at the hands of your lethargy.

And the implication that you were bailing on movie night for other reasons would earn groans and whistles that you don’t think you’d ever live down.

A nervous giggle bubbles up as you push at his chest with your growingly clammy hands. “I promise. I couldn’t be more awake.”

“Really? That true?”

“Mhm.”

He challenges you with a hum of his own, furrowing his brows to look more stern. But that same infectious grin from earlier threatens to crack and spill the fondness underneath the surface. When you nod, with a cute big smile on your face, he’s a goner. He leans over to press a kiss into your hairline and pull you closer into his side before turning back to the tv.

You think he’s given up. It was just one movie, it really wasn’t supposed to be that difficult.

But then his fingers kept brushing shapes and swirls into the exposed skin of your arm. In between the occasional forehead kiss, he’d whisper his commentary into your hair. At some point he’d picked up your legs and thrown them over his lap — something that lit a fire in your chest and had the flames licking your face. Then he’d started scratching your back, caressing your calves.

It was all his fault. Your head just inevitably became too heavy to bear on your own, and now you’re effectively drooling on his shoulder.

Steve is having a really hard time holding in the I told you so that sits so impatiently on the tip of his tongue. But he’s managing. Equal parts because he thinks you’re adorable and because he wants you to be fully cognizant when he says it.

“Baby,” he coos, pushing strands of hair out of your face. A quiet noise of acknowledgement comes from your mouth, but you only push further into his hold. Steve’s face starts to burn at the snickers from the kids that you’re blissfully unaware of. At the moment, anyway. He tries again, “Baby, the movie’s over. Ready to go?”

You stir, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your palms. “Huh?”

“The movie ended.”

“Oh,” you reply lamely, still disoriented. It isn’t until you see Robin and Eddie’s smirks of amusement from across the floor that an anchor of embarrassment sinks into your stomach. You lift your head up and immediately wipe at the dampness on the corner of your mouth.

“Good morning,” Steve pokes fun. He tries to rub soothing circles into your back, but it’s entirely too overwhelming, and it makes you move to sit properly and hide in your hands.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. I swear I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I was just so drowsy, and now you have drool on your shirt and it’s…it’s so embarrassing, I'm sorry.”

He chuckles, “Hey, no it’s not.” He decides to double down when you stay quiet, “I promise, it’s not. Don’t be sorry.” His voice is soft, touch gentle as his hand rests on your knee.

You turn to peek at him through the space between your fingers and just as you suspected. His smile is easy. Warmth radiates off of every bit of his being and it makes your embarrassment slowly begin to melt away. Your hands fall into your lap and reach out for his own, intertwining your fingers.

“You know I would’ve taken us home, right?” He asks. The word home slips from his mouth so easily that it makes your heart bang relentlessly against your rib cage.

You bite your lower lip to contain the smile that mirrors his own. “Yeah, I know…that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“Wh…That’s fair.”

[luvistqrzzz]

THE ACCIDENTAL POLAROID- 21- FINALE::: it's like a polaroid love ( written::: 0.5K )

'Where are you taking me, Chae?!' You screamed blindfolded as you felt your three friends around you, leading you out of Hueningkai's broken car.

'Ssh! It's a surprise', she replied, taking your hand and pulling you into a room. 'I swear to God if you're kidna-' your voice died down as Sunoo removed the blindfold and you were met with the somewhat familiar surroundings of... Hungry Jungle diner.

You stood there, frozen in your spot and feeling tensed because you knew who'd be there. The guy you'd met (? sort of ) in this place. The exact one standing on the small stage staring into your eyes.

The silence was broken by Chaewon gently tugging at your hand and leading you to an empty table. You quickly looked away from him, embarrassed. Who thought it'll be a good idea to bring you here? You could almost kill your friends if only you didn't love them so much.

Heeseung cleared his throat, catching your attention, 'The last song for today is my uh own song and it's written for a special someone. I hope yall enjoy it.'

A soft melody filled the place as he started singing but his eyes were on you.

Why am I relying on to love?

It's obvious feeling anyway

I believed I would know everything

I guess it as trap that I fell for even I knew it

You couldn't help but blush at his voice and the sweet lyrics. Maybe giving the letter wasn't that bad of an idea. Even if the room was filled with people, for you, the chatter died down almost like you and Heeseung were the only ones.

It's like a polaroid love

It's not going my way

I don't even have any trendy filter

But I love that vibe

He finished it, a small hopeful smile on his face. Heeseung muttered a small thank you and bowed before leaving the stage.

Alarmed, you quickly got up, following him as he walked towards through the back door. 'Yah Lee Heeseung!'

He stopped in his tracks. This wasn't part of the plan. He had planned to properly confess to you after the night ended, not like this. 'You can't just walk away after singing that song and making me go crazy.'

He turned around to face you but before he could say anything, you ran up to him, pulling him into a kiss. His eyes widened but he slowly melted into it, pulling you closer by the waist.

You didn't even know what had gotten into you but there you were kissing him out of the blue, a thousand butterflies going wild in your stomach.

'I'm sorr-' '- sorry.' You both burst out into laughter, faces still close to each other. Heeseung caressed your cheek. 'Soooo, what do you say, girlfriend, let's get out of here', he suggested.

You playfully shoved him, 'Who said I was your girlfriend, polaroid boy?!'

Prev | Masterlist

SUMMARY- Lee Heeseung doesn't believe in love at first sight but what happens when he accidentally clicks a polaroid of a girl at the local diner? A girl he can't seem to get out of his mind.

Will he be able to return you the polaroid or will love follow him along the way?

GENRE- smau with written parts, college!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, crack, angst (veryyy slight), slight love triangle

TAGLIST- open! send an ask or comment to be added- @yenqa @xuimhao @ddazed-lhs @astrae4 @ghostiiess @seungminstaehyun @haechansbbg @chaechae-23 @ak-aaa-li @whippedforbeomgyu @ahnneyong @ineedaherosavemeenow @jhopesucker @j-wyoung @tnyhees @liliansun @rikizm @jadeluvsenha

(Bold=cannot tag)

AN- ANDDDD THATS A WRAP!! Omg i cant believe that its finally over my first finished smau😭😭😭 i cannot gurantee a bonus chapter but imma try TT!! Tysm to alll who supported this smau ily ily your comments and feedbacks really made my day <33 this was such a silly idea but it turned out fun i hope yall enjoyed it too🤧🫶! See yall in love theory iggg ;))

[hayakawalove]

hello my dearest rem :33 i hope your day’s going well!!! and that the sun is shining for you!!!!! i’m here to assign you your very own genshin bf <33333

here he is …. the little meowmeow himself

this is kaeya <33 and i know w all my heart and soul that you would love him bc i trust your taste more than anything on the planet <33333 HE’S SOOOO. like. he makes me fully insane…. and he’s very much sugucoded….. tragic backstory + charming and sly + a bit of a liar + secretly a sweetie. you get the vibes 🙏🙏 he’s one of my favorite little guys ever and i know you’d adore him <3333 and he would adore you right back <3333333

he’s just such a Rem character i had to tell you abt him 😭😭 but for what it’s worth i think you’d also love his brother diluc >:3 my other absolute fav hehe. anyway ILYYYYY i’m hugging you so tightly n kissing your forehead softly <333 mwah mwah!!

ARI ily i hope today is going well for you i am hugging and hugging you

HES SO CUTEE the long hair got me. When you said his name initially i was like okay let’s see what this guy looks like. Looks him up. Long hair. YEAHH it’s my weakness I TRUST YOUR TASTE TOO i think We overlap on mostly everything other than Kenny but trust that i am not past the point of Not wanting him. I just. Want to figure out what’s wrong with him first KFJKDKCKDJFOFO

A BIT OF A LIAR DOKCODJCKDJFODIFK if a blorbo is manipulative it’s Hot okay. I don’t want to delve into the psychology of why i think that.

AND DILUC I’ll have to look up on him too. ILY THANK YOU FOR THIS THIS MADE ME SMILE

[teddybeartoji]

MICKEYYY i’m sneaking out of my blanket fort… leaving a treat and some flowers on ur bed (ominously)……. 🥞🌻🌷🌹🛌 i hope ur day is going super nicely !! :33 IT’S TECHNICALLY SPRING HOW R WE FEELING it’s still gray n sludgy here :((( but i hope it’s better where u are !!!

anyway anyway i just wanted to check in w u BUT i also wanted to ask….. what hq ep are u on + who r ur faves so far ?? 👀👀 idk if u’ve met noya and asahi yet but i love them sm they’re my pookies. IT’S SUCH A FEEL-GOOD SHOW ISN’T IT it makes me smile sm too !! T—T

ily mickey i’m crawling back into the blanket fort (sneakily) (ominously)….. tell armin i love him <3

ARIIIIII MY LITTLE IRIS<33333333 i love me some ominous flowers mwahahahaha thank you they're so beautiful!!!!! IT'S VERY MUCH SPRING HERE TODAY!!!! idk how long that's gonna last but today is super super good!!! it's sunny and it's not too cold either wahhhhh i'm automatically feeling so fresh n hyped lmao I'M GONNA SEND SOME OF THE SUN TO YOU THOUGH I'LL CUT IT IN HALF AND YOU'LL GET THE BIGGER SIDE I PROMISE!!!!!

here's the guy!!!! we just went outside we both wanted to feel the sun<333333 i wanted to go to the park but uhhhh my period kinda has me in lockdown though💀💀💀 fuck that bitch but even that little piece of sun made me feel so much better already🌻🌻🌻🌻

HQQQQQQQQQ I LOVE IT SOOOOO MUCH!!!!! i'm currently on season2 ep 12!!!!! I DON'T THINK I CAN PICK A FAVOURITE THOUGHHHHHH LIKE I LOVE THEM ALL THEY'RE ALL A BUNCH OF CUTIES ok maybe hinata is my favourite................ HOW COULD HE NOT BEEEEEEEEE HE'S A LITTLE RAY OF SUNSHINEE I NEED TO PUT HIM IN MY POCKET he gets so excited over everything and ahhhh he just means the world to me.....

i was gonna make fun of his height the other day bc he really is super tiny next to all of the other players but that was until he said that he's 163cm and................................................................................. i can't really make fun of him if we're LITERALLY the same height now can i.....💀

pls i almost cried already too...... the eps with tsukishima and his brother:((((((((((((((( when he saw that he wasn't even on the court:(((( yeah that got me a little bit but i'm so happy that he's more comfortable on the team now and that he's enjoying it!!!!!!!! i love him.

kuroo is so funny too............. hehehhehehe gojo has transformed into a high schooler....................................... pls the scene where tsukki asks him why is he even giving them advice when they're techically rivals and he just goes "well, i've just always been a really nice person" as the lighting is making him seem like some angel ahsghghasghaghah so silly i loved it a lot

WAITT BUT I ALSO LOVE NOYA AND ASAHI AAAAAAAAAAAA i've never loved the whole cast of a show this is kinda crazy. everybody being so afraid of asahi just bc of his size is so funny poor guy lmao ALSO bc you know i'm on my voice actor bs did u know that asahi's va is the guy who also voices kunikida??????????????????? SO COOL

OHHHHH ANDD WHEN HINATA AND KAGEYAMA FINALLY GOT THAT FAST ATTACK RIGHT???????????? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THAT WAS SOOOOO CUTE I LOVE HOW EXCITED THEY ALL GET WHEN THEY GET A POINT and i love how much they all praise each other all around????? "nice receive" and "don't worry about it" and "we got the next one"????????????????? wahhhh it really is a feel good show my cheeks hurt from watching it

i think i have an extra soft spot for sugawara too!!!!! he deserves his own little mention he's a sweetheart

THIS GOT SO LONG AGAIN WHEWW BUT I REALLY AM ENJOYING IT I LOVE THEM ALLL SO SO SO MUCH they all deserve a good hair ruffle (coach ukai is getting a cheek kiss he's so fine) WAIT ALSO I LOVE THE GIRLS!!! THE MANAGERS!!!!! THEY'RE SO SWEET OH AND TAKEDA TOOO FUCKKK I JUST LOVE EVERYBODY OKAY<333

too much love i might die ari please hold me..... cue very dramatic sigh.... IS YOUR BLANKET FORT COMFY DO YOU WANT ME TO MAKE IT BIGGER? BETTER? DO YOU WANT MORE SNACKS? TEA? COFFEE? MORE PILLOWS MORE BLANKETS????????? I NEED TO MAKE SURE YOU'RE FEELING GOOD THIS IS A MUST!!!! YOU'RE MY NR.1 PRIORITY!!!!!!! anyway i hope the sun will come out soon for you too i'm making the call rn I LOVE YOUUUU<333333

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hi hi !! sorry if this is weird but i just saw the tags you left on my poly!sashisu drabble and when i tell you i was giggling and kicking my feet reading through them?? i genuinely got so giddy going through your tags and seeing your reactions 🥹

i can’t tell you how much better you’ve made my day so thank you so so much for being so sweet !! your words made me smile like an idiot and i’m so glad you enjoyed reading my silly lil drabble (bonus points that you’re a fellow sashisu enthusiasts bc i swear there aren’t enough of us hehe)

anyways thank you so so much for all the love !! hugging you so tight rn <333

HIIII HELLO NOT WEIRD AT ALL PLS !!! THIS IS SO SWEET OF YOU !!!!!! T—T

u are so sooooo welcome, that drabble made my whole night!! tysm for writing it in the first place <333 FELLOW SASHISU ENJOYER WE MUST STICK TOGETHER….. 🫂🫂🫂 i’m hugging u soo tightly too 🫂🫂🫂🫂 no but i’m so glad my tags could make u happy, u deserve all the praise and more!! i know i alr said it but i seriously adore how u wrote their dynamics and care for each other :’3 u understand sashisu like no one else… i love them so dearly…..

ANYWAY just know ily <3 + that drabble will stay in my heart forever n ever!! tysm again!! <33

[thepavementsings-archive]

k my beloved 🥺❤️ you know im only good for piarles BUT for a little holiday hc™ to make you smile: i think pear and sharl would elope during the christmas/holiday season 🫶 although it's partially (see: mostly) because they're both kind of a mess when it comes to christmas (terrible at gift giving ideas even though the end result is always good, constantly clashing w their interior decoration ideas, neither can cook, etc etc) so it gives them one (1) year of reprieve before having to return to real life. they compromise on location: charles wins in that they tie the knot in monza, pierre wins in that they exchange vows in a teeny tiny church on the outskirts of town, and no one is there but them. (they're gonna hear it from pascale and pascale later but it's fine, they'll do something big and gaudy eventually) <33 they exchange rings the day before christmas eve and charles insists on spending their first real married day™ walking around in ugly sweaters ("i can't believe i agreed to this." - pierre "you're the one who married me 🥰" - charles) and then stay up all night until christmas day dawns. and pierre says something devastatingly catholic but still so romantic as day breaks on their little hotel room sanctuary, and charles tucks their ring-clad fingers together (ALL the rings. it's kind of a wild image) and kisses pierre's knuckles and just crushes the breath right out of him. the little fake tree they stole from the hotel lobby the day they arrived catches the light perfectly. they're husbands now. on the holiest day of the year.

of course, it works out horribly in the long run bc anniversary + christmas is HELL on gifting ideas, especially bc they're both a lil stupid, but it's ok because they're corny and would be all over that shit anyway.

(ily bestie 🥺❤️🫶💖)

"pierre says something devastatingly catholic but still so romantic" you GET IT. you get it.

In a teeny church on the outskirts of monza... you can see breath between them when they're laughing... and you KNOW they get back for new years and the Pascales can tell immediately what's happened.

oh this made me smile!!! thank you phoebe 🥰

[anantaru]

it's ur fav and very tired anon 🤠 hru my cutie I hope ur good ur hydrated eating good food (EXTREMELY important) and enjoying SUMMERRRRRR NAAAAAAHHHHHHHH BC U KNOW IVE BEEN PLAYING GENSHIN FOR THE LONGEST TIME AND TELL ME Y IM ONLY NOW HAVING DREAMS ABT IT I've been deprived and I also might just be a cheater bc u would think that the dream would be abt kaeya. NO. it was abt that sexy fucking bastard kamisato ayato and it was scrumptious icl but I'm going insane over these fictional men 😔✊️ free me from the shackles of delusion fr but ayato looks delicious icl and his mole near his lips is so kissable. If u need me to elaborate on the dream though 😏😉 yk what's so weird these days all I can think about is getting railed i highkey think I might go and speedrun thru ur works on ao3 ALL OVER AGAIN but when I first found you yk I spent 3 days where I just read ur works till night after school ur acc legendary u keep the genshin smut reading community together ILL SAY IT AND ILL SAY IT WITH CHEST ill acc fight anyone who disagrees like I can by u some glasses perhaps to prove my point but maybe if I knock some sense into u that won't be necessary 🤩😝🤡😊 ill be ur bodyguard for free also another thing bc ik ur the biggest heizou lover I finally got him at c3 but I NEED HIM AT C6 SO BADLY LIKE ⁉️ he's so underrated it's acc so painful he's literally one punch man what more do u want ffs 🫠 anyways abt my lvl 90 kaeya build nah bc his build rn is looking a bit shitty icl he's at crit rate 33 and crit damage like 99 (HE COULD HAVE JUST BEEN 100 MAN ) with 2 p gladiators finale and 2 p blizzard strayer but I'm trying to give him 4p blizzard strayer but I've based him heavily on atk and it helps so so much I gave him aquila favonia as well which is rlly good cos of the physical damage bonus but i haven't rlly even had time to build him as much as I would like bc life man and ayato needs to be built too I've been trying to get weapons for the characters I have weapon banner this time is looking great 5 star wise for my team if I get the 5 star catalyst -> heizou and if I get 5 star claymore -> noelle bc she's a tank or maybe beidou anything else I'll still be very happy anyways HAPPY GENSHINING LETS HAVE A GOOD SUMMER MI AMOR AND IM SENDING U HUGE VIRTUAL KISSES AND HUGS ILY HAVE FUNN OKKK ADIOSSSS

BYEJWJQJQJQ I AM LAUGHING SO HARD OMG BAHQHHQHQHQ LOVE I HAVE MISSED YOU 😭😭😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 I CANT THIS MADE MY ENTIRE DAY BETTER 💕💕🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️ you‘re so sweet i‘m so happy to have you here with me and whenever i see you in my askbox i smile 🩷 thank you for being here

[pumpkinnning]

hi, leo! <33 couldn't let you out of my silly trend of sending silly asks to my favorite mutuals. i know we don't know each other for long, but i adore you. i feel so so happy when we talk or interact on the dash and i also love your fic (dearly <3). since you like to write about magic, i think that it was appropriate to send you this quote. anyway, ily <3

Aw nikka, thank you so much, I'm sorry for being bad at replying to messages quickly, but this made me smile so much when I saw it ! I love your energy, it's so nice to see you on my dash <3 and that quote is lovely!

[oceanblueeyesoul]

hii is it alright if i have a matchup with wednesday addams ? it's okay if not, i don't mind !!

( i hope you know what shifting is cause i am going to describe my 'DR' self LMAOAOA )

my name is angel, i am a female who strictly uses she/her pronouns and i am omnisexual, VERYY much leaning towards women. i'm 150cm tall and i am on the slimmer side. i have long, straight light blonde hair that goes down to my bellybutton with a fringe. my eyes are so brown that most might mistake them for black, my iris is quite big, and rather than siren eyes i have big doe eyes. i have light freckles scattered across my cheeks and nose. i know appearance doesn't matter but it's fun to visualise LMAOAOAO

i am quite shy, even around people i've known my whole life. i'm also quite quiet, some of my classmates i've known for a while haven't really heard my voice. i don't speak all that much due to an insecurity i have with my voice but i won't touch too much on that because it's an uncomfortable topic. i'll try to describe it, it's a little soft and almost embarrassingly high pitched. it takes a good while for me to actually talk to somebody with my words, and genuinely open up. i am always willing to do anything not only for those i love, but for anyone. i'm too kind for my own good sometimes in the sense that i'm trying more to recognise when people are genuine or taking advantage of me. although i'm shy and quiet, i can be quite energetic and bubbly. often i'm calm, but when i'm happy or excited i'll be smiling non-stop and stimming. i've been told i'm mysterious which makes me cringe a little. i have a very good sense od humour, it's very very easy to make me laugh. some other adjectives to describe me are ditzy, observant, introverted, oblivious, shy, happy. i wouldn't call myself smart but i am most definitely not stupid, my lowest grade is a b. i'm smart with school subjects, but with other stuff is where my brain goes a bit cloudy. if i went to nevermore, ironic as it is, i'd most likely be an angel. if i went to hogwarts, i'd be a hufflepuff. i get along with 99.9% of people i meet. i know a lottt of people but only keep very few close. i LOOVE snow, rain & winter !! which is a pity honestly because i catch colds quite easily and i get cold easily but it doesn't matterr i love it anyway. my favourite season ever. lemons, gingerbread, fruit salads, strawberry jam and pastries (specifically donuts) are my favourite foods. i am a talented singer but nobody is aware because i'm to embarrassed to sing in front of anybody. i'm definitely a cat person as i admire that cats can not only be playful, but calm as well. my music taste is mainly lana del rey, pinkpantheress & tv girl. i like a lot of songs but these artists are in my playlist the most. i also love newjeans and red velvet's music but idk if people know them. i have a resting sad face so people often think i'm sad when they glance at me and i'm super insecure of that because i got called emo because of it </33

my clothing style is coquette, but i only really wear white clothing with the occasional grey and very pastel colours. i usually wear black mary janes and frilly socks and leg warmers. i love the snow clothing, the clothing with fluffy material. i prefer wearing clothing that fits my waist very well, and mini-skirts. i like wearing bows at the back of my hair and a little bit of jewellery. i don't like wearing too much, i don't like baggy pants - if i was to wear pants they would be low rise skinny jeans. most tops i wear fit me very well and are very often cropped.

i hope you don't find anything about me cringe because i get it often that my fav characters wld find me cringe and that i'm cringe in general which i find a little sad. i hope this wasn't too detailed. it's like one in the morning right now and i have nothing better to do LMAOAO thank you anyway if you made it to here !! thank you ily !! <33

Hi there, Angel! I really hope you like this a lot!

Wednesday (Netflix) Matchup

Your Wednesday (Netflix) soulmate is...

ENID SINCLAIR!

She would definitely love your outfits and would often steal some pastel outfits in your wardrobe when she runs out of new looks to wear for an important event.

She would definitely help you to come out of your shell a bit because she wants everyone just to see you as she sees you all the time.

She would definitely love your physical appearance the most because she thought you looked the most angelic out of the angels that she must be in heaven with you.

Huffledor x Hufflepuff soulmates!

[mattscoquette]

buying a pet fish with bf!matt

matt’s eye hurriedly scanned across the tank full of water and bright colored gold fish, studying each and every last creature’s movement, trying to find the perfect one.

“i think that one looks-” you began, pointing to one fish, being cut off by the sound of matt shushing you.

“sorry, i-” he rambled, pressing a quick and apologetic kiss to your head, “this is serious business.”

you giggled, rolling your eyes as you returned your head to its spot on matt’s shoulder, watching as he went back to intently looking at the fish. you and matt had been together for two years now, and when he sat you down last month saying he wanted to take things to the next step, you’d thought he meant something serious. like moving in together, (not that it mattered- matt spent about five days a week at your apartment anyway and was practically living there), or something of that level. but instead, he said he wanted to raise a pet with you. and not just any pet, a goldfish. you’d thought he was joking, but when you saw the look in his eye, you knew he was serious.

“i like this little guy.” matt mumbled, pointing to a small, orange fish that had seemed to just be swimming around aimlessly. you smiled up at him, eyes trailing to where his finger was pointing. the fish was cute, sure, but it looked like every other fish in the tank. still, you weren’t one to crush your boyfriend’s dreams of becoming a fish dad.

“he’s cute,” you whispered with a soft grin, “should we get him?”

he nodded, picking his head up off yours to look around for an employee to scoop the fish out of the tank for you. the both of you had already ordered a twenty gallon tank online for your apartment, and today was the day you decided to pick out a fish and bring him to his new home.

the employee made his way over, a poor teenaged boy who probably wasn’t getting paid enough to take requests of which fish matt wanted, but he did it anyway. matt couldn’t contain his excitement when the boy handed you guys the small plastic container that held your new pet fish. he brought the container up to his face, peering in through the plastic.

“hey buddy,” matt said gently with a smile, “you’re our fish now. we’re gonna be so good to you.”

“i don’t think he know’s english yet.” you giggled, softly nudging matt’s side.

“well, we’ll have to teach him then.”

you sighed, playfully rolling your eyes as you both headed to the checkout line, matt talking to the fish as if it were his own kid.

“you’re gonna love the apartment,” matt smiled as he blabbered to the fish, “we got you a big tank all for yourself. it’s gonna be sick.”

you turned to matt, faux concern plastered all over your face. “you’re not gonna like the fish more than me, right?”

he shook his head and laughed, kissing your nose swiftly. “no promises.”

© mattscoquette

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ thank u to my girl @lanaswifeyy for the idea ! ily angel <33 based off my my bf!matt texts series

[rose-tinted-juls]

i know you said tooth rotting fluff at the warnings but either i'm stupid and don't take things seriously (very possible) or i like to pretend fluff doesn't affect me bc i kept on reading, not prepared at all for what's coming. the squealing, the throwing my phone across my room (literally), the tear filled eyes, the biting my cheeks so hard they started bleeding bc i didn't want to actually scream. this was the fluffiest fluff i have ever read, and the best of them all. OMG i loved every second of reading this no matter the pain it caused me knowing it's not me and will never be me.

1. "it hits her like a ton of bricks, her anxiety skyrocketing as the elevator ascends, her stomach left behind on the ground level." why do i love this line SO MUCH, it's so good even if it's just a simple sentence

2. charles wanting to follow her back on insta but he can't IT'S SUCH A COOL TINY DETAIL OMG i love the tiny details you always put in your writing. things that are not so important plotwise but add that extra perfection to the story and make it just that tad bit more real in a way. thank you.

3. when charles said "hello, christyn" i swear i read it in his voice. i could hear his voice say that in my head and it was so weird but also the sentences you give him always make so much sense to who he is in my eyes, like i can totally imagine him saying the words you give him and in the way he says them. phenomenal writing!!

4. "that's why it came out in french" and "i said i want to kiss you" I'M SCREAMING

5. talking about tiny details, when charles leans against her palms just before their first kiss... THAT. THAT RIGHT THERE. honestly i just ADORE your writing skills.

6. "...and her voice sounds like smiles look." okay but who gave you the right to be so poetic now for real, mack 😭 this is a line i would circle a few times with a pen and add exclamation marks and little hand drawn hearts if it was a book i was annotating.

7. THEIR FIRST KISS. that whole scene really. the way charles thinks about how knowing this waits for him on the other side makes every flight and annoyance of flying worth it. <33 + "christ elliot. you are something." AHHH

8. that paragraph which is about arthur not being so good in english and charles correcting him, but chris not daring to, YOU'RE SO REAL FOR THAT ILY

9. chris not noticing charles is just joking when he mentions the size of luggage she came with AND then charles kissing away the pout on her face AND her saying "i like when you do that" AND him thinking "good. get used to it." this was the part when i threw my phone across the room.

10. chris holding a finger up to stop charles when she's reading and hurriedly finishing the page. SO RELATABLE, SO REAL, SO PERFECT. (and charles just laughing and having a stupid smile on his face as he continues watching her AWHHH)

11. when charles doesn't remember the word for heirloom. AGAIN, TINY DETAIL, SO IMPORTANT TO MAKE IT MORE REAL. how are you so talented mack??

12. "too busy kissing the girl" EXCUSE ME MR. LECLERC

anyway. this chapter made me squeal many times like i'm eleven or something and having a first crush or whatever. it's been a long time since i felt this way (and a long time since i felt so single and lonely lmao) so thank you mack from the bottom of my heart. it's a pleasure to be living in the same timeline as you do. <33

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

—03. i think i fell in love today —word count: 7.5k —warnings: despicable tooth rotting clawing my eyes out eating the stuffing in my pillows fluff. truly its horrendous. lets talk about it. —love, mackie... i'm sleeping hopefully. right now I am hammocking. the ice cream truck just drove past. I love June.

After Paris, Chris was a bit apprehensive when it came to her ability to navigate the airport in Abu Dhabi with any sort of efficiency. Especially not now, where she needs to go through customs and register for a visitor’s visa and find her luggage and get her money exchanged. Pleasantly, though, she’s surprised at the ease she works through her notes app checklist. It’s within the hour that she’s climbing into the backseat of a taxi and heading to the hotel. 

She spends the entirety of the twenty-something minute drive doing a deep dive on Joris’ Instagram. He’s going to be waiting for you, Charles had told her the night they’d worked it all out. How he knew his friend would be free is beyond Chris, but that's not even the bigger issue at hand. The issue is, of course, that she’s had no more than a momentary interaction with Joris in the background of a FaceTime call two weeks ago. The thought of breezing past him in the hotel lobby is a mortifying one. 

It’s quarter after seven by the time she gets there, and when she catches a glance of herself in a mirror on the wall and almost bursts into laughter. Someone could tell her that she fell down the stairs in Austin and hit her head and is in a coma and it would feel more believable than her life right now. This just… this doesn’t happen to her; five star hotels in foreign countries and heavy accents and guys who call her beautiful from the other side of the globe. 

She spots Joris in an armchair on his phone at the other end of the lobby. She approaches nervously, and he stirs from his phone at her sudden proximity. “Hi,” Chris greets, sounds almost apologetic for interrupting him. “Joris, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” he nods, dragging out the vowel sounds when he glances back down at his screen. Chris wonders if he knows he’s waiting for her. 

She smiles. “I’m Chris.”

“Right!” He snaps his fingers, shoves his phone into his pocket. “Chris.” He stands and opens his arms to hug her like they’re old friends. It’s a move straight from her book, one that she’s pulled on dozens of people before. It’s not one that she’s met with often. Chris thinks they’ll get on well, her and Joris. That’s a good thing, right? Friendly friends. 

Chris’ mom had told her more than once that the quickest way to know someone’s character is through their friends. Only a maniac is rude to animals and elderly and children, she’d said a million times over, it’s the character of the people they choose to spend time with that matters. Joris has no idea Chris is silently observing his every action, picking them apart on a human level.

On the elevator ride up, Joris fills Chris in on everything that’s happened during the free practices that day, tells her that it’s been a relatively clean couple of sessions. You do know of the risk this weekend, yes? P2 or P3, he asks and answers his own question. Chris nods. If she didn’t know, she does now. The room is on the fifth floor, she notes, staring at the glowing five button as she picks at her cuticles. It hits her like a ton of bricks, her anxiety skyrocketing as the elevator ascends, her stomach left behind on the ground level. 

This whole thing is crazy, and not the quirky, silly story you tell your friends about over a vodka cran crazy. Just plain crazy. Insane. Off the wall absurd. Why, why are they sharing a room? Why is she even here? What is it about her that can’t be found somewhere, anywhere, else? And the most prudent question, the one ringing in her ears louder with each passing moment; what is it about him? 

Chris has never considered herself to be logical, not in the slightest, but she does like to maintain the idea that she’s well grounded. She might not always act in a way that makes the most sense, but she always makes those choices within the bounds of her reality. 

And, because her nerves permeate off her like a thirteen-year-old’s B.O, Joris takes a stab at cooling her down. “How was your planes?”

“Good. Smooth.” she nods, forces a smile. Her weight shifts from heel to heel, thumbs looped through her backpack straps. The floor is a shiny black marble with white and gold veins, one that commands your attention. Chris pulls her eyes from it to look at him anyway. Nervous and insane or not, she wants to make a good impression. “I could do without navigating the airport in Paris ever again, though.”

“Oh,” he laughs. “It never gets easier.”

“Does any of it?” She offers up a laugh, but it’s as genuine as the smile her face held before. 

He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off with the ding of the doors opening. There, in the hallway with more marble floors and a wallpaper that walks the line between elegant and gaudy, a couple stands on a white carpet runner. The man has on a Mercedes cap. Chris wonders if they know a Formula One driver is staying on their floor. 

The four of them sidestep awkwardly around each other with polite smiles to the floor, and before she knows it Joris is holding a keycard over the lock on a heavy door and handing the piece of plastic to her. 

It’s not a room. It’s a suite. There’s a living room and a kitchenette and a whole separate bedroom to this place. It’s expensive, wildly so, she’s sure. 

She wheels her suitcase into the bedroom, leaves it in the corner by an armchair with her backpack. At the bottom of the bag is her purse, which she digs out while Joris is using the bathroom, moving things around from one bag to the other. 

The drive to the circuit is twenty minutes, at least, and Joris talks the whole time, mostly about how nervous he is and how hard he’s trying to make sure Charles doesn’t notice. Chris doesn’t tell him that Charles is also beyond nervous about the whole thing–or that he knows good and well everyone around him is losing their minds. It doesn’t seem like the type of thing that would make Joris feel any better. 

“Pascale and Enzo, you know them, yes? Charles’ Mum and brother?” Joris questions.

“Nope,” Chris shakes her head. “Not yet.”

Oh, he doesn’t say. “You’ll like them if you like Charles,” he laughs. “You do like Charles?”

Chris bites down on a smile, a laugh leaving her nose in an exhale. “I do.”

“Good, good.” He nods. “Anyway, they are not here tonight, they already have gone back to the hotel. Arthur is there, still. Do you know him?”

“I think it’s going to be easier for both of us if you just assume I don’t know anyone.”

“Ah, okay. Will do.”

Chris wonders what Charles has said about her to Joris, to Arthur, to anyone. All of the stories he has or hasn’t told them about. She has almost exclusively not talked about him back home. Not because she doesn’t want to, she just can’t figure out how to say anything without sounding like a reality television star. Maybe he’s the same way. There’s a real chance that nobody in his family even knows that she’s coming, and maybe that’s the way she’d like it to be. 

Her reunion with Charles couldn’t be more different than their first meeting. The paddock is empty with exception of team crews and straggling media members. There isn’t a Bud Light in sight and the pass hanging around her neck has a picture of her on the back. He must’ve pulled it from her Instagram, the one that he keeps talking about wanting to follow back. A picture of her and CHRISTYN ELLIOTT - FULL WEEKEND written in bold letters. 

“He’s probably at the briefing,” Joris explains, checking his watch and walking one stride for every two of Chris’. She tries her hardest to keep up with him as he expertly navigates the paddock, all while trying to memorize his moves so she doesn’t end up stranded sometime this weekend. 

A whistle gets their attention, cutting sharply through the hot desert air. Her and Joris both snap their heads around to find the perpetrator of the summons. Charles pats Pierre’s shoulder and jogs ahead of the group of drivers, all already engaged in their own conversations and heading off into different directions. 

He has such a carefree smile on his face, jogging over with happy eyes and wiggling brows and a stupid little wink that puts a smile on her face. “Hello, Christyn,” he quips, greets her with open arms. And then, once his arms are pulling her to him so tight she can’t take a full breath, when he has so much energy to give her he can’t help but rock on the sides of his feet, he whispers just for her, “Hi,” a soft kiss on the crown of her head, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

All she can think about is how warm he is. Warm, and smells so nice. She doesn’t know how she’s going to ever go home. Not when he’s so warm. 

“How was the planes?” He asks, an arm comfortable slotting around her as they resume their walk to wherever it is she’s being led. 

“Uh, I’m tired, but.” She smiles. At him. Right there where she can touch him. Where he is touching her. “I’m here, so. I’m happy.”

On the walk back to hospitality, she asks him how his day’s gone. He’s sure she already knows, that Joris talked her ear off the entire drive over or that she’d checked the media reports of the practice sessions, but it’s nice to pretend she doesn’t know. He tries to summarize everything as concise as he can, because even though he loves talking to her, he’d much rather listen. He can listen to her talk until the sun burns out.

He’s not surprised to notice that Joris has peeled off from them, especially not because he didn’t even realize he wasn’t trailing behind him and Chris until he held open the door to his driver’s room and Joris was nowhere to be found.

He can’t count the amount of texts he’s had to have sent Chris from his driver’s room. How badly he wanted to just be talking with her, and now she’s here. She’s here, she’s here, she’s here with him. 

He moves around the room, cleaning and reorganizing his things for a fresh start in the morning. Casually, he mentions that he has a sponsorship obligation tonight, last race and all, and that Arthur and Joris are coming along. He doesn’t speak it so offhandedly because he’d forgotten, but because he didn’t want her to get freaked out by the idea of it. He explains that she’s welcome to tag along, or, if she’d feel more comfortable, she can stay here while Andrea packs up his things. 

She’s leaning against the wall just next to the doorway, watching him. Without hesitation, she replies, “I’ll come with you.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking to her. “You don’t have to.”

She nods, looks at the ground or the couch or something that isn’t him, folds her hand to look at her nails and lets out an almost silent laugh. His stomach drops. “You sound like you don’t want me to go.”

“No, no.” He corrects, and she still doesn’t look at him. He waves for her attention, cocks his head to the side when he gets it, “No. That’s not. I just want you to do what you want to do.”

“I want to go.”

“Okay,” he smiles.

She crosses her arms over her chest, looks like she’s trying so hard not to smile at him. “You’re being weird, you know?”

He shrugs, because she’s right. “I told you I would be.”

“Well,” Chris sighs, moves across the room to the small couch in the corner, “why are you being weird?”

“Because.” I want to kiss you, he stops himself from saying. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you twenty minutes ago, since you decided to come, since I met you, maybe. 

“Because, why?” She laughs, and he’s suddenly struck with the thought of what her laughter might taste like. Sweet, surely, just like it sounds. Like a popsicle on a summer day. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he tries his absolute hardest to wipe that thought from his brain before texting his brother back. “Je veux t'embrasser tout le temps,” I want to kiss you all the time, he mumbles, isn’t even sure it actually leaves his lips or if he keeps it locked in the vault. He continues to send his reply to Arthur. 

“You know I don’t understand what you just said,” Chris reminds him. That’s why it came out in French, he thinks. Not everything is meant to be said. 

“I said,” he pauses, sends the text, looks back at her. God. “I said I want to kiss you.”

She crosses one leg over the other, looks down at her pants like there is something in her lap to fix. He can see the blush on the tips of her ears, even though she’s trying to hide her cheeks. When she does look up, face still flushed, she tucks her bangs behind her ears and replies softly, “you’re allowed to kiss me, Charles.”

He can’t believe he hasn’t yet. That he’d hugged the life out of her, kissed her hair and told her how happy he is she’s there, that he’d thought about kissing her for weeks, that he didn’t fucking kiss the girl yet. They’re sharing a bedroom tonight, and he still hasn’t kissed her. He thought about it, he did. But they’d promised to keep things as quiet as they could. Now, he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t have stopped him from throwing all those conversations out the window. 

If there wasn’t something weird in the air before, there certainly is now. A new weird. A good weird. An implication of something in the air, weird. It’s out there now, ust hanging above them. I want to kiss you. You can kiss me. Now all that’s left is for one of them to make the move. 

It’s the least he can do–make the first move. She flew across the globe, he can fucking kiss her. He wants to fucking kiss her. He feels like a little kid, the giddy smile that pulls on the corners of his lips when he walks over to her. He does little to conceal his intent.

“What?” She asks with a smile on her face. A tease, she has to know. 

He holds out his hands, palms forward to her and she follows his lead, reaches up to lace their fingers together. “I like you, you know?” He asks, leans his weight against her hands. Some hands are just meant to be held. 

She giggles like a child, pure and innocent and like nothing bad has ever happened to her. Like the childhood dog and all four grandparents are still kicking. “I can’t hold you up.”

“What?” He quirks a brow, leans more weight onto her hands and she laughs harder, her arms shaking below him. 

“Charles!”

“I said I like you, Chris!”

Through weak arms and uncontrollable belly laughs, she manages to choke out in gulps for air, “I like you, too.” In a swift movement, he recenters his weight on his own feet, pulling Chris up from the couch. The force of his pull almost knocks her from her feet, both of them still laughing, fingers dancing with the others on either side of their frames. The laughter is light and airy and barely there, but it’s laughter nonetheless. When their hands do fall apart, their pinkies stay looped together without force, without any pull at all, just comfortably slotted against the other. “I really like you,” she adds, and her voice sounds like smiles look. 

She blushes under her own words, over the entirety of their private moment, eyes darting from eyes to lips and back to eyes. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, like he’s scared asking might change her answer. She nods, biting down on the smile that paints her bottom lip, and it’s more than enough for him. She’s so good. She’s too good not to kiss. 

He moves a hand to her jaw, thumbs her cheek with fingers slotted behind her ear, dancing along her hairline like a whisper of what’s to come. Like a promise. In the absence of his hand, hers finds his chest, just his thin Ferrari shirt separating her palm from the butterflies stirring wildly in his chest. “Me, too,” he says softly. Softer than she did, more to her lips, soft a pretty and his favorite shade of pink, than to her eyes. And then, either so softly only the atoms hear it, or maybe in his head entirely, “very much.”

And then he kisses her. 

She tastes like mint chapstick and biscoff cookies and coffee. Her lips are soft, softer than they looked, softer than her voice. It’s like a boost of energy, kissing her. Like an immediate and complete charge. 

She tightens her grip on his other pinky. Tightens it, loosens it, re-intertwines the whole hand somewhere off in the distance, far, far away from where he wishes to stay forever. This alone is worth a flight anywhere. Altitude sickness and limbs falling asleep and jet lag and headaches from screaming babies are all poor inhabitants when this would be waiting for him on the other side. 

He pulls his hand from hers because it's just not close enough. Nothing is going to be close enough, but he’ll try his damndest to cup her jaw and pull her deeper into the kiss. Their noses bump awkwardly and they pull apart in a breathless laugh. Nothing more than a quick, shared smile and he’s kissing it off her face, hugging on her bottom lip with his teeth and letting her hum mumbles into his mouth. Teeth clacking and more laughing, so breathless it’s practically silent. 

“Chris Elliott,” he says all sing-songy, just because he knows it’ll make her laugh. A quick peck, because he can. “You are something.”

“Charles Leclerc,” she mimics, wide eyes and raised brows and a beaming smile. A quick peck, because he’s never going to stop her. “Something good?”

He hums. “Something great.”

“You’re silly,” she says, and he laughs. 

“Silly?” She nods. “You’re cute.” Chris rolls her eyes, but still has that child’s smile on her face and a pink flush to her cheeks. He kisses her again, quick, because he has a month to make up for. 

“I know,” she retorts, deadpan. He laughs louder than any sane man should. 

Joris, Arthur, and Andrea file into the room a few minutes later. Chris is leaning against the wall again, scrolling through her phone. She clicks it off when they walk in, shoves it deep into her purse pocket. 

Andrea’s eyes bounce from Chris to Charles, and then back to Chris, holding out a hand for her to shake. “Andrea,” he greets, formal and cool. 

“Chris,” she smiles, shakes the outstretched hand. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” she nods. “You too.”

First bad impression. She doesn’t know what it is she did, but with the simple half-minute observation of his interactions with her versus the rest of the people in the room, it’s obvious he’s already soured on her. 

Arthur, though, Arthur is almost off putting in his resemblance to Charles. Same voice, same face, certainly same bloodline. She thinks she could recognize him anywhere, probably. He, however, on his phone, doesn’t even notice Chris’ presence in the room until Joris elbows him on the sofa. 

“Quoi?!” He exclaims in a defensive tone that transcends language barriers. The kind that only brothers know how to use. 

“Hi,” Chris says, and Arthur’s head shoots from Joris to her in the doorway. He almost laughs, he’s so surprised by her presence. “I’m Chris,” she adds, holding out a hand only because he's sitting and she’s standing and a hug doesn’t feel logistically sound. 

“Ah, Chris,” Arthur nods, shakes her hand. “Charles does not answer my phone calls because of you.”

“Oh,” she offers a weak smile. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No, no. I do not want to hear from him.”

Chris laughs. From the other side of the room, Charles chimes in, “then why are you calling me?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Maman say, ‘do you call Charles’ and I say ‘yes he does not answer me.’”

- - -

They run into Carlos and co. on the way to the sponsorship event. Chris tries to hang back towards the end of the group, back with Joris and Arthur and away from Charles, purely out of self preservation. They’d agreed in passing that everything would be much easier, hundreds of times simpler, if nobody knew Chris was there this weekend, if everything was kept under the radar. Charles, however, seems to have forgotten that agreement because, no matter how engaged he gets into a conversation, he is constantly looking for her in the group, reaching his hand out to her if she’s within distance to do so, keeping her as close to him as he can. 

She keeps falling back though, falling into ranks. She doesn’t want to look like a girlfriend, because she isn’t. 

Chris has no idea how to be a public… girl? A fling or a girlfriend or anything in between. She’s at home at a race track, yes, and during Chase’s championship winning season, she got stopped three times to take pictures with fans, but, really. Nobody has ever cared about what she’s doing or who she’s doing it with. 

Walking in behind Carlos and Charles is like walking in behind celebrities. Everyone wants to shake their hands, to pat them on the shoulders and tell them this thing or another. There’s lots of languages being thrown around that she doesn’t recognize, accents she struggles to understand. 

“This is crazy,” she says quietly, just to herself. 

Arthur nudges her with his elbow to steal her attention, furrows his brows for a moment and holds up a quizzical thumbs up. Chris nods, smiles gratefully. 

Charles promised that it was going to be nothing more than a quick stop at the event, and he meant it. They aren’t even there long enough to sit down. Instead they hang out in the back of the tent near the bar, watching Charles and Carlos talk on stage with several different people about how important this brand is for us.  

They decide to go out to dinner after, despite Chris’ burning desire to go to sleep for a couple years. They get sat at a booth that’s probably made to hold no more than four people; Andrea and Joris on one side, Charles sandwiched between Chris and Arthur on either side. He finds her hand under the table, his thumb tracing along the lines of her fingers. Chris, against all urges to rest her head on his shoulder, rests it instead on the wooden divider between their booth and the neighboring one. 

Arthur is the only one who struggles to speak English rather than his mother tongue, and while Charles corrects him each time, Chris doesn’t dare. She’d rather die than imply someone speaking in a second language needs to improve the way they speak it. 

“Are you going to be with us all weekend?” Arthur asks around Charles’ frame. 

“I’m actually going to be in the grandstands,” she smiles. Charles rolls his eyes. 

“Oh?” Arthur asks, looks to his brother, but Joris beats him to the punch. 

“You couldn’t get her a pass for the whole weekend?” Joris chirps. Andrea laughs and Charles reaches for the pass hung around her neck. She didn’t even realize she was the only person still wearing it until now. Charles flips the pass over, points out the FULL WEEKEND on the back. 

“Her choice, not mine.”

She reaches to take the pass out of his hand, to pull it off over her head and put it into her purse. “I’m hoping for a drama-free weekend,” she says, and the boys laugh. Charles’ hand finds her thigh, gives it a little pat and a comfortable squeeze. 

Her hands are meant to be held, they really are. He could hold her hand until the moment she leaves, fingers locked together as they walk through the hotel corridor, empty and echoey with their voices and the sound of their feet on the carpet runner. 

Once in the room, face to face together with the single bed in the room, they both burst into laughter. He’s glad he cleaned things up before she got here, because the room was starting to look a little like his driver’s room–clothes strewn about messily, plastic water bottles on the end table, a television remote he lost the night he got here and hadn’t found until this morning. In the corner, Chris’ luggage sits beside the armchair, backpack neatly stacked with a single suitcase. 

“Did you bring your whole wardrobe?” He jokes, and maybe it’s because he’s never been great at conveying jokes in English, or maybe it’s that they’re both absolutely exhausted, but the joke doesn't land. She’s immediately apologizing, spewing out a jumbled apology about I didn’t know what I was supposed to wear, and then– “I’m messing with you,” he says, and hates that she thinks he’d be that worked up over a suitcase, especially when he’d brought at least double what she had. She could have shown up with twenty suitcases and he still wouldn’t have thought it was too much because, well, she’s here. Right in front of him. 

“Oh,” she pouts, and he kisses the look off her face. He’s wanted to do that since he saw it for the first time. “Oh. I like when you do that.” Good, he thinks. Get used to it. 

They both make plans to shower; her before him. He’s on the couch in the living area of the suite when she re-emerges from the bathroom, the TV rolling and absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. When the sliding door to the bathroom opens, he looks up to watch her. 

Her hair long down her back, carefully combed out so that the soaking ends turn the fabric of her sun-worn blue t-shirt a darker shade. It’s big on her–the shirt–hangs almost long enough that you wouldn’t be able to spot the flannel shorts underneath. He can still hear the sink running in the bathroom and she’s got a toothbrush in her mouth. 

He whistles when she walks back from the bedroom towards the bathroom again, and she stops in the doorway, laughs around the toothbrush and does a sweet spin. “Bellissimo,” he says, gestures a chef’s kiss and she bows dramatically. 

After his shower, he finds her in the bedroom, comfortably perched against the headboard, tucked under the crisp white duvet. The only light in the place is coming from her end table lamp, casting a soft shadow on her face, her knees pulled up close while she turns the pages of a book. He hovers around his suitcase watching her, completely in her own world, the only hint of her presence on this plane being the subtle lean into the light to better illuminate the pages she turns. 

It’s not the first time he’s found himself looking at her like this. She’s easy to get lost in and almost never notices him staring. She just gets so focused on the task at hand–grading papers, cooking a meal, painting her nails, watching a television show, or like tonight, reading her current library rental. 

“Do you want a water?” He asks. Her eyes don’t leave the page, a subtle shake of the head before she finally mumbles a no, thank you. He navigates the dark suite to the kitchenette, finds himself a plastic water bottle in the mini-fridge, and then he’s pulling back the comforter to climb into bed with her. “So, I was thinking tomorrow–” he starts, but she cuts him off with a singular finger held in the air. He can’t help but laugh, stupid smile on his face while he watches her eyes hurriedly finish the page, dog ear the tiniest fold onto the corner. 

“Sorry,” she unapologetically offers, setting the book down on the end table. “What were you saying?”

“Uh, I don’t remember,” he says, because he lost it while he tried to guess what she was reading based on the little microexpressions that crossed her face. His eyes fall to the gold chain around her neck, to the small cross that lays over the blue fabric of her shirt. He’s noticed it dozens of times, it’s constant presence in every picture, every video, every call and outfit and event. He doesn’t even think when he reaches for it, examines it with gentle fingers. “Is this a, uh…” he struggles to find the word, “how do you say, family tradition?”

“Heirloom?”

He nods, drops the piece of jewelry back to its rightful spot. “Heirloom.”

“No, it was a birthday gift,” she explains, fingers the chain of it, “from my brother when I turned eighteen.”

He nods, points out the other necklace she’s wearing, a flower with a pearl in the center center. “And this?”

She laughs, “it’s silly,” she says. “It goes with these earrings I have, they’re from my parents when I graduated college.” He learns the flower is a chrysanthemum, that her dad has always called her Mum, that her mom has a particular affinity for pearls that she’s passed onto Chris, that all of these things have combined into this piece of jewelry hanging around her neck and that she cried and cried when they gifted it to her. 

Because the sun is still burning, he doesn’t stop asking about the different pieces she wears until he’s run out of ones to point to. He learns the story of a ruby ring–her birthstone–that she found in a thrift store for seventy-five cents when she was fifteen, how it used to fit on her pointer finger but now it fits her ring finger, how sometimes she makes up elaborate stories of how it ended up in the bargain bin of a Goodwill in North Georgia. 

She tells him about three friendship bracelets. The first and second are made by students, her favorite gifts. The third, blue and yellow–NAPA colors, her brother’s racing colors–made by her nephew. “He’s four, and he is everything annoying about my brother and everything good about my best friend, and I think I would kill someone for him.” Charles is sure that tomorrow he’ll be telling someone they wouldn’t believe the way she lights up when she talks about this kid. 

When he’s run out of things to question, she’s examining the red string tied around his wrist. “What about you?” She asks, “what’s up with this guy?”

“My mate, Pierre. He learns about it from our other friend Yuki,” He explains. “They always know the strangest things, Pierre and Yuki,” he chuckles, continues to explain the traditional symbol of good luck. “I don’t know how well it works, though,” he laughs, and she kisses him. It surprises him, but he’s in no place to complain. Perhaps the bracelet works quite well, he thinks when she moves closer, snuggles under his arm while he continues. 

Three metal bracelets. One red, one silver, one stainless steel. Morse code: Amour, Bonheur, Smile. A ring that matches the bracelet. Two hex rings that track his heart rate and his sleep and a million other things.

He spins the rings while he talks, pulls them off and hands one to her without missing a beat in his sentence. She toys with it while she listens, hands it back to him with a quiet yawn. When he kisses her hair, it’s still damp and smells like the shampoo she used, something he can’t place, something he hopes eventually to memorize. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You told me that last week.”

“I know,” another kiss against the unfamiliar scent. “I meant it.”

Charles wants to order room service for breakfast. Chris shuts that idea down the minute it comes out of his mouth, furrowing her brows and making him attempt to rationalize waiting half an hour for food that’s five minutes away. He can’t, so they head to the lobby. 

Chris is wearing the same shirt, pulls a pair of sweatpants over her flannel shorts and ties her hair into a messy, tangled ponytail. She’d keep it down, but her hair dried while she slept and it’s pointing in directions that defy gravity. A ponytail was the only option. Charles doesn’t change, keeps the t-shirt and shorts he slept in on. 

They find Andrea in the lobby, eating at a table for two by himself. Charles pulls a chair over from a nearby table and they sit down with him. By the time Joris appears, the table is officially too full of food to comfortably function. 

She hears his phone vibrate against the hard plastic of his chair, and he casually mentions that the rest of his family is on their way down. 

Chris doesn’t react, not externally, anyways. She finishes what’s left in her mug, bee-lines it over to the coffee bar to make another. Absent-mindedly, she tears the foil from the creamer cups, rips open the sugar packets and stirs it all together. His mom. His mom. His mom. It’s all she can think about. His mother. The woman who gave him life. Chris knew she’d be meeting his mom this weekend, but she figured she’d have more preparation than a couple minutes warning, assumed she’d be dressed, hair styled, makeup done. That she’d be presenting herself as someone you’d be happy to have your son spend time with, not like a  7/11 customer in Dahlonega at one in the morning. Maybe Charles was right and room service was a good idea. 

Even once she’s back at the table, every elevator ding makes her jump, shoots her head in the direction of the opening doors just terrified the people walking out are going to be his family. 

“Are you good?” Charles asks after she flinches at the third elevator bell. 

“Yup,” she lies, slaps a big, phony smile on her face and takes a sip of her coffee. His hand finds her leg, gives it a little you’ll be fine squeeze. 

The next elevator is carrying his family. She instinctively straightens in her seat, moves things around the crowded table so her food looks neat and managed. Joris looks at her with concern, Charles laughs when she refolds a napkin. “Don’t laugh at me,” she whispers. 

Out of earshot, Arthur says something through a stretch and a yawn. His mom rolls her eyes, pushes him in the direction of the coffee bar, mutters something to his other brother that makes him chuckle. When his mom spots Chris, she makes a bee-line for her with open arms. Chris practically trips over the leg of her chair trying to stand up before the hug reaches her. 

“Come here, chérie,” she smiles. It’s warm, just like her boy’s. “I have heard so much about you.” Oh? Chris smiles, suddenly aware that she’s apparently horribly unprepared for this entire introduction. He’s telling his mother about her? 

She hugs Pascale back and looks over her shoulder to Charles with wide eyes. She’s met with a matching expression, Charles shrugging and shaking his head as if to adamantly tell her he has no idea what his mom is talking about. “And what have you heard, Maman?” He asks with a laugh. 

“Don’t start with me,” she says, wagging a finger at her boy, and then to Chris, “Ignore him.” She holds her at arm's length, hands on either shoulder and looks her up and down. Chris laughs, nervous but still noticeably genuine. “You are just beautiful, aren’t you?”

Well. Beautiful isn’t a word Chris would use to describe herself at this moment. Ratty, perhaps. Disheveled. Off-putting. But sure, beautiful is a word she might sometimes describe herself as. “Me?” She shakes her head, “ma’am, look at yourself.”

“Oh, please,” his mom scoffs. “Pascale.”

“Pascale.” Chris smiles, goes in for another hug.

Whether it’s because he’s a brother and not a mother, or because meeting said mother is done and over with, Chris is significantly less anxious when it comes to her introduction with Lorenzo. 

Chris attempts to insist Pascale take her seat, but is out-insisted to finish her breakfast. Charles finds her hand under the table, winks at her when she interlocks her fingers with his. 

– – – 

Outside of their shared breakfast, Saturday is a long day apart for Chris and Charles. A quick kiss goodbye in their hotel room when Charles finishes getting ready, a quicker “good luck,” from Chris called after him on his way out the door, and a thumbs up over his head as a response summarizes their interactions for the rest of the day. 

Chris works on next week’s lesson plans for a few hours, nothing better to do while she waits to leave for the track. 

She watches the third practice session and quali from the grandstand across from the pitlane, and while neither are his greatest showing, Chris can feel it in her bones that everything is going to fall into place for him tomorrow. A third place start is more than good enough to beat out Perez at Red Bull. She knows it like she knows her own name, and nobody is going to tell her otherwise. 

She goes back to the hotel after quali, doesn’t bother to attempt sneaking into the paddock to try and find him. It just doesn’t feel worth it–navigating a place she doesn’t know, avoiding the cameras and the reporters and the chaos–not when he’ll be coming back to the hotel, back to her. 

She falls asleep moments after sitting down on the couch, and isn’t woken up until she doesn’t even know when. It’s the middle of the night, Charles tells her, guides her to bed and tucks her in like a child, complete with a kiss on the forehead. 

- - -

The first words out of her mouth on Sunday morning are an apology. 

When Charles tries to cut her off with a laugh and a kiss, she stops him just short of her lips, claiming morning breath. “Wow,” he feigns shock. “First you fall asleep on me, now you will not kiss me?”

She rolls her eyes, grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down to kiss her. “Happy?”

He nods and kisses her again. He keeps waiting for it to not feel so exciting, so much like a stupid movie, so young, and it’s yet to reach that point. It’s not even coming close. “Yes, thank you.”

From the other side of the bathroom wall she dares to ask him if he’s nervous, if the pressure is finally manifesting itself into stress. He’s quiet for a while. 

“No,” he eventually calls back.

“No?”

He peels around the doorway, messing with the collar on his team shirt. “Yes,” he admits with a scale-breaking sigh. She wishes he was as sure as himself as she is, that he could feel in his bones it is all going to work out perfectly. 

“Well, I’ll be here when you’re done, and we can either celebrate Charles Leclerc, Vice World Champion,” he turns away at the title, the side profile of a smile turning the corner back into the bathroom. “Or, we can celebrate the end of an exhausting season. Either way, we’re celebrating.” He stays quiet. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he finally speaks, tone lackluster, unconfident. It’s hard to hear him like this, to hear the distinct shards of doubt that rattle in his chest. “We’re celebrating.”

We’re celebrating. Tonight is a celebration. The positives with the negatives, the good always outweighs the bad. She reminds herself like it’s a mantra. Tonight is a celebration. 

- - -

Alone in the grandstands with an air of certainty about her, Chris’ bar for friendship has never been lower. She finds a group of girlfriends who appear to be sort-of, almost, kind-of, maybe in the same age demographic as she is. They speak English and don’t ignore her when she talks, and that’s enough for her to latch onto for the evening. 

We like McLaren, they tell her, But those Ferrari boys–they’re cute. You can’t help but feel for them. Chris just smiles and nods, offers up a laugh and pretends she won’t be falling asleep next to one of those cute boys later tonight. 

The girls–flew in from London on Friday just for this-fill her in on everything she already knows. They tell her about Charles and his fight for P2, about the strategic pitfalls of Ferrari and the fact that on paper, it was Charles’ year to win it all. 

They’re more nervous during the race than Chris is, not to say that her leg isn’t bouncing watching the times constantly changing, that she isn’t whispering mumbles prayers into the air between here and there, just that she knows. She knows. 

If it was possible to stare through a helmet, Chris would’ve done it during his pitstop, burning the confidence right into his frontal lobe. Her eyes are glued to his car, his helmet, distant and small and buzzing with energy. He’s got it under control, like a perfectly wrapped gift sat in his lap, like a row of monkey bars and hands hardened by months of blisters, like a first kiss and a second kiss and a third kiss. He’s got it under control.

He does, because after what feels simultaneously like the longest and shortest fifty-eight laps of her life, Chris practically has a front row seat to Charles doing donuts. She’s so happy that she thinks she might cry, not that it takes much of anything to pull a tear from her when she’s this exhausted. The girls she’d befriended jump and celebrate and cheer louder than the fireworks. 

Chris tries to live the moment. To feel it all, the energy and the roar and the joy, which only makes it that much harder not to cry. 

Suddenly, momentarily, irrationally emotionally, while she watches him celebrate with his family and his team in front of the whole world she wishes she was down there with him. Screw the world watching, she wants to hug him until her arms are numb and kiss him until she passes out.

There’s no telling when–or even if–she’s going to ever live through a moment like this again. It’s not one she wants to forget. In the chaos of it all, her hand finds her chest, the hard metal of her cross necklace through the fabric of her top, the pulsing of her heartbeat, loud and racing. 

It’s hours before he’s back to the hotel, but it doesn’t feel late at all. He’s still running on adrenaline, just as ready to celebrate as he was when he jumped into his team’s arms. Over the mechanical shifting of the door lock, he can hear Chris’ feet echoing on the floor just on the other side and before he can even make it through the doorway she’s crashing into him. The pure energy that she is knocks him back a few steps, but then he’s hugging her back just as hard, maybe harder. 

He can feel her tears soak through his shirt, and with a laugh asks if she’s crying. 

“Shut up,” she says, and it only makes him laugh harder, hug tighter. God, the show he would have put on if he could’ve found her right after the race. The trouble he would make. “Oh, my god!” She sniffles, pulls her head off his chest and wipes away her tears. “Kiss me, already!”

And so he does. He kisses the shit out of her. 

She pulls away with a smile, arms slinked around his neck like it belongs to her. “So, how does it feel?” She asks, “Vice World Champion, Charles Leclerc.”

He gives her a quick kiss, nothing more than a peck, shrugs, and repeats the action. “Too busy kissing the girl.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she laughs, drops her head so it’s against his chest and vibrates his entire being. It’s a laugh that lights stars, dances around the room like a windchime in the warm August air. The kind so distinct you could hear it across a room ten years later and still know it was her. “A walking cheeseball.”

“A cheeseball?” He humors. 

“I said what I said.”

His satisfied hum says more than words ever could, fingers comfortable dancing along the bone of her hip. “We gotta get ready,” he says. 

“For what?”

“The celebration.”

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[lenteur]

i missed you moooooooooost <33 thank u my darling 💗 i'm feeling good this week, hoping that feeling lasts :)) you're the sweetest :))

*squishes u* <33

i appreciate your puns always ;) they will always be met with me smiling <33 even if they're bad, i still love them 🌸 i am smh at ur pun but i will look past it bc ily 👀

i love my boo seungkwan 🌱🧡 i love that man a whole looooooot 🥰 nah i can't deal with scoups, he is ADORABLE </3 must......resist......and....not....squish.....his......cheeks..... aaaaaaaa 👀 OH MY GOD I LOVED THAT ONE <33

yes! it's about superman. i can't remember much of smallville but i used to love it :( the first four seasons are great but season five and season six, you're just like wtaf is happening (i still love it tho. it's chaotic) 🌸

yes! i'm halfway through now <33 OKAY SO the murderer is NOT who i think it is!! he is actually super innocent and sweet and i wanna protect him forever <33

my cats were on catnip this evening which was very, very funny <33 toffee was moody and was like um gimmie catnip, mother >.< and luna was practically throwing herself about 😭 we put the catnip inside an old sock and they both were crazy 🤪

lemme just love u forever <33 actually nvm, gonna love u anyway okay? 🥰🥰🥰 i'm so happy their faces make you smile <333 you deserve to be happy 💙🧡💖

hello my love 💖 i've missed you sososososososososo much you have no idea 😭 you're truly the highlight of my days whenever I see you interact with me 💗

you always say i'm the sweetest when i think you're a great competitor 💕 if there ever was a world's kindest sweetest person championship, you'd rank super high 🏆

see when i said you're the sweetest? you're even willing to smile at my worst puns 💞 if that is not a sign of love & friendship, i don't know what is 💓

the bias wreckage is very present in you 💔 i mean same :( scoups was the first svt member to catch my attention back when they debuted. he kind of holds a special place in my heart 💕 and, to be clear, I AM NOT SIMPING FOR THIS DUDE OK?! (why the sudden aggression? i have no idea. maybe i am a bit in denial... who knows?)

now that you said this, that's why i ended up not liking the show :/ the last seasons were too chaotic and nonsense for me lol

wait what?! first of all, i'm glad the m*rd*rer (keeping it pg just in case hehe) was not who you thought. but? super sweet and innocent? wanna protect him forever? i must be honest that shocked me a little when i read that. but then, i went back to our previous message and it helped me understand your feelings a little better.

ah yes catnip and cats are a match made in heather 🤪 (see what i did there? hehe) honestly i miss when i used to have a cat at home :( a lot of craziness but a lot of fun too 💖 so please let me know about your cats' lives 💘

awww :((( you're too sweet :((( you too deserve to be happy ok? you have no idea how bright you shine (like a diamond) (yes my music knowledge is so eclectic and i only listen to underrated artists 🙄)

anyway, as usual, i hope you're having the best day you can have and that you're taking care of both yourself and your cats 🐱🐱 (so sad there aren't customisable cat emojis because i would've created the most realistic toffee & luna emojis jsyk)

[teddybeartoji]

MICKEYYYY UR PICREW IS SOOO CUTW I CRIED T—T mickeytoru in the snow …. what will they do……. u look like lil kittens w the bright blue eyes i’m obsessed . kissing u both silly

……. also made me remember how angelic toru looks in the snow :(((( w his red cheeks n bright blue eyes….. getting pelted by snowballs n pushed into the snow as god intended ….. i miss him sb 💔

anyway i just wanted to drop in bc i was overcome by cuteness but ure so right WE SHOULD MAKE MORE PICREWS they’re so fun … ily mickey i hope ur day goes lovely :33 hope satoru shows up at ur doorstep covered in snowflakes <333

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THANK YOUU MY LITTLE IRIS<3333333 I LOVED THE ARISUGU DUO SM!!!! THE CUTEST LITTLE KITTIES STARGAZING IN THE SNOW<3333333333 you two are so adorable together i'm kind of obsessed. immediately just thought of the two of u having like a book date in a cute cafe and then ending up in the snow after that<33333 so cute

mickeytoru had a snowball fight after taking the pic 1000% there were no winners only two losers with red cheeks n red noses and cold hands and big smiles....

SATORU LOOKS SOOOO BEAUTIFUL IN THE SNOW AAA I WANNA CRYYY he should be making snow angels and catching snowflakes (and showing them to me) he's just the sweetest boy ever:(((((((( the way he'd laugh soooo loudlyy:((((( HE'S TRULY MY ANGEL I LOVE HIM SOOO MUCH<33

I LOVE YOU ARIIII<3333333 i think we both deserve a snowy little satoru considering it did Snow you know.. like this whole picrew thing was meant to be anyway it's fate it's love it's everything!!!!!! I HOPE YOUR DAY GOES LOVELY TOO!!! DRINK SOME TEA AND STAY WARM MY LOVE<333333