#childhood friends to lovers???

[isawjamfirst]

what if they had met as children and bcame friends since then huh WHAT THEN

[amberjazmyn]

"i see him in your eyes, i hear him in your laugh. i think that's why i always found my way back to you..."💔🫶

pairing : charles leclerc x bianchi!fem reader

summary : every anniversary since losing her brother jules, elena bianchi always found her way back to her older brother's godson and the one person she's always loved, charles leclerc.

warnings : tears, mentions of jules bianchi, mentions of jules' crash in suzuka, mention of his coma, charles and bianchi!reader distancing themselves from one another, childhood friends to lovers???

a/n : anything about charles talking about jules just destroys me so i decided i'd write my own piece about that very thing but with a happy ending because i just can't have it be depressing the entire time. also for the 2020 segment, i did change the date of the italian grand prix to make it fit the timeline so please know i did that on purpose for the storyline and for the fact that elena and charles always meet with each other on the same day every year since 2015 even though it's obvious they have seen each other on other days but this specific date being the most important one! and i also forgot that july comes after june so i completely messed up charles' dad's passing as he passed away in june 2017, not july 2017 so i've just kept it the same month as jules but the actual date of the 20th has stayed the same!

2014 - the accident

elena bianchi thought what she was seeing wasn't real and that it was a nightmare of sorts. of course, being the younger sister of marussia f1 team driver jules bianchi, elena knew accidents during a race were bound to happen. it was due to the nature of the sport because it was always unpredictable and it involved nineteen other drivers in really fast cars that could sometimes easily crash and spin out of control. especially if something was missed by the mechanics and the rest of the driver's team. an accident to this calibre hadn't happened since aryton senna in 1994 and it wasn't supposed to. and, elena never thought of the day that her older brother would get into an accident where he wouldn't be able to walk out of it. because accidents like this hadn't happened since senna.

elena was in suzuka for the japanese grand prix 2014. she had gone alongside the rest of her family as well as the leclerc family. happily watching the race when all of a sudden, another collison happens. we say another because the reason why jules crashed was because of a crane that was still on the track still clearing debris from an earlier crash. and unfortunately due to the bad weather, jules didn't see it, lost control of his car and because of that, this accident had occured and it wasn't a pretty accident.

speaking of the leclerc's, it wasn't the entire family at the circut. sitting with elena was the middle son of pascale and herve leclerc, charles leclerc. lorenzo, the older brother and arthur, the younger brother, were at the hotel watching the race there since arthur woke up feeling unwell. lorenzo deciding to stay with his younger brother since arthur was still a bit too young for pascale and herve to feel comfortable about being left alone in a foreign country. pascale and herve were sitting with elena and jules' parents, phillipe and christine. jules and elena's other siblings, brother tom and sister melanie, similar to arthur and lorenzo, were at the hotel getting over earaches that they had both developed overnight, a floor above the two leclerc boys. so, despite not all of the families present at the actual circut, they had all seen jules' accident. because even though tom, melanie, lorenzo and arthur were in the hotel, they were still watching the race on the tv. they would never, ever miss a race the leclerc's and bianchi's. however, this was a race that they wished they all missed. jules included.

tears immediately welled into elena's eyes as she screamed from the tops of her lungs. it seemed like the entire garage and everywhere around her had heard elena's scream. it felt as though so many eyes were on her as she wept over her brother and his crash. charles immediately pouncing into action to try to get the girl he had watched grow up alongside, the two only a year apart in age, to stop crying and panicking. it tore his heart into two seeing his godfather crash and then his godfather's sister, the girl he had the fattest crush on, be so unsure of his survival. as she fell to pieces into his arms as they watched as the race got red flagged since it quickly became obvious that jules wasn't responsive.

any other crash of jules, everyone was always so certain that he'd jump out of the car and walk away with nothing but a few physical bruises with a little bit of a bruised ego. except, it seemed like this time, everyone thought the opposite. and that included jules' favourite sister, elena.

as soon as they were able to extricate jules out of the space he had been crushed into, between his car, barrier and the crane, he was taken to the nearest hospital in suzuka. and obviously, the bianchi's and leclerc's weren't that far behind. they knew they couldn't leave their brother and son all alone in a foreign country after having what could easily be labeled as his worst ever racing accident since joining f1.

🥀

elena could no longer feel her legs or her face. her legs from how long she had been sitting, curled up in that god-awful uncomfortable plastic hospital chair in the waiting room. her face from all the tears she had cried. whether they were wiped away from her own fingers or charles', the tears still didn't forget to render elena's face into pure numbness to the point it felt icy and sore to touch.

she truly had no idea how long she had been sitting on this chair, in this waiting room, in this hospital in suzuka for. had it been minutes? hours? days? it surely hadn't been weeks just yet but, she wouldn't have known because as far as her cloudy eyes let her see, she was not able to read any of the clocks that were hanging up in every other corner in the japanese hospital. she wasn't even sure how she had changed out of what she was wearing on race day and into the leggings (that were her sister's as she looked closer) and the oversized hoodie (which was one of charles', hence why it was oversized) that she finally came to notice that she had on. because of this new revelation, that was when she spoke for the first time since jules' accident.

"...quel jour est-il? et qu'est-ce que je porte? je ne me souviens pas avoir changé de vêtements," elena whispered, her voice quiet due to her not using it since the accident what day is it? and what am i wearing? i don't remember changing my clothes

"c'est lundi, elena. et tu ne te souviens pas avoir changé parce que je l'ai fait. tu portes les leggings de ta mère et mon sweat à capuche..." charles speaks up as elena looks up at him, feeling herself just relax for the first time since the accident it's monday, elena. and you don't remember changing because i did. you're wearing your mum's leggings and my hoodie

"ah, merci charlie..." elena whispers as she digs her hands further into the sleeves of his hoodie as he smiles softly thanks

sighing, charles sits himself next to elena. he had been sitting with his younger brother arthur, who was only fourteen, who had wanted to stay at the hospital so he could at least see jules one final time. the leclerc's were having to leave japan soon but arthur (and charles) begged if they could see jules once more before having to go back to monaco. and, of course, pascale and herve could never say no to their youngest and middle children. and, it was obvious that phillipe and christine were happy to take guardianship over them since lorenzo, pascale and herve were back at the hotel, already having said their pieces to jules about wanting to see him open his eyes and wake up soon and reminding him just how much they loved him and the family. they also didn't want to feel like they were overcrowding the bianchi family, not that the leclerc's ever did overcrowd the bianchi's. but, they just didn't want to risk it so they just sent over charles and arthur to say their pieces to the family and jules before having to leave back to monaco.

so, with charles next to her, elena didn't know how or why but, all of a sudden, it felt like her world had continued to turn again. it no longer felt like someone had pressed pause on her life. whenever elena and charles were together, it was as though their worlds were reignited. any time they were apart from each other, it was as though their worlds were stuck on hold. as though they were waiting for each other since no one else was apart of their world but them two.

placing her head against charles' shoulder, she spoke up again but in english. speaking french was just too complicated for her now, "charlie, are you sure you need to go back to monaco?" the seventeen year old basically whined out like a child as charles let out a breathy chuckle

"i'm very sure, elena. unfortunately, we can't stay here in japan forever. as much as i think we all wish we could, we just can't..." charles sighed as he rested his own head against elena's, their hands resting in their own laps, inches away from the other person's

"...if you had the choice to, would you stay here in japan with jules?" elena was shocked she could even bring herself to say her brother's name as charles smiled softly

"as if you felt the need to even ask that, elena! but, since you want an answer, if i had the choice, yes, i would stay here in japan with jules, et avec toi aussi" charles sighed, hoping his french whisper wasn't heard as he also wanted to stay in japan to be with elena, whilst it was heartbreaking for elena because jules was her brother, her heart suddenly broke more wondering how charles must feel and with you, too

sure, being a godfather was a special connection to have with someone but, some people would say it's not as close as a brother or sister or a legitimate, biological family member. however, since pascale and herve did pick jules as charles' godfather, it was clear that her brother meant a hell of a lot to charles and to the leclerc family. and now it hurt her more because she wished she could see how much it was hurting charles. only because charles was still trying to be strong for elena, her parents and her other two siblings. maybe even for his own family as well. they all had cried, the bianchi's and the leclercs, all of them except for charles. but elena was adamant to change that since she could never fully stay away from charles leclerc. and charles could never fully stay away from elena bianchi.

since her parents and siblings were in the hospital room with jules, arthur in there with them, elena realised this was the only opportunity she'd get to comfort charles without anyone else interferring and getting in the middle of it. grabbing the hand of charles that was closest to hers, she squeezed it tightly as the two teenagers made eye contact with one another. charles' eyes were huge but filled with such sadness and grief that he had been clearly holding back ever since the accident. the minute elena had collapsed to the floor in tears at suzuka circut in the marussia garage, charles shut off every emotion so he could take care of her. doing the exact same for everyone else in his family and the bianchi family, completely ignoring his own grief and feelings. charles was only seventeen but he was already the protector type and those who knew him and knew him well, understood that. however, it then hit elena and she was glad it wasn't obvious. who protects the protector? and, the most logical answer in elena's mind right now was no one. so, now their jobs were being switched, elena was the protector and charles was the protectee, the one being protected and comforted.

"...i'm so sorry charlie, since the accident, you've been so focused on making sure everyone else is okay that no one's stopped to ask you if you're okay," elena whispered as she held charles' hands tightly, holding them in her lap as charles all of a sudden couldn't hold eye contact anymore

it only took that one, little sentence, that broke charles and took down his protector guard for those passing through the hospital hallways to just see a slither of. after elena said that small sentence, it didn't take much longer for charles' floodgates to open and for his grief to finally be felt after keeping it hidden away since the accident. as charles cried and cried, elena held him tightly, his head hidden away in the crook of his own hoodie, that looked giant on elena's teeny tiny petite frame which was baggy on her shoulders. whispering a bunch of sweet comforts and nothings in french, elena knew there was really nothing that could soothe and take away their shared grief except for the one thing they weren't going to get for a while. jules.

🥀

it wasn't until an hour away from visiting hours finishing that charles and elena felt comfortable enough to go into jules' room and visit him. the rest of elena's family alongside arthur had all said everything they wanted to say for the day and for arthur before he'd have to go back to the hotel and then monaco with his family. however, it had taken charles and elena that long to go visit their godfather and brother because it was obvious to the both of them that the other was trying to figure out what they were going to say to jules before even seeing him for the first time.

that was the other thing that hasn't been mentioned yet. this was the first time that the two seventeen-year-olds were seeing jules since the actual accident at the track. both of them, without knowing, at separate times had attempted to go visit jules but both of them froze the second they went to turn the door handle to jules' hospital room. neither of them had the courage to go in and visit jules on their own. but, now that they were together and had each other, they knew they could now go and visit jules before they wouldn't be able to do so. since after this night, charles and the leclerc's would be leaving back to monaco whilst the bianchi's stayed in japan until they were able to repatriate jules back to france.

taking in deep breaths, looking at each and holding hands tightly, charles leclerc and elena bianchi walked into jules' hospital room. just like the day of his accident, elena nearly fell to the floor in hysterics at seeing her brother again. but this time looking so small and hurting in what looked like the tiniest, most uncomfortable hospital bed. and charles was there, holding her tightly as he prevented her from falling to the floor and getting hysterical. but this time, charles didn't hold back his own emotions. this time it was clear to elena that seeing jules again after not seeing him since the accident was putting charles through the same pain that it was putting elena through. and the two of them cried together again, but this time by jules' hospital side. the both of them hugging his hospital bed as though their tears and soft hugs, as not to hurt him, would heal him and make him wake up as though it was a disney movie.

but it wasn't a disney movie. there was nothing they could do to magically heal jules. as much as they wished they could, they weren't able to. they didn't have the healing powers to do so. apparently, according to the nurses and doctors at the hospital, they had done everything they were able to do and now, it was all up to jules and if he wanted to continue. or get better enough that they could repatriate him to france so the hospital staff there, in his home country, could use their skill and technology to help jules get better. but, if the only thing jules could do was get himself stable enough for just the flight back to france, then that was more than okay for everyone. and it seemed as though charles and elena agreed with that statement as well.

now, they started talking to each other, including jules into it even though they knew he couldn't respond. it was just a safety thing for the two teenagers. it seemed as though that wherever the bianchi siblings were, charles wasn't that far behind. or, the alternative, wherever charles and jules were, elena wasn't that far behind.

"...as much as i hate hospitals, i don't think i can say that i hate this one..." elena spoke up, trying to at least get a small giggle out of her and charles - it worked, it was only a low chuckle but it was something

"...jesus christ, elena!" charles chuckled, jules' hand slipping out of his own as he turned to face elena with a little look of disappointment

"i know, bad timing but, i don't know what else to say at this point!" elena shrugged, charles knew that she didn't know what else to say so he smiled and suggested the same thing he always did when elena struggled to say something in a tense situation

"tell the story, elena..." charles whispered as elena smiled, her eyes lighting up as she remembered the story from when she and charles were a little bit younger than they currently were, maybe around the same age as arthur currently was

three years ago

out of the two familes, the bianchi's and leclerc's, jules, elena, charles and arthur were the closest. whilst jules and elena had another two siblings, a brother tom and sister melanie, they were a lot older than jules and elena. which meant they didn't really hang out as much with charles and arthur but rather lorenzo who was much older than charles and arthur. even then, the two older bianchi's and the older leclerc didn't see each other often due to doing other things. but the other four, the younger four, were super close to the point that it didn't matter if they were sitting on the couch or bunched up in the back of the huge bianchi family car on a roadtrip across europe, they were always piled on top of each other. it was as though the four of them had absolutely no concept of what the term "personal space" meant. because, if they were completely honest, they did not understand the term of personal space. but, they didn't mind it at all.

right now, the four teenagers/young adult were in the lounge room at the bianchi home in nice, france watching a movie together. the movie they were watching was what the oldest of the core four, jules, considered to be a classic. it was disney's hercules but, honestly, the other three couldn't fault jules' comment in saying that it was a classic because it was. when the movie was released, charles and elena were barely even born, the both of them being born in 1997 whilst arthur wasn't even a thought in existance since charles still hadn't been born just yet.

because hercules the disney movie was a musical, there were songs throughout and it had suddenly come to what jules says is his ultimate favourite disney song: i won't say (i'm in love). the song that is sung by megara who insists throughout majority of the song and movie up until that point that she won't say she's in love with hercules even though she so desperately is. using that song as a subtle way to tell his godson, charles and his sister, elena that that song describes those two perfectly. because it was so blindly and painfully obvious to everyone else except those two at just how in love they were. and every time jules played this movie with charles and elena with him, even arthur, they always rolled their eyes whenever this song comes on in the movie. all because jules would remove himself from their pile that is them unable to give one another personal space and dramatically perform the song as if he was the next best singer. which was something, if you couldn't already guess, he wasn't. which is why everyone always reminded jules that when he did sing, that they were glad he was an f1 driver and he should probably stick to that job instead.

except, this time, before jules could even think about peeling himself away from sitting in between charles and arthur, elena on the other side of charles, elena peeled herself away from charles. peeling herself off the couch, elena stood in the middle of the lounge room and begun to dramatically perform megara's song i won't say (i'm in love).

because this was the first time they had seen elena do this, the three boys started crying with laughter the second elena began to sung, replicating the exact same dramatic and overexagerated moves that jules would do. unfortunately, due to how much elena had started to laugh and get hysterical, she fell to the floor crying because she was laughing too hard. she didn't even make it to the halfway point of the song before she collapsed to the floor. elena was only on the floor in hysterics for less than two minutes before one after the other, the three boys also fell on the floor. but, not really the floor. remembering that those four don't know the concept of personal space, they couldn't deal with not touching each other for more than a few minutes before they'd be touch starved and need to be on top of one another again.

after the core four finally stopped their crying from laughter gag on the floor, they finally pulled each other up and moved back to the couch so they could finish the movie. even though they had seen it so many times because of jules, they seemed to love it more and more each time. and back on the couch, it felt as though charles and elena had gotten closer to one another. whilst they were already as close as they could get on the couch beforehand, it seemed as though they were even closer by the time jules could catch a cheeky look over. and with a satisfied smile on his face, his plan had worked. a plan that charles and elena would never find out soon but, in the future they sure would because jules had written out a letter detailing his entire plan.

but jules never imagined not being there when charles and elena would first hear of the plan. the letter with the plan detailed out hadn't been found by either charles or elena but, arthur had been given the detailed letter/plan. waiting years before it would actually be found by one of them.

"...i cannot believe that story happened all those years ago, feels like it only happened yesterday or something..." arthur's small voice came out as he entered the hospital room, joining the teary faces of his brother and best friend

"...yeah, feels like that doesn't it, thuthur?" elena spoke softly, holding her arm out to welcome arthur in, it was clear that wherever he was, he had started crying again and it broke elena's heart so her next best thing was to comfort him with a tight hug

the same tight hug that she gave charles, except maybe, arthur's hug was less tight but still tight enough that it let arthur let out the few tears that he had left that he had refused to cry before joining his brother and elena. the only person she reserved those bone-crushing tight hugs for were charles. now that she was giving out these hugs to charles in the situation they were in with jules, it made her upset. she remembered something that jules had told her before he went to his car before the start of the race.

charles noticed as he watched the way she looked between her brother and charles as she let go of arthur as he sat down in the chair behind him. charles could tell that her brain was working hard to figure something out but it suddenly overwhelmed her too much and she had to force herself to sit down before her body could think of collapsing. charles also watched as he saw elena go through what looked like the memory or flashback of what jules had told her. he couldn't help but feel curious and if the flashback of what jules had told her was about him.

5th october 2014 - japanese grand prix 2014

elena bianchi was hanging out with her brother jules before the japanese grand prix at suzuka. it had been a few years since elena had gone to one of the international races since the teenager had been focusing on high school. but now that she was seventeen and about to finish her final year and with the execeptional grades she had been recieving for the first half of the year, jules, with their parents permission, had gifted his sister with vip paddock passes to the japanese grand prix. because he knew it was held perfectly within the week after her final day of actual senior year and a week before she was to start her exams, he knew it would be the perfect congrats present before she'd have to go back and smash out her final ever exams before her actual formal graduation.

so, that's where elena was currently. of course, because she was still just under being of adult age, the rest of the bianchi's had joined but so had the leclerc family. however, the entire trip, the core four, jules, elena, charles and arthur had been split up. split into twos, it was jules & arthur and elena & charles. however, that didn't mean that the bianchi and leclerc siblings didn't hang out with each other cause they did. however, elena and charles were more interested in catching up with just each other. since elena had been at the tailend of her senior year in nice, france and charles had been pushing himself to the bone to get into the formula series since he was following after his godfather, jules', footsteps. and because they were so busy, it had been a while since the two seventeen-year-old's were able to catch up with each other and have a proper conversation without having to worry about school work or racing.

it was in that moment, as jules, from afar, watched as his godson charles and sister elena reunited after what felt like forever. running into one another's arms as though they were the main characters in a romantic movie or even a book series, elena giggles as she wraps her whole body around charles who catches her seamlessly. whilst the core four had always been tightknit, there was no denying from anyone who knew the core four and who was friends with them that elena and charles had the closest friendship. like, if anyone was to ask either of them who their best friend was out of the core four, they both would say the other person. but they would then deny it when the same people said that they were in love with each other but were hiding it. jules was always (mostly) on the side of his godson and sister however, it was this moment that he truly recognised and realised that maybe those people who said his godson and sister were in love with another were right.

no two people who are just "friends" hug that tightly as though they're scared the other is just going to disappear into thin air. he had never realised either just how tightly the two of them hugged. of course he had always seen it since, like mentioned before, the core four (jules, elena, charles and arthur as a reminder) have no concept of what the term "personal space" means. however, this level that charles and elena were on was a completely different one that jules and arthur had not been exposed to until this very moment. jules then noticed arthur on the other side of the room. fourteen-year-old arthur, just like jules, had noticed for the first time just how tightly charles and elena hug each other.

finally, after that felt like an eternity, no, seriously, that hug was a whole five minutes, maybe six or seven, charles and elena had to part ways. charles had promised arthur that he'd walk him back to the hotel where lorenzo was waiting for him. arthur had woken up sick but thought he'd feel better enough to try spend a little bit of time at the track. but it was clear that when jules saw arthur, it was clear the poor teenager no longer felt well enough and just wanted to be back at the hotel as quick as possible. however, the hug between his brother and elena happened so arthur was delayed a little bit. obviously though, when charles did reach arthur, he did apologise and promised him he'd let his younger brother wear his fleecie hoodie and have some of his lollies to make him feel better. waving goodbye to the two leclerc brothers, jules and elena stood next to each other before making their way back into the marussia garage. but, not before jules had to say something though.

"you've never hugged me as tightly in the way you just hugged charles. kinda makes me sad that you don't hug me for that long either. i thought you loved me more than charles since he's always getting those special hugs. when am i gonna get one?" jules whispered, nudging his little sister, a tease in his voice as elena started to get shy and embarrased, a pinky-red blush overcoming her face

"oh stop it jules, mr dramatics! how about if you make the podium in today's race, i pinky promise you, i'll give you one of my special hugs that are only reserved for charles after the podium ceremony!" elena proposes, she knew that her brother had been working his butt off and was extremely close at reaching the podium

so, it seemed as though this bet was the power and fight he needed to make sure he got that podium. he really wanted that special hug that was literally only reserved for charles. no one else in the bianchi or leclerc family were given the special hug that lasted for five,six,seven minutes. just charles.

"you got yourself a deal, elena bianchi! you best believe i'm gonna get that podium and i'm gonna get that hug!" jules smiled with a little bit of cheeky ego as the siblings broke out of the pinky hold, elena rolling her eyes

"anyway, why do you hug charles like that? why are you so worried he's just gonna disappear on you?" jules questioned softly as elena scoffed, shaking her head not wanting to tell her older brother that it was because of how much she missed him

"oh, no reason really. it's just, it started one day where i accidentally hugged him a little too tight and for a little bit too long. i apologised since i thought it was quite embarrassing but, he reassured me that it wasn't and that it was actually quite comforting. and, yeah, it kind of just continued after that really, why? what's your theory on why we hug like that?" elena questioned, shrugging her shoulders as at first, jules was gonna say his actual answer but decided against it

"because you are head over heels in love with him and are too shy to admit it so you act all flirty but call it just you two being really good friends?" jules teases as elena shoves him as the two of them hysterically laugh before jules then got serious, deciding he needed to tell the true answer of what he thought was why those two hugged the way they do

"but in all seriousness elena, i think i know why you and charles hug in the way you do. and i think you do too but you're too scared to admit it to me which is fair. but, i do think it's because you miss me a lot because i'm constantly away and charles looks so much like me that he's basically my replacement for when i'm not around. and because you're so scared you're going to lose me, you project the same fears and worries onto charles, hence why you hug him so tightly and for the amount of time that you do...am i correct?" jules sighs sadly, noticing that elena was about to lie but decided not to since there was no point when it was clear that he had hit the nail on the donkey quite well

"yeh...you are very much correct. ten points to hufflepuff mr bianchi!" elena smiled, sarcasm in her tone as her lip trembled

it became clear to jules at this point that this race in particular was scaring his sister for some reason. he couldn't put a finger on it but, he could sense that elena had a sixth sense about something going wrong. whether that was due to the weather forcasted for the race or something else that could make a race even more dangerous, it was something. so, he pushed it. he wanted to comfort his little sister, convince her that everything would be okay and that nothing bad was going to happen. that he was as safe as he could possibly be and that they'd see one another after the race. especially when it was considered that this was elena's graduation present from jules.

however, jules would never know just how wrong he was in reassuring his little sister that he'd be fine...and now charles realised that his best friend was having a panic attack.

thankfully, he knew how to deal with them but, the one that elena was having was one he had never seen before. he truly should have seen it coming when he noticed the way she was looking between him and jules but, he just didn't. but thankfully, charles managed to get elena to relax and to take some breaths in and out.

now that she was calm, charles began talking to her, "...what was that about elena, what flashback did you just travel through?" he whispered, holding her tightly as the constant beeping of jules' machines soothed the both of them, arthur taken out of the room by christine during elena's panic attack

"i...i was back at the track here at suzuka. it was after you had dropped thuthur back to the hotel to enzo since he hadn't started feeling better like he thought he had. jules had mentioned about the long five minute tight hug we had had and how he wished he'd get one since he never gets them and was wondering when he was ever going to get one...we had a pinky promise that if he made it to the podium that i would give him one after the podium ceremony..." elena's voice cut off at the end, tears welling in her eyes as her breathing started to get shaky as charles felt his heart break

he then remembered a conversation he had had with jules a little bit after the conversation jules had had with elena. jules had revealed to charles the reason why elena always hugged him as tightly as she did. making him, charles, realise that that was why he also hugged elena as tightly as he did. charles also hugged elena so tight because he had the same worries about her that she had about jules. just like elena projected her fears about losing jules onto charles, charles projected his fears about losing jules and his friends onto elena.

opening his arms, he welcomed elena in for the tight hug that was meant to be reserved for jules.

2015 - nice, france

the new year had arrived and finally, jules and the bianchi's were back in france, no longer in the hospital in suzuka, japan, jules had been successfuly repatriated back to his hometown of nice in france. however, upon arriving back home to france, the french hospital decided to place jules into an induced coma to help with the healing process of his injuries. and, the family trusted that having their son and brother in that induced coma would help him and eventually, he'd wake up.

unlike when they were in japan, charles and elena would regularly go and visit jules together. they'd never go on their own, that not changing from when they were in japan however. so, anytime the other person found it too emotionally difficult one day to visit jules, neither of them would be visiting jules that day.

today was one of the day's that they were visiting jules. the hospital hadn't been that busy, only the regular nurses and doctor's of jules coming in every other hour or two to check in and make sure his vitals were how they were supposed to be. so for the most part, the trio sat in an ambient silence that was quite enjoyable. the silence only being broken when either elena or charles really felt the need to let jules' subconcious know whatever it was they were thinking about was important or not. and currently, that's what was happening right now. the topic being about other people's opinion's of charles and elena's relationship and why they were still refusing to admit that they were in love. elena was getting irritated because she thought it was a selfish thing to comment on considering the grief that they were currently going through with jules still in a coma in the hospital.

"...it's so selfish jules! the fact they feel like they have the audacity to comment on me and charles' relationship when you're here, laying in this bed in a coma not able to stop them spewing pure lies!" elena's voice came out in a high-pitched shrill as did jules it seemed

the high-pitched frequency of elena's voice seemed to piss jules off, causing all of his machines that he was hooked up to to beep like a madman. a stampede of nurses and doctors, some of them not even part of jules' medical team running in. charles and elena getting pushed out of the room, the door closing as the stampede tried to find the cause of the beeps and chaos so they could stop it. it was horrifying for the both of them because it happened so quickly. one moment, elena was calm as she told the story before she wasn't and then, bam, jules' machines went ballistic.

the worst part was, it was just elena and charles visiting jules that particular day so they also had the burden to tell the rest of the blended family of bianchi's and leclerc's what had happened. thankfully though, when they did tell them, no one was mad at elena for 'making' jules' machines go haywire. in fact, they were also mad when it was mentioned what elena was talking about before the incident. all of them agreeing that the people commenting on her and charles' relationship was just beyond inappropriate considering what they were going through with jules.

🥀

the best friends had settled themselves down onto what the bianchi and leclerc's called the love couch. it was a weird looking couch that, like the title suggests, looks a little like an inverted love-heart. it wouldn't be the first time that the leclerc and bianchi had sat in the love couch together before but it had been the first time in ages. the last time they had sat in it was when they were arthur's age and jules was teasing his sister and godson about how 'touchy feely' they were being with one another considering they were 'just best friends'.

it was clear that sitting back in the love couch sent the both of them through a weird sense of deja vu of that time three years ago. however, they didn't mention it even though they were totally sure that the other one was thinking of the same feeling. that was until sweet little arthur mentioned it.

"...cela me donne un vrai déjà-vu. vous ne vous êtes pas assis sur ce canapé depuis des années," arthur spoke in french as the two older teenagers smiled over at the younger one this is giving me real deja vu. you guys haven't sat on that couch in years

"nous connaissons thuthur. je ne pense pas que nous l'ayons fait exprès," charles speaks up as elena just watches on calmly, a small smile on her face we know thuthur. i don't think we did it on purpose

switching back to english, authur spoke up again, "so wait, what actually happened at the hospital?" he wondered since he wasn't at the hospital when it had happened as charles and elena scoffed softly

"i got a little bit heated, thuthur. i got mad over the topic of people commenting on me and charles' relationship whilst jules is suffering, laying in a hospital fighting for his life. my voice started to raise and it seems jules did not like that one bit so, all of his machines started beeping since my voice had reached quite a high pitch and then we were told we had to leave..." elena explained as charles wrapped his arms around her as arthur nodded his head, a solemn look in his eyes

it was clear to the two seventeen-year-olds that arthur had a thought in his head that he was battling against whether he should or shouldn't say it out loud.

"qu'est-ce qui ne va pas thuthur? on dirait que tu veux dire quelque chose," charles questioned in french as arthur once again fought himself on what he wanted to say before he decided to just say it what's wrong thuthur? you look like you wanna say something

"tu penses que jules va se réveiller? genre, il va se réveiller et tout ira bien à nouveau?" arthur questioned as charles and elena both froze for a moment as they thought about the fourteen-year-old's question do you think jules is going to wake up? like, he's going to wake up and he'll be okay again?

"oh, thuthur, je suis sûr que jules ira très bien! il ne devrait y avoir aucun doute dans ta douce petite tête que jules ne se réveillera pas!" elena spoke up this time as she leant forward from charles' grip as she ruffled arthur's hair as he nodded his head, the fear subsiding oh, thuthur, i'm sure jules will be just fine! there shouldn't be any doubt in your sweet little head that jules won't wake up!

little did those three know that elena's statement would be heartbreakingly wrong and that they should have had all the doubts in the world about jules waking up.

17th july 2015 - nice, france

the one day that charles, arthur and elena weren't at jules' bedside was the day elena recieved the one call those four never wanted to receive. jules didn't make it out of the coma nor would he ever. his beautiful eyes would never open and he'd never wake up again. he would never ever be able to get into a formula one car again. he would never get the chance to see the relationship between his baby sister and godson break down and then bloom into what would soon become a beautiful relationship in the years to come.

as soon as elena got off the phone with her parents and lorenzo telling her that jules hadn't made it, she dropped her phone almost immediately. and of course, it worried charles and arthur. the three of them hadn't really expected any new news about jules since the last they had seen and heard, they had been told he was doing fine and had a slither of hope that he'd wake up or at least show more improvement. so, this was concerning for both charles and arthur.

"ça va, elena? qui t'appelait?" charles questioned, looking away from the tv that had been playing a movie before pausing it as arthur's attention is also on elena you okay, elena? who was calling you?

at first, elena was too stunned to speak. shaking her head, it felt as though she had forgotten all three languages that she knew, french, english and italian. however, she quickly snapped out of it as she remembered how to speak french again.

"c'était maman. elle appelait à propos de jules…" elena trailed off as immediately, charles and arthur started to panic it was mum. she was calling about jules

"est-ce qu'il va bien? genre, et jules?" charles questioned with worry as elena didn't even need to say anything at this point and the two leclerc's knew exactly what elena was alluding to is he okay? like, what about jules?

even though they had a feeling of what elena was referring to, they didn't want to believe it. to the point that arthur spoke up and started to panic.

"non. non. que…tu mens elena! jules va bien! il va se réveiller, n'est-ce pas?" arthur panicked as elena moved over to the young teenager and comforted him as it all started to set in for the three of them no. no. that...you're lying elena! jules is fine! he'll wake up, won't he?

"je suis désolé thuthur…je ne mens pas, jules ne va pas bien. il…il ne va pas réveiller bubba," elena whispered as she hugged the fourteen-year-old tighter as he started to cry i'm sorry thuthur...i'm not lying, jules isn't okay. he...he isn't going to wake up bubba

hearing her best friend break down into tears hearing her words broke elena's heart. she honestly had no idea what to expect from arthur since he was usually so positive and naive in a way that jules would get better and recover. and now, all that positivity and hope was just destroyed and it didn't give elena a nice feeling in her mouth. and then, whilst hugging arthur, she couldn't help but make eye contact with charles to make sure he was okay and how he was taking the news. and his reaction, whilst not as visceral or stereotypical as people would say, charles' reaction broke elena's heart just as much as arthur's did. charles was frozen in shock. he had no clue what to do or how to react at first. he was just staring at elena as though he was hoping that the longer he stared at her that it would mean the words she said would change. but they didn't. no matter how long charles stared at elena for, it wouldn't ever change the fact that jules was dead and he was no longer going to come back.

it was at this point that elena knew that as much as it saddened her, she could only comfort one leclerc at a time. and, now that she had comforted arthur as much as she could, it was now time for her to comfort charles. pulling out of the hug with arthur, she wiped away the last of his tears, kissed his forehead and moved him in the direction of him and lorenzo's bedroom since she knew that the older leclerc would be home soon and she could ask enzo to keep an eye on arthur. all the while she'd keep an eye on charles.

now that it was just the two of them left, elena and charles, it seemed as though there was no hesitation but for charles to just collapse into elena's waiting frame. the shock still present on his face as his breathing started to get quicker as though he was about to start hyperventilating.

"jules est mort, elena…je…je ne le reverrai plus jamais..." charles stammered out as his breathing picked up as elena hugged the distraught boy tighter jules is dead, elena...i...i'll never see him again

"je connais char et je suis vraiment désolé que cela soit arrivé parce que ce n'est pas juste du tout! si seulement je pouvais faire quelque chose pour le changer, mais je ne peux pas, aucun de nous ne le peut!" elena's voice fell into a whisper as it cracked a tiny bit as her heart broke at hearing charles finally start to break down now that his shock seemed to finally wear off i know char and i am so sorry that this has happened because it's not fair at all! if only i could do something to change it but i can't, none of us can!

it had ultimately been that sentence that broke charles and had him break down in tears. they had moved to the couch, elena openingher arms for charles to fall into as they layed themselves down and hugging one another. the cries were loud and ugly, there was absolutely nothing pretty or attractive about charles' tears and sobs. they were so loud that arthur could hear them from his and lorenzo's bedroom and it was so agonizing hearing them that it had set of arthur again, making him cry all over again after he had only just managed to calm himself down. only for his older brother's heartwrenching cries to make him cry all over again. thankfully, enzo had just stepped into the house as charles started to cry and immediately, the older brother knew that with elena taking care of charles in the lounge room, he knew that their younger brother would be in their shared bedroom and crying as well.

so, with elena consoling charles on the lounge room couch and lorenzo consoling arthur in their shared bedroom, the 17th of july would forever remain as one of the saddest days for the leclerc's and bianchi's. along with the whole entire motorsports world.

17th july 2016 - monte-carlo, monaco

for the one-year anniversary of the death of her brother, elena found herself in monaco. monte-carlo to be quite specific and she loved it. whilst it wasn't that far off from her hometown of nice, france, in monaco it didn't reek of memories of her older brother jules. elena was all alone in monaco however. the rest of her family still in france as they celebrated and mourned the one-year annviersary of jules as a family whereas they allowed elena to do whatever it was she wanted. knowing that there was no way she could stand being in nice or france in general for the one-year anniversary of jules' passing.

however, she had never expected to bump into charles leclerc. the last time they had properly seen each other, elena and charles, was at jules' funeral. and it wasn't because they were actively avoiding each other by any means. the loss of jules had actually brought the youngest bianchi and the middle leclerc closer than ever. however, it was because of charles getting further in motorsport that caused the two of them to see each other less often. they always spoke over the phone and through text messages and facetimes but it wasn't until the one-year anniversary that they had actually seen each other in person again.

it was charles that had noticed elena first and a small smile creeped on his face as he moved closer to his childhood best friend. today wasn't a day that charles originally felt like smiling about however, just seeing his godfather's younger sister in his hometown of monte-carlo, monaco was all he needed for that smile on his face to appear.

"...elena? est-ce vraiment toi?elena? is it really you?" charles called out as the brunette-haired girl turned around, her hair blowing in the wind as another smile grew across charles' face - it was elena

turning around, elena was confused and slightly freaked out that someone knew her name and was calling out for her. however, when she fully turned around and looked at the person that had called out her name, a smile overtook her face as well. it was charles and she couldn't believe it. it had been almost an entire year since she had seen him and now, on the one-year anniversary of her brother's passing, here he was, back in his hometown whilst she was there at the same time and they had just happened to bump into each other.

"charles! salut, ouais, c'est bien moi! que fais-tu à la maison?" elena jumped off the seat she was sitting on and rushed over to pull the now eighteen-year-old in for a hug as charles welcomed it charles! hi, yeah it really is me! what are you doing back home?

"j'étais censé courir mais j'ai vite réalisé à quel point c'était difficile pour moi de courir compte tenu de la date d'aujourd'hui…" charles trailed off as elena remembered and nodded her head, understanding why charles would find it difficult to even think about stepping into a race car on this date i was supposed to be racing but i, uh, quickly realised just how hard it was for me to race considering today's date

"ouais, je ne peux pas imaginer devoir même penser à être sur une piste de course aujourd'hui," elena's voice went down a step as charles nodded his head as he gulped yeah, i can't imagine having to even think about being on a racetrack today

silence quickly filled charles and elena as they sat next to each other. it was a comforting silence, there was never any awkwardness between the two eighteen-year-olds. even when they were kids, they were never awkward with one another. but now that they were eighteen and it had now been an entire year without jules, it felt as though the two of them were slowly drifting apart from one another. and it scared them because they had always been a tight knit group alongside enzo, arthur and jules. but now that jules was gone, it felt as though everything was falling apart and it was devastating. the bianchi's and leclerc's still spoke to each other but it felt as though the loss of jules made a hole in everyone's hearts that they just started to slowly drift away.

however, today it seemed as though jules was really bringing everyone together because someone's very familiar sounding accent caught charles' and elena's attention. it was arthur and lorenzo. and it was honestly quite the emotional moment when elena bianchi reunited with arthur and lorenzo leclerc. in the same way it was an emotional moment to be reunited again with charles after an entire year.

"elena? c'est bien toi! elena? it's really you!" arthur's voice rings out as he runs over to pull the older girl in for a hug, the now fifteen year old on the verge of tears

as soon as elena smiled and nodded her head, giving arthur the true confirmation he needed to let him know that it really was elena, he broke down into tears. hugging him tightly, elena smiled as she invited the older leclerc into the hug since she could tell that he was also on the verge of tears as well. the hug between the two leclerc's and the bianchi was a sweet hug that was clearly needed by all three of them - and charles of course. there was no way elena could exclude charles so she also extended a hand to charles when she started to notice that he was feeling the smallest bit left out.

"viens ici, char! come here, char!" elena giggled, opening up the hug once more to bring him into it as he smiles and does just that

now that the hug was semi complete since it was no longer the core five but now the core four, it was a lovely moment that was a sweet, emotional moment that truly reminded elena of why she had come to monaco that day for the one-year anniversary of jules' passing.

the rest of the day was elena spending some much needed catch-up time with the leclerc's, not just the three brothers but also with herve and pascale. the smiles on the faces of herve and pascale when the brothers walked in with elena with them were as bright as could be. they'd never been happier to see elena then they were that day. although the day was a difficult day and it was always going to be a difficult day, seeing elena walk into their house alongside their three boys made a world of a difference for herve and pascale. that was the day they truly had faith in the fact that jules' death didn't really cause the four friends to distance from one another but it had in fact brought them closer.

17th july 2017 - nice, france

it was the two year anniversary of jules' passing when elena found herself in her hometown, nice, france, spending the annviersary with her family. whilst she had absolutely adored being in monaco for the first anniversary and it had brought her so much closure and tightened her bond with the leclerc's, it was clear that elena needed her family this year. and the leclerc's had no worries about that. especially now that charles had made his way into formula two, they understood completely but continued to talk with each other over text conversations and one facetime call between charles and elena.

then, it started to get later in the day, two years of jules' passing almost over, elena sitting outside at a beach in nice. she needed an escape from her home and the beach was her favourite spot to decompress when she suddenly heard the roar of a car engine. and it was nearing midnight so it mortified her to think it was her parents or one of her other siblings trying to look for her. and as she started in her rush up off the sandy beach, she stood up only to see that it was charles. the very same charles that was in monaco not even an hour beforehand. well, that's what it had looked like to elena when they were on the facetime call but, apparently not. but, clearly it was possible since it was only 28mins give or take between the two places. but it still shocked the bianchi that for the second year in a row, that they were seeing each other on the anniversary of jules' passing.

"hé, étranger, qu'est-ce que tu fais ici si tard dans la nuit?" elena chuckled cheekily as charles giggled himself as he continued to walk further down the sand towards elena hey stranger, what are you doing here this late at night?

"oh, pas vraiment de raison. mais je pourrais aussi te poser la même question, que fais-tu ici si tard dans la nuit?" charles was cheeky back as elena giggled and shook her head as they finally were in arms reach for a hug as they embraced one another oh, no real reason really. but i could also ask you the same question, what are you doing here this late at night?

"honestly?" elena questioned in english as charles nodded his head as the two nineteen year olds pulled out of the hug and sat down back onto the sandy beach below them

"well, i can't stand maman's consistent breakdowns alongside papa, melanie and tom just being on hand and foot for maman when she's not the only one grieving over jules. i thought i really needed my family today for jules' two-year anniversary but honestly, i think i just needed my own space that's away from them. besides, why are you here when you should be spending time with your family? i heard that your papa's sick, how's he going?" elena shrugged but got serious at the mention of charles' father who had recently fallen ill which got charles slightly quiet and emotional as his jaw clenched

"wow...seems as though we both needed to get away from our overbearing families..." charles' voice went quiet as elena was in shock, the leclerc's were never ever overbearing so she was curious

"...what do you mean by overbearing?" elena questioned as charles sighed and shrugged his shoulders

"similar to you, i guess. maman's started to freak out so much that it's taken over lorenzo, arthur and myself to the point that no matter what we try to do, maman will always find an arguement about why we shouldn't be doing it and instead be focusing on our father. that was why i decided to run away and find you cause i just needed to be with someone else that wasn't my family and you were the first person i thought of..." charles admitted as elena smiled sadly as she held her hand out for him to grab and he did without hesitating

and it was as though a small spark zapped the second the two made contact with one another. it made the both of them jump as though they had both zapped each other but with small smiles and a sense of calm, they stayed holding hands. and holding hands made a sweet silence grow between the duo. the only other noise being the wind and the ocean in front of them as it comes and goes from the tide's edge.

that was until charles' spoke up again, "i'm so scared of the possibility of something bad happening to papa that i lied to him and told him that i had signed with ferarri..." charles sniffled softly as elena's body deflated whilst her grip on charles tightened

"...oh, char! i'm so sorry!" elena whispered as she pulled the now sobbing monegasque in her arms, their hands still tightly clasped as elena whispers sweet words in french

"they...they think it'll happen soon. he's not doing well at all, elena and i'm terrified! i can't lose papa so soon after losing jules, i just can't!" charles whimpered, his tears hitting elena's bare shoulder ever so softly

"i wish there was more i could do or say to help, char but i'm at a loss for words! what do you want me to do to help you?" elena asked as even though she had no idea how to help her best friend, she still wanted to

"just hold me, elena, please?" charles whispered as elena nodded her head and tightened her grip on charles as he buried his head into her shoulder as they sunk further down into the sand below them

just like last year on the one-year anniversary, on the two-year anniversary, elena spent the evening of jules' passing with the leclerc's. however this time, it was so much more somber knowing that herve wouldn't have that long left himself. spending the night curled up against the three brothers as they all cried and shared with elena their fears of losing their papa in the same way they shared their fears of losing jules.

17th july 2018 - monte-carlo, monaco

today was the three year anniversary of jules' passing and it was also about to be the first-year since the leclerc's had said their final goodbyes to their father, herve. it was awful, elena remembered that day clearer than she remembered the day she was told about jules' death. and maybe that was because she was actually at herve's bedside with the leclerc's to help pascale console them on the day he died whereas with her brother, she was at the house with the brothers when she got the phone call about jules' death. but, none the less, just like the two years before this one, elena was in monaco this time, deciding that every anniversary of jules' from now on she'd spend in monaco. ever since last year's terrible two year anniversary in france, elena decided she'd spend it in monaco with the leclerc's or until she could afford to live in monaco. even then, she'd still spend all the time she could in monaco with the leclerc's anyway. so she could then also be there for them during the anniversaries for herve now that it was only a few days between jules' anniversary and herve's. herve passing away on the 20th of july last year.

so because of that, on top of missing and thinking about her brother, elena was thinking about herve leclerc and the heartbreak that brought to her best friend's family. however, it completely shocked her to find out that days later, charles won the f2 feature race in baku and tributed his win to his father. unfortunately, elena wasn't able to go to that race to support charles in baku but it was obvious that when he returned home by who he decided to visit first which was elena that charles was also thinking about wanting her to know about this win. and it had been since that day that charles and elena hadn't seen each other since charles was getting further in formula two and on the verge of making it on the grid for formula one, he was so busy with all the races and the fun and exciting things that came with formula two and verging on formula one that the two nineteen year olds were no longer able to see one another or speak to each other over the phone as often as they liked to. but they didn't let that ruin their friendship and the clear soulmate bond that they had with one another.

however, as though it was the work of jules and herve, elena turned around from the beach of monte-carlo to see charles standing right behind her. this had happened every year on jules' anniversary and now it started to feel like it was a sign not just from jules but now herve with a message for the two young adults.

smiling, she didn't hesitate to run over and pull charles in for a hug, one which he didn't fight against either as he also smiled into the hug.

"ce doit être un signe de jules et papa à ce stade. c'est la troisième année que cela arrive!" charles joked as the two pulled out of the hug as elena giggled and nodded her head this must be a sign from jules and papa at this point. this is the third year that this has happened

"ça doit être le cas, clairement ! parce que depuis que vous avez débuté en formule two, c'est vraiment le seul moment où nous pouvons nous voir et pas seulement nous parler au téléphone," elena chuckled with a nose crinkle as they started to walk further down the beach a little more as charles giggled too it must be, clearly! because ever since you've started in formula two, this is really the only time we actually get to see each other and not just talk over the phone

"si c'est un signe de jules et papa, qu'est-ce que tu crois qu'ils essaient de nous dire?" charles questions as they then sit themselves down on the sand right in front of where the tide was coming in and out if it is a sign from jules and papa, what do you think it is they are trying to tell us?

elena giggled as she tilted her head to charles' shoulder where he let her rest her head, "peut-être qu'ils nous demandant d'arrêter de tourner autour du pot et d'accepter que nous sommes peut-être plus que de simples meilleurs amis?" she giggled as she then turned to look at charles, making strong eye contact as he froze for a moment maybe they are asking us to stop beating around the bush and accept that maybe we're more than just best friends?

charles wasn't silent in shock for too long before he smiled and brought his focus back to elena, "cela aurait beaucoup de sens puisque la seule fois où nous nous voyons maintenant, c'est à l'occasion de l'anniversaire de la mort de jules..." charles trailed off as elena nodded her head and agreed because it was true it would make a lot of sense since the only time we just happen to see each other now is on the anniversary of jules' death

even though they never imagined it nor wanted it happen in that way and sure as hell did jules never want his death to be the reason for them ever so slowly and slightly drifting away from each other. it was clear that on this one day every year since, jules was bringing them together to the same spot, whether elena was in france or monaco, they always managed to find each other. and now it seemed as though this was also herve's doing since jules wasn't the only one rooting for charles and elena to fall in love. and now that they three, nearly two, days away from the one-year anniversary of herve, it seemed as though herve was also doing everything he could to bring the two closer to each other yet again.

the rest of the evening, once again, elena would find her way back to the leclerc's and spend that evening and that week with them. supporting them in the same way with herve as they supported her with jules.

and maybe, just maybe, a little something more happened between charles and elena. but just maybe though.

17th july 2019 - monte-carlo, monaco

it was the four-year anniversary of jules' death that things between elena and charles really started to change. elena had now made a permanant move to monte-carlo since she decided that she wanted to study in monaco and her parents were happy to see their daughter flourish in monaco, knowing that france was never going to do that for her. and it was clear those two, elena and charles, had started to become more than just friends but the two of them, when asked, still called their relationship a friendship. now that charles was coming off the cusp of his rookie season with formula one, just like the other years, his time spent with elena was almost fickle until this very date, the 17th of july, when they always seemed to magically run into one another. it was now a sweet inside joke within the bianchi and leclerc families that on this very day every year, there was some force or pull in the universe that had charles and elena find each other.

and once again, it was on a beach, not the same beach as last year but a beach nonetheless that charles and elena found one another. except, this time it was elena that had found charles, unlike the previous years when it had been charles. the reason was because elena was on her daily walk after her uni classes since her uni was right near this specific beach when she thought she heard what sounded like someone crying. and hearing someone crying always put elena on high alert because she never wanted to hear someone cry and not be able to console them. so that was what she did. she had simply followed the sounds of the crying and found her way to where the tide was meeting the sand and there the silhouette was.

but it wasn't just anyone's silhouette, it was charles' silhouette. and little cracks started to form around elena's heart as the closer she got the louder charles' cries were getting. running down the sand bank to the ocean's tide seemed like the only thing elena was focused on as she got closer and closer to charles before she collapsed to her knees as soon as she could see that charles could recognise it was her and not a stranger. as soon as she saw that charles knew it was her, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to her as that gave charles the clues he needed to know that he could cry as loud as he wanted now.

"je suis vraiment désolé, char! tu ne méritais pas ça!" elena had no idea why those were the first words that came out of her mouth but they were as charles started to calm himself down i am so sorry, char! you did not deserve that!

"pourquoi tu t'excuses elena? why are you apologising elena?" charles whispered, his voice cracking from his tears as elena removed one arm from her hold of charles to his cheek to wipe away the tears

"parce que je suis vraiment désolé que vous ayez dû perdre deux belles personnes dans votre vie à un si jeune âge, à une époque où vous essayiez si fort d'entrer en formule one!" elena whispered, her hand that wiped away the tears now resting softly on his cheek, her other arm wrapped around charles as they sat knee-to-knee, the tide coming and going as it pleased because i am so sorry that you had to lose two beautiful people in your life at such a young age at a time when you were trying so hard to get into formula one

charles really couldn't understand why elena was apologising for something she truly had no control over. sure, this day as well as three days from this one, the twentieth, would always be a day of sadness and grief, that wasn't the main reason why charles was so upset and crying on the beach. honestly, the reason why he was crying was a hell of a lot more embarrassing reason than the four year anniversary of jules and the upcoming two year anniversary of his father. he was crying because he had finally read the note that jules had wrote back in 2014 before the japanese grand prix that he had given to arthur for safe keeping. it was the letter that he had written about wanting to see the day that his sister and godson admitted to one another that they really did love each other more than just as friends.

"tu n'as vraiment pas besoin de t'excuser elena. la raison pour laquelle je pleure n'est pas de ta faute ni à cause de papa ou même de jules…" charles trailed off since whilst the reason why he was crying had to do with jules, it wasn't in the way elena thought it was you really don't need to apologise elena. the reason why i'm crying isn't your fault nor is it because of dad or even jules

"alors pourquoi tu pleures, char? then why are you crying, char?" elena questioned softly as she held his hand tightly as the waves crashing around them was their background music as charles smiled tearfully

"parce que je t'aime tellement elena! because i love you, so much elena!" charles whispered, his voice breaking slightly as elena softened as a sweet smile overtook her face

"je t'aime aussi, char et je l'ai toujours aimé! i love you too, char and i always have!" elena whispered back with a 'duh' tone in her voice as charles sniffled, wiping away a tear from his cheek as he shook his head, causing elena confusion

"je ne veux pas dire ça comme ça, elena ! je t'aime plus qu'un simple meilleur ami...i don't mean it like that, elena! i love you more than just a best friend..." charles admits for the first time and it was like a weight off his shoulders as elena went into shock and froze, only her eyes blinking

the silence went on for another minute, the two twenty-one year olds staring at one another in pure silence. again, it wasn't an awkward silence but it was a silence that let elena fully comprehend what charles had just admitted to her.

"...c'est pourquoi je pleurais parce que j'avais trouvé la lettre qui était le plan que jules avait écrit il y a des années en 2014 à propos de notre entrée en relation parce qu'il avait toujours voulu que nous arrêtions d'être des bébés et que nous nous disions la vérité mais il ne l'a jamais été pouvoir le voir…" charles broke the silence but with a whisper as elena didn't break her eye contact, fully comprehending what charles had just revealed since she had also felt the same but had no clue how to bring it up either that's why i was crying because i had found the letter that was the plan that jules had written years ago in 2014 about us getting into a relationship because he had always wanted us to just stop being babies and tell each other the truth but he was never able to see it

"le plan que jules avait donné à thuthur? the plan that jules had given to thuthur?" elena questioned with a small smile as charles smiled too with a headnod

"ouais, la lettre que thuthur cachait dans sa chambre depuis 2014. yeah, the letter that thuthur had been hiding in his room since 2014," charles chuckled softly as elena smiled, nodding her head knowing it was that cheeky bugger that had been keeping her brother's letter safe

"j'avais le sentiment que c'était thuthur qui le gardait en sécurité! i had a feeling that thuthur was the one keeping it safe," elena giggled softly as charles looked shocked - did elena know about the letter?

"tu savais? you knew?" charles questioned as elena giggled as she shook her head, letting charles know that she was just as shocked as he was to find out there actually was a letter even though she was suspicious that jules had actually written one

"oh mon dieu, non! je n'en avais vraiment aucune idée, je veux dire, j'avais des soupçons, mais je n'ai jamais pensé que jules irait de l'avant et aurait un plan écrit pour essayer de nous rapprocher," she chuckled as charles did too as he nodded his head, giggling a little too as they continued to hear and feel the waves crash right at their feet, the sun fully set at this point oh my gosh, no! i truly had no idea, i mean, i had a suspicion but never did i think jules would actually go ahead and have a plan written about trying to match make us together

"eh bien, pensez-vous que ce qu'il a écrit dans cette lettre…dans ce plan pourrait se réaliser?" charles questioned with hopefulness as elena giggled sweetly well, do you think what he wrote in that letter...in that plan could come true?

"je le fais, char. je pense vraiment que Jules écrivait dans le futur parce qu'il était parfaitement au courant de tout ce qu'il écrivait dans cette lettre, comme s'il savait exactement ce qui allait se passer... même sa mort," elena admitted as charles couldn't even hide the smile on his face that was being illuminated by the two young adults iphone flashlights i do, char. i really do think jules was writing into the future because he was bang on with everything he wrote in that letter as though he knew exactly what was going to happen, even his death

"je t'aime, elena. plus que je n'ai jamais aimé quelqu'un dans ma vie…" charles whispered as he got closer to elena's face as she smiled, moving her face closer to charles' face i love you, elena. more than i've ever loved anyone before in my life

"...je t'aime aussi char, plus que quiconque dans ma vie," elena whispered as they continued to move closer before they were so close that they could feel each other's breaths on each other's cheeks i love you too char, more than anyone else in my life

"embrasse-moi elena, s'il te plaît? kiss me, elena, please?" charles whispered in a plead as elena nodded her head as she moved forward to kiss him

"je pensais que tu ne demanderais jamais, char! i thought you'd never ask, char!" elena whispered as she hiked herself up on her knees before her hands found their way to charles' cheeks

after finding charles' cheeks with the limited lighting they had from their iphone flashlights, elena's eyes and mouth found charles' eyes and mouth and then all of a sudden, in the most gentle of ways, elena initiated what was their first official kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend.

we're saying first official kiss because remember the night last year on the three-year anniversary of jules' passing? the night that elena went back to the leclerc's and there was an allusion that maybe, just maybe, something more had happened between the two? that was the 'something more'. the two had shared a very emotional kiss of desperation between the two, mostly on charles' side since it was days before the loss of his father and he wasn't coping well especially after he had made elena aware that he had lied to his father about getting not just a formula one contract but the contract signing him to ferrari. and, the only thing that elena could think to do in her elevated emotional state of mind since she had also gotten emotional herself that night as well about jules' death and the probability of herve's looming death was that the smartest thing in her mind was to ask charles to kiss her. at first he wasn't sure about it but when the both of them started to cry about the thought of herve never being alive to see his baby boy and the little girl he always saw as his daughter fall in love with each other and kiss each other, they decided they'd kiss and lie to herve telling him that they were dating and had been for a month. and it was after that evening when the two teenagers fell asleep next to each other, holding one another with tear-stricken faces that arthur, lorenzo and pascale knew that they had just lied to herve to make him happy for one last time.

and that 'first' kiss they had had wasn't the reason why they stopped seeing each other except for messages and facetime calls. it was genuinely because of charles' f2 career and that he was in the works of making it to the formula one grid and that elena was starting to think about leaving nice, france once and for all. but now that they were both permanantely situated in monaco and they were older and wiser, they took this year's four year anniversary of jules' death as their sign to finally tell each other the truth and that they were in love with each other. they just never imagined it would have started because elena had found charles crying on the beach because it was him that had found jules' letter that had the written plan out of playing cupid and getting the two dating.

and now, they were having their first real kiss as a couple and it was a wonderful kiss. it truly felt magical and as though the stars were finally aligning and as though the work of jules as well as herve had finally done it's job. jules had finally played cupid and was able to matchmake his baby sister and godson to start their long-awaited relationship after years of waiting. even though jules couldn't see it happen in real life, he still sure as hell made it happen with his soul that was seemingly always around on this specific day every year whilst his body laid at rest.

after they finished kissing, like the last couple anniversaries, charles and elena got themselves standing and walked back to elena's car. elena figuring out that charles had ran from wherever it was he had been all the way to the beach so they hopped back into elena's car and drove back to the family home. even though both charles and elena had apartments of their own, the leclerc family home in monaco was the best comfort spot for the two and it was where they had gone back to after every anniversary of jules that they had seen each other.

let's just say it brought a huge smile to the faces of pascale, lorenzo and arthur when they saw the couple walk into the house holding hands and giving each other shy looks.

17th july 2020 - monza, milan, italy

on the five year anniversary of her older brother's death, elena bianchi wasn't in monaco nor was she in france. she was in monza for the italian grand prix. wearing red, obviously, to support her boyfriend charles who was now driving for ferrari alongside sebastian vettel. it was the first grand prix of the 2020 season that she had been able to watch live due to the coronavirus and since so many races had been and were no doubt going to be cancelled due to the ongoing pandemic. and it had also been the first f1 race that she had actually seen in person since the 2014 japanese grand prix when jules had his accident. however, in monza, there was no way that elena was taking it for granted that she was at a race during a global pandemic but especially on the one day that she wishes no one could race on again. just like f1 lovingly retired her brother's racing number, 17, she wished they could retire the 17th of july as a day where they don't schedule a race on. however, she knew that was impossible since it wasn't always up to the fia as to when the grand prixs would be and what dates during the competition season they'd run on.

so, sitting in the ferrari hospitality, elena watched with equal nervousness and excitement. that was until it turned into sadness when charles had to retire out of the race. it broke her heart to see the love of her life get a DNF but at the same time, she was so grateful that he didn't hurt himself or get into a bad accident that caused him that DNF. by the time charles no longer felt any anger about retiring from the race, he went straight over to the hospitality to find elena. and she was right there waiting for him, with her arms wide open for him to fall into knowing just how much he really wanted that win considering what day the italian grand prix just happened to fall on this year as well as it being during a bloody pandemic.

"i'm sorry bebe, you didn't deserve that!" elena whispered in english, both french and italian escaping her as charles smiled softly and shook his head

"it's fine, ma belle. maybe it was a sign from jules and papa to keep me safe!" charles huffed loudly as he adored being held by his girlfriend, her legs crossing over the lower of his back, her arms rubbing his upper back

"yeah, maybe it was but, at least we're gonna see a maiden win this race i think..." elena perked up as she watched the race as it continued on the screens in front of her, causing charles to spin around and bending down to sit on elena's lap

"...oh my gosh...pierre's gonna win his first ever f1 grand prix!" elena whispered, her smile widening as her free hand covered her mouth whilst charles could only bite his lip to stop his smile from looking crazy with a shaking head

pierre and charles grew up together, doing karting together alongside a couple other of the current grid drivers and carried their sweet close knit friendship from childhood over to their adulthood. pierre had gone through a lot of loss similar to charles and elena with the deaths of jules as well as another good friend, anthoine hubert who was an f2 driver that died during the f2 feature race at spa-francorchamps during the f2 round in 2019. it was an emotional moment to see their best friend win his first ever race only for him to then dedicate that first win to anthoine. it was an emotional moment for everyone, not just for pierre, but for those who knew and loved anthoine.

the boyfriend and girlfriend had watched their best friend on the podium for his first ever win and to say it was an emotional affair was an understatement. seeing pierre get emotional and cry on that podium was heartwrenching. but it also reminded them that on this day, during this race, no one got hurt and no one lost their life in the same way anthoine had done last year at spa and jules had done on this day five years before in suzuka.

🥀

it was during the celebration party at one of milan's finest clubs that a lifechanging moment would happen just before the 17th of july 2020 switched to the 18th of july 2020. just before the clock could strike midnight, charles made his way up to the microphone where the dj paused the music he was playing and allowed the f1 driver to say his speech. no one really knew what was going on, especially elena, however it was clear when she looked at the other drivers that they had an idea of what was about to happen and no one seemed more excited than the race winner of the italian grand prix himself, mr pierre gasly. not even caring that the attention was being drawn away from him, he was just happy that a day that is filled with so much grief for his best friends was about to turn into a beautiful memory for the rest of their lives.

"...i am fully aware that this celebration party is for mr race winner of the italian grand prix, pierre gasly but, if i could please just steal the attention of everyone for one moment, that would be amazing, thank you..." charles started as elena's eyes widened in shock to see that her semi-sober boyfriend had taken the dj's microphone

just as she was to step forward to stop him, kika, pierre's girlfriend holds her arm out, stopping the girl from attempting to stop whatever it was that charles was about to do.

"...don't elena, just let him say what he has to say. it's clearly something important..." kika whispered, her arms wrapped around the back of elena as she nodded her head and relaxed

neither girl realising just how important kika's statement would be and what charles was about to do. the model hadn't realised that she had just foreshadowed charles' announcement

"...this day, the 17th of july is usually a day that is sad and full of grief for me and the bianchi family, this whole week is actually when i remember my papa as well. however, i no longer want this to be a day of sadness and grief. i want this to be a day of hope, joy and excitement in the same way the two families grew up in a happy, safe, hopeful home. because i had the pleasure to grow up with the bianchi's, it meant i was able to form a special bond with elena. the youngest of the bianchi family and i think i knew from the moment i met her and the moment i knew what the word love meant that i was crazy about her..." charles took in a deep breath as elena's breath caught in her throat as it suddenly dawned on her what charles was doing

"...elena alexandra bianchi, you are the love of my life, no one is denying that. you've been the love of my life for so long that it pains me to think there was a time in which after we went through all of these losses that you doubted that i loved you. and that's my fault for not trying harder to see you more than just on this same day every year since. and i know that's what i plan to do for the rest of my life, to love you so much that it takes away all the doubt and hurt i've knowingly and unknowingly put you through. whilst i've already asked for permission from your parents, there was always one other person that i dreamt of asking permission from to do this and it breaks my heart that i couldn't ask jules because i know just how much he adored being your older brother and watching the way the relationship between his baby sister and his godson grew over the years. whilst he may have been the start of taking charge of the ship that was trying to get the both of us to admit that we were in love with each other *tearful giggles* it truly was arthur that finished steering that ship. but, there is no doubt in the world to me that jules was the entire reason why i fell in love with you. and he is also the reason why i want to make you my wife *choked gasp*. elena alexandra bianchi, will you marry me and become elena alexandra leclerc for the rest of your living days?" charles was basically sobbing by the end of his speech as he rested on his knee, the ring a beautiful sapphire as elena nodded her head immediately

collapsing to her own knees, grasping charles' face to wipe away his tears, she didn't hesitate in kissing him and accepting his marriage proposal.

"oh, charlie! why wouldn't i marry you? i love you so much!" elena managed to choke out as tears started to well in her eyes as well

"i love you too, elena!" charles choked out in response as they shared a very sweet moment, their foreheads touching as they revelled in the silence that surrounded them

of course, after the engagement, elena and charles threw a party in congratulations about the new engagement and of course, many many photos were taken of the night. however, they first time they would see the light of day would be the next year when they were knee-deep in their wedding month. the photos of their engagement party posted a week before their big day. which, of course, they made sure was on the 17th of july 2021. of course, they were a little worried that because all of their relationship anniversaries were on the 17th of july that they were trying to take away the rememberance and memory of jules. however, christine and phillipe adored the idea that their daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law could make a sad and day full of grief into a day of happiness and love. especially when they had the joy and excitement of wedding planning now beginning, there was only room for joy and hope for the 17th of july to be filled with more happier memories even though jules would never be able to be apart of it or witness any of it.

fin (for now)

this was so much fun to write but it took forever! however, because i reached the block limit apparently, there is a part two so sorry that it just abruptly stopped but i had to! but part two shouldn't be as long nor take as long as this first part has!

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[acerathia]

hello, getting unhinged over obito today (again)

[soaked-doors]

baby i fall in love again come every summertime

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

[hairmetal666]

Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

[maiooo-0]

RAAAAAAH I LOVE THEM

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

♡ ring pops, chocolates, proposals ! ♡

katsuki loves you throughout the years.

BOOM !! surprise extra on your foreheads !!! this is basically a lil extra to rpp from katsu n readers pov ! i thought it was cute n i hope yall enjoy it too <33 !! much luv xx

fem reader, slight anime n manga spoilers ! food (candy and chocolate), jealous katsuki, mentions of dicks bc katsuki calls someone one, katsuki n reader are in their 20s, reader loves rain, katsuki does not, proposal, kissinggg, reader likes romance (implied sligthly), katsuki does not (kinda), soft n emotional katsuki bc I LOVE HIM FIGHT MEEE!!! RAAHHH!!!, short n sweet, proposal, lmk if i missed sum else !! <33

"for you."

katsuki, age 6 stands in front of you. no more words are said from him as he looks off to the side, beet red face turned away from you with outstretched hands. and clutched tightly in his hands, a ring pop in your favourite color.

you beam, immediately taking it from him. "thank you, katsu !" you chirp, quickly popping the candy into your mouth. katsuki's shoulders relax when he sees you've taken the offering from him although he doesn't meet your eye fully just yet.

"do you wanna share ?" you ask sweetly, already reaching out your candy towards him seeing that he didn't have one of his one in hand. he furiously shakes his head, pushing your hand back towards you.

"no ! and this one's for you ! i already got one.." he insists, shoveling around in his backpack before the crinkle of a wrapper grabs both of your attention. he pulls out the bag of sweet ring pops and picks out an orange one for himself. showing it to you while his eyes drift away from yours. you smile, seeing that you can both eat candy together now.

"i-it's a ring. so..you're my wife," he states. your big eyes widen at him and his glowing red cheeks. you look back down at the candy you've been eating pressed around your finger. it's bigger than the rings you see on tv.

you like katsuki. he was a little rough sometimes, and he could be a little mean. but he always played with you and shared his coloured pencils. he'd sit in the reading corner with you and hold your hand when you'd go on field trips.

"oh, really ?" your face heats, he nods. "want you to be my wife, cus haruto's always lookin' at you..a-an' you're my friend. not his." he mumbles bitterly. you like haruto, he's nice to you, but not as much as katsuki. katsuki was your best friend.

"does that make you my husband then ?" katsuki gets red to the tips of his ears and his nose is practically pressed into the collar of his shirt but he nods anyways. you beam again, the taste of the flavoured candy still on your lips. " i like that !"

katsuki blinks at you, chubby little cheeks pulling into a smirk and he drops to sit down next to you roughly on the grass. finally popping his own ring in his mouth.

"then you're my wife, yeah ?" you nod and he grins, you hear the candy clack around his mouth. "means you're only ever gonna be with me." and you nod again happily because you like that, you like the thought of only being with katsuki, because he's your best friend ever.

"mhm !"

"..forever." he adds tentatively and when you nod again he snickers to himself.

wait till stupid deku hears about this.

valentine's day was fucking stupid. and white day was even stupider.

besides them being the corniest holidays ever, katsuki finds the whole concept stupid. why do you need an entire day just to grow the balls to tell someone you like them ? and the worst part is that some fuckers have the audacity to try that shit with you.

katsuki remembers when he'd started despising the stupid holidays. it was in his first year of middle school and you opened up your locker to see some chocolates and a hand written note.

it was cheesy. and fucking stupid. but you smiled about it.

you fucking liked it.

the bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you at the end of the day, when you're supposed to go home with katsuki and end up coming over to his house to do your homework together (so he could stare at you) then stay over for dinner and play some video games (so he could touch you, poke your sides to make you trip up and pinch your nose when you end up losing to him) or watch a movie (so he could hear you laugh)

you were supposed to be all his. but instead you reassure him that you'll be back in a second.

and katsuki's antsy and so annoyed his skin prickles, but he swallows it down and drags his feet towards the gates as he waits, like hell he'll leave you alone with some limp dick bastard.

he did feel better when you said you rejected the loser, and he felt much better when you still ended up spending the afternoon with him. but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

valentine's day and such was so fucking stupid in katsuki's eyes. but maybe you liked it ? you never cared much for romance outside of those stupid rom-coms you like, but maybe there was more to it.

katsuki couldn't admit it to himself then, but he hates the holidays because there's a whole day for him to grow some balls and ask you out. and yet he couldn't fucking do it.

until his first year at u.a. and you hand him a box of chocolates.

dark chocolate, you specified. "since i know you don't really like sweets all that much." you said. the slight tremble in your voice made him swallow harshly. it felt different than the chocolates you'd handed out to your classmates earlier (which he was absolutely not jealous about. at all.) and the sheer size of the box compared to the little baggies you'd handed spoke too.

these were different. these were just for him.

his bag feels extra heavy when he walks home that day, and he's never loved chocolate more than the day you'd made some just for him.

"the chocolates weren't bad." was all he'd texted you (he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk to you properly on the phone that day lest you heard the shakiness in his voice.) but he knew what he needed to do.

and a few months later, white day rolls around and katsuki still thinks it sucks. it's a stupid holiday. but he spent the entire day making these stupid holiday chocolates for you. and his ears burn when he tells you that he only made these for you, because you're the only one he cares about enough to make some stupid chocolates for on a holiday he hates.

and you smile, so bright and pretty and so you. and katsuki feels like he's on top of the world when you shyly kiss his cheek, your hand in his grip on your way home.

he guessed he'll have to tell his mom about this..and maybe think about thanking her.

the day katsuki plans to propose to you, it rains.

and not even regular rain, a fucking downpour.

and due to prior experiences and feelings he’s had since childhood, he fucking hates rain.

but you love it. when you were kids you loved jumping in puddles and during morning time, you were drowsier and more prone to falling asleep when it was raining. when you got older, you'd always gasp happily when it started to rain, even though katsuki scoffed every time you did, mean mugging the window. he'd asked you what you liked about rain every year you were together, because it was cold, it made the ground sloshy and slippery and it made his quirk basically obsolete when he was younger and harder to use the older he got. there was absolutely nothing fun about that. and you'd always tell him the same exact thing.

"i like it 'cus i just do." you'd respond simply. he always raised a brow at you, but let it be. he couldn't change your mind about it and that was it.

with his proposal plans down the gutter, you're cuddling bed. you yawn in his arms, the tapping against the window putting you at ease. katsuki can admit it's not ear grating, but he'd much rather it just—not rain at all. and he wishes that so much more now, stupid fucking rain..ruining his fucking plans to fucking marry you..

"why do you like this shit so much ?" he asks you the question he's been asking you for years now as you lay against his warm chest. he doesn't mean to do it, only realising he's been asking you this practically all his life after the fact. and it makes him realise how long you've been together when you calmly respond the way you always have, cheekily smiling up at him.

you stick your tongue out at him "i like it 'cus i just do."

oh. fuck.

katsuki doesn't know exactly why that sets him off. maybe because the fact you've been together for two decades makes him emotional. maybe it's because throughout all these years your answer hasn't changed and you haven't changed and your feelings haven't changed for him. you still smile up at him, you did when you were kids when he'd asked you to be his wife with those cheap ring pops he'd begged his mom to buy. you did in middle school even when he thought you had a crush on izuku for a while and it made him act in such an embarrassing way he doesn't want to remember it, but he does anyway. you smiled up at him when he'd asked you out with the chocolates he'd spend hours working on, making them perfect for you. and when he'd told you to just move in with him because "you're basically here all the time anyway."

you've always been there, and he's always loved you. since the day you'd mesmerised him so much at six years old he had to talk to his mom about you.

katsuki absolutely fucking hates rain, and he doubts that'll change anytime soon, and it ruined his perfect proposal. but he can't hear the rain in his ears anymore when he abruptly flips you onto your back to kiss you. all he hears in the tiny giggles you let out when he smacks three wet kisses onto your lips before diving in for a longer one. i love you, they say. he can only hear your fingers sneaking into his hair and scratching at his scalp and the happy sigh you let out when he runs his tongue across your lips.

"m'breath stinks," you mumble drowsily, katsuki grumbles, pulling away just far enough to tell you "i don't give a fuck." and diving in again. you squeal in surprise. it's all he hears.

"fuckin' love you." he grunts against your lips, you hum, briefly able to pull away to catch your breath to tell him you love him too, and pulling him closer to you, the rustling of your sheets, yours and his, is all he hears.

"yeah ? you love me ?" he whispers, going to nibble at your ear. he's all over you, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck and you giggle, "mhm, love you." you sigh.

"fuck.." he breathes again, bringing his face back up to yours he presses his forehead to yours "fuck—so," he places another kiss to your lips, he gulps "so marry me."

and then you blink at him "what ?" you breathe heavily, softly chuckling. and the rapid beating of his heart is all he hears, but then your eyes go glossy and you whisper, voice broken and wobbly "..what ?"

he huffs to himself, his hands search for yours and intertwine when he finds them. like the day he'd pulled you over to his mom so he could ask her to let you come over to play at his house. like when you'd offered it to him when he took you to prom and you looked more beautiful than he could ever utter. he wonders how you'd look during your wedding. he's thought about it more times than he can count.

he takes a deep breath, not pulling away "i wasn't supposed to tell you like this, fuckin rain.." he scoffs. "but—fuck, i just—you've always been there, always been with me. since i was a snot nosed fuckin' brat and at times were you shoulda left my ass." he's forgotten the shit he wanted to say, simply blurting out what's on his mind. he feels a little bad, because kirishima had helped him with his speech, but his heart beats too hard to care.

"but m'glad you didn't. m'glad you didn't before and i'm glad you haven't now 'cus i love you so fuckin' much." you let out a giggle mixed with a little sob at his constant nervous cursing and it makes him smile lightly too.

"i know there are times where i've been a pretty shit boyfriend but..but i mean it, y'know ?" he sniffs a bit, and you shake your head "you've never been a shit boyfriend, suki. just a bit of a pain in my ass sometimes," you giggle but your eyes are overflowing with tears. he chuckles and fights back tears of his own with a sniffle again.

"yeah, major pain..but even still i—when i told you i wanted you to be my wife back when we were kids, i meant it. an' when that fuckin loser tried to ask you out on valentines day in middle school, i wanted to knock his fuckin' teeth in." he smirks, and you try to hide your laugh with a gasp "wanted to tell him you were mine."

"you're such a baby. i remember how pouty you were about it."

" i wasn't pouty," he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn't disappear. he wipes away a tear about to roll down your cheek before you can get his your shirt sleeve wetter then it already is "you could've just told me back then," you whisper, holding onto the hand on your cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. katsuki feels his heart swell.

"i should've told you a lot of shit back then," he laments. he remembers when shigaraki put holes in him and the constant flashes of you on his mind. when he woke up in the hospital and you'd been there and he just couldn't tell you those three words. he'd figured that since you were both alive, he could tell you later when shit was less..messy.

except shit kept getting messier, and then when katsuki blew a hole into his heart he'd wished he could've told you how much he loved you.

but then he had gotten another chance, another chance to be with you. to be the best damn boyfriend in the world like he'd promised you he'd be, to make you happy, and he didn't care if shit got even messier, he didn't care to be scared. when he woke up with his mom and dad, a doctor and you. everything else blurred in his mind and despite your runny nose and your mix of how much you'd missed him and how worried you were but also scolding him on how much of a dummy he was, katsuki couldn't help but smile.

his mom still teases him about how the first words that he'd blurted out after waking up from his operation getting chastised by doctors were "fuck, i love you."

"but, i won't regret not telling you shit anymore. i won't wait any longer either," he kicks out of the sheets, reaching for the lowest drawer of his nightstand to pull out a little red box, grabbing you with him and placing you down right in front of him. he kneels down on one knee, like when he used to tie your shoelaces for you because you didn't know how to, and how he does to this day because 'you want to crack your head against the side walk so bad, but i don't wanna see that shit.'

he grabs your hand, and with a wobbly voice asks you "will you marry me ?"

and finally, katsuki stops hearing his own heart beat and hears the gentle tapping of the rain, still pouring, but it puts him slightly at ease when you nod and squeal out a 'yes !'

<33

[lilislegacy]

hazel: percy and annabeth just have the most beautiful relationship

piper: i know! they are SO in love

frank: and they are always so on the same page

leo: and their relationship is so mature

*meanwhile*

percy and annabeth outside the cabin fighting over who gets to talk to sally on the phone first:

[moonieee]

A fanart of one of my favourite fluff bingyuan fanfic: Green Shadows by Zarasu on ao3 🌼✨️

“What?” Shen Yuan asked, a little breathlessly.

The boy pointed his chubby finger at the book in Shen Yuan’s lap. “What are you doing?”

“Oh.” Shen Yuan looked down at the book. “I’m, hm…” He threw another look at the boy. Maybe the other boy would be interested in playing with him? “I’m an explorer!”

The other boy’s smile faded and he looked at Shen Yuan intensely. “I thought you were a human?”

In which a oneshot fanfic where Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe were childhood friends.

Notes: Holy shit i was so eepy when i post this and when i woke up, i realized from yall that i linked the wrong fics lol 🧍‍♀️ Anyway, i updated it thx u everyone who notify me abt it 💀 lmaooo

[lilacgaby]

thinking of childhood friends to lovers with katsuki :(

you and him who's parents were close friends in high school and got pregnant at the same time.

the photos of you two as little babies, dressed up in matching outfits courtesy of his fashion designer parents.

having playdates and sleepovers every other weekend, the two of you clung to each other as you moved around his little playroom, katsuki pouting whenever you had to leave.

the first day of kindergarten together, holding hands as your parents fussed over the two of you, taking photos as the two of you walked in together, choosing spots next to each other always. you thinking he was so cool for his quirk, and him vying for your affection without even realizing it.

even in his middle school years, he'd get so upset when he even thought about the other guys who had a crush on you, he'd t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶ talk to them and let them know that you were taken already.

and when he entered U-A and finally confessed his feelings to you, so relieved to know you felt the same.

and getting married as proheroes, with your parents talking about how you two were destined to be together </3

[witchywithwhiskey]

first and last

pairing: childhood best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: after more than a decade away from your home town—and your childhood best friend—you return. everything is exactly the same, but also, entirely different.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, angst, smut, drunken antics, some arguing, drunk masturbation (f) with an audience, semi-public, choking, dirty talk, praise kink, begging, boundaries, very light bdsm vibes, references to past sexual intimacy (piv sex, oral sex [f receiving]), nicknames (buttercup, baby), aftercare

word count: 8.8k

a/n: this is my entry in @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar Challenge, and i've been working on it since june so i'm very excited to post it!!! i wanted to make a sundae i'd actually eat so i used the prompts Butterscotch (childhood friends) and Caramel (drunk/delirious/not in their right mind). it also might be a bit literal to have Steve working at an ice cream shop but whatever!!

i mentioned when i teased this fic that i'd thought about turning it into a much longer story/potentially saving it for a novel, but honestly i just don't know when or if i'll ever have time to do that. but these scenes don't necessarily follow right after each other, so if they feel disconnected, that's why. they're just the ones i wanted to write 😅

The sidewalk of Brambleberry Cove was warm from a full day under the August sun, the concrete gritty with sand beneath your bare feet as you walked the rest of the short distance to Seaside Scoops from your rental house a few blocks away. 

The sun dipped low on the western horizon, casting long shadows over the coastal town like stretching fingers reaching for the Atlantic Ocean. You could hear the steady sound of the crashing waves over the near distant sand dunes, their rhythm a background to your walk. 

It could’ve been a peaceful moment—you were back in your home town, surrounded by familiar sights and sounds and smells. But you were in a wretched mood, and all you could focus on was everything wrong with the world and your current place in it.

There was, of course, the throbbing pain in your big toe from when you’d stubbed it moments ago on the cursed, charming sidewalk, as well as the slight sting on the sides of your foot where your flip flop straps had torn. Your ruined shoes dangled from your fingers because Brambleberry Cove didn’t have a trash can on every street corner like the city you were accustomed to living in. 

In addition to those grievances, the straps of your bathing suit—which you hadn’t worn in far too long and hadn’t realized had become too small—were digging into your shoulders and hips uncomfortably. And, though you’d only been walking for five minutes from the little bungalow you were renting, your thighs were already beginning to chafe beneath the simple dress you’d thrown on. 

All told, you were not in the mood to appreciate the simple beauty of Brambleberry Cove. Instead of admiring the sun-bleached cottages that gave way to the small coastal shops lining main street, and letting yourself sink into the comfort of being back in your tiny beachside home town, you were fixated on everything wrong in your life—both in that moment and the larger scheme of things.

In your defense, though, there was a lot wrong in your life. There’d had to be to get you back to your home town after so long away. 

There was the dream job you’d lost, the ex who’d left you for someone else, and the friends who’d all promised to be there for you, but then vanished when you actually needed help. The only people who’d come through for you were your parents, who’d had a friend willing to rent a little Brambleberry Cove bungalow to you for a fraction of its normal summer price since it was already August and they weren’t going to make much more money anyway. 

You’d had to pack up and leave the city where you’d built your life for 15 years, and move back to your home town, which you hadn’t seen in nearly that long since your parents had moved out west shortly after you’d graduated high school. Being back home made you feel like you weren’t only taking a single step backward, but moving leaps and bounds in the wrong direction. It made you feel like a failure. 

But you tried not to think about all that on your short walk to Seaside Scoops, instead focusing on the pain in your toe and the digging ache of your bathing suit. 

By the time you saw the familiar neon sign for the ice cream shop, it felt like finding an oasis in the desert. You picked up your pace, ignoring the way your body protested, the soles of your feet no longer used to walking on the sandy sidewalk like you’d done countless times growing up in Brambleberry Cove. 

You could see through the window that there was a short line in Seaside Scoops, and you hurriedly pushed through the door of the shop. Once inside, you breathed in the familiar scent of sugar and hot fudge and reveled in the feel of the air conditioner ghosting over your sun-warmed shoulders. 

Surreptitiously, you shoved your ruined flip flops into the garbage just inside the door and got in line behind the couple with their two small children. You glanced around the shop, not really taking it in, and hoped whoever was working behind the counter was still lax on the ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ rule that had theoretically been in place since before you were born—but had never been enforced in practice. 

Finally looking to the counter, wondering idly if you’d recognize who was working or if it’d be some local teen that had been a baby the last time you’d been to Brambleberry Cove, you were shocked to see who was working at Seaside Scoops. Your belly swooped like you were standing on a boat on the choppy sea, your heart racing when you recognized the man behind the counter. At one time, he’d been the boy you’d shared so much of your childhood with, so many of your summers with. 

When you got a good look at him, you were almost surprised you recognized him so fast. He was no longer the scrawny teenager you’d left behind when you’d gone off to college and never looked back. He looked so different from the boy you’d known well enough you could recall his face in perfect detail, but, in so many ways, exactly the same.

On the whole, it was a shock to see the man Steve Rogers had become. 

Sandy brown hair fell on either side of his handsome, suntanned face, swept back like he had a habit of running his hands through it countless times a day. A short, well-kept beard decorated his strong jaw, bracketing a set of soft pink lips that were curved in a devastating grin. His bright blue eyes sparkled beneath the fluorescent lights of the shop, and when he spoke to the family in front of you in line, his voice rumbled like the distant roar of the ocean.

Seeing Steve Rogers for the first time in over 15 years made something loosen in your chest, anxiety uncoiling from around your heart and shaking free for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety and comfort washed over you, and you had the sudden thought that this was how you were supposed to feel about coming home. 

But you shoved that thought aside and continued your perusal of your childhood best friend, making note of all the ways he’d changed from the boy you’d known.

Thick, golden biceps were bare and bulging beneath the edge of his white t-shirt, and dense, brown hair covered corded forearms as Steve folded his arms on top of the ice cream case. He was tall—tall enough to lean over the case to talk to the kids with the couple in front of you, asking them about their favorite ice cream flavors and if they’d like to try anything new.

The kids, a boy and a girl, both stared up at him with wide eyes, shyness and wonder clear in their twin expressions. They looked to their parents for permission before shyly revealing what flavors they’d like to try. Steve gave a deep, hearty chuckle at their timidness, and complimented them on their choices, which seemed to make them both loosen up a bit.

Inexplicable heat flushed through your body at the sound of Steve’s deep laughter, and the easiness with which he interacted with the kids. You’d never been particularly good with children, mainly because you’d never had much of a chance to interact with any, and you’d never felt any particular desire to be around them. But seeing Steve looking like he did talking to those kids made your belly swoop again and something inside you pulse with a need you didn’t want to fully unpack.

Shoving those thoughts into a box in the back corner of your mind, you forced yourself to look away from your childhood friend and up at the menu that listed all the ice cream flavors. You’d been to Seaside Scoops hundreds of times in your life, if not thousands, and, at one time, you’d had the list memorized. 

Hopefully you still had that knowledge tucked away somewhere in your brain, because you weren’t taking in anything you were reading as you not-so-patiently waited for Steve to finish up with the customers in front of you.

It felt like forever, and by the time the family took their cups and cones of ice cream toward the side door that opened up into an outdoor seating area, you’d already cycled through three rounds of the same argument with yourself about why you should leave Seaside Scoops without talking to Steve. You couldn’t imagine your first conversation in 15 years going well.

But you couldn’t leave without talking to him. Not when he was right there and it had been so long and you were dying to know everything that he’d done in the last 15 years since you saw him last. 

Still, it took you a few extra seconds to gather the courage to lower your eyes from the menu board and finally look at your childhood friend. When you did, your gaze caught immediately on Steve’s, and your heart gave a little flip at the devastatingly charming smile on his impossibly handsome face.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, his tone as friendly and familiar as it had always been. All of a sudden, it felt like no time had passed at all. 

“Hi, Steve,” you said, trying for the same casualness he’d achieved, but your voice sounded faint and faraway in your ears. The corners of your mouth flickered in a tremulous smile.

You couldn’t understand the surge of emotion filling your chest and rising in your throat, pricking at the backs of your eyes like you wanted to throw yourself into your oldest friend’s arms and sob about everything wrong in your life. 

The same deluge of emotion had hit you when you’d stubbed your toe on your walk to Seaside Scoops and you’d had to stand there by yourself, sucking in deep breaths of salty Brambleberry Cove air, nails biting into the flesh of your palms to keep yourself from breaking down. 

Just as you’d done then, you beat back the emotion, blinking your eyes rapidly to rid them of tears. Still, a thought needled you as you stood across the counter from Steve—the knowledge that if you did let yourself break down and cry, he wouldn’t hesitate to fold you into that broad chest of his, wrapping you up in his thick arms and holding you so securely, the world might not seem so grim anymore. 

You chalked it up to nostalgia and the rough time you were having, forcing yourself to take a deep breath and paste on a bright smile. Casting your eyes around Seaside Scoops, you pretended to give the place a real look, though you didn’t really notice much as you continued to blink back tears. 

“You work here now?” you asked lightly, looking at the new standee in the corner.

It was a cartoon shark holding up a sign advertising Seaside Scoops and their many ice cream flavors. But what caught your eye was that it looked a bit like the shark Steve had drawn for you when you’d gotten a bad grade sophomore year and wanted to cheer you up. It even had the same little sailor hat sitting perched on top of his head—which only made sense because sharks didn’t have blowholes, he’d told you at the time.

You’d smiled then, and you smiled again remembering it.

“Uhh,” Steve started, and you turned tear-free eyes back on your old friend, your gaze drawn to the way his bicep bulged against the sleeve of his t-shirt as he scuffed the back of his neck. There was a little bit of a sheepish tinge to his smile. “I actually own Scoops now,” he said in a rush, like he was confessing to something, though you couldn’t imagine what. “I bought it when Mr. Wallace retired down to Florida.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say, glancing around the ice cream shop with a keener eye.

The shark standee wasn’t the only new thing in the place. Everything, from the tables and chairs to the menu board and counter, looked slightly newer than you remembered. Nothing was wildly different, which was why you hadn’t noticed it when you first looked around. Everything just looked better than it should if it had aged a decade since you’d last stepped into the shop.

Something about it made you think Seaside Scoops looked exactly like your memory of it—but the polished, perfect version in your head, instead of the place as it had been. Yellowed with age and a lack of upkeep. It was genuinely astounding what Steve had done with the place and it took you a few moments to find the right words, though they still felt pale in comparison to the bittersweet nostalgia in your heart.

“The place looks great,” you said with a half smile as you turned back to Steve. A small thread of pride wormed through your heart at seeing what your oldest friend had accomplished and your smile widened when he brightened under your praise. “I like the shark,” you said, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the standee. 

A bit of pink tinted Steve’s cheeks above his beard, and he cleared his throat. 

“Is a dipped twist still your favorite?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject and your smile dimmed just a little. The Steve you’d known had been shy about showing his art to anyone but you, and it seemed that you’d been gone long enough to be lumped in with everyone else. 

You swallowed back a lump in your throat and nodded. “Yeah, that’s still my favorite,” you answered, more than a little surprised Steve remembered your order.

Sure, you’d gone to Seaside Scoops together countless times as kids. It had been your hangout spot for most of your childhood, and even into your teen years. You’d study together over a cup of cookie dough with sprinkles for Steve and a cone of vanilla and chocolate softserve dipped in chocolate sauce for you. But that was more than a decade ago.

Your heart gave a heavy squeeze when you remembered the night before you’d left Brambleberry Cove, the way Steve reminded you of the promise you’d made as children—that you’d always be friends. Your stomach twisted into knots as you were confronted with the reality that you hadn’t kept up your end of the deal. You’d left, and you’d allowed your oldest friend to become a stranger. 

You wondered if Steve remembered the promise you’d made, the reminder he’d given you as a parting gift, or if he’d forgotten. You wondered if he’d ever want to be friends again.

Steve’s back was to you, his wrist flicking expertly beneath the softserve machine as he filled up a sugar cone with the twist of chocolate and vanilla. You forced yourself to push aside the memories of the past, blinking back more tears before Steve could catch them in your eyes. 

You and Steve weren’t friends anymore, and you needed to accept that. It was unreasonable to hold him to a promise he’d made more than two decades ago, especially when you were the one who’d left and had barely tried to stay in touch between college classes and exploring your new city.

With a great amount of effort, you kept your mind blissfully blank as you let your gaze trail idly over Steve’s broad back, unable to stop yourself from noticing just how wide his shoulders were, or the way they moved beneath the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt. He really did fill out the shirt well, his sides tapering down to a thin waist. And his ass looked particularly good in the curve-hugging denim of his jeans. 

As Steve turned around, you raised your eyes quickly and arranged your expression into one of innocence. Steve paused, giving you a shrewd look like he would’ve done when you were teenagers and you were hiding something from him, but then he just shook his head and laughed under his breath, turning to the chocolate sauce where he’d dip your ice cream cone. 

“So, what brings you back to Brambleberry Cove, buttercup?” Steve asked, his gaze focusing on dipping your ice cream just right, a look of determination on his face that was endlessly endearing. 

You grimaced at the exact moment he glanced up at you, and he chuckled at the face you made. The sound was smooth as warm caramel and sent a new wave of heat rolling down your spine. 

“That bad, huh?” he asked, genuine interest in his tone.

Although there was a point in your life when you could’ve told Steve anything, and the urge to do so still lingered deep in your bones, you knew your relationship was different. You couldn’t dump all your problems on your childhood friend after not talking to him for 15 years. You didn’t even know if you were still friends anymore. 

Plus, there was a small crowd gathering behind you as the late dinner rush started to filter into Seaside Scoops. Even if you’d wanted to tell Steve everything that had happened to you in the 15 years since you’d last seen him, it wasn’t the time. 

So you just gave him a sad smile and accepted the ice cream cone from Steve’s hand, ignoring the butterflies and ticklish warmth that fluttered through your body at his touch. You gripped the sugar cone tight—but not too tight—so you didn’t fumble it. 

“Yeah,” you whispered in answer to his question, leaving it at that. There was an awkward beat, and your eyes dropped to the ice cream that was already beginning to melt despite the air conditioning in the shop. Thankfully, you had an easy way to move past Steve’s questions. 

You pulled some cash from the wristlet where you’d also stashed your phone and I.D., asking, “What do I owe you?” because you figured it must’ve been more expensive than what you remembered. And you didn’t want to risk looking up at the menu and catching Steve’s eye, not wanting any of the emotions or heat that seemed to flood you whenever you looked at him.

But a large, warm, golden hand closed over your fumbling fingers, startling you enough to look up into the sky blue eyes of your childhood friend. Your lips fell open in surprise as tingling warmth worked its way up your arm from your hand, wrapping around your heart and making it beat harder. 

For a long moment, you simply stared at each other. Steve really had grown up and changed so much, the evidence in the weathered grooves of his forehead and the lines between his brows, but his eyes still looked the same—soft as clouds, warm as the summer sun. 

“It’s on the house,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest, the thrum of some emotion you couldn’t identify laced through his words. “It was nice to see an old friend,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze before he pulled his away.

It wasn’t until Steve straightened up to his full height that you realized he’d been leaning over the counter, and your faces had been very close together. Heat crept into your cheeks at the realization that Steve had been in your personal space, and all you’d thought about was his eyes. 

Shoving all the money in your hand into the tip jar, you muttered, “Thanks, Steve.” As you zipped up your wristlet, you noticed that some of your ice cream was in danger of dripping onto your hand.

Without thinking, you licked quickly around the edge of the sugar cone, a soft moan slipping free when the cool sweetness of the ice cream hit your brain.

Steve made a strangled sound that dragged your attention away from your treat, finding your childhood best friend looking away and coughing into his fist, a deeper pink flushing his cheeks. You quirked your eyebrow in confusion when he looked back at you, but his expression gave nothing away and you had to wonder if you’d imagined the noise. It had almost sounded…aroused.

Shaking that thought clear from your mind, you gave Steve a smile and began to step away from the counter so he could help the next customer.

Steve’s eyes lingered on you, and he offered you one last charming, friendly smile, raising his hand in a wave. “Don’t be a stranger, buttercup,” he rumbled, his low words managing to reach your ears over the chatter in the shop. He gave you a long look, emotion swirling in those familiar eyes of his, and your breath caught in your throat.

The intensity of his gaze and the warmth in his parting words hit you straight in the gut, and you stood stunned in front of the register while Steve turned and walked to the other end of the ice cream case to help the next people in line. 

For a long moment, you couldn’t get over the way Steve had been able to read your mind, to pluck the thought that you were strangers to each other out of your brain and then tell you he didn’t want that to be the case. Your mind raced with questions. Did he still think of you as friends? Did he remember the promise you’d made all those years ago to always be friends? How did he know the exact right thing to say? 

But then the rational side of your brain resurfaced from wherever your heart had momentarily buried it, and you remembered his farewell was a normal thing for people to say to each other. Especially people who hadn’t seen each other in a while and likely would again because they both lived in a very small town. That’s all it was, just a normal goodbye. 

Not Steve Rogers somehow reading your mind because he knew you so well. 

With those rationalities ringing in your head, you dashed out of Seaside Scoops and it wasn’t until your feet had carried you to the next block that you remembered your broken shoes and stubbed toe and chafed thighs. 

But those problems didn’t seem quite so bad anymore. Not with the delicious ice cream cone in your hand, and the sunset casting Brambleberry Cove in gorgeous, golden light—and especially not with Steve’s warm, honeyed voice ringing in your head, calling you buttercup. 

It had felt so normal to hear the nickname roll off Steve’s tongue that you hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’d last heard it. But, just as it had when you were younger, it filled your chest with a bright, golden warmth. You grinned to yourself as you strolled back to your little bungalow, licking up the melting ice cream as fast as you could.

Your mood was decidedly better, and you enjoyed the walk home, refusing to think too much about why exactly you felt lighter and happier and less miserable about being home in Brambleberry Cove than you had before going to Seaside Scoops. It was just the ice cream, obviously. There was no other reason.

“You’re staring.” Steve’s voice was low, the undercurrent of laughter in it almost mixing with the sounds of the distant waves. You could hear them through the open windows of his truck as he eased the vehicle down the winding road leading away from the docks on the north side of Brambleberry Cove. 

His comment dragged you out of your drunken haze, and you took a deep breath to get your bearings. Your lungs filled with the salty nighttime air of the sea and the earthy leather interior of your childhood best friend’s truck, a small smile curling the corners of your lips and your eyes sliding closed. When you forced them back open, you realized he was right.

Huh, you really were staring at Steve. 

Your head was swiveled to the side, your cheek pressed to the brown leather of the seat back, your eyes fixed on the profile of his face that was highlighted in the glossy silver of the moon and warmed by the golden light of the town’s street lamps. 

You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed or ashamed for staring at Steve, though. And it was at that moment you realized you were drunk. 

It didn’t surprise you. After all, you were the one who’d thrown on some jean shorts and a cute top and then took yourself to Shanty’s, the only place in Brambleberry Cove to go if you were a local looking to avoid tourists. 

You’d been happy to see Bucky Barnes, your other oldest friend after Steve, manning the bar. But you’d been much less happy with him when he’d insisted on calling Steve to take you home after you’d downed more than your fair share of liquor. 

It was probably for the best, though. You were drunk and horny and if you weren’t careful, you would’ve gone home with Brock Rumlow. Just thinking about it made you grimace at yourself and your poor almost-decisions. 

Focusing back on Steve, you couldn’t fault Bucky too much for calling your old friend to pick you up—not when it had ended with you able to watch his side profile while he kept his eyes on the road. It felt practically shameful to indulge yourself so much. That is, if you’d had any shame left, but you’d drowned it all in alcohol.

“You’re still staring, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, the humor clearer in his tone. The edges of his mouth were flickering beneath the silvery golden light of Brambleberry Cove at night and you knew he was trying to suppress a smile. It was fascinating to watch, but then Steve rubbed his hand across his mouth, scrubbing through his beard, and it broke you free of your drunken trance.

“I just can’t get over how different you look,” you huffed, raising your arms and flopping them back against the seat in your best approximation of a shrug. “And how exactly the same.” 

Steve barked a laugh, the sharp sound bringing a smile instantly to your face. You’d never heard him laugh like that, and you couldn’t help but love that you were still discovering new things about him, even after knowing him all your life. 

He glanced over at you, his expression bemused like he was sure you were drunker than he’d thought. You probably were, but that didn’t stop you from being right, and you tried to convey that in the brief moment he looked at you. 

Steve’s gaze slid quickly down your body, not like he was checking you out—more like he was checking to make sure your seatbelt was still buckled and you weren’t in danger of doing anything ridiculous. You were only in danger of saying ridiculous things, at least, according to him apparently. He shook his head after he’d turned back to watching the road.

“You’re gonna have to explain that one to me, buttercup,” Steve said, a little bit of gruffness in his tone. He cleared his throat before he went on. “Usually when someone we went to high school with comes back, they tell me they never woulda recognized me.” 

You gave an unladylike snort, drawing another surprised laugh out of Steve before he bit off the sound to let you speak.

“Well those people should have their eyes checked,” you muttered scornfully, pushing yourself up from where you’d been slumped against the warm leather seat. You twisted your body in your seat so you were facing Steve, your eyes tracing the lines of his face from across the cab. “You still have the same eyes,” you pointed out vehemently, as if Steve was arguing with you, even though he wasn’t. “And your nose still has that little bump in it, and your lips are still so soft and full…”

You trailed off, realizing far too late that you were saying your inside thoughts out loud. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you watched Steve as he processed what you’d said—the way his fingers scratched a little nervously at his beard, those twin lines forming between his brows. Your gazed traced every curve and line and divot in his face, examining his expression, wanting to memorize it and save it for the rest of your life. 

“I don’t think any of those people noticed those things,” Steve murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the slight breeze drifting through the windows while he drove through town. 

Your heart lurched at the implication of Steve’s words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take them back, even if they were dangerously close to revealing something you hadn’t even had the courage to admit to yourself yet. 

Instead, you focused on your anger at the hypothetical people who weren’t recognizing Steve just because he’d grown up, gotten tall, gotten buff, grown out his hair and his beard and looked altogether very different to the skinny teenager he’d been.

“If they didn’t see those things, they didn’t really see you,” you muttered to yourself, indignant on Steve’s behalf, but trying to keep it to yourself. Apparently, you weren’t good at moderating the volume of your voice, because Steve snorted at your remark. 

“No, no one ever saw me as well as you did, buttercup,” Steve said, his voice low and warm, and your heart promptly rioted in your chest. 

There was something so dizzyingly wonderful about hearing Steve say such intimate words to you in that deep, caramel voice of his, genuine affection shining through his tone. It took your breath away for a moment, and your brain short-circuited. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him…something. The thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself yet. But you were still you, and your brain tripped at the last moment, and instead you blurted, “Do you ever think about our first time?”

Steve choked on a snort, his eyes darting to you with honest surprise. You couldn’t blame him. You’d had no idea those words were gonna spill from your mouth until they were out, but you supposed they weren’t as bad as what you’d almost confessed, so you didn’t try to take them back or change the topic of conversation. You waited with bated breath for Steve’s response, and whether he remembered your night together when you were both 18.

When he saw you were anticipating his answer, he spluttered, “You mean when I came three seconds after getting inside you?” 

You began to smile, because he remembered, but then Steve continued talking.

“Y’know, I told Bucky about that once,” he said, his eyes fixed so fully on the road that you got the impression he didn’t want to meet your gaze and your stomach plummeted. “I was drunk, and didn’t know if it really counted as sex. Bucky was no help, of course—he said he didn’t know either since it was so quick.” 

Something new was swirling in your gut, and for long moments you could only sit there on the warm leather of the truck and stew in that hot, feral feeling. It must’ve showed on your face because, when Steve finally looked over at you after you’d been quiet for so long, the truck lurched forward, his foot pressing too hard to the gas.

“Don’t worry,” he rushed to say, guessing at what was upsetting you and guessing wrong. “I didn’t tell him it was with you.”

“Don’t you dare,” you snarled, the words bursting out of you with a ferocity you’d never used in your life, let alone when talking to Steve. But you were furious all of a sudden, and it wasn’t until the words were spilling from your mouth that you understood why you were so angry. “Don’t you dare try to take this away from me, Steven Grant Rogers.” Your voice was seething and barely recognizable, but you couldn’t stop. “You were my first, and it was perfect—because it was you.” 

Steve glanced over at you, something like shock written across his face, but when he looked back at the road, his brows settled low over his eyes. The muscle in his jaw popped and you knew he was grinding his teeth together, taking his time to gather his thoughts before he spoke. It took him a long moment to respond.

“You deserved better.”

The noise of your scoff was loud, even to your ears, and you strained against the seatbelt still buckling you into the passenger seat as you leaned toward your childhood friend.

“You ate me out until I came three times, Steve!” you cried, holding up three fingers as if the adult man your friend had grown into somehow didn’t know how many three was. “No man has ever made me come so many times in one night as you did then.” 

When Steve still didn’t look at you, just kept driving with his hands gripping the wheel and the muscle in his jaw popping, you huffed an exasperated sound and flopped back into your seat. Your back was to the leather as you crossed your arms over your chest and stared out at Brambleberry Cove through the open passenger side window. 

The silence grew until it was suffocating, and you needed to break it. So you said the first thing that came to mind. Again.

“You’re who I think about when I touch myself, Steve.” Your words drifted from your side of the truck to the other, carried on the light breeze floating through the cab. “I think about you and that night, and it gets me off every single time.”

Steve made a strangled kind of sound, like a growl that was torn free from his throat against his will. Then he was quiet, and he was quiet for so long, you thought that was the only reaction you’d get to admitting the truth. Until…

“I think about you, too, buttercup.”

The confession hung in the air between you, settling heavily onto the leather bench seat in Steve’s truck, the air rushing in through the open windows buffetting around it. 

You didn’t feel Steve’s admission sink into you. There was simply a before and an after. And in the after, you were moving. You were unbuckling your seatbelt and scooting across the seat toward Steve until your bare knee brushed against the denim of his jeans. 

He shot a startled look in your direction—which, in a distant part of your brain, you registered as completely adorable—before quickly pulling over to the side of the road. He was just throwing the truck into park when you slid into his lap, straddling his thighs and pressing your chest to his. 

“We should do it again,” you purred, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning close. When Steve didn’t respond right away, just kept giving you that surprised look, you thought he might not have understood you, so you explained, “Have sex.”

Steve closed his eyes and a light tremor shuddered through his body as his hands settled respectfully on your waist, a few of his fingers brushing the skin where the edge of your tank top didn’t quite meet the waist of your shorts. Then, it was your turn to shudder, the feeling of his warm, calloused hands against your bare skin making heat flood between your thighs, your core warming and your body melting into your old friend’s hands.

“Please, Steve,” you whispered, tipping your head forward until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his, so close you could taste mint chocolate chip ice cream on his tongue and it took everything in you not to lick into his mouth desperately. Your voice was practically a whine as you went on, “Let’s see if we can do better this time.” 

Steve’s hands shifted to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to almost hurt, and you thought he was going to give in. But then he swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and he pushed you gently away, his head tilting back against the leather seat so your lips no longer teased him with an almost-kiss.

“You’re drunk, buttercup.”

Steve’s voice was a delicious rasp, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of it even as the meaning of his words settled into your drunken mind. You pouted at your childhood friend, hoping the fact that he hadn’t pushed you off his lap entirely meant he wasn’t saying no.

“And horny,” you said, the words slipping from your lips on another whine. Of their own volition, your hips squirmed on your oldest friend’s lap, trying to get closer, trying to find some kind of friction to work against the aching heat pulsing between your thighs. But Steve’s firm grip held you in place. “Stevie.” His name was nothing but a pathetic whimper. 

A low growl rumbled in Steve’s chest, and then one of his hands was abandoning your hip to cup your face, tilting it up so he could loom over you. The lines of his face were hard, stubborn, and the look in his eyes left no room for argument. 

“You know I won’t touch you when you’re drunk,” he bit out, his voice soft, but as firm as his hold on your body.

A memory slammed into you—you and Steve planning your first time together. You’d made a deal at the start of high school that if neither of you lost your virginity through all four years, then before going off to college, you’d lose it together. 

When the time came, you’d been a little nervous, even though it was Steve, and you’d joked that you could take some wine coolers to the beach and get it over with, just like all the other kids in your school. Even then, Steve had looked at you stubbornly, and said, without a shred of willingness to waver, that he wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk.

Back then, it had sent a shiver down your spine, and it had much the same effect more than a decade later in his truck. Your body trembled with arousal, and you pushed feebly against Steve’s hold—not really trying to break it, just enjoying the feeling that came from realizing how strong he was. Those biceps and corded forearms of his weren’t just for show.

“What about just the tip?” you murmured, the words tumbling past your lips before you could think better of them, knowing there was no use trying to argue with Steve when he’d made a decision. But you were clearly thinking with something other than your brain, because the words kept coming. “That’s not sex, just the tip—please, Steve.” You were begging shamelessly, but your shame and embarrassment were still nowhere to be found since you were still definitely drunk.

Steve’s jaw ticked so hard, you could’ve sworn you heard the muscle pop in the quiet of his truck as he ground his teeth together. 

“Buttercup,” he growled, a warning in his tone. “That’s not happening.”

Your fists gathered in the front of Steve’s t-shirt and you yanked on it restlessly, not trying to do anything more than annoy him. “Whyyy,” you whined, drawing out the word until it was nearly a wail. Unslaked heat burned in your blood and, while you knew why he was refusing to have sex with you, in the moment, you couldn’t understand why your oldest friend was torturing you.

Steve’s hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around the front of your throat, and you stilled immediately, something about the possessive, dominant gesture making you calm. That was new, Steve hadn’t done anything like that when you’d first been together, but you liked it more than you would’ve expected. Your lips were still parted, your panting breaths gusting out of them, your heart racing, and you were finally calm and quiet.

Your oldest friend’s eyes roamed over you, taking in your reaction. At first he seemed surprised, but then a glint of something you’d never seen before sparked to life in the depths of his blue eyes. You watched his gaze drop to your mouth, and nearly whimpered at the way the corner of his lips flickered in the ghost of a smirk. But then he fixed his gaze back on yours, pinning you in place with that stubborn look in his eye, though it was slightly dimmed in favor of that new, hungry glimmer. 

“I won’t fuck you only to wake up tomorrow and find out you regret it,” Steve said, enunciating all his words clearly despite the fact that his teeth were grinding together “That you only wanted it because you needed to scratch an itch.” 

Your lungs dragged in a soundless gasp and you finally understood his reticence, even if you couldn’t imagine ever regretting doing anything with Steve. But when you opened your mouth to protest, Steve’s fingers squeezed the sides of your throat. 

Your words died on your tongue, and your mouth went slack, your eyes going hazy with pleasure. You couldn’t have been more obvious that you liked the way Steve choked you if you tried. And he read your enjoyment easily from the expression on your face, that look of hunger sparking brighter in Steve’s eyes before he went on.

“When I fuck you again,” he growled, his words a promise. “I don’t want you drunk on anything but my cock.”

“Stevie,” you whined his nickname again, the name only you were allowed to call him, your lips forming into a pout. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he’d said ‘when’, and not ‘if’, about having sex with you again, but you didn’t want to push your luck. And besides, unslaked need was still burning brightly through your body, consuming most of your focus. “I need…something, please.” You let out a little whimper and squirmed in his lap again, unable to stop yourself.

Steve huffed a laugh, his thumb stroking down the side of your neck, over your thrumming pulsepoint, while the fingers of his other hand slipped half an inch into the waist of your shorts, only far enough to dig harder into your soft curves.  

“I’m not going to touch you more than this, buttercup,” Steve began, his voice a low, delicious rumble that you swore you could feel in the clenching of your core. “But I didn’t say anything about stopping you from touching yourself.”

Your eyes widened in excitement, and you wasted no time in acting on the implication in Steve’s words. Holding his gaze, one of your hands slipped free from his shirt and trailed down your body. When you reached between your thighs, the backs of your fingers brushed against a thick bulge in the front of Steve’s jeans. 

It twitched against your soft touch, and you gasped in delight, loving the proof that Steve’s body recognized you just as much as his mind.

But when you twisted your hand, intent on giving Steve’s bulge a friendly squeeze, his hand darted down from your hips to your wrist, his fingers circling around you and stilling your hand. “Buttercup,” he rumbled, another warning. 

A shiver raced down your spine and you reveled in the way it made you feel to hear Steve say your nickname like that. It occurred to you that it was new—you’d never heard him say it quite like that before, with frustration and arousal flooding his tone. 

You wanted to hear every flavor of your nickname on Steve’s tongue. You wanted to hear him whisper it like a prayer, and groan it into your lips while he kissed you. You wanted to hear Steve shout your nickname while he came with you. 

But the look in Steve’s eyes was stubborn again, and you knew you’d have to wait to hear all the ways he could say your nickname. 

“OK, Steve, ‘m sorry,” you mumbled, twisting your hand in his hold and pressing the tips of your fingers to the seam of your shorts, your hips jerking forward to seek more of the friction you offered yourself. 

Steve’s hold loosened, but he didn’t let go of you entirely, like he didn’t trust you just yet. But you didn’t care, your fingers were pressing into your clit through the thin denim of your shorts, and you were rocking your hips to grind against them, your wetness soaking through your panties almost immediately.

The moment when your fingers found just the right spot, you sucked in a sharp breath, your spine arching and your hips pressing down hard against your hand. Your head tipped back, your eyes narrowing into slits as you held Steve’s gaze. You moaned while you rubbed tight circles against your clit through your shorts.

“I’m going to come embarrassingly fast,” you huffed in warning, your chest heaving already with labored breaths. 

But Steve only smirked, a touch of smugness in the curve of his lips.

“Don’t worry, buttercup, I remember exactly how sensitive your sweet little clit is,” he rumbled, and you moaned loudly. His fingers flexed against your throat, digging in enough to quiet your sounds and making your eyes widen as your hips lurched in their rhythm. He chuckled at your reaction before continuing on.

“I remember sucking on your puffy little pearl, your thighs squeezing my head, my fingers buried deep in your tight, warm hole,” Steve purred, seemingly knowing exactly what to say to drive your pleasure higher. “I remember the exact way your pussy gripped my fingers when you came, like you wanted me deeper—deep enough that you could feel me in your belly.” 

“God, Steve,” you groaned, your head falling back listlessly on your shoulders, too heavy to keep it up. But Steve’s fingers dug into the back of your neck, and you understood the wordless command immediately. You lifted your head and caught your oldest friend’s eye while you kept rubbing your clit, pushing yourself closer to coming apart in his lap. 

“I remember how big your cock felt inside me,” you confessed, spurred on by Steve’s own filthy words. “I remember how long it took for you to sink your thick, fat cock into my tight pussy.” You paused only to take a quick, hitching breath. “I was already so close when you came, and I remember, I thought, maybe if you hadn’t been wearing a condom, maybe I would’ve come, too.” 

The lines of Steve’s face shifted, hardening, his jaw ticking wildly and his eyes going molten fierce, like the blue at the center a campfire that burns too hot to sit near. 

“Don’t fucking say that, buttercup,” Steve growled, his voice gravelly like he was chewing on seashells. “If I hadn’t been wearing a condom, I would’ve come so much faster—I never woulda made it all the way inside you. Woulda been coming with just my tip inside your warm, wet pussy, baby—woulda been too risky, buttercup.” 

Your eyes wanted to fall closed as you moaned, but you didn’t let them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Steve, not with that furious and ferocious hunger in his eyes, his desire for you etched into every single line and curve of his face. 

You were so close. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.

“Fuck, Steve, I know I shouldn’t, but I love the thought of you coming inside me, filling me up, making me yours,” you confessed, the words bubbling up from the very depths of your soul. It was on the tip of your tongue again, that thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself. Instead of letting it free, you moaned, long and loud, your fingers rubbing faster against your clit and your hips grinding against your hand. 

“Christ, baby,” Steve gritted through tightly clenched teeth. His fingers were digging into your hip again, diving further beneath the waist of your shorts, nearly skimming the edge of your panties. His other hand tightened around your throat and dragged you into him, until your face was right in front of his and he could watch every twitch and change in your expression as you pleasured yourself. 

“Come on, baby,” he said, his voice urgent with need. “Come before I do something we’ll both regret.” 

The hand that wasn’t wedged between your thighs pressed to the center of Steve’s chest, just above his heart, and a moment later, you felt his warm palm cover it. He was still holding your throat, his fingers digging into the sides hard enough that you knew he could feel your fluttering pulse beneath his touch. And you could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, the rapid pace nearly matching the frantic one in your chest.

“Come, buttercup, come for me,” Steve commanded, his eyes holding yours. For a moment, it felt like he could see straight into your soul. It was a scorching intimacy you hadn’t felt since that night you’d first been with Steve, and you were helpless to it.

“Stevie,” you cried his name as your pleasure rose up and consumed you, sending you over the edge into a earth-quaking orgasm. Your body writhed in Steve’s lap, your hips grinding gracelessly against your hand as you collapsed forward, leaning into the grip of his hand around your throat. You sobbed your pleasure, the waves of your release wracking your body for long moments.

Eventually, the final swell ebbed and the last of your energy receded with it. Your damp forehead fell against Steve’s cool, dry one and you struggled to catch your breath. His hand slipped from the front of your throat around to the back of your neck and he smoothed it down your spine. 

He held you close, whispering in your ear, “Such a good girl, buttercup, you did so good.”

Once you finally settled, Steve shifted, his beard grazing your lips as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Can I take you home now?” he asked.

You huffed a laugh and slumped against his chest, laying your head sleepily on his shoulder. “I don’t think I can move yet,” you said, slurring your words with tiredness. And drunkenness.

Steve chuckled, but made no attempt to move you. You only felt him lifting his arms around you, though his hands didn’t settle on your body. 

“If you see Sam while you’re back in town, don’t tell him I did this,” Steve murmured in your ear. Then you felt the truck rumbling to life and getting back onto the road and you realized where your oldest friend’s hands were. He was driving you home, with you still sitting boneless in his lap.

When Steve arrived at your rental house, not too long after, he helped you down from his truck and looped an arm around your waist, getting you into the bungalow. Thankfully, you were sated from your release in his truck so you didn’t try to proposition him again, just dutifully did as he said, changing into your pajamas in your bedroom while he waited outside the closed door. 

Then he let you lean against his broad chest while you brushed your teeth and washed your face, before guiding you back to your room and tucking you into bed. Last, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that was so comforting, and made you feel so safe, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft smile curled your lips.

Before he could leave, your hand darted out and grabbed Steve’s wrist with surprising precision given your state and the fact that your eyes were closed. You dragged them open again, blinking away the bleariness until your childhood friend’s face came into focus. 

“I don’t regret anything we’ve done together, Stevie,” you mumbled, the side of your mouth hitching up in a lopsided smile. “I’m glad you were my first.” You lost the battle with your eyes and they fell closed. You also, apparently, lost the fight against biting back your feelings, murmuring sleepily, “I want you to be my last.”  

For a long moment, Steve was quiet. He seemed to wait until you were just on the edge of sleep before responding to your drunken confession. 

“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk, and I’ll believe you, buttercup,” Steve murmured, ducking down to press a kiss to your hand, still wrapped loosely around his wrist, before carefully extricating himself. 

You were snoring before Steve closed and locked the front door of your bungalow behind him. He walked down the short path to his truck, which sat at the curb, a subtle smile on his lips and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

[777heavengirl]

Jolene

James Potter x Reader One-shot ! warnings: childhood friends to lovers, jealousy, fluff, slight sirius x reader for the plot, raw dogging posting bc it has not been looked over by my beta reader whoops! word count: 5,311 masterlist notes: sorry i disappeared for like a week, i started classes— anyway this was born out of me listening to Jolene by Dolly Parton on repeat and realizing it is describing lily enjoy!

Lily Evans was a gorgeous woman. Her emerald green eyes and the milky skin clad in freckles were incomparable. Lily Evans was like the sun, her flaming auburn hair and the mere fact that she was one of the brightest witches in the castle. You knew this quite well, the shine of her hair, the glow of her smile, the softness of her skin. James would never let you forget it. How no one could compete with her. How her beauty was beyond compare.

Yet you couldn't hate her, not how she seemed to know the answer to every question, not how she stood up from the bed neighboring yours looking as radiant as ever, every morning. No, Lily Evans was sweet as honey and the best dormmate you could ask for. You couldn't bring to dislike her even when the man you were sickly in love with raved about her. 

James Potter was a beautiful man. His hazel eyes shined big and bright, the strong curves of his face, the curly black hair that bounced as he laughed, and his warm brown skin. James was the definition of sun-kissed. Your families had always been stuck together like glue, you spent your entire life attached at the hip, growing up next to him was a blessing and a curse. His never-ending joy at life, and the jokes that bounced off of his lips, were enough to turn anyone's day around. His smile was so bright you felt like you were staring at the sun itself. James was like the sun, you could never look at him directly, not for too long. As he grew girls threw themselves at his feet, he became a bit of an arrogant brat, but he always made it clear he only had eyes for one girl.

James Potter was in love with Lily Evans— the most perfect woman in the world.

You were such a fool. 

"Come off it," Lily laughed as she pushed James his body rocking to the side as he also giggled to himself. They had gotten closer the last couple of months, seemingly out of nowhere. You couldn't help but watch pathetically from the couch on the other side of the common room. You wondered what he was saying to her, his hand covering his mouth as he whispered in her ear. Her eyes shone with humor and joy, and so did his although a bit more mischievous, but that was just James. You couldn't help but clench your hands together, nails digging into your flesh.

"You should stop doing that dollface" Your eyes flickered back to Sirius, who leaned over from the back of the couch, his face awfully close to yours. You couldn't help but hold your breath. His nimble fingers took your hand, loosening your grip on it and massaging the half-moon marks on your hand. You went to turn away, Lily's laugh breaking the silence again and calling for your attention but Sirius turned your head towards him with a single finger, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours and something you couldn't see. "Just keep looking at me don't question it-" You could barely hear what he said, but his lips broke into a shit-eating grin, shiny teeth bared at you. And you couldn't help but laugh, slightly out of nervousness, but mostly because Sirius's antics were always ridiculous. Your laughter made his smile widen. 

He placed a small kiss on your temple and said thanks doll, as he let go of your hand and disappeared again. 

"He's ridiculous," Remus barely glanced from his parchment, his feather still grinding his essay away. The slight suspicion of what Sirius was up to crawled its way into Remus’s head as he watched the two of you interact, as he watched James's giggles stop from across the room, distracted.

”You’re not wrong there,” you frowned as you turned back to balancing your book and the essay you had been working on, on your lap. “I wonder what’s gotten into him”

Remus just chuckled without looking up. You didn’t hear Lily’s or James’s giggles again.

-

Sirius had started sitting next to you in every class, often replacing James, waving him off with a sit next to Moony, more often than not. This seemed to push James further into Lily's arms, as he sat next to her, she didn't seem to complain. You weren't loving it. Not that you disliked sitting with Sirius, he was more than competent, against all odds. But still.

 "May I ask what you're playing at Black?" your words were low as your charms professor droned on and on about something you hadn't really been paying attention to. 

"Whatever do you mean sweetheart?" He gave you his familiar toothy grin, eyes dancing with devilishness "Can I not sit next to my dear Y/N? One of the smartest, most beautiful witches our age?" you scrunched your nose, lips suppressing a smile at his antics. "Not to mention one of my best mates?"

"You know what I mean Sirius, you've been awfully touchy lately" His smile widened, and moved his face slightly closer to yours "Not to mention awfully close," this last part came out as a whisper. He really had been close, always a breath away, always pushing his face close to yours. Two nights ago he had smushed himself to read your book along with you, you had been practically cheek to cheek. 

Sirius had always been touchy, he was always resting on someone, sprawled on James’s bed, his legs across Peter’s on the couch, asleep on Remus’s shoulder. But this was a little out of character.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak but the large bell signaling you guys were done echoed through the castle. He broke into a grin again, and grabbed his stuff quickly, shoving papers and quills inside his bag unceremoniously.

“hurry up doll,” he muttered as moved to shove your stuff equally as clumsily into your bag and took a hold of your wrist, dragging you. You pushed by your friends, shooting a look of confusion toward Remus. He smiled at you with a wink, as he walked. 

Sirius finally stopped and you ran into him. 

"For Godric's sake, what is up with you?" You finally got him to let go of your wrist and he closed the door to the empty classroom he had shoved you in. "If this is you trying to seduce me— it definitely isn't working I think we gotta send you to a workshop,"

He snorted as he shook his head, "If anyone is going to a workshop on seducing it's you doll," you crossed your arms and huffed "I'm trying to help you out here-"

"With what Sirius?" 

"Making Prongs jealous duh" he looked at you like you were stupid, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. A small twinkle in his eye caught your eye, it was the type you saw when he was about to make something detonate. Maybe this time he wanted to explode your life.

"You're absolutely bonkers" You couldn't believe what he was saying, as if James would ever be jealous of anyone in respect to you.  

"You fancy him no?" He twirled his wand around, his grey eyes analyzing your facial expressions. You tried your hardest to keep a poker face, trying and failing to not let him see. Sirius had always been a very observant man.

"It's a lost cause, Sirius," you laughed dryly as you thought of it, "she has me beat"

He frowned, "who?"

"Lily, obviously, are you stupid?" he pulled at a piece of your hair at the insult "You've lived with James since we were 11, he's been utterly smitten with her ever since he met her what do you mean who?"

"I think you're the stupid one, they're just friends" You shook your head, a hand going to massage the bridge of your nose as you thought about what he was saying. "yuh huh, Prongs told me so himself"

"And you believed him?" you scoffed "he says he's over her every four months Sirius I didn't peg you as gullible" 

He pulled your hair again and you swatted his hand away. You thought about it, James has said the same thing before, how he's over her once and for all, I, James Potter will be over Lily Evans by the end of the week. It had never worked. Their whispers and their giggles, their closeness over the past couple of months were definitely not friendly. Maybe it was for her but for him? Not a chance.

"I really do think you have a chance with him," his tone was lower now, "I reckon he just needs the right push"

"Sirius even if she isn't into him, even if he didn't like Lily, the most perfect woman on the planet" he frowned "he would still never see me as anything more than what I already am to him," you stared straight into his eyes.

You had thought about it many times of course. You prayed and pleaded to the universe every year that Lily would never reciprocate James's feelings. The second you saw their newfound closeness you felt like dropping to your knees and begging her. Begging her to please Lily don't take him. Lily was a captivating woman, she could easily have her choice in men, and she did, but you felt like you could never love again. You knew it was a lost cause, you had heard her name muttered in his sleep, even when he was napping with his head on your lap. The first time it happened, you hadn't even noticed the tears on your cheeks, nor the ones welled up in your eyes. It had always been clear to you, how easily it would be for her to take him, he wasn't your man. She just had to say yes.

So you cried, time and time again, away from prying or worrying eyes. This was your secret to bear. 

You looked at Sirius again, shaking your head. Sirius could feel droplets of regret settle in his stomach as he saw the tears well up in your eyes. He had never seen you cry. 

“Fat chance Black”

-

James Potter thought the world of you. He knew he could not live without the curve of your face, the way you smiled at him as if you knew something he didn't. He felt like you could see his soul. You always said he smiled that way too. He wondered if this overlapping trait was a byproduct of a childhood spent together. A childhood spent glued at the hip, one of him being your knight in shining armor when you played, a childhood of sticks and stones that he never let your knees touch. His knees were covered in scrapes and scars that would never fade, but something deep within him never allowed him to let the same happen to you. James Potter could not live without you. He couldn't help but watch how Sirius draped himself over you, and how he hurried to sit next to you. He couldn't help but notice the whispers and the giggles. He couldn't, for everything that was sacred, ignore the closeness. And the fact that you let Sirius press his cheek to yours and whisper merely a breath apart. That part had made his stomach turn. 

It wasn't that the two of you weren't close. It was just that James had never seen you be close like that with anybody else. He had spent almost every day of his life by your side. Asleep with your cheeks pressed together, childish limbs all tangled up, you always woke up first and shoved him off the couch. He remembers when you used to hold his hand, his was always dirty with mud and grass, you never cared. You asked him to marry you when you were seven.

He promised you he would.

As you grew up, you continued with this closeness. You had slept in his bed more times than he could count, even at Hogwarts sometimes you'd climb into a corner of his bed. You'd always end up pressed against one another. You would still accidentally nap together on the couches at Potter Manor, or his head on your lap in the common room. And he could admit that Lily Evans had caught his attention, it had been an ongoing thin, and after certain revelations... Deep down he knew. 

It had always been you.

James could only stare after you as you set down the hallway with the black-haired boy. A pat on the shoulder from Remus was enough to ground him again. James thought of Sirius's hand around yours. 

"Where are they going-"

"Probably to snog in some empty classroom until they undoubtedly get caught," Peter spoke mindlessly as he struggled to untangle his sweater from his messenger bag. James stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn't thought about it. The possibility that the nearness between you and Sirius was something else, that you could be involved more intimately.

He thought of your lips, the soft plump lips that kissed his forehead. The ones that stretched into a smile every time you saw him, the ones that curled involuntarily when he said something stupid. The same ones that had kissed him in spin the bottle merely a year ago. He thought of those same lips kissing Sirius. 

He might throw up.

 James stared at Peter wide-eyed

"What? I thought we all assumed they had something going on" he shrugged as he finally separated the two items. "They're all close and disgusting everywhere— just like you and Lily-"

"There's nothing between me and Evans," Remus and Peter raised their eyebrows at the confession. 

"You're always together so I just assumed" Peter's words might as well have been a mumble to James, as he continued to think of you and his best friend. How long had this been going on? 

“Well there’s nothing”

-

You couldn’t help but think about what Sirius had said. He convinced you to let him do his thing, you don’t even have to do anything. But you couldn’t help but run laps around the thought of James being jealous. He didn’t seem upset with you having to kiss Remus during spin the bottle two months ago.

You thought back to the time you kissed. Your first, and most likely only, kiss with James Potter had been by the graces of an empty bottle of firewhiskey last year. You never failed to remember how he laughed after you kissed, a warm full-chested laugh, the kind he gets when he’s all riled up after outrunning Filch. The kind he gets when you set muggle fireworks in the forbidden forest and have to run away after lighting. You pushed him and he simply smiled widely, as if nothing had happened. It was a sharp contrast to the way he seemed to go all shy after Lily had to kiss him. His face seemed to go red and a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. 

Yes, not at all alike.

You wondered if Lily thought about that kiss as much as James probably did. You couldn’t get the image out of your head, his lips on hers. The lips that pouted at you every time you told him no, the same lips that kissed the top of your head when he passed by behind you and you were too engrossed in your work or broke into a smile every time you saw him. The lips that in childhood had kissed your hand and called you princess. You thought of those lips, kissing Lily. 

Probably right now, it was 10 pm and she wasn’t in your dorm, her bed vacant next to yours.

“Why do you look so worried, sweets?” Marlene couldn’t help but notice the way you curled in your bed, the deep frown that had taken hold of your brows. She kneeled next to your bed and pushed the center of your eyebrows, “You’re bound to get wrinkles Y/N stop that”

”I don’t care Marls,” you unclenched your eyebrows nevertheless.

”What’s got you so down?” She leaned her head across her forearms on your bed, her short blonde hair looked windswept, her bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “is it Sirius?”

You moaned in frustration. Marlene Mckinnon was one of your closest friends. She was the first person you got close with at Hogwarts, her bed sat left to yours, she was your closest confidant. 

“There’s nothing between me and Sirius-“

”Potter seemed to disagree he wouldn’t stop bombarding Sirius with questions during dinner,” you had decided to hide out in your room instead of going down for dinner, Marlene had set a muffin on your nightstand when she entered.

”What did Sirius say?” you bit your lip

”He just told him it was none of his business— I thought Potter was going to burst a blood vessel right then and there” she laughed as she pushed her finger on your forehead again, smoothing out the frown lines.

”Sirius thinks I have a chance with James,” her mouth did an o “he wants to make him jealous but I think he’s full of rubbish” Marlene had known for a very long time about your futile crush on the boy, it was hard to be as close to someone like Marlene, someone so in tune with people’s feelings without her finding out. She always shot you sorry looks when you'd see him with Lily. You pretended to ignore them.

”I can’t believe I’m saying this but Black finally had a good idea”

You groaned into your pillow, your hands pulling slightly at your hair. “What sort of friends are you guys?” Your words were muffled by your pillow and she laughed again but patted your hair,

”Friends that want you to be happy-“

”Yea well this isn’t the way” your voice got louder and higher pitched, you felt like you'd suffocate on the pillow “I’ll be happy being her bridesmaid when they get married and have three kids and live in a cute little house, and I'll be godmother to their children and be happy that at least I didn’t explode one of my closest friendships because the two of you have lost a couple of screws!” you tried your best to push some humor through your voice, you might've been grasping at straws. 

”Who’s getting married?” Lily shot you a playful look from the doorway, you hadn’t heard her come in. You wanted to disappear into your sheets, you couldn’t even look at her right now. She groaned as she dropped her pile of books onto her bed.“Is Sirius giving you trouble? He seems so taken with you-“

You groaned as you buried your face into the pillow again, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you. Marlene found the whole thing more than hilarious, her whole body shook as she laughed and she wiped her eyes of the wetness that had formed at the corners. 

“I’m going to kill him-“

”What? You guys have been so smitten lately I just thought-“ Lily’s face twisted in thought, nevertheless the edges of her lip curled upwards

”Nothing is going on between me and anybody,” You got up swiftly, a bad mood settling in your stomach like a pile of rocks. “I’ll just see you later-" You grabbed a sweater, that you were pretty sure was one of the boys, it would not help you hide in the darkness of the castle but hopefully it would provide some warmth. You bent down to take your shoes from beside the door and walked out without further comment. 

“Was it me?” 

“I fear it might’ve been Lils” 

- 

“Hush-“

”Don’t tell me to hush Moony— you’re stepping on my toes” Sirius whined in a whisper

”Prongs you need a bigger cloak” 

Sirius peered over James’s shoulder as the speckled boy opened the map, the footsteps at the end of the hall seemed to get nearer

“oh” James felt a swirl of emotions in his chest,

”Who is it Prongs-“ Peter barely managed to squeak out before James answered

”It’s just Y/N” the marauders huddled around the map now, watching the banner with your name circle the corner and float down the hall they were hiding in. “What d’you reckon she’s doing up-“

”Shhhh she’s getting close-“ They could see you now, James's brown sweater covering you, one of your shoes untying as you padded down the hall. Tears were in free flow now, they could see even through the darkness, the splotches on your face, and the tracks of tears down the curve of your face. You wiped them furiously with the edge of the jumper. 

Something inside James warmed, all he wanted to do was close the distance. He looked briefly at Sirius, whose eyebrows were furrowed in worry. Sirius always hated seeing people he cared about cry. James wondered if he had done something to you. If there truly was something between you and Sirius.

You had well passed them now, but the marauders could still hear your sniffles from down the hall. 

”Merlin-"

"hold the bag Moons" Sirius pushed the small bag of dung bombs onto Remus's arms and slipped out from under the cloak. Sirius couldn't help but smirk as James protested, whispering furiously to get back here.

Sirius started running then, to catch up with you, his light jogs and tall legs allowing him to catch up with you quickly. Your heart shot up as he got closer and you could hear him near you, quickly dying down when you turned to see the dark-haired boy behind you. Sirius hoped James could hear from here.

"Whatcha up to doll?" 

"Godric Sirius what is wrong with you-" you placed your hand on your chest, feeling like your heart might fall out of it at any moment. You decided not to question where he came from, you just hoped the rest of his group, and James were far away.

James couldn't help himself, he was desperate to know what the two of you were talking about. So he herded the other two down the hallway, enough of a distance that you wouldn't notice the shuffling, Sirius definitely did, but close enough that he could see you clearly. The soft, homely mess of your hair, the tired curve of your eyes. He knew you were nervous, the way you played with your fingers and rocked your body, your leg. He could hear your honeyed voice, your tone close enough to the one you'd mumble to him with when you were about to pass out in his bed.

"Many things actually, I fear it all boils down to my mother-"

"You're so utterly insufferable"

"Yet you love me,"

"Sadly, I guess I love you" James felt the knot tie in his throat at your words, he tried to recall when you had said those words to him. Sirius smiled at your words, his fingers pulling at a strand of your hair. "oi watch it—"

He hoped James was ready to blow a fuse. Actually, he knew he was.

"Marlene agrees with you by the way," You softly swung your foot, hitting his own rather softly "I suspect you've both lost it"

"Nah, great minds think alike doll, you just gotta believe in me" he got closer now, pulling you into a hug. "Will you tell me why tears were falling down your pretty face?" He slightly rocked you, his cheek smushed against the top of your head. Sirius naturally would've comforted you regardless, he hated nothing more than seeing his friends cry. But the thought of James watching and stewing in his unexplored jealousy made him giggle in his head. 

James's face was twisting in a way that was unfamiliar even to him. Bitter and negative feelings weren't exactly part of his repertoire.  Remus tried his best to stifle a laugh. 

"Lily just came in, while I was talking to Marls about the whole thing and I guess," you sighed loudly, looking up trying to make the newly formed tears that gathered in your eyes absorb back. James always thought you and Lily were pretty close, what could you possibly tell Marlene that you didn't feel well telling Lily? Why hadn't you told him? "I don't know Sirius I just lost it, she started talking about you and me and I lost it, I wanted to scream at her" James could feel his blood boil, Sirius had done something. He knew Sirius had. You buried your face in his chest again "My frustrations aren't her fault,"

"I know sweetheart, I'm sorry" Sirius continued patting your hair, he worried now, about what James could hear. He felt bad now, that he knew they were invading your privacy. "I feel guilty-"

"No Sirius it isn't your fault"

"I feel like I'm just opening up the wound, I don't want to give you false hope-" James felt like a teapot ready to explode with pressure.

He pulled the coat from over the three boys, revealing their presence in the hallway. You felt like you were going to drown in your shame.

"Sirius Black you're a bastard-" James closed the distance quickly, going straight for a tackle rather dramatically. Sirius pushed you away just in time. As the two boys wrestled on the floor, James continued to call him names, the idiot's and how dare you's flew unceremoniously. All Sirius could do was laugh

"I knew you'd do something to'er you good for nothing-" James was shaking him now, ignoring the fact that Sirius kept laughing, "I knew you'd make her cry-"

"James he didn't make me cry," your tears flowed down your cheeks again, you felt shame and embarrassment swim in your chest. You cried because you knew you had to come clean, Sirius wouldn't do it for you. There weren't many excuses he could come up with right now. You could feel yourself sweating cold, like the morning dew on leaves, embarrassment stuck to you.

You couldn't help but take a good hard look at him now. At James, who looked at you with his stupid hazel eyes the size of the sun, who clutched at his best friend's shirt collar. At his brother's, for you. How brashly he had swooped, sweet James who always came to your rescue, even when you didn't need it. When you were barely 7 and ran around his large yard, the rows of flowers and bushes his mother grew were gorgeous and they seemed the height of buildings, the thorns will cut you, I'll get you a flower Y/N. He had always been your knight, the shield of comfort where you hid from the rest of the world, the gentle solace to return to when life got too hard or people teased too intensely. Those people often woke up with apple-green hair thanks to him. 

James was the noblest man you knew, with a heart twice his height. 

You had fallen in love with him for this exact reason.

"It's you James" James felt like someone dropped him in the middle of the black lake. You shook your head, a sad smile carving your expression. 

"I made you cry?" he sounded 7 again, innocent and afraid that you'd be hurt. His voice was soft and traveled faintly through the otherwise quiet hallway. Remus and Peter seemed to be holding their breath.

"I love you," James dropped his grip on Sirius now, who hit his back painfully against the stone floor with a groan. All he could manage was to look at you, his weight still resting between Sirius and his knee on the floor. "but I know I can't compete with Lily and that's alright, I reckon one day it'll pass." 

You took his silence to heart, Remus couldn't help but shoot you a worried look, his brows furrowed the way they always did when he could tell your heart hurt like he could hear it clenching. You gave them one last smile, trying to wipe the sticky fingers of embarrassment from your being as you began to walk away, praying that nothing stood between you and the common room.

"You're an idiot Prongs-" Sirius pushed James off, and the brown-haired boy rolled to the floor, his back against the cool stone as he thought of you. 

”She loves me-“

”We all heard her,” 

“Shut up Moony-“

”Well she doesn’t know does she-“ The boys looked at Peter like he had grown a second head. “That you love her.”

James groaned from the ground the skin of his cheeks feeling hot.

“I reckon you oughta go after her” Peter said as he put the map in his back pocket, the three boys stood around to James looking at him from at ground. 

James buried his face in his hands. You seemed so defeated, so sad that you loved him. How could that ever be a sad thing? 

“In a surprising turn of events Wormtail’s right, move it Prongs-“ Sirius kicked James in the thigh, causing the boy on the floor to jump into action. He stumbled up, looking comically disheveled. He opened his mouth to speak to which Remus told him to Just go!

So James ran, he ran through the hallways so fast he thought he’d start levitating. It wasn’t hard for him, to catch up, not with the length of his legs or the pace he had set, in fact, he found you fairly quickly, yelling your name down the hall. You yelped as he skirted to a stop right into your arms, colliding with you with little force.

”You’re going to get us caught it’s after hours already-“ 

“I don’t care-“ he pulled you closer to his chest, his arms completely around you now “I had to tell you, and truly that’s just the thing I don’t care whether it’s morning or the middle night or truly any other time of day hell it could be in the middle of Charms-“

“you’re not making sense James-“

”Oh, right” He took a deep breath, but the silence lingered, his hand now skirting around the hair that framed your face, almost touching but not quite. His face was so close to yours that you could see the flecks of a light brown in the underlayers of his irises. “I just meant to say— to tell you that, well I love you too”

”I thought you and Lily-“ He got closer, if it was even possible, his lips ghosting over yours now, waiting for you. His hand remained steady at the edge of your jaw. 

“Enough about Evans yea?” you closed the distance, his lips had felt like a magnet pulling you in.

Kissing James felt different than kissing any other boy. It even felt different than the first time you kissed. This was sweeter, this wasn't under the scrutinizing gaze of your friends or the excuse of an empty bottle. This was intimate and filled with want, his soft plump lips seemed to fit perfectly with yours. The grip of your waist tightened and brought you closer to him as his kiss turned hungrier, and your hands traveled from his chest to his unruly locks of hair.

You finally parted with a sigh, a happy one you felt like. Satisfied.

He pressed his forehead against you humming in content. 

"I'm confused-"

"Lily and I are just friends now, she's not exactly into me, is she? Or men in general I reckon but regardless" He looked into your eyes, his hands now cupping your face and adoration pouring from his gaze. "It's always been you, I love you"

"I love you too, you twat-"

this took me to long to cook up @prongsprincessworld :D

hope u all like it!!

[arrakisser]

yeah.

[kittykatstiles]

saw this pic on ig and people were like “sterek?” “this is sterek” like 10 years later the sterek impact is still going strong it’s crazy

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

thinking about an estranged childhood friends to lovers story with gojo……

you’re a rowdy kid. during one of your adventures, you end up at the gojo estate; sneaking your way into a vast, beautiful garden, pretty pink roses as far as the eye can see. little gojo is crouched down, watching tiny sprouts grow, and you’re too captivated to look away. bright snowy hair, striking blue eyes, all dolled up in a fancy yukata. he turns to meet your gaze — and all you give him is a sheepish laugh, before strolling over to introduce yourself. he doesn’t seem to mind the company, so you keep coming over to play with him. you bring cool rocks, pretty cicadas you caught, a dusty gameboy. he listens to you speak. he watches the way you move, wave your hands when you’re excited. he grows so, so fond of you.

one day, you stop coming by to see him — and he doesn’t need confirmation to know that one of the maids must have chased you off.

twenty years later, you meet him again, in a crowded little café. he calls out for you by name and you have no idea who you’re looking at. a tall, handsome, cheery man… wearing a blindfold? and shooting you a charming grin. you have no idea who he is, but he remembers you. he remembers you a lot more than he should. he chides you for forgetting your very best friend, but there’s nothing but humour in his voice. you watch as he speaks, as he moves, as he taps his feet under the table after insisting you order something — his treat. you still don’t remember him.

but you’re captivated, all the same.

(from underneath his blindfold, gojo watches you smile. he thinks to himself that some things must truly never change; because he still feels that familiar swarm of butterflies, with every move you make.)