#jules fluff

[op1umeyes]

Firefighter!Simon who meets you when your apartment goes up in flames, breaking down the crumbling excuse of a door to make sure that everyone had been evacuated from the building. Gaz was having a laugh about how someone ‘could sleep through that shit’ as Simon had to wake up this poor girl who just wanted to sleep after her stressful day. Firefighter!Simon who answers all your questions with a gruff tone, navigating through the burning building. On one hand, he’s glad you aren’t screaming and crying about the building but on the other hand he wasn’t used to people asking him questions. You ask him things like his favorite color, his favorite food, how many times he had punched people in the face, and about his opinion on everything under the sun. He was on his seventh ‘you need to stop talkin’, ma’am, yer wastin’ air’ when you started coughing.

When you got to the ambulance, Firefighter!Simon didn’t say no when you asked him to go with you to the hospital. Johnny raised an eyebrow at Simon as he maneauvered his hulking body onto the seat next to you. For some unknown reason, Firefighter!Simon didn’t want you- nosy and kind and pretty you- to be hacking up a lung by yourself in the presence of someone like Johnny. And when your breathing started slowing and you weren’t looking around with bright eyes, Simon let you slide your hand into his gloved one.

Firefighter!Simon who, miraculously, has the night off. He decides to stay in the hospital until you wake: thinking it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to make sure your friends or family were made aware of the devastating fire. But when you finally blink awake and Simon asks all his questions, he’s stumped when you hit him with a ‘I don’t have any family’. Simon can’t stop himself from blurting out ‘You c’n stay with me. If you want.’

It takes a full day for you to be cleared before Firefighter!Simon picks you up from the hospital to take you to his (more than) humble abode. He finds that you quickly find happiness in the kitchen, but are more than disappointed to see he has barely anything to cook or bake with. “A damn shame” you say. With the remaining daylight hours, Simon finds himself driving you to a little supermarket in the corner of the city he hadn’t had the time to be explore. You insist on buying everything, telling Simon (a man who you really knew nothing about) it was the least you could do since he saved you from homelessness. And dying.

The rest of your first day in your temporary home with Firefighter!Simon is spent cooking. You whip up a marvelous pasta dish with hearty meatballs that almost make drool seep from Simon’s lips. He sits at the island watching you move around his space like you’d been there millions of times, an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his gut similar to fondness. Since picking you up some new clothes, Simon had learned a little bit more about you than Simon thought healthy. It was unfortunate enough for him to have been unable to get laid in over three months, but it was even more unfortunate that he had such a pretty bird in his apartment making him food and insisting on being near him when he sure as hell couldn’t make a move on her.

Firefighter!Simon who gets comfortable in his routine with you. On the days he’s not at work at assfuck 0200, he’s up making a simple breakfast for you and him before rhe day starts. You’ll eat and concerse a little awkwardly but that wont stop you from asking all about how he slept and if his buddies wanted more of those monster cookies you’d made to thank them for saving you and your fellow tenants. Simon had to relay many praises of your work in the kitchen, only ommiting the details and sly jokes about how ‘Simon’s girl’ was already taking care of the family. You’d go to work by bus or train- depending on how you felt- and then come home and make dinner or reheat leftovers. If Simon was at work, you’d laze on the couch in the main room and watch television and read. If Simon wasn’t at work, you’d bring the softest blanket from the room Simon had placed you in and watch a movie. More often than not, you would scoot closer and closer to Simon before falling asleep against him. When you woke up, you were in your bed- undoubtedly carried by Simon. Oh well. Its what friends do.

Firefighter!Simon who sees you as a friend. It’s basing your third week in his home and he feel comfortable around you. You’re good at reading his silence- the set of his shoulders and the future of his brow say enough- and he can’t be more thankful of that. For someone so new to his life, you seem to know exactly when to let a comfortable silence fall between you and when to start chattering about them things that come to your mind. But when you are the silent, short-tempered, and fatigued one, Simon is more than scared to get in your way. “Needa talk?” He offers, sliding you a cup of steaming coffee when you level a glare at the mug that had irritated you at such an inconveniently early hour. You heave a sigh and your head crumbles down into your arms. “I’m a mess, Si,” you tell him. Though your voice is muffled, Simon hears the shakiness in your throat trying to escape. He rounds the corner of island and places a large palm on your back in his attempt to comfort you. You are wrapping your arms around his neck and buring your face into the frail fabric of Simon’s shirt before he even knows what’s happening. And- as avoidant as Simon is to physical touch that doesn’t occur during work hours or when you fall asleep on him or when you slid your hand in his gloved hand during The Ambulance Ride- Simon didn’t mind your arms and warmth around him. When you started shaking in his arms was when Simon had to clench his jaw. It pained him that it pained you- and he didn’t even know what was ailing you! Simon tried to soothe himself with the knowledge that he was giving you the best comfort he could offer.

A day later you wake up to a crime scene in your underwear in the middle of the night so you decide to take a midnight trip to the convenience store a literal block away without letting Firefighter!Simon know. I mean, hey, he needs sleep and you were not going to wake him up to let him know you would be gone for a total of five minutes! But when you were on your way back to his house, you noticed someone following you. As you turned right for the third consecutive block, you finally fumbled for your phone.

Hearing you say ‘hey baby’ at 0146 had Firefighter!Simon’s head spinning. He was a little dazed because of the abrupt awakening but your casual greeting was wnough to jolt him awake. “Y/n? Whadda ya- what-?” He couldn’t finish his question before you interrupt him. “Hey do you think you could pick me up? I think I got a little lost.” Simon shoots out of bed, hitting the speaker button as he goes to slip a shirt on. “Where are you? Do I need a knife? Are you okay, dove?” He slips his shoes on and is out of the door faster than he is when he gets a work call. “Yeah, I’d bring the knife, babe,” you answer on the other line, more than loud enough for the man who is following you to hear. “I’m about four blocks away, by the Casey’s. You have my location.” Simon peels out of his driveway and immediately clicks on your profile to find the map with your smiling face. “Talk to me, y/n. I’m almost there.” Your breath is shaking on the other end and Simon doesn’t want you to be scared. “I think I could go for some Italian, Simon,” you say truthfully. “A minute away” Simon tells you, tires squealing as he turns down the streets you were hightailing down. Simon steps out of the truck after shifting it to park and the guy scatters. You’re running into Simon’s open arms before he could take a third step toward you. “I’m sorry,” you murmur “I kinda… started my period and didn’t want to wake you but then-“ Simon just shushes you, running a large hand down your back. “Let’s go home, love.” Simon scooped you up easily, tucking the obnoxiously loud crinkling plastic bag into your lap as he easily carried you to the passenger seat. Home. Yeah, Simon and his place had become your home.

[777sturn]

MOANING GROANING WHIMPERING WHINING WET WET WET. THIS MAN IS A SLUTTTTT

[ijustwannabecool]

Just Like Him - All Drivers

Dad!Drivers x Reader

Summary... Genetics are wild — and a little bit magical. They say kids get their genes from both parents. But Y/N’s pretty sure hers got 97% dad, 2% chaos and 1% mom.

A/N: Just a little blur of dad!fluff and cuteness overload. This one has Max, Lewis, Charles, Carlos, Lando, and Danny. If you want to see more drivers let me know!! I hope you guys enjoy this one.

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy :)

Have a lovely day today!!

If you loved this story and want to support more F1 comfort chaos like this, feel free to buy me a coke.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Max Verstappen

You catch it the first time when Isa is just shy of two.

She’s strapped into her high chair, smearing avocado across her tray like she’s painting a masterpiece. There’s a soft lull of music playing from the speaker, and Max is leaned over beside her, trying to coax a spoonful of rice into her mouth. She ignores him completely, staring off into the distance, tapping one tiny hand on the tray in a steady rhythm.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Y/N blinks. Because that—that—is exactly what Max does when he’s annoyed but trying to hide it. When he’s in a meeting and the strategy isn’t making sense. When he’s trying to stay polite. When he’s being patient but barely.

She doesn’t say anything. Just watches.

Max finally sighs and puts the spoon down. “She’s stubborn.”

“She’s you,” Y/N says under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she hums, already storing the moment away in that secret part of her heart labeled reasons I love you.

--

The second time, Leo’s barely one. A warm, heavy baby who loves cuddles and hates shoes. He’s napping in their bed after a long morning of teething tears and clinginess, and Y/N comes in with her phone, planning to snap a quiet photo.

And then she sees it.

The scowl.

He’s frowning in his sleep. Like full-on deep Verstappen forehead crease frowning. Lips pressed tight. Eyebrows drawn in. All of it.

Y/N actually snorts. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Max walks in behind her, towel slung over his shoulder, fresh from a workout. “What?”

“Look at him.”

He squints. “He’s sleeping.”

“No. Look at his face.”

Max shrugs. “He’s probably dreaming about milk. Or getting overtaken.” He says it so casually and then kisses her cheek and walks away.

Y/N just stands there, staring at this frowning baby. “You’re not real,” she whispers to Leo. “You’re literally his clone.”

--

When Isa’s five, she builds an entire Lego village on the living room floor. Carefully. Methodically. Quietly.

Y/N is folding laundry in the hallway when she hears it.

“Ugh. No one listens to me.”

Soft. Mumbled. Annoyed.

She freezes.

Because those are the exact words Max said three weeks ago, after his radio calls got ignored during a wet qualifying.

She peers around the corner. Isa’s trying to explain how the Lego airport works to Leo, who is eating the red bricks and not listening at all.

Y/N presses her lips together to keep from laughing. “She really said that, huh?”

“What?” Max walks by, sipping coffee.

“She’s your daughter.”

“She’s our daughter.”

“Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.”

--

Leo’s four when it happens again. It’s a rainy day, and Y/N’s pulled out a big wooden puzzle to keep them busy while Max’s away at the factory.

Leo crouches over the pieces like a man on a mission. He studies the edges. Frowns. Runs his hand through his hair dramatically — a move Y/N has definitely seen during race weekends.

Then he starts pacing.

Pacing.

She’s leaned against the doorway in disbelief. Her mouth is actually hanging open.

Leo mumbles, “This doesn’t make sense,” under his breath and throws himself down on the couch like it’s the end of the world.

She laughs. Out loud. Can’t help it.

He looks up, blinking. “Mama?”

“Nothing, baby. You’re doing amazing. Just like Papa.”

--

It hits her one night when everything is still.

Max is home. The kids are finally asleep after a chaotic bedtime full of bubble beards, mismatched pajamas, and Leo insisting Isa stole his favorite sock.

She walks into the living room to find all three of them piled onto the couch. Max is half-asleep with both kids flopped on top of him like puppies. Isa is curled into his chest. Leo is on his stomach, tiny hand fisted in Max’s shirt. They’re all breathing the same way — slow, deep, synchronized.

She just stares for a second. Heart in her throat.

Max cracks one eye open. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re staring.”

“I know.”

He lifts a hand and wiggles his fingers until she walks over and kneels beside them.

“What is it?” he murmurs, brushing her cheek with his knuckles.

She smiles. “You don’t even see it, do you?”

“See what?”

“You made two tiny versions of yourself.” She smooths Isa’s curls, brushes Leo’s lashes. “And they have no idea how much they’re just like you.”

Max blinks, half-asleep. “That good or bad?”

She kisses his hand. “It’s the best thing in the world.”

--

It’s a Sunday morning when she catches it again — and this time, she gets proof.

The kitchen smells like cinnamon and butter. Isa’s standing on a stool stirring pancake batter. Leo’s at the counter pressing blueberries into already-cooked pancakes with sticky, purple-stained fingers. Max is manning the pan, flipping like a pro.

Y/N walks in, still sleep-rumpled, mug in hand — and stops dead in her tracks.

Because all three of them are standing exactly the same way.

One hip popped. Left foot slightly forward. Right hand resting lazily on the counter. Even their heads are tilted at the same angle as they concentrate.

She doesn’t say a word. Just sets her mug down silently and grabs her phone.

Click.

Max glances up at the sound. “What are you—?”

She flips the phone around to show him the picture. “Look.”

He squints. “Okay…?”

“Look, Max.”

His eyes flick between the photo and the real-life lineup in front of him. Then he blinks. “What the hell.”

“I told you. You’re not raising children. You’re multiplying.”

Isa looks up. “Mama, what’s multiplying?”

Max just shakes his head, laughing softly as he flips another pancake. “That’s terrifying.”

Y/N smiles into her mug. “That’s love.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Charles Leclerc

Mila is six the first time Y/N really notices it.

She’s sitting at the kitchen table, coloring a Ferrari red car with the kind of focus usually reserved for real race engineers. Her little tongue pokes out between her lips. Her eyebrows are knitted. Every few seconds, she mutters something under her breath in French — barely audible, but deeply unimpressed.

Y/N pauses, spatula in hand. Because that face? That concentration? That muttering?

It’s so Charles.

She watches for a moment longer before calling out, “Mila?”

Her daughter doesn’t even look up. “I told you, Mama, this line isn’t straight. I have to fix it.”

Y/N grins. “Of course you do.”

---

Luca and Jules — age four, chaotic energy personified — are building a blanket fort in the living room. Or, more accurately, Luca is building it and Jules is providing dramatic commentary and helpful criticism.

At one point, the blanket slips off the top.

Luca gasps, drops the pillow he’s holding, and stomps his foot. Actually stomps it.

Y/N blinks.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she murmurs.

Because that’s exactly what Charles did last week when he lost a board game to Mila. Same frustrated stomp. Same “I will fix this” energy.

She sneaks a photo from behind the couch.

---

Later that week, they’re at a birthday party and Jules is asked if he wants cake or ice cream.

He frowns, thinks, and says in a tiny but dramatic voice, “That’s too much pressure.”

Y/N nearly spits out her drink. Because what.

She grabs Charles’s sleeve. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That’s too much pressure. That’s what you said when we had to pick a Netflix movie last week.”

Charles laughs, clearly delighted. “He listens, huh?”

“He absorbs,” Y/N corrects. “Like a sponge. A dramatic little sponge.”

---

That night, Charles tucks Mila in.

She pulls the covers up to her chin and says, very seriously, “Can we work on tire strategy for my soapbox car tomorrow?”

He freezes. “Tire—strategy?”

She nods. “Papa, we’re losing time on the corners. I have ideas.”

He walks back into the bedroom with wide eyes. “Mon amour, I think we might be raising a future world champion.”

Y/N smirks. “I think you’re raising yourself.”

---

But it’s not all Charles.

Sometimes it’s her.

And Charles sees it — quietly, when no one else is watching.

He catches Jules humming while folding laundry. The tune is one Y/N always hums when she’s focused — soft, familiar, warm.

He sees Mila do her “thinking face,” the one where she looks up and bites the inside of her cheek. Just like her mama.

He watches Luca walk away after getting told “no,” muttering under his breath in exactly Y/N’s cadence, “That’s fine. I didn’t even want it.”

And sometimes it makes him laugh, sometimes it makes him melt — but every time, it makes him fall a little more in love.

---

One evening, all three kids are sitting around the kitchen island, coloring and munching on fruit.

Charles walks in from a call and stops. They’re all hunched forward, elbows on the counter, chewing pens as they draw — the exact way Y/N sits when she’s journaling.

He pulls his phone out and snaps a photo.

Later, he shows her.

“You see it now, don’t you?” she teases.

Charles nods. “They’re just like me.”

She smiles.

“And just like you.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Carlos Sainz

Camila is three when Y/N first catches it.

They’re in the kitchen, and Y/N has just said the forbidden phrase: “No more cookies.”

Camila gasps. One hand flies to her chest. The other reaches out in despair. She staggers backward like she’s been wounded.

“Mamá,” she says with a trembling voice. “You break my heart.”

Y/N stares.

Carlos, across the room, doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Maybe just one more for after lunch,” he mumbles.

Y/N narrows her eyes. “Carlos.”

He glances up. “What?”

“She’s you. That was you in toddler form.”

He squints at their daughter, who’s now slumped dramatically over the kitchen chair. “She’s just expressive.”

“She’s you. And you don’t even see it.”

---

Later that week, they’re at the park and Camila trips on her shoelace. It’s a tiny stumble — no injury, just a scrape — but she collapses to the ground and groans.

Not a cry. Not a whimper.

A full-bodied, frustrated, Carlos Sainz on team radio after a bad pit stop groan.

Y/N runs over. “You okay, baby?”

Camila lays flat on the grass. “I’ll never recover.”

Y/N covers her mouth to keep from laughing. “Oh my god.”

Carlos, jogging up behind them, doesn’t bat an eye. “She’ll be fine.”

“She just said she’ll never recover,” Y/N hisses.

Carlos shrugs. “She’s dramatic.”

“She’s you!”

---

Nico’s only ten months, but he’s already in on it.

He sighs. All the time. Little dramatic baby exhales whenever he doesn’t get picked up immediately or if someone dares to interrupt his snack time.

Once, he actually rolled over, stared at the ceiling, and let out a moan like life had defeated him.

Y/N caught it on video.

She showed Carlos.

He laughed. “He’s a passionate boy.”

“You’re raising a baby telenovela, Carlos.”

“He is Spanish.”

“So are you!”

Carlos just winked. “Exactly.”

---

One night, they’re reading bedtime stories, and Camila interrupts to dramatically whisper, “Mamá, if I had to choose between cake and Papa… I would cry.”

Y/N blinks. “You… what?”

“I love cake. But I love Papa.”

Carlos kisses her forehead proudly. “Mi niña romántica.”

Y/N stares at him. “Do you hear yourself?”

Carlos frowns. “What?”

“She’s literally you.”

---

The final straw comes on a lazy Sunday.

Carlos is on the couch, watching football. Camila is sitting next to him with a play microphone, pretending to do interviews.

“Mila Sainz,” she announces in a posh voice, “do you think you are the most handsome driver in the world?”

She pauses. Flips her hair.

Then replies to herself, “I do. But I also want to be remembered for my heart.”

Carlos gives a thumbs up. “That’s a good answer.”

Y/N walks in with Nico on her hip and just stares.

“She did your post-race interview voice.”

Carlos shrugs. “It’s a good voice.”

“You’re impossible.”

He grins. “And apparently, so are they.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Lando Norris

Ollie talks nonstop.

Y/N counted once — he asked seventeen questions before she’d finished her coffee. Seventeen. Before 8 a.m.

He narrates everything. His thoughts. His snack choices. The way his sock feels “sad” because it’s the wrong color. It’s so Lando it’s ridiculous.

Lando denies it, of course. “He’s just curious,” he says, as Ollie launches into a passionate TED Talk about worms.

“You literally talked through our entire first date,” Y/N replies.

“Yeah, but I was charming.”

Y/N gestures to their son, who is now taping two juice boxes together with painter’s tape. “So is he.”

---

Mornings with Ollie are… loud.

It starts in the bathroom.

Lando’s brushing his teeth, shirtless, hair a mess, doing a little shuffle dance to the music playing off his phone.

Ollie climbs up onto the stool next to him, toothbrush already hanging out of his mouth like a pro.

They lock eyes in the mirror.

And then it begins: synchronized chaos.

They both brush like it’s a sport — dramatic arm movements, mouth foam everywhere, wiggly hips and head bobs.

Ollie spits. Lando spits.

Ollie wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Lando does the same.

Y/N walks in just as both of them slap cold water on their faces at the same time — and then both yell “AAAAH!” like it’s so refreshing and totally not freezing.

She stares. “You guys good?”

Lando gives her a toothpastey grin. “Mornin’, babe.”

Ollie copies him perfectly. “Mornin’, babe.”

Y/N presses a hand to her mouth to hide the smile. “I’m leaving. I can’t parent two of you today.”

“Technically,” Lando calls after her, “you created this.”

---

It’s the little things, too.

The way Ollie laughs — full belly, nose scrunch, falling-over kind of laughter.

The way he claps when he thinks he’s made a good joke (which is every time).

The way he races everything — his scooter, his cereal, his toothbrush. “It’s lights out and away we go!” is heard daily in their house.

Y/N once caught him giving himself a pretend podium interview using a banana. “I think I could’ve gone faster if Mum let me eat cake for breakfast.”

Lando just beamed. “He’s got media training already.”

---

And then there’s the livestream.

Lando’s mid-sentence, talking sim setups and gear ratios, when the door creaks open behind him.

“Ollie—” Y/N says off-camera. “He’s working.”

“I am working,” Ollie insists, popping into frame.

Lando turns around just as Ollie climbs onto his lap like he owns the stream.

“Say hi,” Lando mutters, adjusting his mic.

Ollie leans in, dead serious. “Hi. I’m his boss.”

Lando snorts. “You’re not my boss.”

“I am, because I said so.”

Then he slaps Lando’s cheeks between his palms and says, “Focus, Lando. You’re losing concentration.”

The chat explodes.

THE LITTLE YOU OMG 😭 He’s got the same attitude I can’t breathe NOT THE “YOU’RE LOSING CONCENTRATION” I’M GONE I swear I’ve heard Lando say that on team radio apple didn’t even fall. it’s still attached.

Lando scrolls through the comments, eyes wide.

Y/N walks by in the background, completely unfazed. “I told you.”

That night, they’re curled up on the couch.

Ollie’s passed out on Lando’s chest, mouth open, hand fisted in his shirt.

“You know,” Y/N whispers, brushing a curl off Ollie’s forehead, “he’s just like you.”

Lando raises an eyebrow. “He’s louder.”

“He’s you, baby. Just… uncensored.”

Lando looks down at his son and grins.

“Poor world.”

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Lewis Hamilton

Lewis is in the studio, pinky finger against his lip, focused on the track in his headphones.

From the kitchen, Y/N watches five-year-old Sofia on the floor with a coloring book. Head tilted, one arm propped on her knee, pinky tapping her bottom lip — exact same posture.

Not imitating. Just being.

“Lew,” Y/N says softly. “Come here.”

He leans out. “What—?”

She points.

He stares for a long second, then quietly laughs. “No way.”

“You do that every time you’re deep in thought.”

He watches her for another beat. “She’s got my thinking face.”

“She’s got you, period.”

---

In Lewis’s mum’s backyard, three-year-old Mateo crouches near a bee on the porch.

“It’s okay, little guy,” he says, calm and careful. “You can fly by me. I’m just watching.”

Lewis pauses mid-step. Y/N sees it — the soft smile, the little catch in his breath.

“That’s you,” she whispers.

He clears his throat. “We respect all creatures.”

“You once whispered ‘sorry’ to a snail for moving it off the sidewalk.”

“I mean… it was in the middle of its journey.”

Y/N grins. “So is he.”

---

Lewis is on a call, pacing, only half-listening when Sofia looks out the window.

“Papa,” she says, “why do the clouds look like they’re holding their breath?”

Lewis freezes.

Y/N turns from the sink. “Did she just—?”

He nods slowly. “I said that once. About heavy skies.”

“She remembered.”

“She listens?”

“She sees you, Lewis. Even when you don’t see yourself.”

---

It’s been a long day. Y/N is quiet, curled up on the couch.

Without saying a word, Leo (now two) walks over with the Bluetooth speaker, pressing the exact button Lewis always does. Lo-fi jazz fills the room.

Y/N blinks hard. “Lew…”

Lewis is frozen, eyes wide.

“I didn’t teach him that,” she whispers.

“I did,” Lewis says, voice cracking. “I just didn’t know he was watching.”

Y/N reaches for his hand. “He was.”

---

Sofia’s drawing again. Galaxies. A rocket ship. A microphone. Earth in gentle colors.

“What is it, baby?” Y/N asks.

“My future,” Sofia says. “I want to sing. And go to space. And fix the world.”

Lewis is quiet.

“I used to say that,” he murmurs. “People laughed.”

Y/N brushes her fingers through his curls. “She doesn’t even think anyone would. Because in this house, dreams are sacred.”

Lewis swallows. Kneels beside Sofia.

“Can I come to your concert?” he asks.

Sofia beams. “You can sit in the front row.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Daniel Ricciardo

His son, four-year-old Rafi, wins a race at the go-kart track (against imaginary competition — he was the only one racing).

He hops out of the kart, rips off his helmet, throws both arms in the air and yelps, “YEEEW!” before spraying juice everywhere like it’s champagne.

Y/N is frozen on the sideline. Daniel is cheering like it’s a world championship.

“He didn’t even race anyone!” Y/N laughs.

Daniel shrugs. “A win’s a win.”

She just points. “That was literally you in Monza.”

Danny grins. “He’s got taste.”

---

Two-year-old Evie walks into the kitchen, sees Y/N holding pancakes, and does a slow-pointing double finger-gun gesture while saying, “Ohhhh yeahhh.”

Daniel almost drops his coffee.

“What was that?” Y/N whispers.

Danny shrugs, too fast. “She’s enthusiastic.”

“You did that at the airport last week. To customs.”

“She cleared me quickly.”

“She’s two.”

“She’s iconic.”

---

Rafi lets out a wild, cackling, snorty laugh at a cartoon — the kind that doubles him over and ends with a wheeze.

Daniel literally stops walking.

“That’s… that’s my laugh.”

Y/N pats his back. “Yes, babe. Your exact laugh. Pitch, rhythm, everything.”

“She didn’t even hear me laugh just now!”

“She didn’t need to. It’s coded into her DNA.”

---

Evie is explaining something to her grandma — arms flailing, eyebrows lifting, dramatic pauses, a fake gasp — like she’s doing a full one-woman theater piece about how the neighbor’s cat sat in the flower bed.

Daniel’s mum turns to Y/N and just wheezes.

“Oh my god,” she says. “She’s Daniel. She’s baby Daniel. That’s how he explained spaghetti sauce at age five.”

Daniel protests from the kitchen, mouth full of toast. “It was very good sauce.”

---

They’re at the playground. Rafi falls off a tiny climbing wall and lands on his bum.

He hops up and yells: “I’M GOOD. JUST ADDING CHARACTER.”

Y/N freezes. So does Daniel.

“That’s… that’s what I said when I broke my toe last year,” Daniel mutters.

She side-eyes him. “You say it all the time. You spilled milk last week and said that.”

Rafi shrugs like it’s no big deal and keeps playing.

Daniel turns to his mum.

She sips her coffee calmly. “You’re not raising children, darling. You’re raising Ricciardos.”

---

Family photo day.

Evie grins, throws a peace sign over one eye, tilts her head and sticks out her tongue like it’s a Red Bull era classic.

The photographer pauses. “That’s a very… specific pose.”

Y/N doesn’t even flinch. “It’s Daniel’s 2018 media day face.”

Daniel just blinks. “No it’s not—”

Y/N whips out her phone. “Side-by-side, Ricciardo. Don’t make me do it.”

His mum leans in. “You really did copy/paste yourself.”

Danny finally groans. “I didn’t even try to do this!”

Y/N just smiles. “Exactly.”

---

The end.

[christopherisfoive]

LEVELS

Pairing: Changbin x Producer!Reader Prompts: 14. Enemies to lovers tension , 18. “Don’t go. Not yet.” Setting: Studio, late-night session (REQUEST)

The beat had been looping for ten minutes.

You leaned back in the creaky desk chair, fingers tapping impatiently on your phone, trying not to sigh out loud. Across the studio, Changbin stood with his arms crossed, brow furrowed like the fate of his entire career rested on this one snare hit.

"You changed it," he said finally, not looking at you.

You didn’t flinch. “Yeah. The old one buried your vocals.”

"I liked the old one."

You turned to him slowly, meeting his eyes. “You like a lot of things that don't work in the final mix.”

Behind Changbin, Chan and Jisung froze. Chan was mid-sip of his energy drink. Jisung paused with a chip halfway to his mouth. Slowly, they turned to glance at each other—wide-eyed, silently communicating the shared pain of being stuck in the room during this again.

Changbin scoffed. “Right. Because you always know better.”

Your fingers tightened around the mouse. “You asked for feedback. Don’t whine when it’s not what you want to hear.”

From the couch, Jisung audibly inhaled like he was bracing for impact. “Uh… should I go warm up the other studio?”

Chan gave him a sharp look and whispered, “Don’t move. She’ll hear you.”

“I heard that,” you muttered, clicking back into the project.

Changbin stepped closer, ignoring the others. “I’m not whining. I’m disagreeing.”

Your chair creaked as you turned to him. “Then disagree. But don’t waste my time.”

He opened his mouth to fire back—but didn’t. Instead, his eyes flicked toward the screen behind you, watching the waveform quietly. His jaw ticked. You could practically feel the tension vibrating through the small room.

Chan shifted awkwardly. “…You guys want us to, uh, go get dinner or something?”

“No,” Changbin said at the same time you muttered, “Maybe.”

The quiet that followed was thick and awkward, broken only by the low looping beat and Jisung’s slow, cautious chip crunch.

Finally, Changbin mumbled, “I’m not trying to fight. Just… want it to sound right.”

You softened, slightly. “So do I.”

The tension didn’t dissolve—but it curled, subtle and strange. You felt his eyes on you even after he stepped back, like the last word hadn’t really been said yet.

Chan and Jisung gave each other another look—somewhere between “they’re hopeless” and “they’re definitely in love”—but wisely chose to say nothing.

Not yet, anyway.

The fluorescent lights in Studio B buzzed faintly as you sorted through vocal layers alone, trying to decompress from the earlier chaos. You didn’t expect anyone to follow you—definitely not him. But the door opened anyway, and in walked Changbin.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes flickering around the room like he was still arguing with you in his head.

You didn’t look up. “What?”

“I didn’t like how that ended.”

You tapped the spacebar a little too hard, stopping the track. “What, us fighting in front of your members? Yeah, not my favorite either.”

He scoffed. “I wasn’t the only one with an attitude.”

Now you looked at him. Really looked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set, but something behind his eyes looked…off. Like he wasn’t here to pick another fight, but didn’t know how to do anything else.

“Well, I guess that’s what happens when someone acts like they know everything about production because they’ve been in a booth a few times,” you said, voice clipped.

“That’s not fair,” he snapped. “I’ve been working on my own music longer than you’ve been at this company.”

“And yet,” you muttered, turning back to your screen, “you’re still in my studio.”

The silence that followed wasn’t loud—but it was full. Heavy with things neither of you would say out loud. Not yet.

He moved behind you then, not close, but enough that you could feel the weight of his presence. Close enough that the silence shifted into something else entirely.

“You’re good at what you do,” he said, voice lower. “I just hate when you act like you’re the only one who cares.”

You didn’t reply at first. You couldn’t.

Because the thing was—you did care. A lot. And so did he.

You just showed it by keeping everything tight. Professional. Controlled. While he pushed back, challenged you, pressed into every soft spot like he was trying to find the line you wouldn’t cross.

And maybe this was it. Or maybe not yet.

“I’m going home,” you said eventually, standing.

But before you could grab your bag, his voice cut in, sharp.

“Running off again?”

You met his eyes. “I’m not running. I just know when to leave before something gets said that can’t be taken back.”

This time, he didn’t stop you.

But he didn’t leave either.

“Let’s try that one more time, Jeongin-ah. You were a little ahead of the beat, but the tone was great.”

Your voice was softer now, warm and patient, the exact opposite of the sharpness it carried yesterday.

Jeongin, standing in the booth with his headphones around his neck, grinned sheepishly. “My bad, noona. I’ll get it this time.”

Changbin was across the room, leaned back on the couch, jaw tight.

He hadn’t meant to show up today, but Chan had asked all of 3RACHA to sit in on vocal comp sessions to help shape the new track. He didn’t expect you to be here, running the session.

He also didn’t expect to feel like this—on edge, watching you be kind. Just not to him.

Hyunjin stepped in next and you lit up a little, laughing quietly as he teased you about coffee orders and pitch correction. Felix arrived mid-session, bringing iced Americanos for everyone and getting a shoulder pat from you in thanks.

It was the same smile. The same voice. But something about it twisted inside him.

He hadn’t seen you smile like that at him in weeks.

Or maybe you never had.

“You want to add anything here?” Chan asked, nudging Changbin with his shoulder.

He snapped out of it. “What?”

Chan gave him a look. “You’ve been zoning out since Jeongin started. You alright?”

“Fine,” Changbin muttered. “It’s fine.”

You didn’t even glance over.

He hated that he noticed. Hated that it mattered.

Because the moment he raised his voice to you, everything changed—and now, you were polite. Civil. Friendly, even.

To everyone but him.

The session wrapped smoothly, and you gave each member clear notes and encouraging feedback, lingering in the booth with Felix a bit longer while he asked about his vocal placement.

Changbin stayed seated. Didn’t move. Just watched.

And when you finally turned off the mic and began packing up your laptop, your eyes met his for the briefest second.

Cool. Flat. Professional.

Then they moved on, like he wasn’t even there.

Studio A – Two Days Later

The door creaked open as you adjusted the mic stand, glancing up just as Seungmin walked in.

“Hey,” you said, giving him a small nod. “We’ll warm up with the second verse—don’t overthink the run at the end, it sounded clean last take.”

“Got it,” Seungmin replied, setting his water down and slipping on the headphones. He was always easy to work with—calm, focused, sharp. There was a quiet rhythm to your sessions together that didn’t need much fuss.

You clicked the track into play and leaned back in your chair, jotting down timestamps.

From the corner of the room, Changbin’s voice cut through. “He was flat on ‘breathe.’ Let’s take it again.”

You paused the track, head tilting. “I was going to do another take anyway.”

“But he’s flat,” Changbin said again, arms crossed, irritation already simmering behind his words.

Seungmin glanced between the two of you, lips pressed together like he knew where this was headed.

“He’s barely flat,” you countered, voice cool. “A little vocal warmth in that line sounds better than forcing it clean.”

Changbin’s laugh was dry. “Since when do we settle for barely?”

You blinked at him. “Since it fits the tone. Since it’s a creative choice. Since—”

“You’re ignoring technical flaws.”

“And you’re micromanaging.”

Silence settled over the room. Seungmin slowly slipped the headphones off, sensing it wasn’t his place to mediate.

Chan and Jisung were off in another studio today, and there was no one here to stop this one from unraveling.

“I’m just trying to make the song better,” Changbin muttered.

Your hands curled into fists, but your voice stayed even. “No, you’re trying to win something that doesn’t exist.”

He stiffened. You could see it—the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes flicked away like he didn’t want you to see what that line landed.

But you did. You saw it all.

You turned back to the board. “Seungmin, take five.”

He nodded quietly and stepped out.

The door shut behind him, and the silence that followed wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was personal.

“You never fight like this with anyone else,” Changbin said finally, voice low.

You didn’t turn. “Maybe because no one else turns every session into a battle.”

He stepped closer, tension radiating off him. “Or maybe you save the worst of you for me.”

You slowly turned your chair toward him, eyes narrowing. “You really want to go there right now?”

He looked at you, mouth opening like he had something else to say—but nothing came out. Just that same storm behind his eyes, one you weren’t sure either of you had the words to weather.

The studio was behind you, but his voice was still in your head.

You sat on the floor of your apartment, the light from your laptop casting pale shadows on the wall as your unfinished notes for the track blinked up at you. You hadn’t touched them since getting home.

Every little thing about today kept looping. The way Changbin looked at you like you were the one sabotaging things. Like he couldn’t separate you from the producer role. Like he didn’t want to.

You dropped your head into your hands, exhaling sharply.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Working with Stray Kids had been one of the most creatively fulfilling experiences of your career. But lately, it felt like every session with him chipped away at your confidence—at your patience. It wasn’t just professional disagreement anymore. It was personal. He made it personal.

A soft ping pulled you from your thoughts. A message from Chan.

hey, everything okay? you left kinda fast.

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the keys.

Then, another ping.

we want you here. the rest of us do. i do too. just… talk to me if you’re thinking of walking.

You didn’t respond. Not yet. You weren’t even sure what to say.

Because part of you was thinking about walking. Not because you wanted to quit, but because staying meant seeing him again. Fighting him again. And somewhere along the way, you’d stopped being sure if this friction was something you could work through—or something that had already broken too much.

You closed the laptop.

Maybe you just needed time. Maybe you needed distance.

But if Changbin noticed your silence tomorrow—or the next day, or the day after that—he’d know it wasn’t about the music anymore.

It was about him.

You arrived ten minutes early. Not to be productive. Just to breathe.

The studio lights were a little too bright, the coffee a little too bitter, and your reflection in the glass of the booth looked like someone else entirely. Still you—but muted. Quieter.

When the door opened and Changbin walked in, you didn’t even flinch.

"Morning," he said, cautiously.

You nodded. "Morning."

That was it.

The rest of the group trickled in slowly. Seungmin was first, offering a small smile your way. Chan and Han followed, already in mid-conversation about edits from the night before. When Hyunjin asked how you were, you said "good" and nothing else.

And when Changbin started talking through the plan for the day—tempo tweaks, layering ideas, minor adjustments to Seungmin’s part—you simply nodded. Took notes. Said, “Got it,” in the softest voice imaginable.

No pushback. No counters. No fire.

Chan glanced up from his laptop. Han did too.

Even Jeongin, who was just passing through with a banana milk in hand, paused and looked between you and Changbin.

The silence after one of Changbin’s notes stretched too long.

“Y/N?” he asked.

You blinked once, pulling yourself back. “That’s fine. Let’s go with that.”

“…Really?” There was something off in his tone.

You gave a small smile. “Yeah.”

He stared at you like he didn’t recognize you. Like your body had been taken over by someone else.

When Seungmin came in to record, you didn’t follow the usual back-and-forth. Just quietly adjusted levels, nodded at the right moments, and told him he sounded great. Even when he flubbed a note.

Seungmin looked uneasy. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said. Then added, “Let’s move on.”

You felt eyes on you the entire time. Mostly his.

Changbin’s voice was strained when he finally said, “We’re taking a break.”

No one argued.

You stood, turning away to tidy up some cords, not because they needed it—just to avoid his eyes.

Behind you, you heard him say it—low and frustrated.

“She’s not fighting anymore.”

And then Chan, quieter: “Yeah. That’s the problem.”

A break was needed. Where would be better than the studio breakroom? You didn’t hear him come in, but you knew it was him. The air always shifted with Changbin. Dense. Unsettled.

“Y/N.”

You didn’t respond. Not right away. Just kept staring into your coffee cup like it held the answers to everything you didn’t want to say out loud.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said. “Not with you pretending like nothing’s wrong.”

You finally looked up, but your expression was unreadable. “There’s nothing wrong. We’re working. That’s all we’ve ever done, right?”

He looked pained. “You’re not even trying to hide it anymore.”

“Hide what?” you snapped. “That I’m tired? That every time I open my mouth in a session, you shut me down or talk over me? You made me feel like shit in front of your members, Changbin. Constantly. And now you wanna have a heart-to-heart like none of that happened?”

His mouth opened, then closed. His fists clenched at his sides. “That’s not what I meant to do.”

“But you did it anyway.”

“I know,” he growled, frustrated. “I know I messed up, but that doesn’t change—” He stopped himself, voice catching before pushing forward. “It doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”

You blinked, stunned—but it didn’t land sweet. It felt heavy. Messy.

You laughed once, bitter. “You love me? Is that what this has been? Belittling me in front of everyone, picking fights, acting like I don’t know what I’m doing? That’s how you show love?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“But you did,” you cut in. “So what am I supposed to do with that? Just pretend it didn’t matter because you’ve decided now you’re in love with me?”

He stepped closer, but you held your ground.

“I’m not asking you to pretend,” he said, quieter now. “I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. The way I felt about you. I was stupid. I thought pushing you away would make it easier.”

You scoffed. “And did it?”

“No,” he admitted. “It made everything worse. Especially now that you won’t even look at me like you used to.”

You paused, jaw tightening. “I can’t forget how you made me feel.”

“I don’t want you to forget,” he said. “I want to earn it back. Every piece I broke.”

The silence stretched.

You looked away first, arms folding protectively across your chest. “I don’t trust you. Not yet.”

“I know,” he said, voice softer than you’d ever heard. “But don’t go. Not yet.”

You hesitated. Your hands tightened around your coffee cup.

“I’ll stay,” you said, barely above a whisper. “But only if you mean what you said—and if you’re ready to prove it.”

“I will,” he said without blinking. “Whatever it takes.”

Recording Studio – A Few Days Later

You hadn’t said much since that night. Not more than necessary. You showed up on time, prepped the session, and avoided looking at Changbin for too long. But he was there—already in the booth, headphones on, waiting for your cue.

Chan, Han, and Seungmin sat nearby, eyes flicking between the two of you like spectators waiting for the bell to ring.

You clicked the talkback mic. “Okay, Changbin. Let’s try verse two again.”

His eyes met yours through the glass, and instead of the usual nod and go, he… smiled. Genuinely. No sarcasm, no smugness.

“Got it, Y/N.”

You blinked. It was the first time in months he’d said your name without a bite.

He rapped the verse cleaner this time—focused, grounded. You let it finish before pressing the mic again.

“Good take,” you said. “But maybe try softening that last word. You’re punching it too hard for the tone.”

“Right,” he said immediately. “You’re right. I’ll do that.”

The room went still.

Jisung blinked. Chan raised his eyebrows. Even Seungmin looked up from his phone.

“Did he just—agree with her?” Jisung whispered to Chan.

“She didn’t have to fight him,” Seungmin added, stunned.

You ignored them, staring at the console, pretending your heart wasn’t skipping weirdly in your chest.

Another take. Another clean pass. No arguing. Just him listening.

When he came out of the booth, you stepped back to give him space. But he stopped next to you, one hand resting on the console, the other lightly brushing your notebook aside to glance at your notes.

“Thanks,” he said, softly. “You always know how to fix it.”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. He was so close, the studio lights painting shadows under his eyes.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Well…someone’s gotta make you sound good.”

He chuckled. Low, warm.

Jisung looked between you two, then stage-whispered to Chan, “Are they flirting or are we hallucinating?”

“You’re not hallucinating,” Chan muttered, rubbing his temple. “I don’t know what’s happening either.”

You tried not to smile as you turned back to the console. But when Changbin brushed past you—shoulder grazing yours—it lingered.

Something had changed.

And you weren’t sure what it was yet.

But for once, it didn’t feel like war.

[mediumgayitalian]

He hears him four cabins away. At minimum.

The thing about Will is that he is not a sneaky person. He tries to be — gods does he ever try — but it is so antithetical to who he is as a person that it never works out. He breaks out into hives if he lies, for Hades’ sake. Sometimes even when he withholds the truth. It’s hilarious.

Anyways, he wakes Nico up.

He hears the cream of the opening window and shoved his face into a pillow. There’s a way to open them without so much as a peep — Piper knows how, and Percy, and probably ninety-two percent of the rest of camp — but Will, in all honesty, probably can’t even hear it, as high-pitched as it is. The scuffle of his shoes on the smooth obsidian walls are equally as loud, somehow, and the oof he lets out as he lands on the marble floors face-first echo all the way to the lake.

It’s a wonder the harpies haven’t come squawking, honestly. Or maybe good karma.

“Psst,” Will actually, genuinely hisses. “Psst, Nico. You up?”

“No,” Nico lies. “I am sleeping ever so peacefully and ignoring the obnoxious intruder of my space.”

“Well, get up.” His feet have started to tap. Nico smothers his stupid widening grin into his hand — it’s not cute, it’s not. It’s dumb and embarrassing and ridiculous. Gods. What a freaking theatre kid.

Nico peeks one eye open, and Will is standing, shirt on backwards, scratching his calf, staring at the faintly-glowing altar in the back corner. His pupils are dilated.

“I want ice cream.”

Nico does not, technically, have much to do tomorrow.

There’s training. But there’s always training, really, and also he went to Tartarus, so how much worse can it get, really? What else is he training for? Tartarus Two: The Torture Trudges On? And there’s of course his afternoon class, but he can definitely sleep-walk his way through that one. He’ll wear sunglasses and tell the kids he’s evaluating them based on the level of maliciousness he feels in their energy. It has worked for him before.

He can go out for three in the morning ice cream.

But the principle of the thing.

“It’s witching hour, William.”

“You like witching hour.” 

Fair. 

“Plus! Ice cream.” He turns to face Nico, and he still can’t see, that at least Nico knows for sure, but he tilts his head and cocks his hip like he can. “Ice cream, Death Boy. Three a.m. bad decisions. Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not frothing at the mouth.”

Nico makes a show of patting down his dry face, just to bother him, except he realises he was in fact drooling in his sleep and has to then resist the urge to throw himself off a building. Gods. Will is lucky it's blacker than actual night in here or Nico would genuinely have to kill him and then himself. 

"Fine," he says hastily, rolling off his bed and slamming onto the floor. "Begone. I will meet you outside."

“You have two minutes,” Will warns, tapping at his watch. He turns resolutely around. He pauses. He turns again, sighs, then turns, or at least tries to, back to Nico’s general direction, but where he is actually staring, hands on his hips, is the wall, this time Nico does not even bother to hide his smile in his hands. “Could you maybe point me in the direction of the door, Mr. Vampire Freak?”

Nico puts gentle hands on Will’s shoulders, guiding him towards the ornate doorway. He offers absolutely no resistance, leaning into the pressure of Nico’s palms as he stumbles forward.

“Calling me a freak is going to restart my trauma,” Nico says loftily.

“Shut up.” A beat. “Sorry.”

“I’m teasing, you doofus.”

“Still. That was uncalled for.” He nearly brains himself on the doorway trying to turn around to face him. Nico darts out and tucks a protective hand over his forehead, just in time. Will butts his head into the hold affectionately. “You are not a freak.”

Something gross and gooey and soft melts in Nico’s sternum, and his lips twitch, and his chest warms, and fondness bleeds from him, from his pores, wrapping Will’s shoulders like shadow and blinking like gentle flame.

“I know that,” Nico says, shaking his head. “You are so strange. Get out of here. I need to put pants on.”

Will blinks. Nico counts four seconds. Will glances down, and his face heats something awful.

“You!!!” he whisper-shouts, over Nico’s snickering. “I’m going to!!!” He waves a hand. He waves again, ending in somewhat of an accusing point. “Ah!!!”

He rushes out the barely-open door, tripping over the front step and sprawling on his ass on the porch. Nico leans against the doorway, grin widening, arms crossed over his chest. Will stays curled on the floor, face in his hands, muttering to himself. It is so loud it — echoes. Right across the common. Two separate lights turn on.

He does not notice.

Nico loves him so much he envisions grabbing his pillow and beating him to a coma with the force of it. Instead, he rushes inside and pulls on the first pair of jeans he sees.

“Okay,” he yawns, nudging Will’s prone form with the toe of his shoe. “Let’s go.”

“Finally,” Will mumbles. He stays in his ball of misery for five seconds. He gets up. He pauses, breathing in, breathing out. He, realisinf Nico has left him behind, scrambles to catch up, tripping over a rock and very nearly pitching right down Half-Blood Hill. “I want — soft serve.”

“No,” Nico says easily.

“It’s better! It’s — smooth!”

They reach the road. Nico raises a hand as if summoning a taxi, barely managing to grab Will’s collar and yank him back from the road before a shiny, shadow-black SUV melts into existence at the speed of Fast and kills him dead.

“It’s a disgrace, William. It is an abomination of modern hubris.”

“You’re — you’re just like your father, you know that, you —”

Nico’s jaw drops.

“That’s is an evil fucking thing to say to me —”

Will is so loud, he can’t help it, everywhere he goes, he stumbles through doorways and trips over air and whistles as he walks and tap tap taps his ever-moving fingers. Will is loud, he is lively, Will is life, personified, every inch of him glows golden.

The issue is that Nico is loud when he’s around him, too. Like he forgets to keep quiet.

“—that’s that, Solace.” He yanks the sliding door open, hovering in the frame. “Hard ice cream or no ice cream for you. That’s that.”

Will huffs. It’s just barely bright enough outside — there’s moonlight — for him to be facing the right direction, this time, back to Thalia’s tree, as he crosses his arms and taps his foot and pouts like that will get him anywhere.

Nico stares right back, back to the SUV, ignoring Jules-Albert’s grumbling.

He will not give in this time. 

He will not.

“I really just think soft ice cream will help the homesick,” Will mumbles. He kicks at the too-long grass. “It’s — tour season. Mama and I always went to DQ during tour season.”

“Oh —Jesus fucking Christ.”

Will has won and he knows he has, because he can muffle a smile but he’s never been able to fight back that victorious little giggle, because he is loud, and Nico hates him.

Toujours il te déjoue, et toujours, tu lui permets.

Nico scowls.

“Your job is to drive, Jules-Albert; if I wanted a critic I would have summered Ebert.”

Jules-Albert smiles at him. Due to the rotting flesh and tooth decay, it is horrifying, but unfortunately not horrifying enough to distract him from Will’s smug lean, his bright smile.

“If you don’t stop humming We Are The Champions I’m going to fucking gut you,” Nico threatens.

“Mhm. Perhaps. But then you would have no one to bully you, and you will be miserable.”

Jules-Albert barks a laugh, and offers Will a high-five.

“I will crack a chasm open onto this road! I swear to the gods! I will blow up this car!”

———

It takes twenty-two minutes to get to the nearest Dairy Queen.

Nico practically flees out of the car.

“I thought you were too tired for ice cream,” Will teases, jogging after him.

Nico scowls at him. “I am never doing anything with you ever again as long we both shall live.”

“Sure thing,” says Will absentmindedly. He links their arms together, humming at the menu. Nico’s lungs shrivel up and retire. “I’m only friends with you for the infinite credit card, anyway.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The Dairy Queen is silent at nearly four in the morning. Even the machines hold their breath, sole employee communicating entirely in nods and slow blinks.

Will’s laugh is like rolling summer thunder.

Nico feels like he is suffocating, like the humidity of the air churns solid in his chest.

———

In the cold of the late-night DQ air, table sticking to his elbows, a flip-flopped foot kicks his ankle.

“Hey.”

“What,” Nico grumps, shoving a spoonful of Oreo Blizzard Extreme into his mouth. It is mediocre.

There is a dot of ice cream on Will’s nose. Unrelated, there has been an endless loop of anguished screaming yearning in the back of Nico’s mind for the past seven minutes.

“Thank you.”

“Hmph.”

Will smiles. His nose scrunches with it, and the ice cream smears across his freckles. Nico’s heart explodes, just like that. Probably due to the ice cream. Sugar clogs arteries, or something like that.

“I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you need a ride home. And because I paid, you broke pain in the ass.”

He smiles wider. His blue eyes shine darker than midnight, darker than Oreos, and for a desperate breathless moment Nico drowns in his pupils.

“True. But also.”

He kicks Nico’s ankles again.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

The half-frozen brownie lodges in his throat, and Nico swallows, and swallows, and swallows. Will’s eyes ger brighter, and brighter, and brighter.

“Yeah,” he says, reedy. He swallows. Will ducks his head. “Anytime.”

[whenisthefall]

After a little session of love making Eddie quickly throwing away the covers on top of him to get up saying “oh yeah I forgot—“ 

“Forgot what….?” 

You’re already moving towards his side of the bed more, the warmth still lingering there as you watch him throw on his boxers before grabbing his guitar off the wall.

“Well…..I was working on a song for you earlier” 

A smile spreads across your face because you knew he was a true romantic at heart with that boyish smile and how he looks for you every time he walks into a room. 

“Yeah? Let’s hear it rockstar.” 

His heart flutters at the nickname, you get a little more comfortable on his side of the bed, eyes trained on the flesh of his body, the scars that linger on his chest and the  back of this thighs as he sits down on a stool. 

You’re eager to hear as Eddie plugs in all the cords to his amp, he strums about three times before he opens his mouth to sing. But a broken word come out instead. 

He tries again, but this time the lyric is even higher than the last and you can’t help but giggle.

“No- wait, hold on I’ll get it.” 

He coughs into his fist before trying again, but his voice is so high it sounds like a little girl at the playground every time he try’s to sing. 

He can hear you stifling a laugh and he silently closes his eyes and bows his head, this cheeks being dusted with a delicate pink. Too embarrassed to even try to talk because of his voice cracking.

“Oh no! Come on Ed’s I really wanted to hear it!” 

You giggle as you watch him admit defeat and unplugs his guitar, Setting it aside as he walks back over to the bed and lays down on top of you, his head brushing against the tops of your breasts. 

“Try again later?” 

Your hand goes into his curls and he nods before letting out a high pitched. “Yea—“ 

Before coughing once more playing it up as he says “I mean yes” in the lowest voice he can muster. 

[eufezco]

𝙀𝙐𝙋𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙄𝘼 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 ࿐ྂ

𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙀𝙎 : fezco, nate jacobs, jules vaughn

♡️ fluff ☆ angst ☽ smut

english isn't my first language !!!

my other masterlists ✨

FEZCO

YOU TELL HIM YOU'RE PREGNANT PT.2 | ♡️ ☆

I SENT HER BACK TO HER BOYFRIEND WITH MY HANDPRINT ON HER ASS CHEEK | ☽

NEW DRESS | ☽ x plus size!reader

you're feeling insecure about how your body looks in your new dress so he shows you how much he likes it before you leave.

HE EATS YOU OUT | ☽

SHOPPING DAY | ☽

you go shopping with him and stop at a lingerie store. you try some sets and he ends up into the dressing room with you.

YOU ASK HIM TO CHOKE YOU | ☽

NIGHT INTERRUPTED | ☽

your lovely night with him gets interrupted when rue knocks on his door looking for drugs.

EXPLORING KINKS | ☽

NOT YET | ♡️ ☽

he won't touch you, not yet, not until you've finished high school.

DRUNK IN LOVE | ♡️

you're at a party with your friends and you've drank too much. fezco takes you home and takes care of you.

VIRGINITY LOSS | ☽

OUT OF THE WOODS | ♡️ ☆ x jacobs!reader

after a fight with your dad, cal jacobs, and your brother, nate, you text fez to come and save you from your disastrous household.

FRIENDS TO LOVERS | ♡️ ☆

NATE JACOBS

NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT | ☽

nate finds your dildo and he's not happy about it. why do you need something like that when you have him?

JULES VAUGHN

FUCKING INVENCIBLE | ♡️ ☆

at a party at nate's place, you meet the new girl in town when she has to face him.

[natailiatulls07]

Jules Bianchi x Daughter!reader

Charles Leclerc x little sister!reader

Summary - A little walk to Pascale salon turns into an anxiety attack because of some intrusive fans (I have changed the request slightly, I hope you don't mind x)

Warning - Mention of Jules Bianchi, fans being intrusive, anxiety attack (It's not that descriptive), multiple mentions of being in the public eye/limelight

A/n - Tumblr is being a bit weird rn so I'm gonna try and post this again lol x

Marguerite

-

Being in the public eye does have its consequences, espercially when your father is considered a formula one legend and your guardian/older brother is a very popular current formula one driver.

One of these consequences is anxiety, it's something Y/n developed from a very young age. Of course she has her coping mechanisms and the people in her inner circle know how to help her.

-

It was a slow day for Marguerite. She didn't have any classes and she'd have the apartment to herself today. Usually she'd have Tom, her boyfriend, round to hang out but he was busy.

The day started out okay; Y/n had caught up with any unfinished assignments before relaxing in the living room. Rewatching her favourite show and playing with Leo.

Alexandra and Charles were out all day, leaving the dog with the younger girl. Charles had a press event for his ice cream brand, Lec, and Y/n knew that it'd be hard to contact the pair.

Normally Marguerite would join them, but she felt as though she hadn't stopped recently. Between grand prixs, school, social events and travel, she hadn't had a proper break in a long while. Don't get me wrong; she loves her life and she's forever grateful for the privileges, opportunities and things she gets but a girl needs a break ever so often.

Around about half day, she decided that Leo and herself needed some fresh air so Y/n quickly got everything ready. Hooking the lead to Leo's collar, allowing the excited dog to slip through the front door before following in suit.

Marguerite was wearing a basic outfit, no effort at all, just hoping that she wouldn't be recognized. Particularly in Monaco, Y/n is usually seen and recongized.

"Right, let's go Leo.."

-

The sun shined down on Y/n and Leo as they casually strolled past the harbour, she thought about walking up to Le Quai 28. It had been a long time since she's seen Pascale.

Yeah it was a bit of a walk but that meant less time confined to a stuffy apartment which was needed.

They were half way there when things started to go down hill. The sun had decided to hide behind a grey gloomy cloud. With a soft huff, Marguerite quickened the pace hoping to avoid the impending rain.

But her new pace came to a stop when three girls, alittle bit older than her, came rushing to her. They all had excited and giddy smiles on their faces. It scared her slightly.

"Hey, we love you, Charles, Alexandra! Oh and Leo, like oh my god hi!" Y/n knew they meant well but the continuous squeals and giggle made her slightly uncomfortable. Espercially today, she wasn't feeling social interactions with strangers really.

In her hand Marguerite felt Leo trying to tug on the lead, just like her he was just as uncomfortable.

But it only got worse. The sudden attention on Marguerite caused more people to notice her and Leo. She painted a forced smile to her face, the smile not meeting her eyes - not that anyone really noticed. More people started to crowd around her.

"Can you give me a shoutout on your social media? It would mean the world to me!"

"Y/n! Y/n! Can I have a photo please?"

"What's your favorite memory of Jules? It must be incredible to grow up as his daughter!"

That last comment stung slightly. Y/n loved to honour her late father but sometimes when strangers ask about her childhood with him, it's something she wants to keep for herself.

To her, it felt intrusive. You wouldn’t go up to a random stranger asking about their favourite memory from childhood.

Looking down Marguerite noticed how flustered and unsettled the poor small dog had gotten. Quickly she bent down to pick him up which relaxed him luckily.

"Excuse me, I- I would love to stay, chat and take photos...but I have to be somewhere.." She felt her pulse pick up and her smile fell slight before she was quick to bring the corners of lips up again.

After pushing past the crowd, her quick pace was resumed only this time alittle bit quicker.

Everything had flipped upside down for Marguerite, her anxiety had gone crazy unfortunately.

Tears clouded on her waterline, quick and short intakes of breaths pushed passed her lips. She hadn't put down Leo yet, she wasn't even planning on doing so.

Y/n wanted to call Charles and Alexandra but she knew that she wouldn't get an answer so making a mad dash to Pascale would be her best option.

It didn't take long for the two to arrive at Pascales salon, rushing in as the tears started to fall over a plump cheeks. Heads turned but they all knew her. Pascale was excited to see the young girl and the small dog, however that excitement fell short when she noticed the anxiety attack happening.

She moved towards the teen, taking Marguerite into her arms. Pascale had a slight idea of what had happened. It wasn't the first time.

She spent the next hour calming down Y/n, letting her and Leo relax in the back office. After a while, the older women decided that she'd call Charles to take Marguerite home.

First call…ringtone.

Second call…ringtone.

Third times a charm…ringtone.

Her shoulders slumped at the unsuccessful third attempt, her manicured nails raking through her hair. As much as she loved Marguerite and Leo, Pascale knew this wasn’t the place for her to be in this state - She needed to be home.

“I think you might have to wait here for a little while Marguerite…until Charles or Alexandra pick up..”

Pascale had sympathy for the young girl, growing up in the limelight wasn’t something that came easy to anyone really.

-

Around about two hours later, Y/n’s phone started to buzz and Charles’ photo filled her screen. She was quick to pick up the phone and answer the call.

“Hi Charlie..”

Her voice was quiet and soft. And little sniffles came from her nose every so often.

On the other side of the call stood Alexandra and Charles back at the apartment, both confused as to where the teenager and the dog had gone.

“Hey Marguerite, where are you? Are you alright?” His voice was filled with concern and confusion. He was glad to hear her voice but it sounded different.

“Y-yeah…I’m with Pascale and Leo at the salon…” Charles watched as Alexandra picks up his keys, they’d meet her at the salon. “Charlie…I had an anxiety attack..”

You see the driver knew of her anxiety, he was similar and they could relate to each other. But it broke him to know that he wasn’t there to help her in a time in need, something he vowed to the late Jules to do in his honour.

Y/n took in another breath of air, relaxing herself once again. “I was walking with Leo and then…a bunch of fans came and bombarded me…really shook me”

There were annoyed frowns on the older couples faces, they truly love the fans but especially not when they do things like that. They just wished they’d understand respect and privacy.

“Okay..I’m so sorry Marguerite, we’re on our way to the salon now…you and Leo sit tight and relax”

Alexandra’s voice rang through the phone call, she always had a reassuring tone to her voice - Something Y/n always really appreciated.

“Hmm…guys?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you and thank you…” Their hearts just swelled.

“We love you too Marguerite..” Charles voice echoed back through to her, making sure she felt that same love and thankfulness she had for them.

-

[vicolette]

Looking Good !

– A/N : I NEED to upload more omg

– Warnings : English isn’t my first language, mentions of y/n & pet names, not proofread

"That doesn't really suit you."

At your boyfriend's words, you turned around to face him instead of the mirror, seeing how Jules' eyes were focused on you with precise attention.

"What doesn't suit?" Kounde pointed towards the red top, which you had bought just the previous day with your friends on a girl's night out. Its fabric wasn't the best and it also wasn't your personal favorite, yet your friends had persuaded you into buying it.

Nonetheless, as you took it off of you, Kounde was quick to lower his head as to avert getting you embarrassed. Mindlessly playing with his fingers, he was oblivious to the stunt that you would pull up after that.

"And this?" Once Jules looked up, just to be greeted by the sight of you in a Madrid Jersey, herausreden an eyebrow at your silly tactics and met your eyes. Meanwhile, you were completely innocently looking, having to contain your laughter.

After a few moments of pure silence, he stood up and slowly approached you, although he hesitated to come any closer when he was at arm length. The scowl on his face only made it harder for you to keep quiet and soon enough, laughter filled the room with tears of joy filling your eyes.

"Y-Your expression, oh my god-" Before you could say anything else, he sighed softly while coming closer, his hands on your hips before he reluctantly touched the jersey.

As he pulled it over your head and looked at the price tag, Kounde found out that it was on sale, which was why you must have bought it willingly.

"Darling, you know that I love you very much, right?" While you were nearly dying due to getting no air inside your lungs, Jules checked the shopping bags and decided that none of the items were worth it, even if you had great style and knew how to dress – after all, he was your boyfriend.

He would never ever in his life let you go outside without looking good.

When he saw how you merely cackled straight to his face instead of changing into something else, he searched for one of his FC Barcelona jerseys and threw it over your head.

After a few long, long moments of you trying to catch your breath, you waved your hand at him in an attempt to motion him to approach, which he did as he also wrapped an arm around your waist in addition.

"You look better like this." Jules said in a quiet murmur, planting a soft kiss near your neck as his arms secured you in a firm embrace. Your cheeks slightly heated up in embarrassment, but you were quick to ruin the moment. As always.

"Yeah, but have you seen-"

"Shut up."

– A/N : my man my man my man my ma

[amberjazmyn]

oh my god we're having a baby! 🫶

pairing : charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary : all the moments leading up to the birth of baby leclerc 

warnings : mentions of herve leclerc and jules bianchi, pregnancy, happy tears, some dodgy french translations in tiny italicised text, reader has a name (lilia)

a/n : this is for sure a one-shot i'm also going to do for carlos just because i love the idea of c2 as dad's lol - anyways, enjoy my lovers and don't feel shy about putting in a request or a comment

finding out about the pregnancy

lilia leclerc felt like shit. for the last two weeks she had been waking up at the break of dawn, sprinting down the hallway and straight to the bathroom. puking her guts up for an hour only to lose the nausea and disgusting scent and taste of vomit for the rest of the day. thankfully, this had been happening during the summer break so charles wasn't away racing since he was a well-known formula one driver for the scuderia ferrari. 

"...mon ange my angel, are you okay?" charles' morning voice his wife found so attractive came up from behind her

"sorry, did i wake you, bebe baby?" lilia whined, lifting her head up out of the toilet as charles breathed a sigh of relief 

"no, i've been awake for a couple of minutes. are you sure you're okay?" charles lowered himself down to reach his wife, a comforting hand on her back 

"i still feel bad that you're awake, charlie! it's summer break, you should be relaxing! and, honestly, i've been feeling like shit the last two weeks..." lilia trailed off as her eyes widened and it seems as though charles' did as well 

"...two weeks this has been going on? bebe, when was the last time you got your period?" charles asked, remembering that it had now been an entire year since she had her birth control implant removed 

her eyes widened even more, "umm, the last time i got my period?" charles nodded his head, "i...i don't know? i can't remember the last time i had my period..." lilia was now slightly worried that she was now pregnant 

not because she didn't want to be pregnant. of course she did. it was her biggest dream to be a mum. in the same way it was charles' biggest dream to become a dad. however, with him now as the number one driver for ferrari, she was worried that maybe right now wasn't the right time. they hadn't even been married for a full year yet and the topic of babies hadn't been mentioned since lilia had went to get her birth control implant removed because her and charles were wanting to start the journey of trying for kids. however, during that period, every time lilia missed a period or thought she had morning sickness like right now, all the tests she and charles excitedly took always came back negative. so, they gave up and just decided to stop trying so hard with the hope that maybe, the one time that they weren't trying so hard, that they'd get a positive. 

"...bebe, do you still have any pregnancy tests left from months ago?" charles then questioned after silence as lilia nodded her head, the nausea suddenly disappearing in the same way and at the same time like it had been the last two weeks 

"umm, yeah, i think so. they should be in the top shelf next to the basin," lilia sat up more, leaning against the wall, charles taking a proper look at his wife 

and it was clear that like every other day the past two weeks, the nausea was gone and she was no longer pale and sweaty. at this point, there was no other explanation other than lilia being pregnant. in charles mind, this was the worst bout of morning sickness he had ever seen her go through. even during all the negatives when they were actually trying to get pregnant, all the signs and symptoms they thought were because of pregnancy were never at this extreme. 

so, charles grabbed the pregnancy tests and gave them to his wife. only hoping and praying that a miracle would happen. at this point, with charles job being so hectic, it was clear that now he was married, he was beyond ready to start the motions of slowing down and building a life outside of formula one. and, he had already completed the first step by making lilia his wife. now, his next step was making them maman and papa. 

after lilia had taken three of the pregnancy tests, now it was the waiting game for mr and mrs leclerc. and it was agonizing. the waiting was the worst part of it all. charles and lilia were usually patient people however, when it came to waiting for the results of something as life-changing as a pregnancy test, it was brutal and excruciating. they just wanted to know if they were going to be parents or not. it didn't make sense to them that they had to wait an entire three minutes to see if the pregnancy tests had come out as positive or negative. 

and three minutes later, their life was forever changed. with her phone recording every moment of this, the best moment of the video was when it had been captured that all three pregnancy tests had come back positive as well as the reactions of lilia and charles. lilia had unknowingly been pregnant for an entire trimester when she and charles went to visit her ob/gyn just to make sure the positives weren't false later on in the week. 

"...oh my gosh...charles...i'm pregnant!" lilia whispered, her hands shaking as she handed him the three tests that all read positive - the iphone camera still recording

charles' eyes immediately welled with tears as his hand covered his mouth, "je suis tellement heureux! nous allons être parents, chérie!" his voice cracked, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pulled his wife in for a hug i'm so happy! we're going to be parents, darling

not caring that this video of him crying over finding out his wife was pregnant would eventually be made into a youtube video and put on the internet, charles was overjoyed with emotions that he didn't care that he was crying his eyes out. at this point, he was now just waiting for the moment that he could shout this secret out to the world. 

announcing the pregnancy

and thankfully, charles and lilia leclerc wouldn't have to wait too long before they could announce the exciting news for the whole world to see. after doing a cheeky photoshoot with the help of charles' brothers, arthur and lorenzo, the married couple posted the photos to their instagrams in a joint post. using that as their announcement to those that they couldn't tell in person. having only told charles' family as well as lilia's in person. sadly, the rest of the f1 grid, because it was summer break, found out over text in their cheeky little f1 group chat that they have together. but, to fully announce it publically, they decided an instagram post by the both of them would be their best bet. 

liked by arthurleclerc, leclerc_pascale, maxverstappen1, scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 12,000k others

charlesleclerc and lilialeclerc well, how has your summer break been everyone? this has been ours, the leclerc's continue to grow 

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arthurleclerc do you know how hard it's been to keep this secret for? 

charlesleclerc arthurleclerc how do you think i feel? 

leclerc_pascale my babies are having babies! 

lilialeclerc leclerc_pascale we love you maman, we can't wait for baby leclerc to meet her grand-mère

maxverstappen1 congratulations you two! you'll be amazing parents! 

lilialeclerc maxverstappen1 thank you maxie! we cannot wait!

scuderiaferrari cannot wait to meet the little leclerc! making all the baby ferrari merch as we speak

lilialeclerc scuderiaferrari and we'll be the first to purchase the merch!

carlossainz55 congratulations, baby leclerc will be the most spoilt baby in the world! 

lilialeclerc carlossainz55 thank you carlitos! and yes she will and we cannot wait to shower her with all of it

pierregasly congratulations to you guys! i call being godfather! 

lilialeclerc pierregasly thank you pierre and don't be announcing things too early!

finding out the gender of the baby

the next exciting milestone for baby leclerc after announcing the news was finding out the gender. even though charles and lilia wanted to wait until birth so it could be a surprise, which is what they had told the technician at their last appointment and she respected that. but, it was at their most recent appointment that when it was offered to tell them the gender, that they couldn't wait any longer. they just had to be told now that the ob/gyn had mentioned it that she could absolutely tell them the gender of their baby if they had changed their minds about waiting until the birth. 

"...lilia and charles, from the looks of these scans, baby looks amazing which is always what we want to hear. and now because it's gotten to the point where we are absolutely confident about the gender, if you guys have changed your mind and no longer want to wait until birth, would you like me to tell you guys the gender of your baby?" the ob/gyn asked, her smile bright and her voice soft and calm 

with her head trying to look over at the ultrasound screen so she could see the baby, it was clear that the husband and wife were done with waiting and were wanting to know the gender of their baby. 

"i know we said we wanted to wait but, is it okay if we get told the gender? i don't think we can wait any longer!" lilia giggled in embarrassment, her face flushing a sweet pink colour as the technician nods her head and smiles back 

"*giggles* i can absolutely do that for you, lilia and charles! so many mums, first time ones especially, think they have the patience when it comes to knowing their baby's gender but they never do. so, this happens majority of the time however, i think by the time you get to your second or third, you become more comfortable with having the patience to wait until the birth to find out the gender," the techncian giggles which causes lilia and charles to giggle as well 

their 'guilt' of not being patient enough dwindles away quickly for the leclercs as the technician quickly prints out two pieces of paper. one that shows the gender of the baby on a printed out ultrasound photo and another one that has the colour to indicate if the baby is a boy or a girl.

but, before giving them the documentation and the little coloured square, she tells them, "so, if you just look here, at the screen, lilia and charles, i am happy to announce that you guys are having a baby girl..." the technican announces, a soft smile covering her face as she notices the tears that had welled up in the eyes of charles had made their way down his cheeks, lilia's face not too far away from being identical to her husbands 

"...oh wow..." charles' voice breaks, his lips trembling and his shaky hand that wasn't squeezing his wife's shoulder was over his mouth to cover his shaking smile that took over his entire face

lilia could only smile at how emotional her husband was getting at the news of them having a baby girl. however, if she had looked at the image on the ultrasound screen of their baby girl, she too would have cried the same exact way as charles currently was. 

"...oh, bébé, ne pleure pas. c'est bon!" lilia giggled, her voice lightly emotional as she brushed her hand against charles' chin as his tears weren't stopping, the ob/gyn now out of the room oh, baby, don't cry! it's okay

"j'essaye mais je ne peux pas m'arrêter de pleurer!" the husband and wife giggled, charles' tears really weren't stopping, even with the amount of tissues lilia had given to him in an effort to stop them i'm trying but i can't stop crying

finally, five minutes later, charles's tears did eventually stop and after notifying their ob/gyn, lilia got cleaned up from the gel that was used for the ultrasound and after getting some additional information about when their next appointment was, their current appointment was finished. and then they were allowed to leave their appointment with an extra exciting piece of news that their baby leclerc was a girl. now all they had to do was announce in some sort of other interesting way that they were having a little girl. and, the way they did that was with a gender reveal cake that they had done together. since lilia's mum and sister were bakers, she asked them to make the cake, telling them it was a girl which was a very sweet moment. 

then, announcing it to everyone else, with that cake, charles and lilia with their two plastic wine glasses, dug them into the cake and out to reveal the pink buttercream icing that was in the middle of the all white loveheart cake. 

liked by francisca.cgomes, maxverstappen1, leclerc_pascale, kellypiquet, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 21k

charlesleclerc and lilialeclerc baby leclerc is a girl 🩷

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francisca.cgomes i'm still crying! baby girl is going to be so loved and spoilt by her aunty kika! 

lilialeclerc francisca.cgomes don't cry you'll make me cry! baby girl loves her aunty kika already!

maxverstappen1 baby leclerc's now going to be even more spoilt 🩷

lilialeclerc maxverstappen1 of course she is! wouldn't expect anything less from her uncle maxie!

leclerc_pascale cannot wait to meet my first granddaughter 🩷

lilialeclerc leclerc_pascale she can't wait to meet you either, maman 🩷

kellypiquet having a baby girl is wonderful! you guys will be amazing girl parents 🩷

lilialeclerc kellypiquet we truly cannot wait, kelly! 

pierregasly this little girl is blessed with the best parents and aunties and uncles! 

charlesleclerc pierregasly you just made lilia cry! 

carlossainz55 charles as a girl dad is for sure what i expected 🩷

charlesleclerc carlossainz55 another comment that has made my beautiful pregnant wife cry

the birth of baby leclerc

since finding out the gender and before lilia went into labour, it was coming to the end of the summer break before the season started back up again. and because lilia was pregnant, it had felt like summer break had just come and gone by the click of a finger when really, to the other wags and drivers, it felt like the summer break had started to drag on towards the end. but, because lilia wasn't too far away from giving birth, fred vassuer, ferrari's team principal, had actually very sweetly, given charles early paternal leave so he could at least be in monaco when lilia gives birth. which meant that ollie bearman, the reserve driver for ferrari who was still driving for f2 was once again brought in after he had his debut whilst carlos had his appendix taken out at the beginning of the season. however, all the drivers had kept the leclerc's in the loop about what was going on and how midseason training had been progressing since charles had been exempt from that as well since lilia was so far along that it was now a matter of when not if to the date of her falling into labour during the first week back of the season. 

and it seemed as though no one was more ready for the day that lilia fell into labour then charles. it had been a quite slow, lazy day for the family of two until it had become obvious that they were now hours from becoming a family of three. 

lilia had been feeling as though the little baby had dropped even lower in her womb as though the little girl was ready to be welcomed into the world. however, it wasn't until she tried to move herself off of the exercise ball and her waters broke that she realised it was finally time for the baby to be born! 

"...charles...i think my waters just broke..." lilia's voice came out as shaky and it was the first time she had sounded so scared, her eyes huge and frightened at her husband who shot up from his spot on the kitchen counter 

"...okay...it's okay bebe, just breathe alright? we'll be fine, we know what we're doing, i'm here, you're here! everything that we need is in the car so all we now need to do is get ourselves into the car and down to the hospital! just keep on breathing baby, you are doing perfectly well!" charles' voice came out as strong, confident and completely sure of himself and what he was doing 

it broke his heart to see the tough exterior that his wife had put up throughout her entire pregnancy finally falter at the exact moment of her waters breaking. whilst it wasn't obvious to everyone, not even fully obvious to charles since she wasn't one to let anyone know, but it was clear to charles just from this interaction as they got into their car to drive to the hospital, that lilia was utterly terrified to actually get to this stage of the pregnancy and give birth. everyone that knew lilia knew she hated showing fear but, if she was to show fear about any place or anything, it was the hospital. to her, the hospital meant bad things. to her, the hospital meant death and despair. because for lilia, every time she had been in a hospital, it ended with her on the sterile floor in hysterics because someone she loved had died. 

with charles' strength and confidence on the way to the hospital that everything was going to be okay, it was clear that that strength wasn't going to stay for the entire duration of the labour and delivery of their little girl. because, like every other to be father before him, charles was always confused why so many new fathers would be crying whilst watching their wife/significant other give birth. it made sense if their partner was crying since it was them doing all the hard work of growing the baby for nine months and then giving birth to the baby. however, what charles was yet to realise was the reason why the new fathers would be so emotional. it wasn't a lie that it made charles upset to see his wife in so much pain. it was agonizing for charles whenever he had to bear witness to his wife being in pain or in tears. however, he didn't realise just how upset he would be to see his wife in the excruciating pain that she went through whilst giving birth to their baby girl. 

from the very beginning of the leclerc's arriving at the hospital in monte-carlo, it was obvious that this labour wasn't going to be an easy simple one. it was going to take hours and it was going to be painful and excrucitating. at first, they had hoped that lilia would be able to have a natural birth however, it had been discovered quite quickly that a natural birth was not going to be happening. so, they had to unfortunately induce lilia and have the baby delivered via c-section and the entire time, charles had to watch helplessly whilst his wife was put under, having no clue what was going on and that their little girl had been born. 

the entire time that his and lilia's little girl had been delivered via induced c-section, charles was inconsolable. he was crying more than he was the last time they had an appointment about baby leclerc. the midwifes and other doctors and nurses that were in charge of taking care of his wife could tell just how much agony and grief this entire situation had put charles through but they couldn't do anything more than offer him comforting words and comforting hugs whilst they assured him that both his baby and his wife were fine and that as soon as baby was out, that lilia would be taken out of the induction and would be woken up again. 

however, those words of comfort and sweet hugs only did so much. it wasn't until the cries of his little baby girl and of his wife were heard, announcing to the world that both baby and mum were okay that charles would finally breathe. now the tears pouring down his cheeks weren't tears of agony, fear and grief but of relief and utmost joy that he was finally a dad to the most gorgeous looking baby he had ever locked eyes with. 

with his head resting against the hospital bed, his hand tangled in lilia's hair and the other one hovering over the back of their little girl, charles was in heaven. he finally understood why new fathers got so emotional when their partners gave birth to their children. it all made sense to him now that it had happened to him. not only were the tears there because it was excruciating watching his wife in so much pain but also because it now settled in that he was now a father himself. the tears no longer tears of grief and agony but of pure happiness and joy. he was now the parent of this little miracle that was laying atop her mother's body, their breathing intertwining into one whilst charles kept his focus on his two girls. tears still streaming down his cheeks, quietly this time, the sobs no longer present as he was now as calm as the little girl that was fast asleep on the body of her mother. 

finally, lilia spoke up in their native french, whispering, "...même si j'aime le calme, nous devons choisir un nom pour notre petite fille, char..." the look on his wife's face as she said that was never going to leave charles' mind as he smiled at her as much as i love the quiet, we need to choose a name for our little girl, char

"...et juliette marie antoinette leclerc? jules pour faire court?" charles whispered back, his voice sounding light like a feather as lilia smiled at the name choice what about juliette marie antoinette leclerc? jules for short

"juliette marie antoinette leclerc...c'est un personnage parfait." lilia smiled sweetly, her lips kissing his cheek, not able to reach his forehead due to the way she was inclined in the hospital bed juliette marie antoinette leclerc...it's perfect char

wiping away one of many tears from her husband's cheeks, she then picked up little jules and wordlessly gestured if he wanted to hold their little girl. since he still hadn't done that yet since there was so many things going on that he hadn't yet had the chance to even get his first skin to skin with his daughter yet. 

"tu veux tenir jules, char?" lilia questioned, her voice getting tired as charles didn't hesitate in nodding his head you want to hold jules, char

and magically, as if lilia's midwife had powers of some sort, just as the husband and wife were getting ready to do the safe handover of baby jules from mum to dad, the midwife entered the hospital room. 

"mum, dad? sorry to bother you but, there are some guests that are itching to meet the little one...but, first, does dad want to hold her and does the little one have a name?" the midwife, emilia, smiled, slowly walking into the room and closing the door behind her as the new parents smiled up at the health professional 

"hey, you aren't bothering us at all, emilia, and we'd love to have the guests come in but, yeah, charles is wanting to hold her since he wasn't able to earlier because of everything that had happened. and, yeah, we have actually just finished up the name conversation, little leclerc finally has a name," lilia giggled as emilia smiled, walking over to the computer so she could input the name into the birth certificate that was to be printed out 

"amazing! i'll let the guests in soon after we give daddy and baby some skin to skin which i'll help with so, no worries there. but, now that you've mentioned that you've got a name for the little one, i'll be happy to hear it!" emilia smiled excitedly with a cheeky giggle as they quickly decided that inputting the name first would be the better option and then have emilia show and help charles in holding their little girl

 "thank you, emilia! and baby's name is juliette marie antoinette leclerc," lilia announces as emilia's face scrunches up, a hand on her heart as she types it out on the birth certificate 

"any meaning behind the adorable name?" emilia asks as she finishes typing before sending it off to the receptionist printer 

"juliette for charles' godfather jules bianchi, marie because it was my mum's name, antoinette for one of charles friends who we lost during an f2 race, anthoine hubert. i think we'll name our second baby after charles' dad," lilia explained as charles nodded his head, the joy in his eyes not going way even at the mention of the fact that every single name of his daughter was in tribute of someone he's lost in his life, with the exemption of lilia's mother, marie and his dad who was going to be honoured in baby number two's name

emilia smiled softly, "that's a perfect name and i'm sure jules, marie, anthoine and even herve are bursting at the seams with joy from wherever it is they are watching from. baby jules is going to be so protected. well, the birth certificate has now been sent for printing at the receptionist printer but whilst we wait for that, lilia if you could give me juliette, i'll now be able to assist charles in his first skin to skin with her," emilia moves away from the computer and to lilia's bed and without hesitation, lilia happily hands baby juliette over to her 

emilia then holds baby juliette easily as she waits for charles to take off his shirt and figure out whether or not he's comfortable to stand for his first hold of his baby or if he'd feel more comfortable sitting down. deciding to sit down first, just to be safe, emilia easily hands baby juliette over to her daddy and instantly, baby juliette just curls into her dad's body with ease. as though she was her dad's missing piece. holding his baby girl felt like heaven and earth had finally joined together like a jigsaw piece. because he never imagined he'd have this moment. to charles, having a baby was a heavenly thought, a dream, that he thought he'd never get in his life because he was so focused on his job with formula one.

however, for charles, formula one no longer felt like his only purpose in life. his new purpose in life was now this little baby girl, little juliette, that was sleeping soundly in his arms as tears rolled down his cheeks. it seemed as though charles' tears would overflow the hospital because it seemed as though ever since arriving at the hospital, he hadn't stopped crying. and of course, with the help of emilia, charles and lilia were able to have photographical and video evidence of just how emotional charles had been the entire time. but, it wasn't something that charles was ashamed of. how could he when all this emotion was all due to this beautiful little girl that rested on his bare chest, his wife who had just given him this heavenly gift of their little girl, meters in front of him.

then, it was time for the rest of the family to meet little leclerc. the grandparents had already met little juliette and when lilia and charles told them, especially pascale, juliette's name, it was obvious just how meaningful her name was to them. however, those weren't the guests that emilia was referring to earlier. the guests that she was referring to was charles' f1 teammates. they had all been buzzing with every emotion under the sun as they waited for the moment them to finally get permission to meet their niece. 

f1 grid meeting baby juliette

charles was still having skin to skin time when emilia had allowed in the first influx of f1 drivers in the room to meet the little baby. with the permission of lilia and charles of course, the first group to meet baby juliette was pierre, carlos and max. their girlfriends francisca, rebecca and kelly had also joined in but were at the hospital bed next to lilia whilst the guys had gone straight over to charles before coming back to congratulate lilia as well. 

"...hey guys, come in!" charles whispered, lilia's face lighting up as she saw who it was that had walked in as he stood up, juliette still asleep in his arms 

max, pierre, carlos and the girls' faces all softened when they made eye contact with the newest arrival to the f1 family. all the emotions suddenly coming up, moreso from the girlfriends then the drivers. 

max being the most comfortable and composed one to speak up, "oh my gosh, charles, lilia, she's gorgeous and so tiny! what's her name?" he questioned, his eyes showing an emotion that was very rare to be seen by anyone as charles smiled at his childhood friend 

"thank you max, thanks guys! her name is juliette marie antoinette harriett leclerc," charles smiled, his voice still shaky from the tears he had finally stopped crying

at hearing the name of the little girl, the room fell into a silence, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. the looks on the faces of each of the drivers and their girlfriends were immediately the same as the faces made by the leclerc's when they had been told the name of little juliette. it was obvious to lilia, from one look at the drivers, pierre specifically, that those middle names, especially antoinette for him, was more meaningful than anything else. 

"that's a gorgeous name you two. and she suits the name as well." max whispers as his head tilts as he looks at the sleeping newborn, his finger lightly brushing her forehead as she smiles at the touch 

the drivers and girlfriends all look at one another after that touch. it seemed as though from that touch and smile response that juliette and uncle max were going to have a special bond. however, whilst that would be true, it wasn't until carlos came over, lightly brushing his lips against her forhead that she woke up. her eyes locking with carlos' and smiling at him. 

that very moment, charles and lilia knew that they had to have carlos as juliette's godfather. which was another thing that because of the whirlwind of emotions, the husband and wife had forgotten to discuss. however, it seemed as though it didn't need a discussion because it seemed like baby juliette knew for herself that uncle carlos was also going to be her godfather. with maybe uncle max as godfather number two or the godfather to her future sibling. 

whilst you'd think there would be a lot of talking between the group of nine, there really wasn't. it was a calm and serene quiet as each of the drivers and their girlfriends got to quickly hold little juliette with charles taking photos of each of them with their little niece. however, the one that they wanted to be printed out was carlos'. they wanted to announce to him, once they had gotten everyone else out of the room, that he was juliette's godfather. 

godfather carlos

saying their final goodbyes, the group of six drivers and girlfriends were now leaving charles, lilia and juliette, thinking that another group of drivers was going to be allowed in to meet little juliette. however, just before carlos could leave with rebecca, lilia and charles stopped him before he was fully out the door. 

"...carlos...wait, can you stay, for a minute? we want to ask you something..." lilia calls out, just before carlos could leave 

nodding to them, he then lets the other five know that he'll catch up with them later. giving a quick hand squeeze and kiss to rebecca, he then walks back into the room and closes the door behind him. 

"...yeah, i can stay, is everything okay? what do you want to ask me?" he questions as he notices charles and lilia, it was as though they were communicating with each other without speaking 

they then look back over at carlos and they ask him to sit down, which he does. now that he was seated, charles and lilia felt more comfortable telling him just in case he fainted or his legs turned into jelly. charles then asked if carlos wanted to once again, hold juliette, he accepted of course and holding her ever so carefully, waited patiently for what lilia and charles were going to ask him. 

"everything's perfectly fine, carlos, we just wanted to ask if you wanted to be juliette's godfather..." lilia asked softly as carlos' eyes widened as his grip on juliette tightened slightly but not too much to cause concern 

"...are you serious?" carlos' voice shook, his emotions now coming out now that it was just the three of them plus juliette - carlos not really one to cry in front of a lot of people 

"we're dead serious, carlos. you saw the way juliette seemed to latch onto you seconds after she did similar to max. we did think of making max maybe godfather number two *giggles* however, i think we'll make him godfather to baby two when we decide to have baby number two. but, right now, we seriously think that you're the right choice for juliette's godfather and we know we can trust you fully with her if anything god forbid was to happen to us before she's old enough..." lilia assured as carlos' eyes became watery and his lips started to quiver 

charles and lilia became a little worried when he didn't respond for a little bit. carlos' head had dipped down to rest on juliette's (which, in all honesty, nearly made charles and lilia cry at how sweet it was and before either forgot, they made sure to capture a quick photo) as his body started shaking. it had now become clear to the husband and wife that the simple question of them wanting carlos as juliette's godfather had hit an emotional chord for the spaniard and it also struck an emotional chord with them. 

sniffling, carlos finally lifted his head up and nodded his head, "...i'd be honoured to be juliette's godfather you two! i promise i won't let anything bad happen to juliette for as long as i am able to," carlos sniffled, his tears hitting his shoulder as his head was resting there in a bid to not get any of his tears on his goddaughter 

and seeing that image was priceless for charles and lilia. they both adored carlos and they really treasured their friendship with the spaniard. i think the reason why carlos was so emotional was because of everything with him leaving ferrari at the end of this season was now starting to hit him. and now that halfway through his final season with his teammate and with ferrari, the kid decides to have a baby himself, it made him even more emotional because he thought he'd never get a proper relationship with little leclerc because of his departure from ferrari. however, no matter where carlos would be in f1, whether that was alpine, mercedes, audi, charles and lilia would always look for him first when it comes to juliette. the baby now born before the end of their last season together. now it made sense why carlos had been so quiet when he had first come in to meet the baby with pierre, max, kika, kelly and rebecca. carlos was holding back all of this pent up emotions that were now coming out when asking him to be godfather. 

"we trust you carlitos. that's why we asked you. and it doesn't matter that you're leaving ferrari at the end of the season. no matter where you end up on the grid, whether it's mercedes, alpine, audi, we will always and we mean always look for you first when it comes to juliette. we love you carlos and you leaving ferrari doesn't change that. we really want you in our lives after this and that means you being a vital part of juliette's life!" lilia was adamant in getting carlos to believe that they really wanted him as their baby's godfather 

and, it finally seemed to be working. nodding his head and wiping away his tears, carlos held juliette ever so securely as he allowed the two parents to take more photos of them together. 

because, after that, it would be the announcement that everyone that was all caught up in the bubble of the birth of baby leclerc was hanging for. the announcement that baby leclerc has been born and introduced into the world. so, that's what they did. 

announcing baby juliette

liked by leclerc_pascale, arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1, kellypiquet, carlossainz55, pierregasly, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, francisca.cgomes and 13k others

charlesleclerc and lilialeclerc introducing juliette marie antoinette leclerc 🩷 (ps. herve will be honoured in baby number 2 😉)

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leclerc_pascale parfaite petite juliette 🩷 perfect little juliette

arthurleclerc juliette is perfect you two 🩷

maxverstappen1 uncle maxie loves you juliette. she's beautiful you guys🩷

kellypiquet the sweetest baby girl ever! you'll be beautiful parents 

carlossainz55 godfather carlos loves you, juliette, forever and ever🩷

pierregasly i've only just finished crying, mon dieu my god

scuderiaferrari isn't she just a precious little thing? can't wait to meet little juliette 

landonorris she's gorgeous, i'm actually going to cry when i meet her! 

francisca.cgomes i still can't get over her name! it's so beautiful 🩷

forzacarlos oh my gosh, juliette's name is all in tribute to those the leclerc's have lost! jules, marie (lilia's mum) and anthoine (excluding herve) i can't i'm actually sobbing! 

fewarrifwends forzacarlos oh my gosh, you're right! that's actually so sweet and now i'm crying too! 

fin

this was a completely different format than i normally do but honestly, i love it more than i thought i would! i know i said in the authors note at the beginning that i'd do this for carlos as well but, now i'm actually really considering it because i loved this charles version so much! and, yes, i came up with baby juliette's name all on my own and i'm actually kind of proud of it! i truly do think that whenever charles and (possibly) alex or whoever he's with when that happens, decide to settle down in that regard of having kids, i do think no matter if it's a boy or girl, he'd pay tribute to jules with a mention of herve being honoured with baby number 2 in some type of way. and this was my version of it with the edition of anthoine hurbert and the fictional mother of lilia because i also feel like people forget that charles was also friends with anthoine, not just pierre so, i just wanted to honour that as well in the best way i could. 

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

[op1umeyes]

imagine ur bd being out of the picture and your little girl running up to si ☹️🤍

   “Daddy!”

   Simon looked down, eyes wide at the little girl wrapped around his right leg. Johnny eyed him carefully. He was thankful none of the other café patrons paid any mind. “I’m not your daddy, love,” Simon said. He tugged his leg away gently but the strength of a child is hard to match.

     “Annalise, get off that man,” a woman cried. In the blink of an eye, she knelt near Simon’s leg and tugged the child away.

     “Dada!” She shrieked. Annalise’s chubby hands reached out for Simon’s. “Is dada, mama!”

     You shook your head. “I- I’m so sorry, sir. Her dad was in the military. Anna thinks everyone in fatigues is dada… Do you want me to get either of you a coffee to pay you back? I’m truly sorry.”

     Soap discreetly elbowed Simon harshly in the side. “‘M quite alrigh’ lass. Simon, here, would take a coffee if your serious. If you’ll excuse me, I got to go. Bye, little lassie,” the Scot rushed, face lightinf up at the way Annalise giggled as his parting.

     Annalise was still cooing and reaching for Simon. You just shifted her on your hip and rubbed her back. “Simon, yeah?”

     “That’s me, ma’am,” Simon nodded, feeling suddenly extremely exposed without the balaclava he had decided not to wear for one single occasion. “You don’t have to pay me back-“

     “Nonsense. I would feel like a bad person if I just let my kid latch herself onto your left and call you dad and then just swoop her up and leave,” you said, reaching for your wallet before walking over to the ordering counter. “What can I get you?”

     Simon ordered a small of his usual, watching you pull the money from your wallet without glancing at how much it costed. He observed you in that split second- a beautiful baby girl on your hip who thought any man in camo was her dad. So he had been in the service… Simon watched you smile kindly at the teen behind the counter who fumbled for your change. You murmured a quiet, “It’s quite alright, take your time.” A well-mannered, well put-together individual who was also very attractive. Simon knew what Johnny was doing when he left and Simon would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought you were a catch.

     “I seriously appreciate the coffee, ma’am, but it was unnecessary,” Simon said as you tucked your change back and waited for the drink. “As long as the kid’s alrigh’, I don’t need anything in return.”

     You smiled. You smiled at Simon and he swore his cold heart jumped in his chest. Clearly your bright smile disarmed Annalise as much as Simon because she let out a bubbly laugh and put her hands on your cheek. “What if I said I wanted to?” You asked coyly.

     Simon watched Annalise play with a baby hair near your face. “Then I’d say it’d be a cruel thing to tell a gorgeous woman no.”

[777sturn]

this over middle part matt.

[fangirlfuel]

I don’t usually ask but this one’s special. Could you do Jules Bianchi x OC where she’s pregnant when he passes, and years later his daughter joins F1? Very emotional but full circle moment? I’m crying already.

Okay no because this actually shattered me. The thought of her being pregnant when Jules passes… and then their daughter growing up, carrying his name, and making it to F1? That’s not just emotional, that’s full circle in the most heartbreaking, beautiful way. I’m crying with you. This one has to be written 😭🤧🫶🏻

---

[christopherisfoive]

Bikini Dilemma

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader (Mutual Pining, Best Friends to Lovers) Status: Unedited

Description:

When your best friend Seungmin offers to help you shop for bikinis, neither of you expects the trip to stir up years of unspoken feelings. From teasing glances in a fitting room to a quiet confession under a beachside sunset, what starts as playful banter turns into something deeper. But crossing the line between friends and something more? That’s the scariest part of all.

a/n: One day ill make a fic longer. Or a two parter. Back to requests and all dat. Anyway , its almost vaca season! ˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧

"You owe me for this," Seungmin muttered, arms crossed as he stood awkwardly near the fitting room entrance of the swimwear store.

"You offered!" you called from behind the curtain, struggling with the straps of a halter top. "I said you didn’t have to come."

"I thought you meant a beach outfit. Like, sunglasses and sandals. Not… this."

You peeked out with a smirk. "You nervous, Min?"

"Not nervous," he scoffed, flicking through his phone. "Just not used to being third-wheeled by twelve hangers and a pile of string."

You laughed, finally stepping out in one of the options. Seungmin looked up—and instantly choked.

It was subtle, just a blink and a small cough, but you caught it. "Well?"

He gave you a slow once-over, then raised a brow. "It's cute."

"That’s it?"

"I mean… sure. Cute. Just—maybe not the black one. Feels too… much."

You tilted your head. "Much how?"

He looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor tiles. "Just… much. Like something a boyfriend would get all territorial over."

You blinked, then burst into laughter. "Wow. So you're saying I look too hot?"

"I'm saying I'm not dealing with strangers staring at you like that. Pick the yellow one. It’s safer."

"Safer?" You stepped closer, still in the bikini. He backed up. "Are you protecting me, Seungmin?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm protecting me. I don’t need a full-blown identity crisis in the middle of a fitting room."

You paused, your smile softening. "You okay?"

He nodded, then met your eyes with a half-smile. "Yeah. Just… trying to remember you're my best friend. That’s all."

The tension lingered for a moment—warm, confusing, and maybe a little dangerous.

"Okay, I’ll try on the yellow one," you said casually, slipping back behind the curtain. "But just so you know… if I cause a crisis, it’s not my fault you have taste."

You heard him groan under his breath. "Why did I come here again?"

"Because you love me!" you called.

"Unfortunately!"

You tried on the yellow one next, tugging at the straps as you adjusted it in the mirror. It was cute. Safer, like Seungmin said. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the look on his face when he saw you in the black one.

“Okay, yellow time,” you announced, stepping out.

Seungmin looked up again, clearly bracing himself—and this time, he didn’t choke. He tilted his head thoughtfully, eyes scanning the fit with way too much focus for someone who supposedly wasn’t flustered.

“That one’s… better,” he said, nodding. “Less—dangerous.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean less likely to give you a breakdown?”

He clicked his tongue. “Less likely to cause a stampede at the beach. Same thing.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, stepping back in to try another. You could hear him tapping his phone again, probably trying to distract himself, but there was this charged silence between you both. Not awkward—just… there.

“I still think you should get the black one,” he muttered suddenly, so quiet you almost missed it.

You froze halfway through changing. “What?”

“I said the black one looked good,” he repeated, a little louder this time. “Like… really good.”

You paused, your heart thudding harder than it should. “So what was with the whole ‘too much’ act then?”

“It was too much—for me.” His voice had an edge of honesty now, lower, careful. “I didn’t like the way it made me feel.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you stalled by grabbing the next bikini—light blue, simple, sweet.

You stepped out again, pretending like your pulse wasn’t racing. “Okay. Last one.”

Seungmin looked up.

This time, he didn’t say anything at first. He just blinked, slowly dragging his gaze from your shoulder down to your waist, then back up again.

He cleared his throat. “That one’s my favorite.”

“Really?” you asked, tugging at the strap and pretending not to notice how intently he was looking at you.

“Yeah. It’s… you. I don’t know. Just feels right.”

You looked at him—really looked at him. The way his fingers tightened around his phone, how he kept his expression neutral even though his ears were turning pink.

It hit you in a quiet wave: this wasn’t just your best friend helping you shop. Something else was starting to flicker between you. Something neither of you had named yet.

“I think I’ll get this one,” you said, voice softer than before.

“Good choice.” He looked away. “You’ll look great in it. On the trip.”

You smiled to yourself as you went back into the fitting room.

Neither of you brought up what just happened.

But it lingered.

And neither of you stopped thinking about it.

The beach trip had been planned for weeks. Just you, Seungmin, and a few friends. But somehow—somehow—it ended up being just the two of you that morning. Everyone else bailed last minute. Traffic. Cramps. Family stuff.

You were already halfway to the coast when the group chat started blowing up with excuses, so Seungmin just shrugged and said, “Guess it’s just us then.”

Your stomach had done a weird flip. “Yeah. Just us.”

Now, you were on the sand, sprawled under a sun umbrella, sunglasses on, trying very hard not to look at him too long.

The light blue bikini fit like a dream, and you’d caught him staring more than once—even though he was trying to be so casual about it.

You sipped your drink slowly, watching him stretch out beside you, skin sun-kissed, hair slightly wind-blown, eyes hidden behind his own dark shades.

“So,” you said, nudging him lightly with your foot. “Still think the black one would’ve been too much?”

He smirked. “Absolutely.”

“You’re full of it.”

He turned his head slightly toward you, voice low. “You really wanna know what I think?”

Your heart stuttered. “Obviously.”

He took a second, like he was deciding whether to go for it. Then: “You look good in anything. That’s kind of the problem.”

The smirk was gone. He was serious.

You blinked, unsure whether to laugh, deflect, or melt into the sand.

Instead, you said softly, “Then what are you gonna do about it?”

Seungmin looked at you like you’d just flipped the sun upside down.

Then he sat up, brushing sand from his hands. “Nothing.”

You blinked again. “What?”

He looked out at the waves. “Because we’re friends. Right?”

The word friends landed with a thud between you. Neither of you said anything for a moment.

Then, he stood and offered a hand. “Come on. Let’s get in the water. Before I say something I shouldn’t.”

Your fingers closed around his, and he pulled you up easily.

You didn’t let go right away.

Neither did he.

And even when you finally broke apart to run into the water, something had already shifted.

The kind of shift you couldn’t un-feel.

The ocean was freezing at first—biting against your skin and rushing up your spine with a shock that made you shriek. Seungmin only laughed, diving in with reckless ease, splashing water at you like he didn’t just drop a loaded sentence moments ago.

You splashed back, trying to pretend your heart wasn’t still beating too hard.

For a while, things returned to normal. Just laughter, teasing, Seungmin dunking you under once (which earned him a full shove and a smug grin when you emerged), the kind of playfulness that had always defined your friendship. But you kept catching him looking. Not staring—looking. Like he was trying to memorize something.

Eventually, the sun began to drop behind the horizon, bleeding pink and amber into the water. Your limbs ached in a good way as you both waded back to shore, feet sinking into the cold, wet sand. You wrapped a towel around your shoulders and flopped back onto your shared blanket.

Seungmin sat beside you, brushing his wet hair back, quiet now.

You glanced at him. “You good?”

He nodded. “Just… tired.”

But you could feel it. That same shift from earlier. Something lingering, unspoken.

You turned your face toward the ocean again, watching as the waves turned dark and slow under the dimming sky.

"Min," you said, voice barely above the breeze, "did you mean what you said earlier?"

He was silent for a second. Then: “Which part?”

“That I look good in anything. That it’s a problem.”

He exhaled, a short breath through his nose. “Yeah. I meant it.”

You swallowed. “So why do nothing?”

“Because if I do something, I can’t undo it.”

You turned your head sharply, finding him already looking at you. His eyes weren’t teasing anymore. They were raw. Tired. Like he’d been holding something back for way too long.

“I can’t lose you,” he said simply. “Not even for the chance to have more.”

Your lips parted, but before you could answer—he shot to his feet.

You followed his gaze and saw it: your phone, half-buried in the sand, way too close to the water.

You moved fast.

Too fast.

Your foot slipped on a slick patch of wet sand, and your ankle gave out with a sharp twist. You hit the ground hard, the jolt rushing through your whole body.

“Y/N!”

Seungmin was at your side in seconds, dropping to his knees beside you, his hands immediately reaching for your arms, your waist, your leg. “Hey—hey, are you okay? Talk to me.”

You winced. “My ankle. I think I twisted it.”

He hovered, visibly panicking. “Okay. Okay. It’s fine. I got you.”

“I’m fine, Min—”

“Don’t say that when you’re literally on the ground.”

You let him help you sit up, your hands clutching his shoulders as he steadied you. His jaw was tight, his brows furrowed like it physically hurt him to see you like this.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered.

His head snapped toward you. “Don’t apologize. God, you scared me.”

His voice cracked a little at the end.

You blinked.

And suddenly, you were both staring at each other too long, too close, too everything.

“You really think I wouldn’t risk it?” he said quietly. “You think I haven’t wanted to tell you how I feel for months?”

Your breath caught.

“Then why haven’t you?”

He reached up slowly, brushing a piece of wet hair from your face.

“Because I didn’t want to fall in love with my best friend unless she wanted me back.”

Silence.

A beat.

Your heart flipped, twisted—maybe worse than your ankle.

“I do,” you said, voice barely steady. “I do want you back.”

The sun dipped lower behind you, the sky now painted in faded gold. His hand was still on your cheek. And for the first time, neither of you pulled away.

“You can’t walk on that,” Seungmin said, eyes still locked on yours, hand still gently cradling your cheek.

You swallowed thickly. “I can hop.”

He gave you the most unimpressed look. “You think I’m gonna let you hop all the way to the car like a half-drowned bunny?”

“Rude.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” he muttered, brushing sand off his knees as he stood. Then, he turned around and crouched with his back to you. “Come on.”

Your eyes widened. “Seungmin—”

“Piggyback. Now.”

You hesitated, then slowly looped your arms around his shoulders, letting him lift you with ease. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, skin warm even in the breeze, and your heart pounded against his back as he carried you across the beach like it was nothing.

“Don’t drop me,” you whispered near his ear.

He glanced sideways. “I would never.”

The words lingered in the air. Heavy. Meaningful.

The drive to the hotel was quiet, the radio playing soft, mellow songs as your ankle throbbed faintly in your lap. Seungmin kept glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

You were always looking.

Once in the room, he helped you to the bed and dropped his bag beside yours. The hotel was nice—minimal, modern, with a huge window letting in the last streaks of golden hour. You leaned back against the pillows, watching him move around the space, pulling out a water bottle, finding the mini ice packs tucked in the first aid drawer under the bathroom sink.

“You’ve done this before,” you said.

He sat down beside you, gently placing the ice against your ankle. “I used to twist mine all the time during dance practice.”

His fingers were careful, holding you steady. You stared at his hands—how familiar they were. How new they suddenly felt.

“You didn’t freak out this much when you got hurt,” you teased.

He didn’t smile.

“That’s different,” he said, without looking up. “You’re not me.”

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” you whispered. “Since the fitting room. Since the beach.”

He finally looked at you. “Because everything’s different now.”

You both froze.

“Is that… a bad thing?” you asked quietly.

“No,” he said immediately. “It’s not bad. It’s just—” He ran a hand through his hair, then dropped his gaze. “It’s scary. You’re the person I think about all the time. The one I want to tell good news to first. The one who makes me laugh when I’m trying to stay mad. You’ve always been that person.”

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled.

He set the ice aside and shifted closer. “And now I get to call that something more?”

You nodded slowly. “If you want to.”

Seungmin’s hand found yours between the sheets. “I do.”

The moment hung in the air—sweet, electric, steady.

He leaned in slowly, not rushing, not assuming. Just waiting.

And when your lips met his, it wasn’t fireworks or chaos—it was everything you already knew about him wrapped in something warmer, something new. Like a door you’d both been afraid to open had finally creaked wide enough to step through.

He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours.

“So… we’re really doing this,” he murmured.

You smiled. “Yeah. We are.”

Outside the window, the sky faded from gold to deep blue. And inside that room—he stayed close, holding your hand, as something between you quietly, beautifully changed.

The light in the room was soft and blue-gray, filtered through gauzy curtains swaying gently in the sea breeze. You stirred first, blinking against the morning haze, your ankle still a little sore but no longer throbbing.

And Seungmin… was already awake.

He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, eyes tracing your face like he’d been doing it for a while.

“Morning,” he said quietly.

You squinted. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“No.”

You raised a brow.

“…Okay, yes. But only a little.”

You grinned, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Creep.”

“Can’t help it,” he said, voice dropping slightly as he reached over and brushed your hair off your forehead. “You’re mine now.”

You swallowed hard, heart fluttering in your chest like a bird caught mid-flight.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I am.”

The silence between you was different now. Not awkward. Just… charged. Safe. But new enough to feel a little like walking barefoot across glass.

He suddenly sat up. “Okay, but how are we doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“The whole… telling people thing. Like, do we say anything? Or just show up to the next group hangout suspiciously closer than usual and let someone figure it out?”

You laughed. “That sounds like your dream scenario.”

“It is,” he said proudly. “Let them suffer.”

You leaned over and lightly shoved his shoulder. “We should take it slow. Just feel it out.”

“Cool. Great. I’m totally chill about it,” he replied, clearly lying. “I just might panic internally if someone flirts with you.”

You snorted. “We’re going to the group brunch today, aren’t we?”

He groaned. “Can we cancel and stay in bed and watch bad dramas all day instead?”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek, slow and deliberate. “Later. Let’s go make everyone suffer first.”

You hobbled in on one foot, leaning against Seungmin’s side. Your ankle was still wrapped, but that wasn’t what caught everyone’s attention.

It was the way his arm stayed around your waist even after you sat down. The way he pulled your chair closer to his. The way his eyes flicked toward you every few seconds—soft, instinctive, protective.

Felix raised a brow. “You two… good?”

“Great,” Seungmin replied a little too quickly.

“Mmhm,” Chan hummed from across the table. “Interesting vibe today.”

You avoided eye contact with all of them, choosing instead to sip your coffee.

Minho leaned in from your other side. “Did something happen at the beach?”

You shrugged. “We just talked.”

Seungmin reached over and stole a bite of your toast.

Minho narrowed his eyes. “You just talked?”

“Lots of talking,” Seungmin replied casually. “Big fan of communication.”

Hyunjin squinted at the two of you, then gasped dramatically. “Wait—are you guys dating?!”

Everyone turned.

You and Seungmin both blinked.

Then you looked at each other.

A beat passed.

And then he smiled—soft, sure, a little smug.

“Not yet,” he said, reaching for your hand under the table, “but we’re working on it.”

Your stomach flipped in the best way.

And just like that, the table exploded with noise—shouting, teasing, cursing, Felix falling out of his chair.

But through it all, Seungmin’s hand stayed in yours.

Warm. Steady.

Yours.

[lilirari]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⊹ ( ⚽ ) . . . FAKE TEXTS ⁷ !

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ꩜⋆ worm on a string. also, friendly reminder ! these are all fake texts so please don't take them seriously ^^ that first text is me btw i'm going to start my own bottled water company soon.

© LILIRARI, 2024 ★

[teastyun]

Hiii! How r uu?? I just read edges hatred and omg that was so good. I have a little idea for u 🤭🤭🤭

Okay okay so how about Abby and reader were best friends, they knew each other since salt lake (they were both fireflies) but since joining the WLF, Abby grew distant from reader and reader didn’t understand why. They ended up becoming enemies until one night reader found Abby breaking down (in tears, not dancing 😭😭) because she just broke up with Ow*n for the 3rd time so reader decides to cheer her up if u get where I’m coming from 🙏🙏🙏

༉‧₊˚ denial is a river in Egypt

sfw!

one night, you hear a big fight happening between Abby and Owen in her dorm on your way to the bathroom. will you be able to cheer her up, despite you two being sworn enemies for the last few years?

╰┈➤ masterlist

a/n: I'm fine, how are you?? thank you so much for trusting me with your idea!! I had so much fun writing it ♥

stationed in Salt Lake City, you and Abby grew up to be the best friends anyone would be jealous of. you two were the typical duo that would only be found together no matter place or time; eating meals, training or studying. anything you do, Abby would always tag along.

growing older, you and your crew joined the WLF in Seattle after a fatal attack by a madman on your people, including Abby's father dying from a shooting attack at the place he was stationed at. Abby's world was shifted by an instance and she needed any support and help she could get badly.

as her best friend, you were always there for Abby. sleepovers were already quite common for you, but after experiencing such traumatic experience, you two would always stay together at night and help each other through the rough times.

you still remember the way she would wake up drenched in sweat next to you, her breathing unsteady as you try to get her to calm down from an anxiety attack, which were sadly common for her to wake up to due to her repeating horrible nightmares of finding her father dead at a medical office. she clawed to you crying herself to sleep, as she slowly calmed down in your embrace.

Abby often has dealt with those nightmares, so she occasionally tried tried to sleep in her own half of her you two's shared bunkbed. failing miserably, those repeated stressful nights lead her to climb into your part of your bunk bed. most of the times you wouldn't notice her joining you as you were fast asleep, but you'd wake up tangled with each other, and you weren't timid of her touch. even the opposite, you loved to embrace the platonic intimacy by hugging and cuddling her in response.

like a cure, you always made her nightmares and terrors go away in an instance. she saw you as her guardian angel, but she could never tell you as she thought it was awkward admitting it to you in person.

few weeks before moving to Seattle, Abby slowly started to grow distant from you. the reason for that, as she reveals to you when you were on your weekly training sessions, is Owen, who she, at that time, recently grew romantic interest for. you weren't quite sure why, but you were deeply hurt. to not worry Abby, you assured her that you're happy for her as long as she is.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

few years later, your hurt feelings developed into irritation, frustration and also slowly into hatred.

although, the love and physical attraction you've already developed in Salt Lake for her never left. she became such a strong, masculine and slightly feminine woman, who is (against your will) absolutely your type. no matter what she's doing, your senses are always hyper fixated on her. god, you know those veins in her arms by heart. your physical attraction towards her growing over these last few years didn't help you at all, leading you to countless nights as you help yourself with a vibrator you found in an abandoned sex shop several months ago, hoping it was her tongue making you come.

luckily, your crew always stayed the same except for Manny, who joined you after moving from Mexico to Seattle. the only difference is that Abby and Owen are in a committed relationship for the last two years, which may or may not agitates you to a certain extend, but you are way too embarrassed to admit it. no one knows how badly you want to show her that you could be a better boyfriend than him, showing her all the things he could never do for her.

although those are only your fantasies, you're actually quite onto something. no one knows that Abby and Owen broke up several times already, simply because of disagreement or incompatibility. Abby would never tell anyone about it, since she and Owen would always come back together after a few days of separation.

the real reason she wouldn't tell anyone was that she was scared of you finding out, since she wants to appear as flawless as possible in front of you. since you two started having quite bad feelings for each other despite the strong friendship you had before, her aim is to prove that she can do well without you, and she is persistent.

she admits that it is definitely a toxic way of thinking, but she is in deep denial with herself; anytime she sees you, she feels butterflies dancing tango in her stomach. when you're around, her senses are hyperaware of anything you're doing. she always listens to what you're saying, even if she's not part of the conversation.

you grew from her cure to her curse, and you are the only one able to lift it.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

her roommate Manny and you are really close friends, so you'd see Abby at least once a week in her dorm when you and Manny play video games on their tv, but she would always find an excuse to leave the dorm.

for Abby, she feels like she can't breathe when you're around. it's much worse to her than actual spores; it feels as if you'd draw her in, but at the same time a way barricades the space between you two, keeping you separate from each other. after so many years of actively trying to avoid you, she feels like she's suffocating, especially when you're looking so pretty in your everyday clothing.

the smart guy Manny is, he notices Abby's sudden changes around you, but he would only silently observe. seeing how tense Abby can get, he doesn't want to put any more pressure on her. he thinks you two will be able to figure it out sooner or later.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

one night, you were on your way to clean yourself up after a hard day of work. you walk past Abby and Manny's dorm and you notice angry sounding voices, making you stop in your tracks to listen.

"you think I wouldn't notice? Abby, what the actual fuck!" you hear Owen say, as his voice rises with each word by the end of his sentence and you wince at his harsh tone.

you have no idea what their fight is about, but you had no time to think any further, since Owen bursts out of the room and slams the door shut behind him and runs off the hallway.

unsure whether you should intervene or not, you end up knocking on the door.

"Owen, there's no point in-" you hear Abby say in a broken tone as she opens the door several moments after. she stops when she realises it's you who's knocked on her door with worry written all over your face. although she sniffles, she tries to hide her emotionally wrecked state and tries to pretend nothing happened by taking a second to maintain herself.

"Manny isn't here yet," she starts, but she stops to take a deep breath to keep her facade up. "I know, that's not why I'm here," you speak quietly, trying to not stir anything in her. "may I come in?"

Abby hesitates and takes a deep breath, but opens the door eventually for you to step inside the room. she walks further into the room.

you can tell how exhausted she is not only physically, but mentally as well. she has her usual khaki cargos combined with a light tank on, showing her beautiful curves and strong build underneath. the black bra's straps beneath it peak around her shoulders, and god, she looked so fine despite the broken state she's in. her hair was in a French braid, but several streaks were loosely framing her face, telling you that she had a hard day of work as well.

she silently leans on the railing that separates Manny's part of the room from hers, as she looks through the window on the nightlife decorating the stadium. her gaze was focused on the sight, obviously avoiding any eye contact with you.

trying not to pressure her, you mirror her movements and carefully ask "what are you feeling?" hoping to not agitate her by your question.

you see a shift in her movement after a few moments, as she answers in a whisper "I don't know." she sounds confused, but your question seems to calm her down. you try to think of a logic answer, but she continues "well, no, I feel angry and frustrated,"

surprised by her honest answer, you turn around to face her. she still looks ahead at the stadium, clearly in thoughts. her eyes are reddened and her light eyelashes dark due the tears, which streaks you make out on her cheeks. the sorrow sight of her makes your heart ache, but you still remember the situation you both are in nonetheless, so you silently wait for her to continue.

"you know what he did?" she starts, finally looking at you. in response, you slightly shake your head.

she blinks several times before turning away from you again, "he cheated on me. several times, probably even more than I know of. with Mel," she tells you and takes a small break in between her shortened sentences.

shocked by what you just heard, you aren't sure how to react appropriately.

"I- we broke up, but not for the first time," she continues, not daring to look you into your eyes again.

"why... would you ever go back to him after what he did to you?" you ask clearly confused.

she sighs and drops her head. "there's no fucking way you'd ever understand," she tells you as her tone rises, and removes herself from holding onto the railing. at first, you thought she's about to leave the room, but instead she paces around the room, clearly trying to think of how to deal with the situation

her sudden change of attitude provokes something inside of you, so you say "why wouldn't I understand, Abby?" as you watch her still pace the room. she stops mid-tracks as she hears your tone.

"what does that have to do with me?" you sound equally frustrated as your tone rises, not caring anymore whether your reaction catalyses something in her.

Abby unsteady breath reveals her frustration even further. she seems to think of something, before she walks straight towards you. seeing her so angry creates goosebumps on your skin, but you try not to show your nervousness by gaining a steady hold onto the railing behind you.

stopping right in front of you, she looks down into your eyes. "you- you have no fucking idea what those years did to me," she tells you, caging you in by holding into the railing behind you. her eyes would glance between your eyes and lips, hoping for you not to see it.

"I- fuck," she curses in denial.

"Abby," your chest rises with each deep breath you take to calm yourself.

she blinks several times and breaks the eye contact again. her emotional state makes her bite on her own lip. her eyes are glassy, revealing how frustrated she is with the situation.

carefully, your hands rose to grab her chin softly to motion her back to you, "tell me, Abby, please" you beg in a whisper, your hands now resting on her warm cheeks. it feels so natural and strange at the same time to touch her so intimately. she looks at you so hurt and grieving, but lovingly at the same time, like you were always hers.

Abby feels your breath on her lips, just now realising how close you two are. her heart is racing, her mind spiralling, her eyes focusing on only your eyes. so many times she thought of kissing you, even after your two's friendship went downhill. she feels like she's slowly loosing control over herself.

now, your smell captivates her mind and she feels herself becoming dizzy in your presence.

she wants to touch you so badly. hug you, kiss you, make you feel good, all at the same time. she looks into your eyes, trying to read whatever is written in them. they are glassy from your emotions and she couldn't help but get lost in their mesmerising colour.

"I..." she starts, "I can't tell you,"

her answer frustrates you, leading you to sigh and shake your head frustrated, as your eyes get even more teary than before.

"here I am, thinking I finally get to talk to you. fuck, Abby, I really thought we could finally solve this," you say with a breaking voice, tears running down your face. you are about to push her away from you, but her hands go up to hold your wrists to stop you.

"isn't it obvious?" her voice sounds shaky, but she continues, "it's been you the whole fucking time. I always went back to him so I could forget you. to forget the desire of you, your touch, everything of you. fuck-" she stops her rambling, trying to focus back on what she actually wanted to say, "you have no idea how often I think of you. I'm in fucking denial of loving you and I don't even really know why,"

surprised by her confession, you stare at her. your wrists are still in her hold. like in a trance, Abby starts rambling again, "I- god, I can't even form coherent thoughts-"

"Abby, can you shut up for one second?" you interrupt her with a growing smile on your lips, slightly amused by her chaotic rambling.

she looks at you with her big grey eyes and slightly parted lips, just now realising your wrists in her hold. she releases them and your hands immediately go back to rest on her cheeks.

"-can I kiss you?" you ask in a whisper, and Abby doesn't think twice of an answer. she finally connects her lips with yours in a desperate and longing kiss, as if your touch was the only think she ever craved for her whole life. your hands wander from her cheeks to her neck, as wrap your arms around her tightly.

moaning into the heated kiss, she wraps her arms tightly around your waist, wanting to feel every single inch of you against herself. you bite her lips, when you feel her knee pressing between your legs, which create friction against the zip line in your trousers.

"fuck-" you mumble into the kiss, "I missed you so much" you continue as you grab her hair, longing for even more.

Abby grins in response, and squeezes your ass. "me too, baby," she kisses your neck, "me too," she draws you into a tight hug, while she leaves several pecks on your neck.

her love and affection after so many restless years make you smile so big, but a sudden thought interrupted your two's moment. you softly pushed her away to look at her face, as you say "did you just tell me you love me?" with a challenging tone, but still smiling big.

"do I really have to say it again?" she murmurs embarrassed. you softly cup her face in your hands, "I love you too, Abs."

at that, she takes you in for another kiss, but the door suddenly opened.

the door frame revealed Manny, who is still oblivious to what's going on, "Abs, I brought you dinner from the canteen-" he starts, but immediately turns around as he sees you two's position, "doesn't matter, see you later!" he interrupts himself and turns around to close the door behind him as he leaves.

you and Abby got back as a strong and healthy couple, catching up on all the things you couldn't do the last few years ♥