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c0eu4 · 1 year ago

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CL16 | Depress girlfriend ☁︎

Summary: Charles comes back to his shared house after three weeks of intense race. But the thing he didn't expect is to find her girlfriend having a relapse.

Warning: Fluff, depression, hurt/comfort

A/N: Here, we talk about depression and some things that it creates : lack of hygiene, not taking care of yourself..

MASTERLIST requests are open

Depression, that thing that destroys life.

She's under the covers, the rain is hitting the living room windows and her eyes are heavy. Her legs hurt and her stomach growls.

She would scare anyone. Her eyes are red from tears, her lips irritated, her hair messy and dirty. Anyway. She's depressed.

The door of her apartment opens, and she knows it's her favorite Monegasque.

He opens the shutters and sits next to her, giving her a big hug.

''Have you relapsed?'' He asked, softly to not fear her. His hands moving up and down in her back and hair.

She doesn't answer and puts her forehead against his shoulder. She feels tears coming back in her eyes and cry, again. She sob uncontrollably, her body shaking and releasing all the stress she accumulated during the few weeks ago.

His grip around her gets tighter and he puts his cheeks against her hair, knowing that he just has to wait to let her calm down. He keeps rubbing her back until she finally manages to cry less. She separates from him, keeping her head down and can't even look at him in the eyes.

''I-I'm- sorry..'' She said with a weak and shaky voice. Charles put his hand on her cheek, lifting her head up.

''Mon amour.. There is nothing to be sorry about..'' She restarted to cry like a little baby. Charles kissed her tears until they finally stop.

''Have you taken your medicines princess?'' He asked her, trying to not put pressure on her.

She shakes her head as a no. His eyebrow frowned.

''Why bébé ? Talk to me please..'' He stoked her hair with his right hand, keeping his left hand on her cheek.

''I-I..'' She gibberish, tears coming back in her eyes.

''It's ok.. take your time..'' He tries to reassure her and make her talk to him. He hates to see her like that. Since she no longer takes her anti-depressants, she sometimes has days when she feels low. But this time, it's a big relapse. Especially since Charles wasn't there for her because of his three intensive weeks of racing.

She takes her time like he said, taking deeps breaths to calm herself down.

''The reason is stupid..'' She finally managed to say.

''Nothing is stupid when we talk about your mental health chérie.'' He stokes her cheek with his thumb.

''I.. uhm.. It's just that... I had a lot of homework to do and I was lost.. you weren't there to help me and it was like.. I was just incapable of doing my homework.. And I got a very bad grade... then another one... And here I am now..'' She said, trying to not sob again.

He kissed her forehead.

''It's ok chérie. It happens to have some bad grades.''

He retakes her in a comfortable hug and strokes her hair.

''When was the last time you ate ?''

She takes a little time to answer him.

''Maybe two or three days.''

His eyes widened and he put his hands on her shoulders, pulling him back from the hug.

''This is really bad y/n.'' His voice was more firm than he expected. She immediately cried again, looking at the ground, ashamed.

''I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...''

He takes her again in his warm arms, whispering sweet words to her ear.

''No no no no, don't cry chaton.. It's ok.. You know what ? I'm going to carry you to the kitchen and make you a delicious dinner, ok ?''

She nodded against his shoulder, feeling one of his arms going under her knees to lift her up from the couch. She moaned slightly in pain because of her weakness, her whole body hurting.

He walked her to the kitchen, making her sit on a chair, in front of the wooden table. She looks at him making some pasta, her eyes heavy and half closed.

''Mon amour, don't sleep, you need to eat.''

She keeps her eyes open. Charles talked to her the whole time he was doing the pasta, to keep her awake. He knows how much she usually likes his voice and his french accent. Especially when he was talking directly to her. He talked to her about his weeks. When him and Carlos went to paddle, when he was doing his track walk, all the fans he met...

After about twenty minutes, he placed a plate in front of you, full of pasta with tomato sauce. He gives you a fork and a spoon. He put a glass full of water up to your plate.

''Try to drink a bit before eating.'' He sits in front of you with his own plate full of pasta.

She took the glass and slowly drank the water, her throat hurting her.

She caught and started to eat her pasta, Charles looking at her with love in his eyes. Even when she was at her lower, when she was looking like a zombie, when her hair was dirty and messy, when her lips weren't healthy, he was still loving her.

They eat together, slowly. She feels her empty stomach full of food and it makes her feel better.

After their little dinner, he takes her to the bathroom. He undresses her, with her consent, like if she was a little child. He undresses himself and makes her sit in the bathtub filled with warm water. He sits behind her, her back against his chest. He keeps her close to him, stroking her waist and thighs. He helped her to wash her body and her hair.

When they were done with the shower, he dried her hair with a dryer and braid it. He brings her underwear, a short and one of his hoodies, her favorite one. She put everything on, without help this time, feeling already a bit stronger than this morning.

He carried her with his big arms on his shoulder, making her giggle and chuckle. He was so happy to hear her little laugh after so much time away from her. He put her down in their bed, laying next to her. She quickly hugged him and he hugged her back, his hands stoking her back. She bury her nose in his neck, smelling his scent.

''Good night mon chat.'' He kissed the top of her head, nuzzled his nose in her hair.

''Good night Charlie.'' She kissed his neck with a warm and wet kiss and quickly fell asleep in the arms of her lover.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 drivers #charles leclerc f1 #formula one #help he's so cute #Charles Leclerc fluff #fluff #fluff fanfiction

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5ugarand5pice · 2 years ago

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Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

(can we pretend it says silverstone instead of melbourne thank you)

Part 1: Dear Reader | Part 2: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve | Part 3: coming soon

pairing: driver! reader x f1 grid

inspired by: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve by Taylor Swift (ik the song is unrelated but if anyone wants to cry over the possible Taylor and Joe split, my dms are open)

a/n: a couple months late but you asked and now you shall receive! thank you so much for all the love for Dear Reader, it means the world to me 🥹🤍 super sorry for going ghost (went thru a breakup, cried over a 🤢boy🤢 and tried to get my shit together) but i’m all good now and better than ever! definitely in my reputation era which means y/n will be too... soon. anyways, hope you like this and sending everyone hugs esp after the shitshow that was the aus gp (justice for carlos!!)

warning/s: a bit sad??? longer than i expected it would be but yes

If you would've blinked then I would've Looked away at the first glance If you tasted poison, you could've Spit me out at the first chance And if I was some paint, did it splatter On a promising grown man? And if I was a child, did it matter If you got to wash your hands?

The rest of your time in Monaco was spent coordinating with your team on possible moves forward in F1. Come Tuesday morning, you and Abi were on the way to your home country, a half-assed plan and bundle of nerves in your hands.

“It’ll be alright. You’ve got a kickass mom who’ll drag Christian’s ass to court and back if she has to and you also have me. You know I got your back— even if it means breaking a law or two.” Abi says, squeezing your hand twice as you make your way to your family home.

“For legal reasons, that was a joke.” you chuckle.

“Please, I’ll even help you bury the body.” your mom replies, giving you a small wink from the driver's seat.

You shake your head as you smile, the familiarity of the scenery as well as the playful conversations with your mom and Abi bring you a sense of comfort you had missed. It’s good to be home.

When your mom had pulled up to the driveway, your grandparents were already waiting by the door, a small banner written “welcome back home girls!” in your Nana’s penmanship.

“I missed you guys so much.” you almost cry out as you reach in for a hug.

“Our little racer isn’t so little anymore.” Nana coos.

“We watched your race in Austria, sweetheart. Almost forgot how much of a softie you actually are when I saw you drive.” Papa teases.

“Don’t tell outsiders that she’s a softie, we have a reputation to uphold over here.” Abi pipes, tone going high as she struggles with her bag.

“As if everyone doesn’t know that she’s a softie.” Nana says as she rolls her eyes affectionately.

You all chuckle as you finally make your way inside, Nana noting that she would have supper set up at 6pm.

The rest of the afternoon was spent settling in your respective rooms. Wandering around as you take in your surroundings, a picture frame on your dresser catches your attention.

The 2017 British Grand Prix.

Oh, God. If only you knew.

Oh, oh All I used to do was pray Would've, could've, should've If you'd never looked my way

You placed third at the Formula 2 British Grand Prix. Ahead of you was Charles Leclerc and your teammate, Norman Nato, respectively.

“You know, if he weren’t so cute, I would definitely be screaming at him for overtaking you like that.” Abi mutters as she hands you a towel.

“Please, we both know you’d probably use that as an excuse to make a move.” you playfully scoff as you wipe your face.

“I would,” she shrugs, “but I’m rooting for your enemies to lovers love story”.

“Oh, Abi.” you sigh, “Where did you get that idea?”

“Please, you’ve seen the way he looks when you pass by.” she giggles as she mocks what you assume were lovestruck eyes.

“Quit it. He doesn’t like me like that. He just” you pause, “has that charm.”

“Sure,” she grins, “but when you guys end up together, I’ll be mentioning this moment in my Maid of Honor speech.”

Before you can protest, Kenny Kirwan, your team manager, clears his throat behind you.

“Y/n, Abi, I’d like to introduce you to Christian Horner, the team principal of Red Bull Racing.” he tilts his head to his right.

“Christian, This is Y/n, this is our driver I’ve been telling you about. We’re lucky to have her in our team.” he continues, his smile faltering as you remain stoic.

“Hi. I’m Abi. Her social media manager and best friend.” Abi speaks up, breaking the awkward silence. She extends her hand, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Nice to meet you.” he grins, shaking her hand. “Congrats on second, by the way. I’m so proud of you.” he looks at you, engulfing you in what you suspect was one of those weird man clap hugs.

“Oh! Uh, thank you.” you smile, immediately pulling away. “I didn’t think you would watch my races.”

“I try to. You’ve been progressing well.” he comments.

“Planning to win the championship, so, you know, gotta get those points.” you reply, shifting your weight between your legs.

“You can do it. You are your father’s daughter after all.” he smirks.

“Uhuh.” you wince.

Kenny does his best to ease the tension, raving about how he discovered your talent and how much potential you have to further in Formula 1.

“Well, it’s been lovely catching up with you but we really have to go. We promised Lorelei we’d be home before late to celebrate.” Abi interrupts.

“Oh! Of course.” he smiles awkwardly. “Um, before you go, maybe you’d want to go to the race tomorrow? I’d love to have you as my guest.”

“Sure. I’d like that. Abi’s my plus one.” you reply. “If that’s okay.” you quickly add, to which he smiles.

“Of course. Well, I’ll go ahead. Gotta get ready for FP3 and quali. You still have the same number?” Christian asks.

All you do is nod as he walks away, a dumbfounded Kenny following suit.

“Wait ‘til your mom hears about this.” Abi breaks you out of your trance, yanking your arm to lead you to your room.

I would've stayed on my knees And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil At nineteen And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts Memories feel like weapons And now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering

As it turns out, Formula 1 had a completely different vibe from Formula 2; the screams were louder, the air was hotter and everyone seemed more tense. However, no one was as tense as you.

“I don’t know Abi.” you sigh, your hands gripping the wheel. “What if it’s worse than yesterday?” you turn to look at her.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” she asks, eyes trained on the mirror as she applies yet another layer of lip gloss.

“His wife can hate me. I get run over. I run over someone. I make a fool out of myself in the paddock. I unintentionally ruin my chances of ever becoming a Formula 1 driver which will then stop me from achieving my dream of becoming a Formula 1 World Champion.” your grip tightening as you ramble on.

Abi glances at your hands, sensing that you were about to slip into one of your spirals. She immediately grabs a hold of those and squeezes twice. Breathe In.

“She’ll love you. You won’t be on the track. You won’t be driving. You can always apologize and flash your adorable smile. I won’t let you ruin your chances. You will become a formula 1 driver. You will become world champion. It’s going to be fun, trust me” her hands squeezing yours twice again. Breathe Out.

“Fuck it. Okay. Let’s do this.” you mutter, quickly closing your windows and stepping out of your car.

The two of you pass through the gates, feeling a bit out of place and out of your element as a guest. Christian gave the two of you a tour of the Red Bull hospitality, introducing you to the crew while at it. Although they all seemed nice, your stomach churned every time surprise would flash their face when Christian introduced you as his daughter.

When time was nearing the race, he excused himself to look for his drivers. Abi left as well, muttering something about finding the ladies’ room. That left you standing alone in a corner of the garage, too shy to add on to the hustle and bustle of the race day.

“You look lonely, want some company?” you hear a voice to your right.

“Oh! Um, sure. If you want.” you reply, flustered.

“Okay.” he heartily laughs, “So, are you here for a sponsor or something?” he asks.

“A personal guest? I think.” you chuckle, “It’s complicated.”

“Well, complicated, nice to meet you. I’m Daniel.” he grins, offering you his hand to shake.

“I actually know who you are.” you smile back as you shake his hand, “Not that I stalk you or anything! I’ve watched a few of your races.”

“I’m a driver too. Well, currently in Formula 2.” you continue, embarrassment tinging your cheeks, “Y/n y/l/n”.

“Oh no, more young drivers!” he dramatically gasps, “Another reminder that I’m aging.”

“You don’t look a day over 70!” you joke, face immediately paling when you realize what you just said. “Oh God! I’m so-”, your apology cut off by Daniel's laughter.

“Oh, I like you. You’re funny.” he breathily sighs. “We can be friends now.”

“So sense of humor is part of your friendship checklist?” you tease, mentally thanking whichever angel God sent you. “Sadly you didn’t tick that box on mine.”

“Okay,” he pouts his lips. “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” you roll your eyes.

“Chickens.”

“Chickens who?”

“Enkkk.” he voices out, mimicking a buzzer. “Owls hoot, chickens cluck.”

You purse your lips. “A for effort. We should be friends so we can work on your sense of humor, grandpa.”

Daniel scoffs and places his hands on his chest, feigning hurt.

“Daniel!” someone hollers. “Mate, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Damn it.” Daniel chuckles. “I really thought I was gonna win at hide and seek this week.”

“Christian says we have to go over some notes before the race” he goes on, clueless to your presence.

“Well, it seems I have to bid you adieu.” Daniel turns to you, bowing to add to your amusement. “Till next time, mademoiselle.”

Daniel leaves, heading to what you guess is their meeting room. The stranger follows him, sending you a sheepish smile, presumably his form of apology for interrupting your conversation. You wave him off with a smile, shouting a quick “Good luck!” as they pass.

If you never touched me, I would've Gone along with the righteous If I never blushed, then they could've Never whispered about this And if you never saved me from boredom I could've gone on as I was But, Lord, you made me feel important And then you tried to erase us

Despite both of the Red Bulls not being able to set foot on the podium, the garage still celebrated points; P4 for Daniel and P5 for his teammate, Max. Daniel, being Mister Congeniality, insisted (quite ruthlessly) that you come to the afterparty. This is how you and Abi ended up back in your room, flipping out over outfit options.

“I think we need to find you the perfect ensemble that screams I’m classy but I can be a slut if I want to.” Abi shouts from inside your closet, another batch of dresses being thrown towards the growing pile on the floor.

“I can’t look like a slut, Abi. My father might be there.” You mutter, setting up your makeup at the vanity.

As much as it bothered you, you knew better than to try to clean while Abi rummaged through your clothes. She once gave you an earful, going on about how messy people are creative geniuses. Thus, the artist shall not be disturbed.

“We’re trying to attract a driver and a driver’s seat, not your father. ” she gags, head peeking out of the closet. “Have you seen the way that Max guy looked at you?”.

“No, because I’m not looking at him.” you turn away. “Besides, I thought you were rooting for a certain Monegasque.”

“I am, but it's rude to disregard other contenders.” she shrugs, passing you a little black dress. “I think this is it. Max will definitely keep his eyes on you tonight.”

Just as always, Abi was right. When you had finally arrived at the pub, Max immediately spotted you, nudging Daniel towards your direction.

“Glad you can make it, mademoiselle.” Daniel greets you, reenacting his bow from earlier that day.

“Good evening, Sire.” you curtsy in response.

“May I escort thee to thy party chambers?” he continues his act, mimicking a posh accent you’ve mostly heard in period dramas.

“I’d be most delighted, o good Sir.” you nod, locking arms with him and Abi with the other. “I’d like to introduce my companion. Sir Daniel, meet Lady Abigail.”

“Delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Abigail.” he waves with his free hand.

“You guys are crazy.” Abi snorts. “But likewise, Sir Daniel.”

He leads the two of you to a booth, excusing himself to get the two of you a drink. Max was still seated at the same spot, nursing a half empty bottle of beer.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation with Daniel before the race and for not introducing myself then.” he sheepishly smiles at you. “I’m Max.”

“Y/n, and no worries about that. It was a busy time.” you smile back. “This is my friend by the way, Abi.”

“Congrats on P5.” she nods at him, eyes immediately darting back to the crowd.

Before Max could get another word in, Daniel returns with drinks in his hands.

“Three margaritas for the lovely ladies and myself.” he gives a cheeky smile while passing out the drinks. “Another beer for Max.”

The four of you spent the night getting to know each other better. Halfway through your drinks, Daniel excuses himself to mingle with other guests. Abi excuses herself as well, saying she needs to get water but you later catch her wink at you while a guy talks her up at the bar. That bitch (affectionately).

“So, you come to races often?” Max asks, shifting your attention back to him.

“Mostly busy with my own but I watch you guys from time to time.” you smile.

“You race too?” he chokes on his drink.

“Currently in Formula 2, yes.” Handing him a tissue, you chuckle. “I kinda take offense at your shock.”

“Sorry, it’s just that-” he starts off, wiping off his lips. “I think it’s best if you don’t finish that sentence.” you giggle. “So, Max, how long have you been racing?”

“Well, pretty much ever since my dad thought I was old enough to start.” he mutters.

“So, since you were in the womb?” you joke.

“Pretty much.” he laughs. “You?”

“Similar. Got into it because of my dad as well but continued for myself.” you look down and fidget with your rings.

“Anyways,” he clears his throat. “What’s your favorite team?”

“Ferrari.” you grin. “Big Vettel fan here.”

“You were hanging out in the wrong garage then.” he muses. “Any way I can switch you over to my side?”

“I can be convinced,” you tease. “if given enough incentive.”

“How about I convince you over dinner?” he asks.

“Bold ask.” you giggle. “I’d have to think about that.”

Oh, oh You're a crisis of my faith Would've, could've, should've If I'd only played it safe

At that time, it seemed like the world was working in your favor. You had three consecutive podiums in Hungaroring, Spa and Monza. To add to the excitement, all of those races coincided with that of the F1 calendar, giving you more chances to hang out in the Red Bull garages.

The highlight, though, would be Monza. After winning first place, Christian invited you to breakfast to celebrate and “make up for lost time”. Abi, being the perfect balance of tough love and unending support, decided it’d be best for you to go alone, much to your dismay. You paced back and forth in the hallway, making a mental list of things to not bring up. Your thoughts come to a halt when you hear the click of the door, revealing Geri on her way out.

“Y/n! Christian’s inside. You can just head in.” she smiles, hand holding the doorknob.

“Oh, okay.” you breathe out. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“It’s alright.” she chuckles. “He’s nervous too if that’s any consolation.”

“A little.” you giggle. “Um, I hope it’s not an intrusion. Me being here, I mean.”

“That’s nonsense!” she exclaims. “I just thought it’d be better for the two of you to talk things out alone. But, if you’re open to it, I’d love to get to know you better as well.”

“I’d like that.” you exhale. “Well, I think I should head in.”

“Of course.” she laughs, moving towards the lift. Turning around she says, “He’s trying, you know.”

Not knowing what to say, you offer a smile and head inside their room.

“Honey, do you think she’d want more food? Or is this enough?” you hear him shout.

Heading towards the dining area, you chuckle. “She left already. But, if you’re planning to feed the entire grid, maybe we can order more food.”

“Y/n.” he grins. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“You too.” you mutter, taking a seat opposite him.

“So,” he clears his throat. “I saw you win yesterday, congratulations!”

“Thanks.” you beam. “I heard you guys got P2 and P3 for quali. Must be looking forward to this race huh?”

“Quite.” he hands you a plate of waffles. “You still like this, right?”

“You remembered.” you gasp. “Even the strawberries and bananas.”

“I checked with your mom to make sure I got it right.” his cheeks tinges with embarrassment. “Gotta feed next year’s potential F1 driver well.”

“What?” your jaw drops. “Formula 1?”

“I introduced you to Franz Tost for a reason. He told me he’d love to have you in Toro Rosso next year.” he muses. “Maybe after that, you’d be racing for Red Bull.”

“HOLY SHIT!” you scream. “Is this for real?”

“Yes. It is.” he chuckles.

“Wait, who’s leaving?” you pause.

“Well, you’ll be taking Daniil’s seat. Carlos is moving to Renault for the last few races which leaves you, hopefully, and Pierre to complete the team next year.”

“Will they still be racing next year?” you ask.

“Carlos will be with Renault and I’m still unsure about Kvyat.” he says. “So, thoughts?”

“I’d have to discuss it with my team but personally, it’d be an honor.”

If clarity's in death, then why won't this die? Years of tearing down our banners, you and I Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first

You get up from your bed, hands still clutching the picture frame. Based on the dark view outside your window, you assume you overslept, completely missing supper. You tuck the frame in a random drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.

You make your way to the kitchen, moving quietly to not wake anyone else up. You almost scream when you see your grandpa sitting on a barstool, a faint light casting a shadow.

“Why are you up so late?” you clutch your chest, trying to calm your heart.

“Just thinking, you know.” he mutters. “Worrying about you.”

“Oh Pa, I’m alright.” you hug him, taking a seat at his side. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, kiddo.” he breathes out. “I heard you crying earlier. I know you’re not fine.”

You sit there in silence. Although you were raised so open to emotions, you still had trouble expressing your own, worried about worrying others.

“When you had your first accident during your karting days, I freaked out. I almost had your mom pull you out, thinking that the sport was too much for you.” he starts. “Then, on our way to the car, you walked up to me and Nan and said, ‘look Pa! I have battle marks! I can go against the tough ones now!’. You had tears in your eyes and a bruise on your leg and arm, but you looked so happy.”

He grabs both of your hands, rubbing his thumbs across the back. “I knew then I didn’t have to protect you, not because you didn’t need it. God knows I tried my best to do that. But, you didn’t want it. You were so good on your own.”

“Not to be a sexist asshole but there were times when I wished you chose a more common hobby. Ballet, piano, anything that didn’t have a high risk of me losing you.” he breathes out. “It wasn’t just the physical aspect too. I just- I see complete strangers say just cruel things about you and how you started losing bits of yourself.”

“You’ve grown, but I used to be able to still see that little racer in her braids and a goofy smile with a missing tooth. Now, it’s like you turned into this machine. I get that it’s a tough sport but I worry you will lose your heart and spirit.”

“I- ” you sniffle, “I love racing. I know that.”

“I can see myself doing this for the rest of my life but right now I feel so lost.” you continue. “I never would’ve imagined being this close to achieving my dreams and now it’s gone.”

“And it’s silly. Like, I know I have mom. I have you and Nan. Abi too.” you breathe in. “But he should’ve been part of my life as well. He’s not just mom’s friend from college who knocked her up. He’s my father.”

Although your tears start to flow, you continue. “As much as his absence hurt, I still tried. I gave up my childhood and other dreams I had to be here.”

“The worst part of it all was me thinking I finally got what I wanted. That I finally had a dad.” you exhale. “Then he sold my femininity to the world then threw me away.”

God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind I regret you all the time I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time Oh, God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind I regret you all the time I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign

Heading to the track felt like hell, dread filled your stomach and your hands were clammy with sweat. For your sake, Abi had ensured you wouldn’t get any press time and to your surprise, the teams agreed. Thinking about it now, you assume it was to save their dwindling reputation. Although your social battery was at an all time low, you still stopped to interact with your fans on your way to and from the paddock. As genuine as your gratitude was, your smile and thank you’s were visibly forced.

Everyone knew what this race weekend meant to you. You’ve been looking forward to racing in Silverstone, making it your goal of the season to go on the podium at your home race in your dream team. However, that seems like something only possible in an alternate reality. Despite Max’s pleas of you staying in Red Bull, you refused. You didn’t even bother telling him about your shift back to Toro Rosso or that you had moved out of his place. He’ll find out one way or another.

Thankfully, your schedule and distance from their garage minimized your interactions with certain members of the Red Bull team. Nevertheless, keeping true to your promise, you invited Daniel and a couple other drivers to meals in between practices, doing your best to front a “I’m doing better than you think” facade. You even reached out to Alex Albon, making it clear that there is no bad blood between you and that his replacement isn’t something you took personally.

Come Sunday morning, you have grown accustomed to your new (or old) team. Staring at the mirror gave you a sense of deja vu; the bold text of “Red Bull” across your suit mocked you. Wiping off a few stray tears, you can’t help but think about yourself from a year ago and what she would’ve thought about your situation. Would she laugh at the irony or would she cry with you?

You turn around when you hear a faint knock. Abi peeks in, a small smile gracing her face. “It’s almost race time. Are you ready?”

“Fuck no.”

a/n: as always, would love to hear your thoughts so feedback is more than welcome (but please be kind) !!! to all that shared their love for Dear Reader, you have my heart and i hope this part did not disappoint 🫂 took a while to get here (seriously wrote a long ass piece then completely changed everything but ohwell) and i think i’m happy with the direction so far?? also, please let me know if you want to be part of the taglist or if it’s not working (still unsure abt how this works but i shall figure it out!)

taglist: @lighttsoutlewis @holy-macncheese-balls @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @idkiwantchocolatee @dan3avocado @aquamariene-me

#red bull racing #dear reader #would've could've should've #midnights #F1 #f1 x reader #F1 drivers #Max Verstappen #max verstappen x reader

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sebscore · 2 years ago

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Kids love gzd. like Jack Wolff thinks she's amazing and so do Horner's kids (they wanted to meet her and he bedrugingly forms an alliance with her so his kids can meet her). Penelope loves her too and so do Sebs kids (Mick and Charles included 😜) and gzd's like "I have no clue what's goingon here but I'm completely fine with it). And she constantly tries to be a role model for young girls who want to enter karting and once cried when a little girl said she was her hero and wrote an essay on her for school (everyone bullys her about crying but she dgf) Anyway enjoy my riot at 3:24 in the morning here when I have to go to church in like 4 hours. love your writing btw <3

jack always shyly waves at her whenever he sees her and susie thinks it's the cutest thing ever, and is like ''say hi to y/n, jack!'' :))) she's christian's daughter favourite driver and as soon as he learned that he talked less shit about her in the press lol- she gave olivia a signed cap at one of the GP's once and christian had almost never seen his daughter that happy <3

she def gets emotional anytime a little girl yells out for her, because she didnt have that growing up and knowing she can be that person for others means so much to her!!

hope you had a nice time at church and thank you for the lovely message, enjoyed reading this one!

#tgd #anon

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captainnameless · 1 year ago

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Charles has had the worst triple header I feel so bad for him :( Disqualified in COTA, booed in Mexico and a DNS in Brazil.

Poor boy just needs a hug and maybe one of Sebastian’s hoodies to wear. I feel like Lewis would get a call from a very distressed, tearful lil baby and be at his drivers room in 3 seconds flat, desperate to help him stop hurting.

Of course no pressure if you don’t feel like writing this. Also your minifics literally make my day <3

baby has just had a stinker of a season really, i saw a post where it explained all 17 races so far and i’m pretty sure Charles has had only 4 “clean” ones where nothing (bad) happened that was out of his control.

also i feel like shit so maybe writing baby charles feeling like shit will lessen my own achy chest.

Charles had dealt with it all so well, the heart break of another failure that wasn’t his, facing media and sports journalist and fans. They’d spoken briefly after Lewis had gotten out of the car, between his own interviews and Charles seemed okay; promised he was. Albeit tired.

When Charles’ name flashes onto his screen Lewis barely takes two seconds to answer, takes even less time to get up and out of his own hotel room when he hears how distressed Charles is.

Lewis sighs as he jogs through the halls of the hotel, trying to figure out where Charles’ room is, a small voice in the back of his mind telling him this is his fault. That he shouldn’t have let Charles leave alone but self reproach isn’t going to help the younger.

He still has Charles pressed to his ear on the phone, but they aren’t speaking, Charles is crying too much to be coherent anyway and Lewis’ heart sort of shatters when the sound of Charles’ cries is accompanied by a visual when he steps into Charles’ room.

“Oh, darling..” Lewis breathes, ending the call and locking the door behind him, kneeling down to join Charles on the floor and pull him into his lap.

Charles just sobs, embodying a wet noodle while Lewis manhandles him into his lap.

“You’re okay,” Lewis tries to soothe, holding Charles close. “You’re alright, breathe with me.”

Charles doesn’t seem interested in breathing, his eyes screwed shut while he hiccoughs into Lewis’ chest, hands clutching at the sweater Lewis is wearing.

Lewis frowns, he’s never seen Charles this upset and it’s a little unnerving. That same voice telling him he’s not good enough to be taking care of this. Lewis pushes it away.

“Charles, poppet.. Hey.” Lewis tries again, squeezing Charles tight and pressing their faces close together. “I’m right here, you’re safe, you’re okay. Breathe.”

Charles does lean into the touch, the grip of Lewis’ sweater loosening with every gasp-y breath he takes with Lewis, body slowly relaxing against Lewis’ chest, shaking stopping.

“Daddy!” Charles cries once he catches his breath, more tears leaking from his eyes.

“Shh.” Lewis soothes, brushing Charles’ tears away. “We’re gonna call Daddy in a second okay, see if he’s awake. Gotta calm down a little more for me okay?” Lewis hopes Sebastian is still awake, their time zone only 4 hours behind so he’s liking their odds.

There’s a soft whine that leaves Charles but no real protest as he stuffs two fingers into his mouth, trying to lessen his tears.

“Good boy,” Lewis whispers, still softly brushing the tears off of Charles’ cheeks and pressing soft kisses to his forehead until the tears have stopped leaking from his eyes.

Charles flushes under the praise, noticeable even with how red he already is from crying and buries his face into Lewis’ chest. “Daddy?” He asks again, this time muffled.

Lewis shifts to get his phone out, pressing the favorites tab before tapping Sebastian’s name. It goes to voicemail the first time and Lewis panics only a little but Sebastian answers on the second call.

Sebastian doesn’t even speak before his face contorts with hurt as their picture fills the screen, eyeing up a distraught Charles.

“Charlie, no, what’s wrong?” Sebastian asks, Lewis can tell he’s leaving whatever room he’s in, moving somewhere more quiet.

“Daddy.” Charles just says, voice miserable and mumbled around his fingers, still pressed against Lewis’ chest.

“Daddy’s here, on the phone. I’m sorry I can’t be with you, sweetheart.” Sebastian looks miserable saying, probably wishing for a teleportation device. “But you’ve got Uncle Lew, huh?”

Charles nods and Lewis holds Charles a little closer, pressing another kiss to his head. “I’m so glad you called.”

“You called?” Sebastian asks, full of praise. “Good job!”

They both know Charles has struggled asking for help with Sebastian off the grid, so Sebastian makes sure to praise him for it every time.

They sit and talk for a bit, up until Charles’ eyes start drooping, exhausted from the emotions and the tears.

“Bedtime,” Sebastian declares through the phone, and there’s an immediate pout on Charles’ lips. “Did you have a shower yet?”

A small smile plays on Lewis’ features, amused at the pout. He knows Charles hasn’t showered yet, still in his track clothes.

“Not yet,” the younger answers.

“So shower, then bed. You need the rest, sweetheart. We can call again tomorrow, I promise.” Sebastian says.

“No.” Charles whines, taking the phone out of Lewis’ hands to hold it closer.

“I’ll stay with you, huh?” Lewis adds, knowing he cannot replace Sebastian, but he knows Charles doesn’t not like the substitute.

“Sounds good,” Sebastian answers for him and so Charles nods. They end the call after an almost tearful goodbye that Lewis manages to control, helps Charles into the shower before rummaging through his suitcase to get him something comfortable.

All soft and warm out of the shower Charles basically falls asleep the second Lewis pulls him into his chest, blanket covering them both.

Lewis presses one less kiss to Charles’ damp hair before closing his own eyes.

#littlef1adventures #lf1a.minific

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cupcakes-and-pain · 1 year ago

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Shoot Dang It. Guess who they forgot to pack in the Go-Bag? Coco's favorite toy and her Poppas first comfort item 🐸🥞! Riley knows she'll throw a fit once she realizes they don't have him there.

***

After waiting at the door for a concerning amount of time, Riley lets himself in. It'd be easy enough to place the stuffed frog on the counter and leave if it hadn't been for the broken dish left in the middle of the floor that left him with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Riley paces quickly down the hall, in time with his pounding heart, towards the growing sound of Collette's cries.

Ollie's head snaps up at Riley's sudden entrance. The baby scooped up from the mess immediately to be inspected for injury. Ollie prepares a quick breath to dole out a speedy explanation.

"Is this lead based?! Shit- No no, baby, don't rub your eyes," Riley locks eyes back onto Charles to Ollie's surprise. "Is. This. Toxic!!"

"No, I assure you it's not-" Riley ignores Charles in favor of bustling through the supplies for a rag. He gives it a preliminary smell to be sure it's not coated in turpentine before scrubbing at the fussy toddler's hands and gently wiping at her smudged face. "Ollie was only-"

"Don't," Riley snaps. Charles straightens himself politely for his guest. "Don't act like you didn't run away as soon as you saw her with me. This is your studio, your paint, and your fault!"

"The damage done to my assets-"

And that does it for Riley, he nearly considers handing Coco off to Ollie for the moment but he figures things would be safer with the baby as a buffer between them.

"You assets?!" Riley sees red and the next thing he knows he's shaking his leg out of a foot sized hole in the painter's canvas. "You could never understand REAL damage," he grits through his teeth before casting an understanding and apologetic look to Ollie who sits trembling on the sidelines.

The room is silent, Charles is stoic, Coco and Riley are sniffling. He gives Ollie one last pained look, muttering on his way out.

"Don't worry, I won't bring her to your precious mansion anymore." The last thing Ollie can process before they're gone is Coco stretching over her Poppas shoulder towards him, desperately grabbing at the air, blubbering out a heartbreaking

"No Lollie buhbye. Lollie no buhbye..."

Ollie was kicking and screaming as I tried to put him onto the page. He did not want t be written, but eventually I was able to pin him down and force him. Anyway. Sorry it’s been 10 days 😬🫣 But at least it’s here at last!!

***

Ollie and his Master stood in shock, staring at the ruined painting. At first, neither spoke, but then Ollie sprang into action.

“Hey!” He ran over to Riley, fury deep in his heart and spreading onto his face. “Apologize at once! How dare you treat Mr. Charles and his painting so cruelly? How- how could you? You’re just a mean, disgusting… Ugh!” Ollie couldn’t speak. He didn’t have words, words that he actually meant. He just wanted to cry.

Why would Riley to this to Master, to Ollie?! How are they supposed to make money now? Does Riley want Master not to have have money?

Ollie felt awful, like his insides were going to war. He didn’t say what he was really thinking, he didn’t know how. Without money… Master wouldn’t feed Ollie, would he? It was his friend and the toddler he was babysitting who ruined the painting. And even if it wasn’t, Ollie was very far on the list of priorities. No money coming in means Master would have to spend it selectively, and Ollie had no illusions that filling his mouth with undeserved treats was no where near one of the things selected.

Ollie wouldn’t get food and maybe not even water until Master got more money, and who knew how long that could be. Depends on how long Master will take to sell a painting. There were a few that he hadn’t sold yet, other than the newest one. But if he wasn’t able to sell a painting? Or it didn’t make enough? It could be days until he got fed, maybe even weeks.

And if only it was just no food. But no, Ollie would be beaten soon for his horrible, horrible behavior.

Ollie sniffled, holding his tears back.

Stupid Riley and his stupid face! He was ungrateful, rude, horrible, and- and-

He was miserable.

Master still stood in silence, seeming to be unable to look anywhere else. Ollie wanted to crawl up and comfort him, rub his head against Master’s hand. He knew there was a chance that would only provoke his Master, get Ollie hurt faster. But he didn’t care, he needed to feel Master’s touch in that moment, even if it hurt.

Master didn’t hurt him, though. Instead, he ran his fingers through Ollie’s hair and pat his head, still staring ahead.

Riley had looked so hurt and angry. Coco was lost and confused, if only he could hold her hand and shush her cries. He shouldn’t have yelled. Ollie hoped he hadn’t just lost his friend forever.

How could it all have gone so wrong so fast?

#ask #morelikepainsley #Charles & Ollie #Charles Durand #Ollie #coco paints series #tw fear #tw fear of punishment #Whumpee thinks they’ll be starved #I forgot the tag

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21witnokidz · 2 years ago

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IN THE GHETTO

Chapter 20

A/N: I'm sorry I've been inactive due to pure laziness so as an apology here's a long and satisfying chapter

“Alright good boy copper!”

It was your turn to take the dog on a walk and he managed to catch himself a rabbit. Despite you and Arthur splitting you still decided to keep the dog and take turns taking care of him.

When you got back to camp you could hear the loud cries of a baby.

Jack Marston, John and Abigail’s son was born 2 years ago. He’s a good kid but he can sure cry his heart out. Especially since John up and left us.

John’s explanation was that he thought the baby wasn’t his. Before he got Abigail pregnant she had already been with half the gang so it made him anxious. When the baby came out he couldn’t really tell who’s it was but as the days went on it started to look more and more not like him.

John is still pretty young but damn you thought having a baby would mature him a little.

“Hey Abigail you doing alright?” You stepped inside Abigail’s little tent.

“Does it look like it? The baby won’t shut up and his father ain’t even here. How am I supposed to do this alone?”

“You’re not alone”

“This baby needs his father!”

You took Jack from her arms and tried to rock him a little. Since you were still getting used to handling a baby you didn’t really know how to calm him down. He just kept on crying.

Abigail sighed and took him back.

“It’s ok y/n you shouldn’t have to. I just wish I wasn’t so careless. Even now Dutch and them look at me differently. The only ones who still treat me the same is the girls, you and Arthur. Y/n.. you and Arthur have known John way longer than I have. Can you please bring him back?”

You never really been on a job with Arthur ever since the break up so you really didn’t want to do this. But you were going to for your friend.

“Alright I’ll see what I can do”

You walked out the tent and let out the deep breath you were holding ever since Abigail mentioned Arthur’s name. God you wished he didn’t have such an effect on you.

You looked to see Charles heading your way.

“She ok?”

“Yea but she asked me to go with Arthur to try and find John”

“I could come with you guys”

“No you don’t have to. I know you're a good hunter but I don't know if that'll still apply to humans"

Charles sat you down and began massaging your shoulders.

“You’re so tense. I think you should rest up and go tomorrow. I saved you some food while you were gone”

“Thank you Charles” See Charles was nice but the thing is. You can’t stop thinking about Arthur. You just didn’t want to do anything about it because you didn’t want to break his heart.

“Speaking of Arthur I’m gonna go see what he wants. He was calling me earlier when I was busy so I’m gonna go check on him”

Charles walked over to the horses where he found Arthur feeding his horse.

“Arthur” Charles nodded.

“Charles! I was asking if you could teach me how to use that bow of yours. If you’d be so kind”

“Sure thing”

Charles handed Arthur his own bow and they went into the woods.

“Sorry about what happened between you and Mary”

“Yea it was never meant to be anyway”

“What makes you say that?”

“I dunno I guess things just weren’t in their right place. You ever feel like that sometimes?”

“Yea. Hey look. A boar”

The men ducked and quietly kneeled towards the beast.

“Oh Pearson will be happy with this one”

“Ok just put the arrow in the string and slightly draw it back. Not too much though”

Arthur drew the arrow and missed completely, scaring off the boar.

“Damn! It got away. I'm sorry my mind wasn’t clear”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just everything from y/n to Mary and John. This is exactly what I meant when I said everything isn’t in the right place”

“What about y/n?”

“Oh don’t play dumb you kno- oh that’s right… you don’t know”

Charles stopped what he was doing and raised his brow.

“Well I didn’t wanna be the one to tell ya this partner but before you joined us we had some history”

“She never told me that”

“I mean there's nothing between us now but I can’t lie. I think about her a lot. Even with Mary, I only got with her to try and forget about what we once had”

“You still love her?”

“Listen that don’t matter. You two are in love now and that’s it”

“I’m not sure about that. Even when me and y/n are together it never feels like she’s really there. And whenever we talk she somehow always makes the topic about something that has to do with you. I didn’t want to believe it then but I guess I always had a feeling there was something between you two”

“I’m sorry. Let’s just go back”

“No it’s fine. Just let me know how you feel about her and I’ll leave you two alone. And be honest”

“Well.. I only ever talked about this with Dutch and Hosea. We first met and got together when we were just kids. She was my first everything. God we were so young and stupid. We’ve been through a lot of things together. Done a lot of things together… said a lot of things. But like I said that don’t matter no more. You two are gonna have a baby and that’ll be the end of whatever we had”

“Baby? What the hell are you talking about?”

“When you guys were in town. I heard you talking about a baby in the store”

Charles couldn’t help but bend over laughing with his hands on his stomach.

“No Arthur you got it all wrong. We were talking about Abigail’s baby”

“Oh” Arthur scratched his neck “well now I feel stupid”

“Not to be mean but you really are an idiot. If you love that girl so much then go get her. I’m sure she still loves you”

“What about you?”

“Forget about me. I’d want her to be with the man she really wants”

Arthur just shook his head “Man you really are different from everyone else here. How’d a guy like you even end up with guys like us?”

“Sometimes I wonder that myself”

By the time Arthur and Charles made it back it was already dark.

“She’s most likely sleeping now so you might as well go in the morning”

“Thanks again Charles”

Morning

You walked out your tent to get some coffee and sat down next to Charles.

“Hi” you kissed him on the cheek.

“Y/n can I talk to you?”

“Yea what’s up?”

“Arthur told me all about you two and I realize now that I’ve been holding you back. I heard your story and you two really belong to each other. Because you’re both idiots”

You just had a blank stare and started laughing a little.

“Aw man. No, you’re right. I’m sorry for all this Charles. This whole thing has been a mess”

“Don’t dwell on it too much. I just think everything should go back to how it used to be. John should be back and you and Arthur should be together again. Even when you aren’t together you still compliment each other perfectly”

“Thank you Charles” you got up and hugged him.

You heard Arthur call your name from the horses for you to get ready and ride off.

“Ok I gotta go now I guess I’ll see you when I get back”

“Yea. And bring that other idiot back with you. It’s not the same without hearing the banter between him and Abigail”

You walked. No you power walked to where Arthur was. Now that everything was resolved you were happy to be around him again. Well almost everything was resolved. You still had to deal with Mary. Still you’d find your way around that soon enough.

Arthur had a smug smile when you approached him. “Hey troublemaker”

“You call me the troublemaker? Get real Morgan. Weren’t you the one who got John stuck in that O’Driscoll camp?”

“Who was the one who thought it’d be a good idea to shoot at birds deep in the night?”

“Who was the one who decided to burn the tent down trying to boil WATER”

“So we’re not gonna talk about that one time you almost led an actor to suicide?”

“No that was you! Don’t put that on me!”

“But you definitely made a contribution”

“Ok fine we’ll call it even”

“So I heard some people saying that there was a man who was camping out at the woods taking bounties”

“Yea that sounds like him. Come on”

You got off your horses and walked into the nearby town with the witnesses.

You saw a woman hanging out her clothes to dry and Arthur kicked his boot up on her wash bucket to greet her. Is he trying to show off or?

“Excuse me ma’am. Have you seen a dirty man bout yay tall” he put his hand up to his chin to show a poor demonstration of John’s height “he’s dirty and smells like dog”

“Oh you know what we should’ve gotten Copper to track him down that would’ve been easier” You explained.

Arthur lowered his head and sighed. “Listen can you just tell us where he is?”

“Well folks said he was gettin’ rough in that bar over there. I wouldn’t recommend gettin’ him riled up though I heard he bites people” The woman responded

You and Arthur just laughed. “Thank you ma’am. Let’s go”

“Y’know I never got the chance to tell you this but I’m happy for you and Mary”

“Me and Mary ain’t together no more”

“REALLY? I mean- really?? Why what happened?”

“Just didn’t feel right” he looked at you.

When you two entered the bar you already heard a ruckus.

“I told you my name ain’t John Marston. It’s Rip Van Winkle!”

“And I told you I don’t serve criminals. This is your wanted poster right here ain’t it?” The bartender pulled out the bounty and John let out a noise you could only identify as shock.

“That’s uh- that’s not me”

“Oh that’s him alright” you spoke up.

John slowly turned around with a scowl on his face.

“What are you two doing here?”

“What are YOU doing here?”

“Listen I don’t care what y’all have to say I’m not coming back”

“Abigail is really struggling without you and you’re just out here getting drunk without a care in the world“

“Y/n I put all my heart into caring for Abigail when she was pregnant. Now I come to find out that the baby ain’t even mine. It looks like it could be Dutch’s”

“Does that even matter? I thought you loved her”

“And I thought she loved me!”

“Alright I’ve had enough” Arthur came and grabbed John by the ear “yer coming back with us ya hear? You need to grow up and be a man!”

Arthur dragged him outside with you behind them and you were found surrounded by the police.

“I told you it’s them. Arthur Morgan, Y/N L/N, and John Marston all lined up!” The bartender slipped away while y’all were talking and got the law here.

“Well I’ll be damned” one of them tipped their hat. “Alright all of you come nice and easy now”

“What do we do?” You looked at Arthur.

“Just comply” he put his hands up and you and John followed.

IN JAIL

Now you three idiots were sitting looking dumb in jail. Now you finally realized why you three got that nickname. After all, before John came it used to be the two idiots. Me and Arthur. It makes you wonder. When Jack grows up is he gonna be a new addition to this unruly group of dimwits?

“I really thought she loved me” John muttered.

“She does John” you walked over to his side and put a hand on his back “and if you think she didn’t love you back then she has to now after all you’ve done for her. And to be honest, she’s not the only one who needs you. We need you. Including Arthur”

“Nah don’t bring me into this” Arthur asserted. “But y/n’s right. Some people in the camp need you”

You nudged his arm. “Ok I need you too from time to time”

“What the hell do you two know about love anyway? It’s not like you ever made it work out with each other. When we first met you two was like Romeo and Juliet and now it's all messed up. Arthur has Mary and you have Charles”

“Well actually..” you started.

“We kinda got..” Arthur continued.

“Dumped” you both said in unison.

Immediately John’s face brightened.

“So you two are going strong again!?” He said with a smile.

“We never said that-“ Arthur started.

“We’re just open now” you finished.

“Oh come on. You two are literally finishing each other’s sentences. Maybe if you two get back together then my mind will be convinced that me and Abigail can get back together too”

“Or how about if you go back to camp now then maybe me and Arthur will think about it”

“Alright”

Arthur looked at you and smiled, happy that you were ready to try again.

“Hey buddy!” You called out to the sheriff keeping watch of you three and handed him a 20 dollar bill. “Come on I know you want it”

The sheriff took the dollar and released you then shut the door when John and Arthur tried to walk out.

“What the hell?”

“She was the only one who gave me the 20 so she’s the only one who gets to leave”

They rolled their eyes and put the money into his hands and they were released.

Back at camp

Everything was back to normal now. John was back. Everyone was happy and you didn’t have to worry anymore.

You sat by a lake with Copper right next to you until you heard Arthur come up behind you.

“I ain’t bothering you am I?”

“No”

He sat down next to you and started petting Copper. “So we’re open now huh?”

“How would you explain it?” You laughed.

“I don’t know. All I do know is that I was a fool to try and get with Mary when I was the one who broke up with you. Are you mad at me?”

“A little”

“I understand. I don’t expect you to forgive me but I’m sorry”

Copper stood up to lay across you and Arthur’s legs.

You two looked at each other.

“Do you forgive me y/n?”

You put your hand on top of Arthur’s and he knew his answer.

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr 2 x reader #red dead redemption x reader #arthur morgan #yeehaw

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lxclerc · 2 years ago

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

SUMMARY: an affair between you and charles runs deep as it breaks all of your hearts REQUESTED: no WARNING: angst, cheating, physical violence, suggestive language, reader is described to have brown eyes PAIRING: charles leclerc x reader, pierre gasly x reader WORD COUNT: 3.6k

NOTE: based off “bad omens” by 5sos. also this is a repost in hopes that tumblr's done messing up

MASTERLIST

i cried in your dark brown eyes for the thousandth time ‘cause you love somebody.

He nurses the beer keeping his hands cold. He doesn’t like beer. He doesn’t like the bitter aftertaste that lingers in his tongue but it was better that than think back to your words, your dark brown eyes haunting him whenever he closes his eyes.

“I love somebody else,” you told him and Charles felt his heart shatter at the weight of your words, so quiet within the darkness of his bedroom he almost missed it.

“That’s okay,” he told you but you both know he was lying. It wasn’t okay. Nothing about this is okay but it would have to be. It has to be enough. Your half love has to be enough. Watching you leave but knowing you’ll come back has to be enough.

“I love him,” you say and neither of you are sure if you’re convincing him or yourself, saying it again and again as if it would change the fact that you’re here, naked in his arms, in his apartment, instead of back home with your fiance, the one patiently waiting for you not knowing you’re wrapped in his best friend’s arms.

“I know,” he says but he doesn’t let you go anyways. A lie, it’s all lies. You don’t love him. You both know this. That’s why you can’t stop. That’s why neither can he. You can say it as much as you want, try to convince yourself and him as your guilty conscience eats away at you but the truth remains; you don’t love Pierre. You had once upon a time but not anymore. Not till you met his best friend and immediately realized those green eyes would follow you for the rest of your life, not till it was too late.

Charles shuts his eyes, gulping the entirety of his beer at one go as he tries to forget the sight of you leaving.

i died when you left that night for the thousandth time.

“I should have met you first,” he cried that night for the thousandth time just as he had every other night you have to say goodbye. “It should have been me.”

And you’re crying too, needing to say goodbye for the thousandth time as you hold onto him as if you’re terrified to let go, as if letting go might mean forever. “I know, I know.”

And maybe it is forever this time. Maybe this is the last time. You both know it should be with the new ring on your finger but Charles can’t help but hope anyway. He hopes this is just another one of your broken promises to stay away.

But there’s goodbye in your eyes, the same one that had been there as Pierre kneeled in front of you that afternoon, a bright smile on his face as your friends and family surrounded you, as he promised to love you. You couldn’t say no, not in front of everyone. You couldn’t break him so cruelly like that and so you said yes, so feeble and so quiet you’re surprised no one had noticed the crack in your voice. Or perhaps they had and simply thought it’s from happiness, not realizing they’re watching you break into a thousand irreparable pieces.

You should have been the happiest girl on earth and yet as your boyfriend slips the ring into your finger, your heart breaks as you dare not but look into your lover’s eyes standing behind him, terrified to see the obvious heartbreak that reflects yours.

This is the last time and this will be the last time that you say it is. You owe it to Pierre.

“Let’s run away,” Charles all but pleads as he holds you, his body shaking as he sobs, his forehead against yours, inhaling as much of your scent as he can before he never gets another chance to. “Please. Let’s leave and never come back. I’ll give up everything.”

And you only cry harder as you shake your head. It would be so easy to just say fuck everything and leave it all behind, leave your life behind and follow your heart, but you have been selfish for so long and now you owe it to Pierre to try, to learn to love him and the life he promised you again. You owe it to him to try and forget Charles, to let him go despite how much you want to hold on tighter.

“We can’t,” you say, your voice breaking as you hold his face in your hands, trying to memorize every curve, every freckle. “We can’t do that. Not to Pierre.”

And Charles only cries harder. He would have been willing to fight. He would have been willing to give up everything; his home, racing, Pierre, everything he’s ever known. He would have been willing to accept it all; the scrutiny and the hate, the judgment and the fury. He would have been willing to watch the world burn, willing to let go of all his morals and everything he ever stood for just to be with you, just to never have to say goodbye again.

But it doesn’t matter how much he’s ready to lose, not when you’re already letting go of his hand.

“I don’t love him.” A confession, a whisper, an admittance. It’s the first time you’ve ever said it, ever admitted to the truth you both knew all along. “But I can’t love you.”

And with that, you’re gone.

heaven knows i should let go. it’s nothing i don’t already know.

Funnily enough, it was Pierre that started the domino effect. The moment the two of you had been introduced, Charles thought you were beautiful of course. He would be blind not to, but he thought of nothing else. He gave you a friendly smile as he shook your hand in greeting. He knows close to nothing about you other than you’re also from Monaco and his best friend is absolutely smitten.

As the dinner progressed, it wasn't hard to understand why. You’re beautiful, your laugh is captivating and your words had everyone at the edge of their seats. But still, he was the perfect kind of friendly, completely platonic. He thought you and Pierre looked good together.

And as the night comes to a close and everyone says their goodbyes, Charles had told Pierre you were good for him. He’d given you a friendly kiss on the cheek before you and Pierre drove away and that was that.

He barely thought of you again the following days apart from seeing your occasional post on instagram he stumbled across.

It was Pierre who pushed the domino that started it all one wednesday afternoon during the summer break. You had a job in Monaco and Pierre was spending time with family in France but he’d promised to see you for the last week of his break. You’d taken time off work and had everything planned.

Up until he’d sent you a message canceling, promising to be there next wednesday instead, giving the two of you only three days to spend together before the season starts back up again. You did your best to understand. He missed his family and he should be able to spend as much time with them as he can but that doesn't mean you’re able to hide your disappointment as you stare at the message on your phone.

And it was just pure fate that Charles happened to be in the same restaurant you’d made reservations for you and Pierre. It’s a fancy place in Monte Carlo and getting a table is near impossible and so you didn't want to waste the opportunity of missing out on good food.

Charles, whose date had just canceled on him due to an emergency, was quick to spot your familiar face. Had Pierre been there, he would have just said hello and went on his merry way after wishing the two of you a good night.

And maybe in another universe that would have been exactly what he’d done. Maybe in another universe he wouldn’t have given you the bouquet of flowers he got for his date in an attempt to remove the frown on your face. In another universe he wouldn’t have sat in front of you. In another universe the two of you didn’t have dinner that night. In another universe he wouldn’t have fallen completely captivated by your laugh, so much so that he had cracked many corny jokes in his attempts to hear them again.

In another universe you wouldn’t have told him about your canceled plans and the time off work that you took and he wouldn’t have invited you to join him and his friends on a hiking trip. He wouldn’t have asked you to join him on his yacht right after and the two of you wouldn’t have spent the entire week completely inseparable.

If Pierre had been there, he wouldn’t have fallen for your laugh and you wouldn’t have gotten lost in his eyes. In another universe, in another world, maybe the two of you wouldn’t have made such a big mess of things.

But Pierre wasn’t there and so you spent a blissful week together, completely naive in what your friendship would become.

And when Pierre came, it was too late. The chain of events had started. You had knowing smiles and inside jokes not even Pierre is welcomed in. You would only grow closer, sharing a bond and a friendship that was becoming more.

And by the time either of you realized what was happening, you were already too close, unable to let each other go despite knowing that you should.

can’t help the way i keep ignoring every omen

Pierre knows there was something wrong with you. There have been for a while now. You’re different. Your smile isn’t the way it used to be and neither is your laugh. You always seem so far away now as though you’d rather be anywhere but next to him.

He missed you. He missed your smile and your warmth. He missed your kisses and your touch. Everything is empty.The room is empty. The space between the two of you is empty. The bed you shared is empty. Your hearts are empty. He should have seen it coming.

He ignored every bad omen because he was so desperately in love with you. You were slipping right through his fingers and the thought frightened him more than anything. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, of learning to live without you. You’re addicting, one taste and anyone would be a goner. Pierre wasn’t an exception.

And so he proposed. It was the only thing he could think of. It would be so much harder to divorce a husband than break up with a boyfriend after all. He knew his reasoning wasn’t the best but he was way past caring. He’d gotten desperate, an addict determined not to lose his fix.

And maybe a part of him half expected you to say no, to make up some excuse about not being ready for marriage. And maybe a part of him took notice of your sad eyes, of the way your heart breaks in front of him. And maybe if he tried a little harder, he would have seen the exact same look on his best friend’s eyes.

And maybe he would have known then. But Pierre ignored every sign, every omen. All to keep you in his arms.

that’s what you do when you love somebody

You’re dizzy, your hands clammy and the lace of the wedding dress you’re wearing seems to suffocate you no matter how many times you pull at it.

Everyone around you seems to be unaware of the rock in your stomach, sinking and sinking till you fear you can no longer hold it. Perhaps you’re a better liar than you thought because not a single person questioned your fake smiles and rigid, tense stature.

You’re getting married to the best man who genuinely adores you. You should be the happiest woman in the world right now so does it feel like you’re marching to your death with your hands tied behind your back? Why do you want to run and never look back? Why does the urge to curl into a ball and cry feel so strong?

In a few minutes time, you will be making vows and in doing so, breaking the ones you’ve made before. Ones whispered in a blanket of darkness with heavy breaths of desperation.

“Are you ready?” Your best friend, your made of honor, asked and you made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Suddenly you feel like the weight of everything is pressing against your skin and you want nothing more than to turn around and start running.

Run to Charles’ arms and let him fix everything. Months after the summer break that had started everything, you had worshiped Charles Leclerc. He made a cathedral out of your body and for a foolish, naive moment, Charles believed his mouth was the antidote that would cure the broken shards of your betrayal.

Maybe you believed it too. It’s always so easy to forget with his lips on your skin.

But like everything beautiful and rebellious, like fallen angels who turned their backs on God, the two of you fell and crashed and burned, the wreck you left after you set your hearts aflamed. You should have known nothing good would ever come from something born out of broken promises.

Two people who knew heartache so well should have known better than to play with flames.

You tear your gaze away from your best friend’s eyes, taking a deep breath as you mustered all the courage you had left. “I am.”

It was a never ending cycle. Everyday, you would attempt to forget, to numb your burnt heart and silence your aching soul. You would go about your day, friends by your side, your fiance holding your hand and you would try to forget how you wished it’s someone else’s hand you’re holding. Hands that touched you in places no one else has, fingers that traced your skin and memorized every dip and bump.

And sometimes, you succeed. Sometimes, you don’t look to the other side of the paddock where he stands. Sometimes, you numb yourself just enough that the physical ache of not being able to hold Charles disappears for a few glorious hours that you don’t feel like a traitor when Pierre touches you.

Then the night falls and you’re laying in bed and waves of sadness crashes in like a fucking tornado determined to destroy everything you’ve built brick by brick. Your skin feels dirty and you feel empty, void and dull of everything that made you you.

You read somewhere that the body regenerates every seven years and you lay there fearing the day where your skin had never been touched by your lover.

The crowd stood as the piano played and you walked down the altar. You can see your mother crying, your younger brother holding her tightly. You can see your friends, your people, ones you grew up with. They all looked at you with happy smiles on their faces as if they knew you’re doing the right thing. How can they know when you don’t?

And then your eyes caught his. He stood by the corner, dark hair falling to his face. He watched with such anguish that made you stop in your tracks, hearing everyone gasps as you stood frozen. Pierre invited him. Of course he had. Charles is his best friend. Why wouldn’t he be invited to his wedding?

You never thought he’d come though. You hoped he had more self preservation than that, but you really should have known better. Charles is a masochist, believing himself worthy of the pain and so he welcomes them with open arms, always silent as the tears fall. Especially when it comes to you.

His lips are shut and his eyes are glassy. He watches and you wish he’d stop. If the two of you can’t leave together then you hoped Charles would leave now. You hoped the man you love would turn back and not let himself witness the breaking of his own heart. If you can’t save him then you hoped Charles would save himself.

Your hands clenched as if you’d reached for him and Charles stood breathless and he wonders what if they do? What if you reached for him? He knew what he’d do. He’d take them. He’d turn his back on his family, his best friend. He’d reach for you, he’d crawl to you. You could take him apart, break him and destroy his life and Charles would plead on his knees for you to stay.

The orchestra now feels like a death march. Everyone is staring, whispering and Pierre looks like he’s about to break, but you’re still not moving. You’re still staring at Charles and he at you, one of you waiting for the other.

The first time you made love, you could have sworn you just signed your own death contract. Gods be damn, heaven be damned. You would burn a thousand times for this. If you were made for hell then let it be hell. You will accept damnation for this. You had never tasted passion like this, love like this. Pain like this.

You forced yourself to look away from Charles, finally turning to Pierre and so you looked at the sight of your old lover, your heart breaks a little bit more. You wished your heart would beat out of your chest and your soul would roar everytime they do when Charles is touching you. But you wish for a lot things

After your last goodbye with Charles, you’d spent weeks trying to chase that feeling. You drank and rode in fast cars. You kissed Pierre, kissed his skin and touched him as you would touch Charles. You tried everything, desperate to make your heart beat fast the way it did the week you spent together.

None of it worked. You wondered how anyone could explain the physical pain in your chest when all you want is to be with the one you love. What is a bigger tragedy? That you can’t have Charles or that you had him only to not be able to keep him?

Charles’ eyes don't leave you. If only for the last time, if only for the hopelessness of it all, he pleads again. Say the word and I will crawl to you. Say the word. Say the word. Say the word.

You remain quiet but you did something else. You let the flowers you were holding drop to the ground, staring at Pierre as the tears fall. And as everyone watched you, you turned around, running out of the cathedral as though you were in a movie.

For a moment Charles stood there as pandemonium within the guest broke. Pierre was immediately after you but the Ferrari driver seems to be stuck, still staring at where you stood seconds ago. You looked beautiful in your white dress, so beautiful it almost felt like you were something out of a dream.

And Charles had thought you weren’t his. For as long as the two of you had been together, he’d always been the one always willing to risk more. You were always hesitant, always guilty and almost alway ready to say goodbye. It was always Charles on his knees as he pleaded for you to stay.

You can never turn your back enough on Pierre to allow yourself to love him.

But perhaps this is why you’d asked him not to come. Perhaps you knew all along that you’d be unable to continue if he’s watching you. How are you expected to break both of your hearts?

And then Charles is moving, following after you and Pierre as he pushes through the throng of people also attempting to get to you. You and Pierre are at the garden where the reception would have been held. You’re crying, hands on your face as mascara ran down your cheeks, your dress bunched up around you as Pierre stared at you with so much hatred and anger.

And Charles knew then.

As Pierre raised his head from the sound of Charles’ footsteps, the Frenchman seemed to only see red, your words echoing in his head.

“I can’t marry you.”

“I’m in love with someone else.”

“Charles-”

And before either of you could react, Pierre is at Charles, tackling him to the ground and his fist colliding with his best friend’s face. Dimly, Charles is aware of you screaming. Dimly, he’s aware of the people from the church running towards you guys but Charles only stays there. He takes the hits. He stays there, refusing to fight back.

Perhaps it was always meant to end like this. Years and years of friendship, a bond strengthened through grief, heartbreak and hardships, a companionship that all thought would last forever.

Eventually, someone manages to pull Pierre away, his fist bloodied along with Charles’ face. And maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you were rubbing salt in the wound but you were immediately on Charles’ side, gently holding his bloodied face in your hands as tears streamed down your face.

Charles’ body aches and he can barely stand straight but his arms are around you, trying to hold you together, trying to shield you from the scrutinizing eyes of the guests, trying to save you from Pierre’s hatred and anger.

Pierre is crying now too as the groomsmen hold him back from attacking Charles again.

“You are dead to me,” he said, pointing at his best friend before he stalked away, leaving them standing there in shock.

Maybe in another universe, it wouldn’t have ended up this way.

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onlyonetifosi · 2 years ago

Text

Why me? How you dare?

-> Word Count: 1950

->Author note: 2nd part? And I would appreciate some ideas to write . English is not my first language so sorry for mistakes

Pierre Galsy, love of my life or that what i tougth only a month ago . It's been a little over a month since Pierre and I broke up, and I still can't understand why it happened. My twin brother Arthur was the one who found out first. He came into my room, sat down on my bed, and just looked at me. I could tell something was wrong. "What is it?" I asked him. "Pierre broke up with you," he said simply showing me a letter.

I couldn't believe it. I had thought things were going so well between us. We had been together for almost two years, and I had never been happier. But apparently, Pierre didn't feel the same way. He told in the letter that he didn't think we were compatible anymore and that he needed some time to be alone. I was heartbroken. I cried for days and refused to leave my room.

My older brother Charles tried to comfort me, but I just couldn't seem to snap out of it. Finally, after about a week, I decided to get out of bed and face the world again. But even though I'm slowly moving on, I can't help but wonder what went wrong. Why did Pierre break up with me? Was there something I did wrong?

I spend my nights crying for him, we were so happy for years but he decided out of nothing to cut laces with me and he was gone when i came home from work one night. Its heartbreaking only knowing about him from his bestfriend, the problem is that his bestfriend is my older brother Charles, Charles Leclerc, the one that said years ago that his friends where forbidden, but i didn't listen to him and now im facing the consequences.

Why I had to be so stubborn, I wish I had listened to him.

-Allez princesse, lève-toi, on dîne avec maman- Charles says entering in my room and opening the curtains for the sun to enter in my room, I cover myself with my duvets but he rip them of me as I growl at him .

-Allez! Je sais que tu ne veux pas parler, mais on doit dîner avec ma femme- he says to me as I roll my eyes and groan in displeased, today im having dinner at Charles house with all our family and his girlfriend, Charlotte,don't get me wrong Ilike her a lot but Im not in the mood to talk to anyone. I dont know why Charles dragged me here, but it seems like he wants to talk to me about something. I go in the bathroom and brush my teeth while glancing myself in the mirror and i notice that im really skinny now that im not eating that much ever since Pierre left. "Im sorry for what happened two years ago" Charles says as he enters in the bathroom "I should have listened to you when you said no guy was allowed around here" I say as we sit down on the floor of my room while we watch TV. "Pierre is a good guy" he says as he changes the channel "You two were perfect for each other, you just need to let go and move on" he says as he changes the channel again. "Im sorry" I say as I look down. "How about a big plate of ice cream?" Charles says as he gets up from the floor. "No thank you, its alright" I say while keeping my head down. "I'm going to get one anyway" Charles says before he leaves my room.

I turn off the TV before laying down on my bed with my box of tissues. I take out a tissue before wiping some tears away and start looking at old pictures of Pierre and me when we were together for two years that were in a photo album that my mom gave to me after he left me. The first picture was taken on our first date when we went on a picnic at Central Park in New York City when it was warm outside but then it started to rain so we had to grab our stuff quickly and ran towards the street where we took a cab home since it was getting cold out . The second picture was taken on Valentine's Day last year where we went to an expensive restaurant for dinner then later walked around town a bit before heading back home.

Photos that remembered our good old days where we were so happy together, even though there were some days where things didnt seem right between us which happens sometimes between couples, not all days are perfect or happy days but what matters is how you make them right or happy again after feeling upset, unhappy or angry towards each other which is what we used to do when there were problems between us until Pierre broke up with over something so stupid that could have been fixed if only hed listen to me instead of running away, making me hate myself because I thought nothing was wrong between us at first thinking everything was fine like usual but then things started changing slowly over time which made my heart ache more knowing that id never be able to see him again.

I wasnt aware that Pierre was feeling miserable about us because I never gave him a chance to tell me what was wrong thinking he would just be able to talk to me about it at any second if something was wrong when usually we had no secrets between us but then he told me everything in a letter after breaking up with me explaining why he broke up with me and how unhappy he felt thinking I didnt care about him anymore since I was never home, that we stopped communicating like we used to because things got difficult between us over time.

But Pierre made the biggest mistake of his life by breaking up with me because he thought Id get over him easily which is far from it instead of getting over him id lost interest in guys since hes the only one I ever loved and dating someone else would feel weird knowing they are not Pierre, its been months without hearing from each other and without telling anyone about my breakup. If youre wondering how Im feeling now or how's my life going then I'm fine for now Im working on not thinking about Pierre every 5 minutes but its pretty hard considering how much Id loved him, how close we were and all the great times we had together as friends before dating and as couple.

-Maman, je ne veux pas aller demain, il sera là, je vais pleurer ou le tuer quand je le verrai (mum, i don't want to go tomorrow, he is gonna be there, i will cry or kill him)- I plead my mum, who came to visit me.

-Caroline Éve-Marie Leclerc, lève-toi maintenant même (get up now)- she forces me and I don't have another option than oblie her.

When we arrived to the Gasly's home, the one I had been so many times before in my childhood, I see my 2 older brothers and my twin brother alongside their girlfirends.

-Carla, I missed you- I hug my twin's girlfriend who I couldn't see for months.

-Allons tous à l'intérieur ils nous attendent (let's go in, they are waiting for us) - my mum says and we follow her.

When we enter to the house, I see him with a beautiful girl. -Oups désolée je ne savais pas que vous seriez là (oops, i'm sorry i didn't know you were going to be here) -says his girl who looks so many times like any model he was before I was with him- Well, I didn't know you would be here too -he retorts. We were about to start with this argument when my mum comes and says: -Arrêtez de faire l'idiot, tous les deux, c'est Noël après tout! (stop doing the idiot the 2 of you, its Christmas)- We shut up and go sit down at the table where the dinner was ready.

After eating and chatting for a while we started playing some games. I was playing Monopoly with my brothers and their girlfirends while my ex was flirting with that girl. I tried not to care but inside I felt hurt because he had chosen her over me even though I had been the one who loved him so much. When it got late, we all went to sleep in our rooms. The next morning, I woke up early and went downstairs to get something to eat. When I got there, I saw my ex and that girl kissing under the mistletoe. I couldn't help but feel jealous and hurt all over again. I went back upstairs and cried myself to sleep.

I enter into my brother room, he was there still in bed while his girlfriend was showering.

-Artie, why does it hurts so much, I hate him- I start crying. -It hurts because you still have feelings for him, after everything he did to you. You need to move on and stop thinking about him- he said. I nodded my head and went back to my room. I get ready, and I go down to see his mum and mine chatting and I decide to join them.

-Oh Carol, how pretty are you- his mum, Pascale tells me while sehe gets up to hug me- Do you want to make some Christmas cookies like we did when you were petitte?(little) -I would love to!- I say with a smile. After we made the cookies, we sat down and talked for a while. His mum told me that she was sorry for what happened between us and that she hoped we could be friends again. I told her that I forgave her and that I missed her too. Then there he was entering the kitchen kissing his girlfriend like a horny teenager. It hurted so much, his mum realised and hugged me.

-What are you doing?- the girl asks- Some cookies- i explain her trying not to be rude. He barely looked at me and i could see in his eyes that he still loved me. I wanted to leave but his mum insisted on us spending Christmas together like we used to.

Once they leave the kitchen, his mum made my sit with her. We talked a little bit before going to sleep and she told me that i should give him another chance because he was really miserable without me. I didn’t want to do that so i refused but she kept insisting. Later that night, he came over to my room and kissed me. I immediately pushed him away and told him that we were not together anymore. He screamed at me and left the room in a hurry. Next day, he didn’t even look at me and ignored my texts. I was devastated and his mother was mad at him for doing that. it killed me inside, like if i just ruined Christmas for them all. They never mentioned it again after that but i could tell they felt bad about it.

My brothers were there to support me along the way, and his mum was there too. She was angry at his son to doing that to me and she speek to him barely during the holidays. it wasn’t the best Christmas after all due to this. With all of it said, I still miss him and care about him.

Don't be a ghost even we are in halloween :)) Reblog, like or something <3

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly angst #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 drivers x reader

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ttuesday · 2 years ago

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Hiiii! May i request how would the fellers comfort or react to their fem s/o who had a nightmare that he died and couldn’t save him.

Arthur

Hearing you whimper in your sleep, Arthur slowly wakes up. At first he’s confused, still groggy from his sleep but as soon as he looks over at you and notices your scared expression, he shakes you awake, albeit a bit too harsh but he’s panicked and doesn’t want you trapped in a nightmare.

He holds you close as you come to your senses, reminding you it’s just a nightmare and that none of it was real but when you properly wake up and tell him what the nightmare was about, Arthur’s hold on you tightens and he assures you he’s completely fine and safe.

Rubbing your back, Arthur listens intently as you tell him more. However, whenever you bring up the part where he died, Arthur tries to downplay it, asking if your brain seriously doesn’t think he’d be able to handle getting out of whatever situation he found himself in. He only does it to try and calm you, hoping if he acts like this isn’t a big deal then you won’t dwell on it.

Charles

The second you wake Charles and he sees the frightened look on your face, he feels a pit in his stomach, immediately beckoning you to cuddle into him as he asks you what’s wrong.

Once you tell him about your nightmare, Charles speaks clearly and concisely, reassuring you that it’s ok, he’s alive and that you’re both safe together in bed.

He gently pulls you close to his chest, running his hand up and down your back as you listen to his steady heartbeat. Charles continues to soothe you until you fall back to sleep, playing with strands of your hair and repeating positive affirmations until you feel all is safe once again.

Dutch

After waking Dutch, it takes him a few seconds to fully comprehend what’s going on but he soon adjusts to the situation, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed to give you as much room as possible while you briefly fill him in on the nightmare. While you get your bearings he doesn’t want to overcrowd you and instead saves the cuddles for later.

Dutch usually keeps a glass of water near him anyways at night in case he feels parched so he’s quick to give it to you in the hopes that’ll help you calm down while also keeping you hydrated.

Once you tell him everything, he lays down with you in the bed and positions you so your head is resting against his chest. Dutch likes keeping you close whenever you’re feeling like this, playing with your hair as he encourages you to forget all about that nightmare.

Micah

Micah doesn’t sleep much, already awake as you restlessly shift in your sleep, mumbling to yourself. After hearing your subtle whimpers for a few minutes, Micah supposes he better wake you up himself and see what the problem is.

He’s taken aback as you wake with a jolt, your heart pounding from the nightmare. Micah understands how stressful nightmares can be, so he actually listens and pays attention as you recount your dream. Feeling very cocky that you’re this upset at the thoughts of him dying, Micah assures you he’s fine with just a touch of smugness in his voice.

He sits with you for the rest of the night, wrapping his coat around you and leaving you rest against him. Micah doesn’t mind if you doze off again but he stays awake, wanting to be vigilant in case you have another nightmare.

John

Your soft cries in your sleep wake John. He’s alert but discombobulated and honestly, he’s still half asleep but nonetheless he’s determined to help. I’ll be real with you, when you’re telling him about your nightmare, the words go in one ear and out the other. John’s way too tired to properly comprehend what you’re saying but all he knows is that these words are making you upset.

He tries to comfort you, suppressing his yawns as he holds your hand and wipes any stray tears away for you. No matter how tired he is, seeing you cry really tugs on his heartstrings and unleashes a need to make you feel better.

Sitting with you between his legs, John keeps his arms wrapped loosely around you as you nuzzle in by his chest. He keeps repeating “I’m right here” as you both slowly drift back to sleep

Javier

After waking up and telling him about your nightmare, Javier gives you a pep talk. Keeping both of his hands on your arms, he tells you about how strong you are and that you can take on any twisted nightmare your brain can conjure up, promising you that he’ll be there for you and that you’re safe here with him.

He’s very understanding about this. Javier’s been in similar situations but when he woke up, he didn’t have anyone beside him so he does everything he wishes someone did for him, giving you the comfort he didn’t get back then.

Even though it’s the middle of the night, Javier decides to get up with you. He doesn’t see the point in laying there in bed, trying to get back to sleep while the memories of your dream haunt you. Stoking the embers of the campfire as he makes you a warm drink, you both admire the stars in the hopes that’ll take your mind off of your nightmare.

Bill

Bill knows he can seem pretty lazy at times but the second you tell him you had a nightmare, Bill is there for you in an instant. He goes through periods of having numerous nightmares from his past so he knows how badly they can impact a person.

He’ll let you say whatever you need to, not prying or asking any questions about your nightmare. The last thing Bill wants to do is push any boundaries or accidentally makes things worse by asking the wrong question. If you still feel overwhelmed after telling him, Bill will let you cry into his chest if you need to, saying he’s right here and not dead yet.

He’s more affectionate the morning after too, bringing you a hot drink while you’re still in bed and asking if you wanna go out and spend the day exploring rather than laying around camp. Bill hopes if y’all do something exciting then that’ll distract you from the nightmare.

Sean

When you first wake Sean up, he’s frazzled, on high alert and ready to jump into action. And when he sees the troubled look on your face, he’s even more worried, basically scrambling out of the bed and ready to attack whatever upset you.

But as you explain it’s a nightmare that’s made you so upset, he calms down slightly and waits for you to tell him about it. As you describe everything that happened, Sean tries to make little jokes or give over the top reactions in the hopes that’ll help put you at ease and lighten the mood.

He tries to downplay the turmoil of your nightmare in the hopes it won’t effect you as much, assuring you he’d be able to fight off whatever got him in your nightmare and promising you that he isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. When you finally settle down to sleep again, Sean shimmies next to you and protectively wraps his arms around you.

Hosea

Hosea’s a light sleeper and so he easily wakes up as you toss and turn in the bed. He’s helped some of the others get through nightmares in their youths so he knows what’s happening, slowly nudging you awake and asking if you’re ok.

Hosea doesn’t force you to talk about it and has no problem if you would prefer to stay quiet as he comforts you, giving you more of the blanket and an extra pillow to make sure you’re snug.

As you begin to relax and fall back to sleep, Hosea stays up for a little while, watching your breathing as he makes sure you stay relaxed. He knows tomorrow you’ll tell him more about the nightmare when you’re ready but for now he stays beside you and plans out what he’ll cook you for breakfast.

Trelawny

Trelawny wakes up abruptly, startled by your upset expression as you prod him awake. He’s wide awake within seconds and quickly gets to work, trying to figure out what’s wrong and how to fix it. Whenever you’re upset, Trelawny wastes no time in comforting you.

As you tell him about your nightmare, Trelawny hangs on every word you say and asks you to describe every detail in depth. His reasoning is that if he knows everything about your nightmare then he can point out all of its plot holes in an attempt to prove to you there’s no way that could ever happen in reality.

He also hopes that if he proves your nightmare is bizarre then you may feel more at ease and assured none of it will actually happen. As you eventually drift back to sleep thanks to Josiah’s incessant but soothing ramblings, Trelawny stays awake, wanting to make sure you sleep peacefully and don’t fall back into the nightmare.

Kieran

When Kieran wakes to hear you muttering under your breath with your brow creased, he can tell you’re stressed and gently rocks you awake, being as tender as possible. He gets a shock when you wake, upset from your nightmare but he swiftly tries to comfort you in any way possible.

He’s way more concerned with trying to calm you at first than trying to understand what the nightmare was about but as you tell him little snippets of your dream, focusing on how you couldn’t save him, Kieran’s even softer with you (if that’s even possible).

He’s strangely honoured at how much you care about him, leaving you vent about the nightmare for as long as you need. Kieran holds you close for the rest of the night, promising nothing bad will ever happen to him as you drift back to sleep.

Lenny

Lenny’s a little groggy when you first wake him but he’s quick to get his bearings, alarmed by how distraught you are. His voice slightly croaky, Lenny asks how you are and if you’re hurt. Once you say you had a nightmare, Lenny goes straight into caring mode.

He knows how upsetting nightmares can be and he holds you tightly, kissing your temple as he reminds you that everything is ok and that none of it was real. When you slowly start to telling him that it was about him, Lenny cups your face and tells you he’s right here, safe and sound with you.

He doesn’t mind being more affectionate with you for the next few days, staying around camp and not going on any big jobs. Even if you don’t admit it, Lenny knows how much you worry and he hates the idea of you stressing out that he might die on a job because of your dream… besides, he’d rather be cuddling with you than going out robbing.

#ok so I had a bit of wine to celebrate friday so I'll be real idk if the grammar in this is all ok #but like yeah you get it #yo at this point y'all know what I'm trying to say #our brains be interlinked like that #ok ok ok #writings #headcanons #arthur morgan #charles smith #dutch van der linde #micah bell #john marston #javier escuella #bill williamson #sean macguire #hosea matthews #josiah trelawny #kieran duffy #lenny summers

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lifewouldbebetteronmars · 2 years ago

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Somewhat based on this post

Summer of Angst Masterlist

Title from It’s Quiet Uptown from Hamilton

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I Could Trade His Life For Mine

Three days ago, things were different.

Three days ago, Sophie was a mother to three children. Two beautiful little girls and the baby in her belly.

Three days ago, Gideon was telling everyone how excited he was to become a father for the third time.

Three days ago, they were happy. Everyone in the Lightwood home was happy.

But three days ago, something changed.

Sophie went into labor in the middle of afternoon, while simply drinking her tea. Something had been wrong, she’d known it right away.

It was too early, she wasn’t due for almost two more months.

And when her water had broken, it wasn’t water, it was blood. Strikingly bright against the lightly patterned carpet.

Something was wrong.

She labored for nearly two days, forty hours in total. The whole experience longer and more painful than she had felt before with Barbara and Eugenia.

The girls had been sent to stay with Henry and Charlotte, as Gabriel and Cecily had been busy enough to little Anna, who’d recently begun teething. And Charles was closer in age to the girls anyway.

It was by the twelfth hour that Gideon demanded she be transferred to the Silent City, fearful for her life and that of the babe in her belly. But the Silent Brothers refused, citing the reason to be it was too dangerous to move her now.

So Sophie had watched as Gideon stewed in his own worry from his place beside her. He had desperately tried to hide it from her, but she knew it was there.

But as she said, that was three days ago.

And after those forty long hours, a baby was finally born. A baby boy, small and blue.

He didn’t cry or scream as he came into the world, having already been dead long before he was born.

The heartbreak of that was hard to voice, to give birth to a dead baby.

Especially since she wasn’t even close to being finished.

It was barely ten minutes after the first baby that the midwife told her there was another one coming. Another baby boy.

He was small too, but not blue like his brother was. He too, didn’t cry, at least, not at first. It took him a minute but he cried and cried, proudly showcasing his small lung capacity with small squeaky cries.

Sophie and Gideon cried when their son was placed on her chest, whether it was from the relief of him breathing or from the grief of their lost boy, she didn’t know.

They named him Thomas, after her dear friend Thomas Tanner, who had died protecting the London Institute. It felt fitting to name their son after a fighter, since he would have a long fight ahead of him.

Which brings us to now, three days later. They had been brought to the Silent City shortly after Thomas’s birth, the three of them-Sophie, Gideon, and Thomas of course.

She didn’t know what had become of her other son, the one she called Philip in her head. She his body would be held in the Silent City, for a proper funeral later on. She hoped it wouldn’t become a double, but with how Thomas looked, she couldn’t be very hopeful.

He was a tiny little thing, with a head full of sandy colored hair-just like Gideon’s-and skin that was all but translucent. The short, shaky breaths her son emitted made Sophie want to break down into tears.

The Silent Brothers were doing everything they could to help him survive, but they didn’t give much hope to the parents, telling them to prepare for the worst.

Didn’t they know that the worst had already happened?

She was now content to sit here and watch every breath her son took, desperately praying that each one wouldn’t be his last.

Sophie jumped and tensed when a hand came to rest on her shoulder, only relaxing when she saw it was only her husband. Gideon was looking worse for wear, the bags under his eyes making the green in them pop brightly and contrast against his nearly-white pallor. He hadn’t slept since she’d gone into labor, maybe even before that. He’d been so stressed out lately, she had noticed; but had chalked it up to late night patrols or the fact that they had two children under the age of five.

But now she could see that the stress had been a combination of the two, coupled with the difficult pregnancy.

The stress now made worse by the loss of the Philip and the possibility of losing Thomas as well.

“Do you think he’ll make it?” she whispered to her husband, eyes still focused on their tiny son.

Sophie could hear Gideon swallow audibly from behind her, a nervous tick of his. “I think we should have faith in the Angel and in the Silent Brothers.”

“What if faith is not enough?”

“Then I don’t know, sweetheart. I really don’t know.”

They wasn’t meant to be cynical, Gideon’s words. He was merely speaking the truth, there wasn’t much they could do for Thomas besides sit and wait.

All Sophie knew is that she couldn’t lose another baby. It would break her.

“I can’t lose another, Gideon. I can’t.”

“I know.”

She couldn’t lose another Thomas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before I go, I shall leave you all with another Boo meme:

#the infernal devices #the last hours #sophie lightwood #gideon lightwood #thomas lightwood #mentioned barbara and eugenia lightwood #tw premature baby #tw premature birth #tw infant death #tw stillbirth

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safetycar-restart · 2 years ago

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after you reblogged that photo of piarles, all i can think of is pierre hopelessly trying to comfort charles and make him feel better after the race, but charles just doesn't budge. he needs you. he needs his mommy to comfort him. he needs mommy's touch, her kisses and her hugs, her hair ruffles and the way she baby talks to him.

so they get home, and as soon as they walk through the door, charles drops his things, and as he notices you in the kitchen he just runs over to you and hugs you so tight, letting his tears fall. he's a sensitive little bunny, and you don't mind it one bit. you hug him back, kissing the top of his head as you whisper comforting words into his ear, and you turn your gaze to pierre, who's standing at the doorway with a gaze of guilt, because he couldn't comfort charles.

you signal pierre to join your hug, not wanting your pretty flower to be or feel left out. so he does, and he feels so relieved. as does charles, once he feels pierre's arm around him. charles lifts his head, and gives pierre a kiss on the cheek, as if he was saying "it's okay, don't be sad, i'm okay now," and it just warms your and pierre's hearts. charles is just such a sweet little bunny, always caring for the people he loves. charles then turns to you, kissing your shoulder and then leaning his head on it, and you do so too.

you run your hand up and down both charles' back and pierre's back. you tell them you should move to the bedroom, as it's getting late and they should get some rest, and you end up in the middle, sandwiched between two of your favorite boys <3.

- 📓

God this is so sad but so fucking perfect 📓 anon you're absolutely brilliant.

Pierre runs to Charles the moment he's free of media duties, and he already knows he wont be comfort Charles. By now he knows that sometimes, there's just nothing he can do, nothing anyone except you can do.

But he runs to Charles anyway. Because even though he cant make Charles feel better, there's no way he's going to leave Charles alone.

He still tries of course, but it never works.

Charles is silent the whole plane trip home. He doesnt even respond when Pierre offers to watch one of those ridiculous reality tv shows that he hates but Charles loves with him. But Charles just stares out the window.

Poor Charles, meanwhile, is absolutely falling apart. He knows Pierre is trying to help, knows that he should be grateful for Pierre's support and love, and he is, really he is.

But he can't be grateful right now, not when his hopes and dreams are turning to ash in his hands and you're not here.

Pierre just stays with him, holds his hand and offers him reassuring words and reminds him that they'll be with you soon, that Charles will get what he needs soon.

The moment he gets home, he runs straight into your arms, doesnt even close the door behind him.

You're waiting for him, of course. You knew this would happen, and Pierre had been texting you the entire time, telling you he wishes you were there, wishes he could comfort Charles, wishes Charles would smile.

Charles just needs comfort and love. He doesnt want false promises or advice. He just wants to be held and kissed and feel your hands in his hair, be reminded that you will never leave him, that no matter what happened, he would always have you.

Charles is okay again the moment he's in your arms.

Because then he knows you'll take care of him. He just has to mumble "mommy" against your neck and then you'll have him.

He starts crying when Pierre joins the hug, hugging him from behind and sheltering him from the world. He's safe here now, he has the only two people he knows he will always look after him, will never let him down.

He cries for a little while, hugging you tight, feeling Pierre kiss his neck.

Then, once he's done crying, he'll turn in your hold so that he's facing Pierre and kiss Pierre's cheeks. Each cheek gets two kisses and then he gives Pierre a peck on the lips.

It's as much a reminder that he's okay now as it is a thank you for getting him to you.

Pierre brings him into a deeper kiss, reaching his hand out to wrap it around your shoulders and keep you close.

And of course they get loads of cuddles afterwards. I think Charles would want to go to bed almost instantly. He finally feels safe again, so he just wants to sleep now.

You and Pierre aren't tired, but you both go to bed with him anyway. You're in the middle, Charles snuggled into your side while Pierre sits against the headboard. You and Pierre speak softly to each other, Charles falls asleep to the sounds of your voices.

(Sidenote: I think with the triple header and Ferrari being Ferrari, I think Charles might beg you to come with? Like, you weren't supposed to come with to the races for this triple header, but he begs you to work remotely and come with them, because he just cant do a race like that again a few days later without you there)

#poly!piarles #pg #cl #gn!reader #📓

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babybluebex · 4 years ago

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retribution pt.1 [charles blackwood smut]

➽ pairing: dark!stepfather!charles blackwood x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.9k ➽ summary: after charles marries your mother to gain a massive fortune, he realizes that he married the wrong woman, and he sets his sights on the real heiress: you. ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. explicit language, smut, thigh-riding, oral (f!receiving), power dynamics, step!cest, masturbation, yandere/obession (i think??), daddy kink, breeding kink, slapping, mentions of murder/suicide ➽ a/n: i know that is different than what i usually post, but charles blackwood just... hmmm he grinds my gears in the best way. so, enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio (and the sequel will be soon!)

From the very moment you laid eyes on Charles Blackwood, you loathed him. There was something about him physically that turned you off of him. Maybe it was the way his hair was just too perfectly done, the caramel highlights too pretty to be natural. Maybe it was the way his cologne filled your head, dark and lovely, but too masculine, like he was making up for something. Or maybe it was the smile that graced his pink and pouty lips when your mother introduced him to you as her husband.

It had hardly been a year since your father had passed, and you had no idea just how your mother could move on as quickly as she did. It had torn you up in a way that nothing else quite had. You had always been closer to your father than your mother and, when he got sick, you were left to bear the weight of what was happening. You went to visit him at the hospital alone and sat with him and read to him, and you held his hand as the nurses carefully turned off his machines. You guess that it was worth it, though; you found out that your father had altered his will and now, instead of his money being left to your mother, it was left to you. The only condition was that you had to get married to receive the money, going back to a conversation many years ago where your father tried to convince you not to go to university, telling you that the life of a wife and a mother would suit you better. You said that you would think about it.

“You’re not my dad,” you told Charles Blackwood. You expected him to be cross or maybe even hurt by your insistence upon that, but he smirked, as if he had expected that sort of answer. “I’m not gonna call you that.”

“Aw, that’s alright, honey,” Charles said, and he pressed his hand to your mother’s shoulder to stop her from scolding you. “I didn’t think you would. That’s awful, what happened to him. I’m really sorry about that.”

So casual, the way he talked about your father’s death. As if it was nothing more to you than a bad exam grade. You cried that night, locked up in your room, wanting Charles gone already. He was in the kitchen when you went in in the morning, sitting at the table, reading the newspaper, and whistling. He had the glow of a recently-spent man about him, and you internally sneered at the thought of him fucking your mother. “Hey, you,” he said, putting the paper down. “Let’s have a talk, huh?”

You glared at him, but sat down at the table all the same. You dug your thumbs into your orange and raised your eyebrows expectantly at him, and Charles pursed his lips. “I want you to know something,” he said. “I love your mom, right? And I have no interest in being your new dad or whatever. But I expect you to treat me with a little bit of respect, not any of… This.” He waved his finger at you, obviously talking about your current abhorrent pose. “I may not be your dad, but I’m still paying the bills and paying for you to go to university. So you’re gonna treat me like you fucking worship the ground I walk on. Got it, honey?”

“And what do I get outta this?” you grumbled.

“You get to keep living here,” Charles said. “You still get all that money that your father left your mother when he died. I don’t see what else you need.”

You scoffed. “Right,” you whispered. “‘Cause you only care about money. Well, Chuck, that’s fucking hysterical, that you think I’m even remotely like you. I can see past dollar signs and see what people are actually about. Anyway, I could care less about your money. I’ve got my own.”

“Doing what?” Charles asked with a dismissive laugh. “Waitressing?”

“You wish,” you sneered. “Mother didn’t get any money from Father.”

“All that money?” Charles asked slowly. “Where the hell did it go?”

“Into my trust fund,” you said highly, and you watched Charles’s blue eyes widen. “I have every cent of my father’s. All I have to do is get married, and me and my husband can fuck off, away from you.”

Charles stuttered for a moment, then said, “Let me get this straight. Your father left every red dime to his kid and not his wife? And you can only access it if you get married?”

“I told him that I wasn’t getting married,” you explained. “This is his twisted way of guaranteeing that I tie the knot at some point; soon, I guess. But congratulations, Chuck. Welcome to the family.”

As you stood up from your place, Charles’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, and you yelped. His grip was strong, veins in his hand exposing themselves, and his jaw was set with a rising anger. You could see the red flush in his chest and neck, and, as pleased as you wished you were, you were frightened by him. Your father had never grabbed you like that before. Nobody had. “What did I say about a little goddamn respect?” Charles asked through gnashed teeth, and he twisted his hand, pulling your skin and making you cry out in pain. “You don’t call me Chuck. You call me Charles, or Father, or fucking nothing.”

“Let go of me, you fucking bastard,” you hissed.

Charles’s face was red now, and he lashed out and struck you across the cheek. Before you even had time to cry out, he had you by the chin, forcing you to look at him. “Go to your room,” he told you. “Next time I see you, if this fucking attitude isn’t fixed, you’re gonna be really sorry. You hearing me, honey?”

You nodded, using every ounce of your self control to not burst into tears on the spot. You cursed him in your head, wishing for him to leave you and your mother alone. You wanted him gone, maybe even dead. Certainly nowhere near you or your mother anymore. Charles stared at you, watching you, making sure of your compliance, then he let go of your face and tugged you close to his body by your wrist. Confusion overtook you as he hugged you, but then it made sense when you heard the floorboard in the hallway creak. “I know you miss him,” Charles said, quiet but certainly loud enough for your mother to hear from the hallway. “And I can’t be him, but I’ll try my best. Alright, honey?”

He sent a quick pinch to your tender wrist, and you finally let out your caged sobs. “Hey, hey,” Charles said, shushing you in what could be mistaken for comfort. “No need for crying, little one. I’m here for you.”

When you finally tore yourself from Charles, he looked happy. The anger was gone from his face, and he smiled at you. “‘Morning, lovely,” he said to your mother, and he stepped around you to embrace your mother and kiss her cheek.

“What’s going on?” your mother asked, looking at you worriedly.

“Having a little heart-to-heart,” Charles said softly. “Said she missed her father, and I told her that I’ll try my hardest to be there for her.”

“Aw,” your mother cooed and placed a kiss on Charles’s lying lips. “You’re too good to us.”

That conversation seemed to change something between you and Charles. He was still an asshole when your mother wasn’t looking, but you knew not to tell her. She wouldn’t believe it, and it would inevitably just mean more trouble for you. However, there was suddenly something more with Charles. He seemed charming, as always, but you sensed something sinister underneath it. You knew that he was only after your father’s money, and he was now stuck with your mother when it was you who had all the money. You knew that he was mad at marrying the wrong woman, but he couldn’t do anything about it now, and the thought that your presence vexed him as much as he did you pleased you.

Except, as you found out one night, Charles still could do something.

It was still dark outside your window when you heard your bedroom door creak open. You liked to sleep with it closed, and you brushed it off as the house shifting as it settled. Your clock said that it was five in the morning, and you nearly got up to close your door back, but you smelled him first. Fresh from his morning shower, cologne still potent, Charles lingered in the doorway to your room before stepping in. You squinted your eyes to try to see what Charles was doing, but still trying to act asleep, and you watched him cross to your dresser, across from your bed. He carefully opened drawer after drawer, obviously hunting for something specific, and your heart dropped when he crouched to the bottom drawer and his hands came up to brush back his hair.

Your heart burned with hate and disgust as you watched your mother’s husband, your stepfather, pull out a pair of your panties. You had done laundry just two days earlier and hadn’t worn them yet, and you watched as Charles pressed the bundle of cotton to his face. After a moment, he stood up, your panties in his fist, and you quickly closed your eyes to feign sleep as Charles approached the bed. You felt his presence right by your face, felt his eyes watching you as you slept, and he whispered, “Fuck, little one...”. Then, you heard the zipper on his pants. Through your eyelashes, you watched Charles press his half-hard cock into his fist and begin to stroke himself, rubbing himself with your panties. He slotted his bottom lip between his teeth as he masturbated, watching you as you “slept”. “So fuckin’ pretty… Gonna be mine.”

You tasted acidic hate in your mouth, but you couldn’t make yourself confront him. To your knowledge, nobody had ever masturbated to the thought of you before. There was a tiny part of you that liked that Charles was so hung up on you, even if the dominating part of your brain told you how sick it was. Anyway, you hardly wanted to interrupt him and stop an orgasm and give him yet another reason to hate you.

Charles’s cheeks went red in the dim light of the room as his fist moved faster. Your panties were bunched around his cock, flushed and nestled there like it belonged, and you closed your eyes fully. You didn’t want to see him come. You didn’t want to know what he looked like. You moved slightly, adjusting your legs under the blankets, and Charles let out a quiet little grunt. “One day…” he mumbled to himself. “Gonna be mine… All that’s gonna be mine.”

His breath caught in his throat, and you heard the wet squelch as his cum coated your panties. Charles stood for a moment, watching you, feeling his cock soften in his hand, and he finally sniffed and stuffed the used panties into his pocket. He tilted his head as he continued to examine you and the way you gave little noises as you slept, and he smiled. Oh yes, he thought as he brushed a bit of hair from your cheek. You would make a good wife.

Later that day, you were absently wandering around the house. It was too hot to do anything outside comfortably, but you definitely didn’t want to be around Charles or your mother for the moment. Even though you hadn’t seen anything that Charles had done, his grunts and hisses were enough for you to know that he enjoyed his time in your room that morning. You had yet to find your panties, and your stomach roiled when you wondered if he still had them in his pocket.

Your stepfather called your name from across the house, and your heart dropped. As you made your way to his office, you decided to play with him in the worst way possible. If he was going to haunt you and make you miserable, you were going to do just the same. Charles was leaned back in his desk chair when you got there, smoking from his pipe. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his gelled hair coming a bit undone. He looked stressed, and perhaps a little anxious. “Yes?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe.

“What are you doing tonight?” Charles asked, blowing out a mouthful of thick smoke.

You shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose,” you said. “Why?”

“I wanted to take you to dinner,” Charles said. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I would like to make it up to you, if I can. I… I truly apologize for hitting you. I have a short temper, see, and I’m trying to be better about it.” His lips were pursed, his eyes trained on you.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that his apology was genuine. But he needed you on his good side in order to get your fortune. He was buttering you up. You sighed. “That’s alright,” you said. “Umm… I’d like that, I think. Would Mother be coming as well?”

“No, little one,” Charles said, and you remembered how he had called you that as he pleasured himself into your panties. “Just us. A father-daughter dinner.”

“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Would you be angry if I called you Father? I just think…” You trailed off and pretended to be ashamed as you played with the sleeve of your dress. “Maybe it would help me adjust.”

“Not at all, honey,” Charles replied. “Anything to make you comfortable.”

You gave him the smallest smile, and you approached his seat. “I should have greeted you with a bit more open-mindedness,” you mused. “I was being childish. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, because I… I just want you to like me, Father.”

“Aw, honey, I do like you,” Charles said, tilting his head. “You’re already forgiven.”

Your smile grew, and you leaned over to give Charles a tight hug. You could smell his strong cologne as you embraced him, and you made sure to give a soft little moan in his ear. “Oh, Father!” you started. “I can’t seem to find some of my clothes. Would you happen to know where they might have gone? Mother’s always on about donating unused things.”

“I have no idea, little one,” Charles said, and you straightened up. “What exactly are you missing?”

“Just a few sweaters,” you said, tracing the etching on the desk. “A skirt or two… A pair of panties with daises on them.” You gave a little laugh, and added, “They were my lucky pair and I just… Never mind, that’s embarrassing.”

“No, I mean,” Charles began, and he shifted in his chair. Your words had done exactly what you had hoped; he was suspicious and uncomfortable. “If it means a lot to you. How exactly are they lucky, might I ask?”

You laughed quietly. “Oh, Father, I couldn’t possibly tell you,” you giggled. “It’s not the sort of things girls talk about with their parents.”

“C’mon,” Charles smiled, reaching forward and playfully tickling your side. “If you don’t tell me, then I’ll assume the worst.”

In truth, the panties meant nothing to you. You couldn’t even remember when or where you had gotten them. But if it made Charles uncomfortable, then you would stretch the truth however far you needed to. You bit your bottom lip and giggled, and you said, “Fine, fine. I wore them the night I almost lost my virginity, and I… I just feel good wearing them.”

Charles straightened in his chair, setting his pipe aside. “You’re not a virgin?” he asked.

“I said ‘almost’, Father,” you whispered. “I still am.”

“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” Charles told you. His hands went to your waist and tugged you closer to him, and he carefully parted your legs with his knee. “Are you waiting for marriage?”

You shrugged. “Or whatever,” you said. “I wanted to do it, but I just… He wasn’t my type.”

“And what is your type, honey?” Charles asked.

Your stomach was curling with disgust, but you kept up the ruse. “I don’t know,” you whispered. With a sigh, you settled yourself on Charles’s thigh, playing with the collar of his shirt. “Just, someone who knows what they’re doing, I guess. Who can make me feel good without making mistakes. Older, I suppose.”

“What else?” Charles asked. His thumb brushed against your hip bone, and you shivered when you felt your walls flutter. You couldn’t possibly be turned on by playing this sick game with your stepfather, could you?

“I like dark hair,” you said softly. “Tall. Nice eyes.”

“So…” Charles began and gave you a satisfied grin, one like a wolf who had cornered his prey. “Me.”

“Oh, God,” you whispered. “I-I guess, when you put it that way--”

“It’s alright, little one,” Charles said softly, and he leaned forward and kissed each of your cheeks. “It’s alright if you’ve got a little crush on me. Tell me, honey: have you ever been touched before?”

“Yes,” you replied with a fake meekness. He seemed to like the more innocent side of you.

“Yes…?”

You swallowed down disgust, disguising it as nerves. “Yes, Father.”

“Good girl,” Charles whispered. “How have you been touched?”

“A boy put his fingers in me,” you told Charles, avoiding his eyes. “And his mouth on me.”

“Where on you?” Charles pressed on. His hand slipped down to your bare legs and let his fingers linger on the soft skin of your inner thigh.

“Father,” you mumbled. “I can’t say it.”

“Show me,” Charles demanded, his face suddenly stony. “Put your hand where that kid had his fucking mouth.”

You let your hand rest on top of Charles’s, and you lifted it to your breast first. “Here--”

“Over your dress?” Charles laughed.

“N-No,” you laughed softly. You bit your lip as you guided his hand down the neck of your dress, and you shuddered at his warm palm on your soft nipple. Your cunt fluttered again, and you fully blushed when you realized that Charles had certainly felt it against his tense thigh. “Here,” you whispered, and you found yourself letting out a quiet moan as Charles groped at your breast. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying this. No, this was supposed to be torture for him.

“You like when I touch your tit like this, honey?” Charles asked, and you nodded quickly. “So good for your father, little one. Where else?”

You took his wrist and pulled his hand up to your mouth, and you placed a gentle kiss to his fingertips. “He kissed me,” you said.

“Did you like it?” Charles asked. He pressed his thumb to your bottom lip, and you took it into your mouth as Charles watched greedily.

You shook your head, and Charles pulled his thumb from your mouth. “What did he do wrong?” he asked softly.

“Nothing,” you whispered. “I just didn’t like him, I suppose.”

“Do you usually fuck guys you don’t like?” Charles asked.

“I didn’t fuck him, Father!” you said quickly. “I-I stopped it. Remember?”

“Oh, right,” Charles said in a hushed tone. “Saving yourself for the right person, who just so happens to have every quality that I possess. Is that right?”

“Father,” you groaned, leaning forward to press your forehead against his shoulder. For some reason, you didn’t entirely mind the smell of his cologne anymore. You didn’t mind his perfect hair. You didn’t even mind the wolfish smile that overtook his pink pout.

“Where else was that boy’s mouth?” Charles whispered. “Did he put it anywhere else? Or just on your pretty little mouth and tit?”

As you grabbed his hand, you realized that there was absolutely no going back. Your plan was set in motion and there was no way to stop it. You took a deep breath to prepare yourself, and you slowly took his hand down your body. You carefully lifted your dress and settled his hand over your cunt, and you shuddered at the warmth of his palm. His fingers were against your hole, the heel of his hand pressed to your clit, and you watched him lick his lips. “You naughty little thing,” Charles chuckled. “You let him put his mouth on your pussy?”

“I didn’t like it,” you told him quickly. “I didn’t like him.”

“Honey, I’m gonna ask you this once,” Charles whispered, pressing his hand fully against you. Even through the thin layer of your panties, you could feel every inch of his hand, and you bit your lip and tried to control your hips from bucking into his palm. Amongst other things, you were sure that you would get in trouble for it. “Do you want me to fuck you? I can show you how good you’re supposed to feel, little one, you’ll love me for it.”

You nodded quickly, but yelped when his free hand landed a smack on your ass. It truly hurt, and you whimpered when his hand stayed on your ass and squeezed. “Use your words, honey,” Charles said. “As much as I like the little dumb whore act, I wanna hear you beg for it.”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “Yes, Charles, please. Please, Daddy, please fuck me.”

“Ooh, Daddy,” Charles purred. “I like the sound of that, baby. Stand up and take off your panties, sweetheart.”

You did as he told you, shivering when the cool air hit your wet cunt, and Charles tugged you back down onto his thick thigh. The roughness of his pants made you whimper louder, and he sent a slap to your cheek. It wasn’t hard and didn’t even hurt, but you gasped all the same. “Keep your fucking cock-hole shut,” Charles hissed. “You want your mother to hear you fucking yourself on my leg?”

“N-No, Daddy,” you whined.

“Good girl,” Charles whispered. “Show me how badly you want me.”

“Huh?”

Charles took fistfuls of your dress and tugged it downwards, letting your tits escape. “I said, show me how badly you want me to fuck your little hole, babygirl,” he growled. “Fuck yourself on my thigh, and maybe, if you’re good for me, I’ll bend you over this desk right now and fuck you ‘til you can’t walk. You want that, baby? Want your daddy’s cock wrecking your pretty little pussy?”

You rested your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, and you rocked your hips down onto his hard thigh. The material of his pants brushed your cunt and clit and made you bite back a whimper, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You hated the way that you were enjoying it. You hated him. Maybe you even hated yourself. But self-loathing could wait until you got off, because the pleasure of everything was too overpowering to focus on much else.

Charles’s hands roamed your body, touching you everywhere that he could manage. He squeezed your tits and pinched your nipples, and bolts of pleasure rocked through your whole body. That, added with the feeling on your clit, was almost too much, and you whined out. “Daddy--!”

Suddenly, his hand was over your mouth, the other clamping down around your throat. “Shut up!” he huffed. His eyes were alert, locked on yours, and his face was red. Was he really angry? The thought that he was truly angry made your stomach flip, and not in a good way. “I told you to shut the fuck up, why can’t you listen?”

You pleaded with your eyes, asking him to forgive you. It was important for your plan that he didn’t have any ill will towards you. You needed him to want to marry you, and to actually do it. Then, you would get the money, and you could find a way to stage a suicide before the money was put into his bank account. Then, you would have your father’s money, and live with just yourself and the fortune he gave you. But, in order to do that, you had to do everything Charles Blackwood asked of you. You had to treat this horrible man like the sun shined out of his lying ass. You had to make him want to marry you. Which, at the current moment, didn’t seem like it would be too difficult.

You mumbled behind his hand, trying to warn him that you were going to come, but he only hit you across the cheek again. “Not another sound, you fucking whore,” he said. “Fucking yourself on your father’s leg. So slutty. You gonna come? You wanna come on Daddy’s leg?”

You nodded quickly, and you started your hips faster. Your legs were quivering and you could hardly hold yourself upright anymore, and Charles took note of the tears brimming at your eyelashes. “Is this the first orgasm you’ve ever had, honey?” he asked. He seemed softer suddenly, and his hand left your mouth; the other stayed secure around your throat, though. You nodded quickly, and he gave a little coo. “Aw, my poor baby. I guess I oughta take some pity on you, huh? You’ve been good to me after all… Take off your dress and sit on the desk.”

Your dress hit the floor, and you settled yourself on the edge of Charles’s desk. It was a hefty thing made of mahogany, and you clenched your thighs together as Charles’s eyes raked over your entire body. “I know you’re not trying to be modest now,” he laughed. “Open your legs and show Daddy that pretty pussy.”

You bit your lip and did as he said, and you gasped when his eyes finally landed on your cunt. You were dripping wet, your slick glistening off your thighs, and Charles let one thick finger glide up your slit and collect your wetness on his fingertip. “Jesus Christ, baby,” he laughed. “You were really close, weren’t you? Let me guess, you want me to shove my cock in you, huh? Want me to fuckin’ split you in two and stuff you full of my cum? God, you would look so pretty, gettin’ all big with my baby.” He paused to suck your wetness off of his finger, and he gave a quiet little sigh. “Oh, God. Of course you taste good… So sweet, like sugar. It’s almost like you want me to eat you out, sugar.”

“Please,” you sniffled. You reached for him and pulled him in by his tie, and he slotted easily between your thighs. “Please, please, please, Daddy, want your mouth on my pussy, please, make me come, Daddy…”

Charles placed a soft kiss on your forehead as a way to placate your begging, and he whispered, “You’re asking so nicely, sugar. How could I say no to your pretty little face?”

You didn’t know what exactly to expect as Charles kneeled down in front of you, and you carefully pushed your fingers through his hair, through those perfect blond highlights. The moment his tongue touched your clit, though, you forgot entirely about how you were supposed to be hating him. You forgot practically everything that wasn’t Charles. He lapped up your wetness and placed a wet kiss to your lips, and your stomach clenched as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “Aw,” he whispered, his warm breath making your cunt flutter again. “You look so pretty, sugar, all fucked out like this. Can’t wait ‘til I can actually fuck you…”

And, with that, he dived in. He was kissing, licking, and sucking your cunt like it was his only goal in life, your thighs in his bruising grip. You had the instinct to clamp your legs shut, and you nearly did, but Charles pulled his mouth away just enough so that his lips teasingly brushed your clit, and he whispered, “Now, that’s not what good girls do, is it?”

“M’sorry, Daddy,” you whispered. “Just feels so good.”

“I know, sugar, I know,” Charles whispered. “You’re being so obedient for me, though. Do you think you deserve a reward?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Please, Daddy, I’ve been so good for you. Done what you’ve asked, please let me come.”

Charles sighed, looking up at you once more. “I love listening to you beg,” he whispered. “But you’ve been doing good for me. Go ahead, sugar. Come on my face, baby.”

The way his lips shined with your cum nearly made you pass out. If it were anyone else, you would have adored the sight of it, but, since it was your awful fucking monster of a stepfather, you loathed it. Still, you pulled him close and kissed him all the same, cringing at the taste of yourself on his mouth.

“What do we say?” Charles asked. His hands smoothed down your body, landing on your waist, and he tugged you flush against his body.

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered.

Charles smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary. “You’re welcome, sugar.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader smut #charles blackwood #charles blackwood fanfiction #charles blackwood x reader #charles blackwood smut #charles blackwood x reader smut #hehe whoops my hand slipped #and i wrote nearly 5k of awful smut

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universalimagines · 3 years ago

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Saw that you are writing for pll and I am hyped!!! Could I request the scene where Spencer was in the dollhouse with all the blood and she actually hurt the Reader because A made her do it but she can't remember? Reader remembers but doesn't want to talk about that? Once at the hospital after escaping, Aria sees that Y/N has a huge knife cut on her abdomen that gets stitched up and she is telling the girls in Spencer's hospital room? Reader is repellent to Spencer because she got the most hurt in the house because A thinks she is the weakest? Maybe after Spencer gets through her they talk about it? (Angst and fluff in the ending pls!!) 🍓

Spencer Hastings x Reader

The door opened to your room inside the hellscape that was A's Dollhouse.

The lights on the ground illuminated the path A wanted you to take. After you and the girls had tried to escape during A's Prom, she'd locked you all in your rooms for God knows how long.

Part of you wanted to give A the finger and tell her to screw off, but then you'd remember what you endured at A's hand and realized it would be easier to obey... for now.

You followed the lighted signs and saw that you were at Spencer's room. The door unlocked and you were let inside. On the floor was Spencer, passed out.

"Spencer!" You cried as you ran over to her and flipped her onto her back as the door shut behind you. Looking at her face, you saw massive bags under her eyes as if she hadn't slept in days. It didn't take long for you to realize A must have intentionally been sleep depriving her.

Suddenly Spencer's eye opened and she lunged at you screaming bloody murder. She was up so quickly that you only just noticed the giant Ka-Bar knife in her hand. She swung it brazenly at you drawing blood from your forearm.

"Spencer its me!" You yelled trying to calm her down.

But it didn't work. As you looked into her eyes and she kept coming after you, you saw they looked just like when she'd gone manic when she'd been addicted to drugs. You knew that in this state, she couldn't be reasoned with, only worn down.

As you attempted to continue dodging her, you made a miscalculation and tripped falling on your back. Spencer came down right on top of you screaming as she attempted to plunge the knife into your chest. And then she made contact. Her blade pierced your lower abdomen and she kept slamming the blade into you.

Your vision started to fade as Spencer in exhaustion gave up her assault and collapsed on top of you. Before you passed out, you felt an unknown person drag you away from Spencer and out of the room.

XXXXXXXXXX

Eventually you and the girls did manage to escape that hellhole. However thanks to your injuries, the paramedics had to carry you out so you and the girls could be sent to the hospital.

Now the girls except you were all gathered in Spencer's room having taken the time to discuss their next course of action.

As the conversation of what to do with Spencer's revelation of someone called Charles, the conversation led to your notable absence.

"I wish we had Y/N to bounce some ideas off." Emily comments.

"Yeah. Where is Y/N anyway?" Hanna asks.

Aria fidgeted nervously in her seat. "I was with Y/N in the ambulance. They took Y/N to surgery.

Spencer shot up from her seat in shock. "What... why!?"

Aria continued. "They found Y/N in a room with a badly dressed stab wound. They moved Y/N to surgery as soon as we arrived."

"Let's go find the room. We need to be there for Y/N." Spencer said suddenly feeling a wave of energy as she marched off to the nurses station with the others in tow.

"Excuse me." Spencer said to the nurse. "We were all brought in with a friend, Y/N L/N. Can you tell me what room Y/N is in?"

The nurse turned to her computer and typed in the info. "Room 213."

"Thank you." Spencer said as she rushed off to your room.

As you came to, you saw that all the girls were hovered around your bed.

"Y/N's awake." Emily called out.

"Girls?" You mumbled. "What are you all doing here?"

"Aria told us someone stabbed you down in that hellhole." Hanna replied. "We wanted to make sure you're ok."

"I'm so glad you're ok. "Spencer then tried to grab your hand and you recoiled.

The girls were quick to notice this and Spencer looked like she might cry.

"I'm sorry... I... I'm just tired." You said trying to sound convincing.

The girls silently nodded and slowly dispersed from the room with Spencer lingering for an extra moment.

XXXXXXX

Back at home things just kept getting harder. It was still impossible for you to sleep without dreaming of the Dollhouse. But even worse, you'd been trying to avoid Spencer for the time. The encounter at the hospital hadn't been a one time affair. Anytime she tried to touch you, you'd recoil. You'd hoped time would ease the wound but it didn't

As you were out for a run trying to calm your mind, you saw Spencer leaning against her car clearly waiting for you to return. You tried to turn before she saw you but you took a bad step and tripped.

"Argh!!!" You yelled as you felt the pain in your leg.

"Y/N!" Spencer cried as she came running to you trying to help you up

"I'm ok." You protested as she helped you back to your feet.

"Like hell you are." Spencer retorted.

You noticed Spencer was holding you arm again and you mind briefly slipped back to the Dollhouse. On instinct you slipped your arm out of her grip.

But this time Spencer was ready and moved herself to she was blocking your path. "Y/N we have to talk. You've been avoiding me."

"I haven't" You lied.

"Yes you have." Spencer tried to hold back the tears. "And every time I try and touch you, you break away."

You tried to deny it but no words came. "Please Y/N talk to me. I love you and I don't know what happened down there but please talk to me." Spencer pleaded with tears streaming down her face.

"You don't remember?" You asked and she shook her head. "Spencer... the reason I had to go to surgery. The person who stabbed me was you."

This time Spencer recoiled hard in shock. She put her hands to her mouth in disbelief and started to back away.

"Wait Spencer!" You grabbed her wrist to stop her. "A let me into your room after we tried to escape. You were passed out and then you came at me. You were completely manic at the time. You didn't know it was me."

"I'm so sorry." Spencer cried.

"It wasn't your fault." You said as you gently took her hands in yours. "A set the entire thing up. A's the one to blame."

"I don't know how to get passed this." Spencer asked.

"We'll find a way." You said drawing her in for a hug. "Together."

#spencer hastings #spencer hasting x reader #spencer hastings imagine #pretty little liars #pretty little liars x reader #pretty little liars imagine

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