#we just spend days sitting together and not even talking just being there
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bontentrio · 3 days ago
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ATEEZ and ALMOST BREAKING UP
ot8 x gn reader
summary: you’re in a relationship and one of you (or both) want to break up.
tw: angst (insecurities, arguments, reader flinches sometimes but it’s not violence) but with happy endings because i am weak + fluff + slight nsfw in mingi’s + alcohol in jongho’s.
a/n: i got carried away with yeosang’s and jongho’s my apologies 🙏 rqs are open btw! (also i promise i’m working on ateez stuck in the friendzone part 2 but i have this scheduled for today)
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HONGJOONG
you stared at hongjoong in bewilderment. he was sitting down in front of you, with tears in his eyes that threatened to spill if he blinked. he looked so… fragile. as if one single word or touch from you could break him. yet you sat there, with confusion painted all over your face.
“i’m sorry, what?” you asked.
“i think we need to break up” he whispered, as a tear rolled down his cheek and looked away. so you didn’t hear wrong.
“i don’t agree” you said, taking his hand in yours. “what brought you this thought?” you asked, making him look down. you waited a few moments, not wanting to pressure him into talking. then, hongjoong lifted your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it.
“i’m always busy, we haven’t seen each other in a while and i take too long to reply to your texts” he explained. “you deserve someone who is always there for you”
“but don’t i get a say in this? i knew what i was getting into when we started seeing each other” you started saying as you scooted closer to him, in order to lift up his face to look at you. once your eyes interlocked, you cradled his face and continued: “yeah it sucks not being able to see you as much as i wished to, but also it’s not like i’m unhappy. i cherish the small moments we spend together, it makes me eager for the next one”
“but-“ he started saying, but you interrupted him with a kiss. at first, hongjoong sat still, surprised by your sudden actions, but then he kissed you right back. “no buts joong, we are not breaking up. i love you and i still want this. i still want you” you whispered against his lips, reassuringly.
he nodded in response, believing you.
SEONGHWA
“can we talk for a moment?” you asked seonghwa, who immediately felt his blood run cold at the question. he dropped his phone and studied your face: you looked sad, tired even.
realization struck him as quick as alighting: you’ve been avoiding his kisses for at least two days now, and he’s been brushing it off thinking you were just in a weird mood. i mean, yes it bothered him, but he also loved you too much to not give you space if you needed it. he always wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. but maybe he was wrong about that?
“is something wrong, my love?” he asked with a shaky voice as he took your hand in his. he chose to ignore the way you slightly flinched at his touch, or else his heart would break even more.
“i think-“ you started saying, looking down at your intertwined hands. his hold was gentle, as he always has been. kind, gentle, beautiful, all things you were not. “i think we should take a break”.
you looked up to him, and immediately regretted it: tears formed in his eyes, threatening to spill, while his lips were parted, probably trying to think of what to say. the scene completely broke you, and further proved your point about your insecurities.
“did i do something wrong?” he whispered, not trusting his voice to speak louder without breaking. your eyebrows furrowed, how could he think that when he’s been nothing but perfect in every way? “if i did i’m sorry y/n, i’ll change, but please don’t leave me”
you hugged him tightly, hiding his face on your neck as he sobbed. you didn’t realize you started crying too. “i’m sorry baby, you didn’t do anything wrong” you started saying after a while, pulling him back and cradling his face “it’s me, it’s all me and it has always been me. i’m the problem and i’m always holding you back, i’m sorry hwa”
“holding me back? what do you mean? baby you’re my motivation” seonghwa said, wiping away your tear with his thumbs. “but-“ you started saying, only to be interrupted by him:
“no, don’t ever say that again. you’re my star, y/n”.
YUNHO
normally, you would find yunho’s angry face hot, but now that it’s directed at you? not so much. not when he’s staring at you like you’re a waste of time and space, which only made your anger bubble up more.
“don’t just sit and stare at me! can you please give me a response? it’s not hard yunho” you exclaimed, earning a big eye roll from him “it’s a simple yes or no question: were you flirting with them?”
“god y/n you can be so annoying! no i wasn’t flirting, but now i wish i was so i could have a valid excuse to not see you again!” yunho yelled, standing up abruptly from his seat, making you take a step back unconsciously. this action didn’t go unnoticed by him, quickly realizing that surprise took over your face for a moment, before turning back to anger.
“if you don’t want to see me again then let’s just break up. i’m setting you free yunho” you said in anger, contrasting the way your eyes started watering.
you turned around in order to leave, not wanting him to see you cry, but he grabbed your hand, stopping you. when you turned around, you saw that his hard expression had softened, anger slowly dissipating.
“wait, don’t leave” he started saying “i’m sorry, i wasn’t thinking straight when i said what i said. i love you, i didn’t flirt with them and i don’t want you to leave”
yunho’s eyes silently begged you to forgive him, as he brought you closer to him slowly, testing the waters. when he realized you weren’t going to move away, he wrapped his arms around you. “i’m truly sorry baby, please don’t leave. i love you”.
you cried softly on his chest, as he thought of ways to make you forgive him completely. he refused to let you go.
YEOSANG
“i think this should end, y/n” he said suddenly, making you turn around in your spot at the kitchen. you looked at him confused, tea cups still on your hand.
“you mean the habit of us having tea together before bed?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. yeosang stood up from the coach, and approached you slowly as you took notice of his sad face. “you know what i mean” he whispered once he reached you.
you shook your head “no, actually i don’t. is this about the argument earlier? i forgave you already, it’s all good yeo i promise” you replied quickly, setting the tea cups aside and proceeding to hold his arms. yeosang stared at you, it seems like he was about to cry as well, becoming all too real.
it’s rare for you to argue honestly, often choosing to just talk things out calmly. but earlier that day, ‘talking’ seemed impossible, as constant yelling filled the room. yeosang had promised, once again, to take you out on a date to celebrate your anniversary (two weeks and a half ago), but due to his idol duties he cancelled again. you have had enough, so things escalated rather quickly, making him leave your shared home with a loud shut of the door.
thing is, hours later yeosang showed up with a small bouquet of flowers and asked for forgiveness. he also explained to you how overwhelmed he felt at the moment with all the upcoming comeback preparations. you understood him obviously, and decided it would be better to just move the date until after promotions.
so everything was fine, all forgiven. what brought this now? “baby we barely see each other, except late at night like right now” he started saying, biting his lip so he could stop the tears from spilling out “you deserve someone better”.
“yeosang you are the ‘better’ you’re refereing to! i don’t want anyone else” you answered, hugging him. “i just want you, all of you, even with your weird and long schedules. i still want to feel your kiss on my cheek every time you leave and i still want to have tea with you late at night”
yeosang kissed you, pouring his whole soul and love in it as he held you impossibly closer than before. after a while, he reluctantly broke it, face still close to yours.
“i’m sorry, i love you” he whispered.
SAN
“no” he said, shaking his head as he looked at you with an unreadable expression “no, we’re not breaking up”
“but-“ you started to argue, kind of getting annoyed at the way he dismissed your previous statement. it’s been a week since fans started suspecting of your relationship, after a sasaeng had caught you at a restaurant celebrating your first anniversary. the media was going wild, even going as far as searching up your socials and sending malicious messages, all telling you to break up with san and that you’re harming his idol image.
“i said no, baby” he said, kissing your cheek and taking your hand, leading you to the bedroom “let’s go to bed”
“san! i’m about to ruin your career, i can’t just brush it off like it’s nothing! we need to break up, or at least take a break until everything calms down” you exclaimed, taking your hand back. san stared at you, face still unreadable but with some traces of hurt evident in his eyes. he took your hands again.
“you’re not going to ruin my career, love” he started saying, holding your hands tighter as if he was scared of letting go “kq’s management is handling it, they assured me everything will be fine because the angle of the photo didn’t show my face, and the couple behind us hid my body as well, so it’s not noticeable that it’s me”
you thought for a moment. truth is, you love san way too much to bring him harm, as small as possible it may be. he knew this, but his reasoning made sense. for all the media knows, the guy in the picture could be a lookalike.
“please” he said, barely above a whisper. you nodded, kissing his lips reassuringly. it’s going to be okay.
MINGI
the room felt heated, despite the different pieces of clothing that have been mindlessly discarded all over the place. mingi’s mouth never left yours, tongue entering your mouth as if it was it’s second home. his hands were everywhere: massaging your chest, holding your waist, playing with your ass, caressing your thighs. you felt him everywhere, all at once.
“we should really break things off” he said, in between kisses. you nodded, letting out a small moan when his lips found your neck. “definitely” you managed to say.
you and mingi have been arguing a lot recently, sometimes over silly small things like laundry or house chores, and other times the argument would revolve around hin forgetting important dates or your stubbornness to remember that he is an idol and is, of course, busy.
mingi’s hands went back to your ass, slapping it lightly and making you jump. he proceeded to hold your thighs, pulling you up to his height as he pressed you against the wall. he kissed you again, desperately and deeply.
“min-“ you started saying, or attempted to say since his lips made it near impossible. he bit your lip in response. “mingi”
he hummed against your lips. “this is not what breaking up means” you managed to say, pulling the back of his hair lightly but enough to make hin groan. “i know, but what if it is for us? i know you’ll miss this, miss me. now hold tight” he answered, unbucking his belt as you held on him tightly to not fall while he maneuvered with his pants.
once he was done, and pressed you harder against the wall, your trail of thought immediately disappeared. if it was a good or bad decision, or something that would become cyclical, that would be a problem for the future.
WOOYOUNG
“we should break up” you said, as a matter of fact. you stood in front of him, arms crossed as a serious expression adorned your face. wooyoung, in contrast, was sitting on your shared bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media. he didn’t even bother to look up.
“and why do you think that, baby?” he asked, still not looking at you, which caused your eye to twitch slightly. “exactly because of things like this wooyoung! i’m trying to break up with you and you don’t even care!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air dramatically.
wooyoung blocked his phone and set it aside, sitting up straight in the process. his eyes found yours, probably trying to decipher how you were feeling. “are there any other reasons?”
“you don’t have time for me-“ you replied. “i still see you every night unless i’m on tour, and even in that circumstance i call every day” he interrupted. “okay, but you also never help me around the house” you argued. “baby, i literally cook half of your meals”.
“but-“ you started saying, only to be interrupted once again by wooyoung: “see? no reasons, no break up” he said, patting your head and returning to his phone.
“you’re impossible” you said, sitting beside him with your arms still crossed against your chest. wooyoung kissed your cheek “i know, but you love me nonetheless. plus i know this was an attempt to prank me as revenge for last time”
your eyes widened in surprise.
“HOW?!”
JONGHO
you might have taken a few too many drinks at tonight’s night out with your friends, so they had to call your boyfriend jongho to come and pick you up. thankfully, he answered quickly and said he would be there in 10.
“noooo you called jongho?” you asked, tipsily as you grabbed your friend’s hand that was holding your phone. “he has to wake up early tomorrow! he shouldn’t be driving around, he has to rest!”
“someone has to get you home, babe! plus he seemed fine, i promise” your friend answered in between giggles watching you pout.
once you spot jongho, your whole face lit up involuntarily, as if it was a reflex. once he reached your table, he hugged you from behind, pecking your cheek. “thanks for calling me and taking care of her” he told your friends. you clumsily bid your goodbyes to your friends and turned to jongho, ready to go.
“you shouldn’t have come, jongs” you started saying as he buckled up your belt in the passenger seat. “you have a long day tomorrow”
“it’s no problem baby, i couldn’t sleep anyways” he said, jogging back to the driver’s seat. you looked at him, thoughtful expression on your face for a few moments. “what?” he asked, chuckling as he drove the car out of the parking lot.
“you weren’t able to sleep because i was out? or because you weren’t feeling tired?” you asked, curiously. for someone who was terribly drunk, you sure got philosophical. add that to the long list of things jongho finds endearing about you.
“little bit of both i guess” he answered, stopping at a red light. you stayed quiet, strangely so, which caused jongho to turn his face to you to check if you fell asleep. but you weren’t. instead, you looked at him with tears in your eyes. “baby? what’s wrong?” he said, slightly panicking, not caring that the light turned green. since it was late at night, his car was the only one there at the moment.
“i’m a burden to you” you concluded, tears rolling down your cheeks “i’m holding you back and you should leave me”. huh?!?!
“baby, what are you talking about?” he asked in confusion, before frantically holding your face and wiping your tears away with kisses. “you always appear to save the day jongs, and i do nothing in return” you whispered, looking deeply into his eyes.
“you do more than you realize, y/n” he said, kissing you once more. “but you’re drunk, and i know nothing i’ll say will stick in this state. so let’s talk about it tomorrow, yes?”
“promise?” you asked, in a tiny voice. “i promise” he reassured.
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days ago
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I have a (The rookie) Tim Bradford x shyreader request please?
Tim and shyreader just recently start dating and one time when Tim, shyreader and his cop friends are at a restaurant “Denny’s” (I always order pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausages with Coca Cola) and Tim cop friends are meeting shy!reader.
Tim is surprised when Lucy and shy!reader have secret new best friends handshake and everyone finds it cute while Tim is being sad and surprised puppy asking himself when did this happen. https://youtube.com/shorts/WUON5Q4HDuc?si=4cot1jSQiyi5F-zI
Such a cute request; thank you! 0.7k+ words of fluff (I couldn't figure out how to make it longer without it being super boring. I hope this is okay!)
Secret Relationships, Handshakes, and Pancakes
“It’s been a month,” Tim points out.
“Five weeks and two days,” you correct softly, looking at Tim’s hands rather than his face.
“That’s worse.”
You glance up at him, unsurprised to see that he’s looking directly at you. He hides his smile and lifts his brows.
“Breakfast with a few of my friends can’t be that bad,” he assures. “I don’t even like spending time with them, but I’m still going.”
You push your hand against Tim’s chest before you ask, “Will Lucy be there?”
“Yes,” Tim answers, wondering why you’d ask about her. He’s told you stories about all of them, but this is the big day (Angela’s words) when you finally meet them.
Nodding, you agree to go, then wrap your arms tightly around Tim’s waist. He uses your grip on him to get you out of the door and into his truck. It’s not that you don’t like spending time with Tim or don’t want to meet his friends, but it’s hard being around new people when you’re shy, and you don’t want to make a bad impression and lose Tim forever.
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“It’ll be right out,” the waitress says after taking drink orders.
“Thanks,” you whisper to Tim.
“For what?” he replies, lifting his brows innocently like he doesn’t remember ordering for you.
“Tim!” Lucy calls as the door to the restaurant opens behind you.
You smile and turn, then stand and hug Lucy. She pulls back and offers her right hand, which you take in yours. Tim watches as you shake her hand, then flip your fingers to hold her wrist before sliding your palms against one another. Laughing as you hook your fingers with Lucy’s, then snap, you almost forget that other people are around.
“Um, excuse me?” Angela interjects as she stops beside you. “I want a handshake.”
“It’s reserved for best friends,” Lucy argues. She winks at you as she sits beside you.
Angela groans, then smiles and introduces herself and Wesley Evers. You shake their hands before you lower to your seat. Tim’s eyes are on you, but your neck is already warming, so you keep your gaze forward.
“I was under the impression we were all meeting you for the first time today,” Angela tells you, looking pointedly at Lucy.
“We met at the station,” Lucy explains. “I recognized her from one of Tim’s pictures.”
“When did you see my pictures?” Tim interrupts, momentarily distracted from his internal wondering of how you and Lucy hit it off so quickly.
“Anyway,” Lucy deflects, “Nolan is running a few minutes late, but he’ll be here soon.”
“Did you come up with the handshake yourself?” Wesley asks you.
“I did,” you answer softly. “But it was Lucy’s idea.”
“Were you on the clock?” Tim inquires over your head.
“No,” you and Lucy answer together.
Tim pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down to ask, “How long have you been friends?”
“About a month,” Lucy answers.
Their conversation is interrupted by the waitress returning with drinks for the table. After Angela thanks Tim for remembering her favorite, Tim gently taps his elbow against your arm. You turn toward him and interlace your fingers beneath the table.
“So, while I was fighting to get you to talk to me, hold eye contact… you were hanging out with Lucy and making secret handshakes?” he accuses.
“Bet you’re wishing you’d picked up Nolan,” Wesley tells Lucy.
“Wasn’t the goal of breakfast to let us bond?” Lucy defends for you. “We just bonded early.”
“He’s mad that you stole his girlfriend’s limited attention,” Angela explains. She meets your eyes and smiles. “No offense.”
“None taken,” you promise. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, Tim.”
Tim sighs and murmurs, “I suppose there will be even more handshakes now.” As Angela cheers, he reaches across the table for a straw and uses his arm as cover to whisper, “I’m the only one who gets secret kisses, though.”
You nod, fighting the shy smile growing at his words.
“Hey, Nolan,” Wesley calls. “Lucky for you, no one else has to talk once John gets here.”
Tim takes your hand under the table, and as his thumb brushes over your knuckles, you know your relationship is better than all the secret handshakes in the world. But then he orders for you, and the women at the table act like it’s the sweetest thing anyone has done since Fitzwilliam Darcy walked to propose to Elizabeth Bennet. You turn to hide your face against his arm.
“Wait, handshakes?” Nolan exclaims a moment later. “I love handshakes!”
“No you don’t,” Tim warns, his hand warm against your back.
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asgardian--angels · 1 day ago
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I don't talk about this much but I'm just going to say it now.
there's something uniquely vile about being the daughter of a father who is a trump supporter. and not just a casual supporter, a full drank-the-kool-aid moon-landing-was-fake deep red neonazi maga crackpot. because I had to watch that change happen over the last decade. my father, an intelligent, introspective scientist, whose brain has essentially turned to mush and critical thinking skills shriveled up and died thanks to that orange rapist.
He has always loved me, supported me to be whatever I want to be, given me the most opportunities he could in life. He taught me to be kind, and forgiving, and to remember that we are all in this together. And now, while still claiming to feel that way, he vehemently, and viciously, spews hateful rhetoric and vitriol against women, against climate change, against democrats, against all the things I am, against the field of study I've dedicated my life, my soul to. We can no longer even have a regular conversation because all he does all day is sit online and watch trump rallies, listen to 'patriot' podcasts, and troll people on forums. He has nothing else to talk about, and cannot be negotiated with. Him and I used to love having sparring matches of wit, picking topics to debate in good faith. Now, any hint of a challenge and he becomes enraged, petty, and belittling. He somehow maintains this hypocritic fallacy in his mind that he is a good person, that he does everything to make my life better, and that humankind must come together to make a better future. Just, not *those* people, I guess, not them or them or them who aren't even people to him.
And I must occupy some gray area in his mind, Schrodinger's political prisoner. Because even though he knows I am a democrat, that I am a woman who will be affected by these laws, that I study climate change in the work that he supposedly supports, I must not be to him, one of 'those' people. I'm not like 'those' democrats, 'those' women, 'those' climate change cronies. Except when I am, because if we argue, if we discuss policy at all, I am just a girl, under his roof, and I have no idea what I'm talking about - because I'm young, because women aren't capable of understanding His greatness, because Elite Academia has brainwashed me into being a liberal. That my mom and I are ganging up on him, constantly, to paint him as the villain when he's only the victim. He's going to elect the man who will save us all, whether we want it or not. Our say doesn't matter, because we just don't understand.
I miss the father I knew. He was always petty, always ready to poke and prod - he hurt my feelings plenty, but I could deal with it. But I felt he was genuinely good at his core, that he tried his best. Now, I don't know him. I don't recognize him anymore. I've imagined so many times what I would say to him if I could give a speech, or write a letter, where he could not talk back and just had to listen. I don't know if I'll ever get that chance, or take it. But I know he has truly no idea how hurt and betrayed I am, and he wouldn't believe me if I told him. He knows no shame, and he does not apologize.
I'm not looking forward to spending the winter at home with him every day for two months. I don't see how I can look him in the eye. And how dare he look me in the eye after fucking me over.
I love my father, no matter what, and that's why it hurts me so badly to see him change into a stranger, and wonder if there was anything more I could have done to change his mind before this transformation completed. Knowing that it's not my responsibility to argue with him to try and make him see reason when he's too far gone and all it does is make me feel like shit, and yet.
I'm sorry to everyone who may relate to this within their own families. It's probably going to get worse. These men will feel empowered to speak their minds and force you to hear it. They try to provoke you, just so they can say you're hysterical or overreact as women do, when you get reasonably upset. Know that you're not alone in this, Trump has truly torn families apart in ways that I don't think will ever heal.
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twig-tea · 1 day ago
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Water Bottles in the Fridge as a Relationship Metaphor [Eps 5 and 6 of LITBC]
I sobbed after finishing Episodes 5 and 6 of Love in the Big City and I have been trying to find the words to articulate why but they aren't coming. So instead I'm going to talk about this relationship, focusing on the image that stuck strongest in my mind: The water bottles. [No book spoilers, this is all just reaction to the series].
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After Gyu Ho moves in, Yeong comes home from a really draining day at work late because he's been writing in a cafe, only to passive-aggressively spray the drying laundry to mask the smell and stare at the empty shelf in the fridge where their stash of water bottles should be. He goes to his laptop to write more of his novel, while Gyu Ho behind him puts the laundry in the dryer and fills up the fridge with water. There are at least two other times when Gyu Ho fills up the fridge with water after one of their fights; the other one that stood out to me was Gyu Ho putting water in the fridge after coming home with his suitcase rather than moving out/leaving permanently. That relatively small but repeated chore stuck with me as an embodiment of Gyu Ho's tip-toeing that Yeong mentions in his voiceover.
If you've ever lived with anyone else, you know how the tiniest things can become massive irritants, especially when you are depressed or stressed, but it's true anytime. And you also know that those massive irritants do not mean you love them any less. I was blown away by how well these episodes, especially episode 6, captured a long term relationship's ups, downs, and mundanity. The palpable tension between Yeong and Gyu Ho, mixed with the easy dissipation of that tension and back to life as normal, radiated from the screen. Even when they fight, like in the cafe where Yeong is writing, they are fighting about how they want good things for each other. They just have different ideas about what that looks like and how they get there. I loved the tiny moments like Yeong, frustrated after the fight, walking home and hearing a stranger cuss out a cat, and smiling to himself because it reminded him of the 'Crabby Tabby' nickname Gyu Ho gave him.
[This is a bit of a sidenote, but the difference between Yeong Su's 'I'm moving to New York, did you think what we had was love?' and Gyu Ho's 'Come to Shanghai with me, I won't go without you' is so massive it's still sitting with me days later.]
It's clear that they're both trying, and at the same time, that they both are holding or held back. Gyu Ho is not a pushover and does hold his own in these arguments, and does make his mark on the space by e.g. putting up curtains, but he keeps backing down in the end; and Yeong continues to keep him at arms length even after trusting him with his biggest secret and deepest shame, and even after inviting him to live together. It's clear that sharing knowledge of Kylie does not free Yeong from shame about her. He asks Gyu Ho multiple times where he sees him as 'dirty', and Gyu Ho's response that he's the dirtiest joke is, I think, a loving attempt to say no in a way that Yeong can hear.
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The scene on the train to the airport near the end of the episode captured their dynamic perfectly; Gyu Ho is willing to stand in order to spend time with Yeong, and Yeong is unwilling to let him. And Yeong is fundamentally correct that the circumstances of their lives (especially his life, with Kylie) mean that he would be holding Gyu Ho back, and Gyu Ho in the end makes the choice to listen and leave Yeong when he's told to rather than continue to fight him on it.
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Yeong noticed and got annoyed by the water shelf not being refilled one time, And Gyu Ho filled it every time since, even when he was furious and barely wanted to be there at all. And Yeong noticed, but didn't know what to do about it, the same way he noticed how Gyu Ho always slept silently, and would constantly check his breathing (and even made snoring noises to himself to fill the silence), and took that as a sign that Gyu Ho did not feel safe or fully settled. He was unclear how much his own behaviour vs. Gyu Ho's personality were to blame:
"I wonder why you sleep in utter silence, like you're constantly on tip-toes. As if you're never home, no matter how long you've lived here. Is that my fault? Or is it your fault? Or maybe it's simply an inevitability."
I think it's the fact that these two love each other so much, and were both so reasonable and tried so hard, still could not make things work, and how fucking unfair it all feels, that made me sob. I don't know that I'll find better words than that.
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sondheim-girly · 14 hours ago
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my submission for day 4 of @outsidersweek! Thanks again to @walmartbrandwhatever for being my beta reader, and here's the link to the previous chapter in case you missed it.
September, 1967
Marcia
Marcia hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d just sat and watched the movie with Cherry and those two harmless greaser boys. However when Trip saw her sitting with them, he didn’t think of it that way. It seemed as though every other day now they found something to be arguing about, it didn’t matter what it was. It was exhausting, and sometimes Marcia wished she could just break it off. But when they weren’t in an argument, he treated her like a queen. In those moments she was so in love with him that it made up for everything else. It was this endless cycle, going back and forth and never ever breaking. 
So, when he saw her with those two boys and got mad, fixing things was simply second nature. She knew exactly how to shower him with affection, apologies, and kisses, until he forgot why he was even mad in the first place. Once she finally managed to get Trip to calm down, his attention turned over to Cherry, who was still hanging out with one of those greaser boys. 
“What is she doing walking around with that greaser kid?” Trip scoffed, his eyes trailing Cherry and her unlikely friend as they walked away from the concessions stand. “I can’t believe her.” 
Marcia hated when Trip got like this, just itching for a fight. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t even spend one calm night together. But she just sighed, and gently placed her hand on Trips cheek, attempting to bring his eyes back to her. 
“Trip calm down, they aren’t doing anything wrong,” Marcia tried to keep the exasperation from her voice.
“I’m sure Bob would disagree,”
“Well that's on Bob then! He ran off and left her alone, it’s not her fault.”
“It is her fault, she was flirting with Chet,”
“She was talking with Chet! Trip, please just leave it.” Marcia urged, running her hand through Trips' hair. He finally let out a resigned sigh, and gave into her. 
Two-Bit
Two-Bit was no stranger to flirting with girls. He did it all the time, in fact. It never felt like something that was a big deal to him, probably because the only girls he flirted with were simply looking for a distraction that neither of them cared about. And Two-Bit didn’t mind that. He liked the little flings! He liked the soc girls who’d engage with him for a minute, just for a thrill, before running back to their friends and forgetting it had ever happened.
Yet this was never the case with Marcia. He wasn’t sure why it was so different, why they’d made a connection that day at the drive-in, like an invisible string pulling them together. But after that day it seemed any time they were both at the drive-in, sequestered into their separate areas with their friends, they’d always find some way to flirt. Being next to each other in line at the concession stand, or sneaking glances any moment they could without their friends noticing. An idiotic idea if Two-Bit were being honest with himself, because he just knew the moment her boyfriend noticed, Two would be as good as dead. But he didn’t stop, and neither did she.
He was just musing on this while sitting in the back of the drive in, when he heard some sort of commotion going on. 
“CHERRY!” An angry voice shouted, “what the hell are you doing hanging around this ignorant piece of shit!?”
Two-Bit jumped up to see a drunk boy yelling at a pretty redhead, and across from the redhead? The youngest Curtis. Two raced over to Pony’s side in an instant.
“Is there a problem, Robert?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“You greasers don’t know where your damn place is. Opie Taylor here was moving in on my lady.”
“We were just talking,” Pony retorted. His face was cold, but Two knew him well enough to see how uncomfortable he was.
“you were just talking?” Bob looked over at Cherry. “Is that what that was?” He asked, as he made his way over to his girlfriend. “Cherry, get in the car.”
“How much have you had to drink?” Cherry asked quietly,
“Enough to know we’re done here.” He responded. Cherry shook her head and stepped back.
Two-Bit didn’t quite know why he kept on getting involved, but his mother had always taught him to treat women with the utmost respect, and seeing mr. prom king yell at that girl fired something up inside him. “It’s pretty clear the lady doesn’t want to ride with you… prom king,” he interjected with a laugh.
Bob stared at Two-Bit in disbelief. “You wanna fight? Just me and you? ” Bob challenged, taking off his pristine letterman jacket and handing it to his girlfriend without even glancing at her. His friends all started to gather around closer. “Man to man?” 
Two-Bit wasn’t one to chicken out of a fight, and definitely not one with some soc who’s drunk out of his mind, but there was something nagging at the back of his brain knowing that Marcia was standing there, watching him. He couldn’t help but take a moment to consider what she’d think if he fought Bob. He remembered a few weeks back when she’d gotten into an awful fight with her boyfriend because he showed up to the drive-in all busted up. He could still hear her voice yelling that she didn’t want him to get into fights. Against his better judgment, he glanced over at her. She had done a double take when she saw that he was looking at her, and her hazel eyes were begging something from him. He snapped his gaze back down to where Bob had drawn a line in that gravel before he could give her a moment's more thought.
 “Step up to the line, sugarbush,” Bob said. Two hesitated, but he heard those boys making fun of him, and Two-Bit Matthew’s had never been afraid of a fight. It didn’t matter what some pretty girl thought about it, she had a boyfriend, and she’d stay with that asshole no matter what he did. Two dropped his can of beer in Ponyboy's hands and raced towards Bob, but he stopped when he heard a loud interjection.
“Enough!!! I’m not going anywhere with anybody!!” Cherry yelled,
“Sherri Elaine Valance, get in the car!” Bob yelled, shocking Two-Bit. Calling his girlfriend by her full name? That was sure to help. 
“Bob, we’re done,” Cherry said, throwing his letterman jacket at Bob's feet. There was a pause, palpable tension rising through the air.
“What do you mean we’re done? What does that even mean?” Bob protested,
“It means she’s done Bob!” Marcia yelled.
“Eat shit Marcia!” Bob retorted, and Two-Bit was feeling more ready than ever to put this motherfucker in his place.
“Stop it! Just stop! It’s over, ok Bob? This is over!” Cherry repeated. Bob just looked at her in shock.
“Did you just break up with me?” he asked in disbelief. “Is that what just happened? Cherry, get in the car. Now!” He moved towards her threateningly with a final dangerous plea. Cherry crossed her arms and planted her feet, and Two-Bit couldn't help but admire her stubbornness. 
Bob looked at her for a last moment, before turning back around and coming at Two-Bit for a fight. Two just shoved him away, and he was close enough to see that alongside all the anger, there was heartbreak in Bob's eyes.
Marcia
“You’re fucking dead, loser!” Bob yelled at that kid, Ponyboy. Marcia wished she could move, but Trip had been holding her back the entire time, his arm snaking around the front of her waist. Bob was finally leaving, their friends started following suit. Other than, of course, Cherry. Marcia still couldn’t believe Cherry’d finally had the guts to break it off with Bob. She knew how much Cherry loved him, but she still couldn’t help but think that this was a long time coming. Trip grabbed Marcia’s hand and started dragging her behind him to follow their friends, snapping Marcia back to reality. She tore her hand out of his, stepping back. He stared at her for a moment, and she wondered if he’d have the nerve to start a fight. But maybe with the air of break ups flying around, he wasn’t in the mood to risk anything. He let her stay without a word. When Marcia turned away, Cherry was already making her way towards her. The two friends met, but Cherry's attention had turned on Ponyboy. She squeezed Marcias hand, then stepped away to go up to the boy. Marcia just stood there, stuck.
Cherry stayed over at Marcia’s house that night. At around 3am Marcia was sitting on her bed with Cherry, comforting the crying girl as best she could. Her mind wouldn’t stop going back to Two-Bit standing up for them. Well, certainly he was just helping out his friend, Ponyboy. But he’d helped Cherry as well, hadn’t he? She sighed. Why was that what she was worried about, when her boyfriend was probably mad at her, and he best friend was nursing a broken heart! Speaking of which, it seemed like Cherry had finally fallen asleep. Marcia lay her down, covering her with a blanket. Marcia stood up, her stomach in knots, and went down to the kitchen to make herself some tea. She had this feeling in her gut that something was wrong. She was proven right when she heard a frantic knock on her front door. She immediately ran to open it, confused and terrified about who could be at her house this time of the night. When she saw her boyfriend standing there, his face blank, it was like time stopped. 
She remembered him choking out what had happened. She remembered falling to her knees in horror. She remembered Cherry coming downstairs, having been woken up by the commotion. She remembered watching her best friend's face as Trip told her what had happened. It was something she never wanted to relive- she’d never seen grief like this. The screaming through the sobs was a sound Marcia was sure would stick with her for the rest of her life. She remembered holding her best friend as even more waves and waves of tears wracked her body. Trip stayed for a while, sitting with his back against the front door just staring ahead of him, unable to process what had happened. 
Something broke in all of them that night, Marcia thought. What do you do when a life is taken from you so soon, so quickly? He was only 17 years old. Marcia really hated him sometimes. The way he’d get drunk and get all the boys into trouble. His eyes had been like ice to Marcia, and he could be so rude. He used to try and get along with her, but eventually he gave up and either ignored her or was flat out mean. She knew he hadn’t deserved Cherry, but she also knew how much they loved each other. The way Cherry used to talk about him… and now he was gone. It didn’t matter that he could be so horrible, he shouldn’t have died. No one should die that young. 
Trip eventually left, without saying a word. But Marcia sat there, holding Cherry until the sun rose. 
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sherlock-is-ace · 7 months ago
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#gonna be depressing in the tags for a moment#pls excuse me#but whenevery i see a pair of friends that are like soulmates together#who laugh and scream about what they love and have so many things in common#i always become the personification of ''i want what they have''#ever since i was a child i would pray (you heard that right lol) to get a best friend who shared my interests and passions#(and who was gay but that's included in interests and passions lol tho i didn't know it at the time)#i dream with the sitcom worthy friendships with the you get the key to my house and you can come in whenever#we just spend days sitting together and not even talking just being there#or the next best thing. find it online!#but that will never happen and i need to accept that#not even for lack of trying... i even went to a hobby class for a whole month trying to make friends irl#but it's impossible for the simplest reason... i don't enjoy it!#every time i try to do something new and out of my comfort zone i fail misserably because it's literal hell to me#how can i make a friend if i cannot talk to people?#online or whatever?!#i can't even talk to the people i know from school or whatever#i put in so much fucking effort and freak myself out!#and it's not working and it won't work and idk what to do about it!#so yeah i don't think i'm capable of having meaningful relationships actually#and i need to really accept that cause otherwise i will forever dream with it#like i need to stop trying to chase after it it's just not gonna happen#i guess people have these feelings about romantic partners? well not me lol#anyways...#angel talks#personal
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zemnarihah · 8 months ago
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my best friend has been very distant w me lately and i asked today if she wanted to hang out and she said she probably couldn't bc it's her brothers birthday but she would let me know if she could and i have her location and i just looked and she's at her boyfriends house rn....
#we have it bc we're roomates so we started sharing locations when we first moved in like in case someone doesn't come home at night or smth#she recently told me that she wants to move out bc she has always wanted to live alone and she can finally afford it. and i asked her#directly like is there an issue because she is so non confrontational so she has never ever mentioned me doing anything that bothers her#and i said please tell me if there's something wrong because it would really suck if there was and i never got a chance to fix it because#you never told me. and she said no it has nothing to do with that i really just feel like it's time for me to live on my own. and a couple#days ago she was like okay i'm next in line for my apartment i'll probably move out in april. and i try to get her to hang out still and#she always has something else going on and i swear every night this week she's been at her boyfriends.#and if i see her around our apartment and try to make conversation at all she's so like short about it and barely responds like will only#give one word answers. i feel like it kind of started when i started dating e but i realized that i was spending less time with her and i#didn't want to be the girl that loses all my friends bc of a boyfriend so i started specifically reaching out to hang out with her and she#says no most of the time and never asks me. like i don't know what else i can do.#i'm like maybe it's bc of her boyfriend? bc they've been on again off again for a long time and previously when they were together it was#really distant with her like i barely saw her EVER. and they were mostly broken up for the past couple years and have been together i think#for a while again... but she knows i don't approve of that relationship and so she would like not say when they were talking again. so maybe#since lately they've been hanging out or dating or WHATEVER she doesn't fucking tell me what's going on with him. maybe that's why.#i literally like try to think of ways it could be my fault and maybe i'm being crazy but i cannot even think to blame myself for more than a#fleeting second bc i'm like. i have ASKED HER directly if there is an issue or something i do that bothers her and she says no. so even if#i'm somehow pissing her off would i ever know to change anything?? i just feel so frustrated bc it's like she's an entirely different person#to me. like this is not the person i know. and i don't know what else i could possibly do like i feel like we need to sit down and have a#conversation about it but what good does that do if she just acts like nothing is wrong. but i don't want to lose my friend i have such a#hard time making friends. i've known her since i was 14 like i can't imagine my life without her. we were the only two in our whole friend#group in high school to get out of the church i still love those other girls but we have so little in common now.
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wisteryuu · 11 days ago
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vent in tags don't mind me
#skye talks#vent#it's been a long time since i had a panic attack in the grocery store but here we are#maybe it has something to do with spending my last money on food and gas#new job tomorrow just gotta make it through#all my days are full of tasks now and i have no choice really i gotta do things i gotta maintain and yet im so tired my whole body aches#i want to sleep for twenty years and i haven't even started yet#actually i want to sob and someone to run their hands through my hair#i got home and nearly fell asleep sitting in my car and my muscles keep twitching like they'll cramp#and my feet feel like they're going to split in half#and all the lights in my space were different from how i left them and blinds were open that I didn't and somebody turned my fan off#and like wow i really can't leave my room for even a day without everything being different#and they'll just yell at me and yell me I'm being so disagreeable and difficult if i beg them once sgain to please respect my space#I'm 30 amd saving to move out but they open the door on me unannounced like I'm a child#and i nearly started sobbing in the kitchen as i tried to pack up some chopped onions in the freezer and I coulnt even do that#i begged four separate times in like ten minutes to please let me do this stop goving me other bags stop questioning what I'm putting where#i just couldn't talk i could barely hold myself together#everything in my body hurt and my chest feels like it's being stabbed and my brain is screaming at me and i just#i just needed to put the onions in the freezer and be allowed to be nonverbal and it was too much and it took everything i had#all of it to just beg and say please don't talk to me I'm so tired i just need to do this#and i got literally shrieked at the fourth time i said it#i just#i don't#oh my god i'm gonna lay here for hours and maybe cry again#AND THAT'S NOT EVEN THE BIGGEST THING ON MY MIND IT WAS JUST THE PANIC AFTERMATH#somebody sedate me or something why is it all so hard#I'll deal with it but holy fucking shit
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brimstoneandtreacle · 6 months ago
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i'm constantly trying to convince myself that he doesn't feel anything towards me (even Friendship feelings) but then i remember things that make me go "there is No fucking way he doesn't feel Something." and then i start trying to convince myself he doesn't again
#while i was typing the tags of my last post i started thinking about how much effort he put into spending time with me on the last day of—#classes because he knew we wouldn't see each other until august#i mean he went out of his Way to spend time with me. he'd never done that before#we had never even Alluded to like 'let's talk later' unless we had some Official thing to talk about#but that day we didn't have anything official to talk about#and yet he was saying things like 'i'll be back in my office in like 20 minutes tops' (with a tone of 'come see me when i get back')#and literally 'i hope i get to see you again before i have to leave'#and him having to write emails while i was sitting with him in his office but when i protested out of worry that i was interrupting his—#work he said 'no no! i want you here. i want to keep talking' and would apologise for having to do little tasks at the same time#and when he had to leave (had to go pick up his son) i walked out to our cars (parked next to each other) with him#and when we got to our cars he turned to me and paused in the way you do when there's an Important goodbye to say#and Insisted that i keep in touch. with so much Emphasis. no one has ever said it like that to me#he didn't say it in a 'just being nice' tone#idk. idk!#he Really treated me differently that day. as in he treated me with so much more idk like.#Affection. Warmth. Closeness. idk ! maybe it was just bc it was the last day but i feel like it was also bc Since it was the last—#day of classes he felt like he could let some professionalism slide & treat me more in the fashion that he Wants to#or at least a sneak peak of it#but then again. maybe he was just Humouring me the entire time. bc he knew I would want to see him extra bc it was the last day#idk. we spent hours together. that's a long time to humour someone#but still idk..#db#epilogue
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kuromi-hoemie · 8 months ago
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I've been hanging out with my manager so much lately !! i usually only talk to her virtually once a week, i am so energized.. i love her 😩
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#every time we work together it's basically just hanging out n being productive at the same time#and we click v well :3 i feel like we have gotten closer!! she gave me some pointers bc I'm doing my first annual review in a few days#which I'm Very New to bc this is my first time being a manager fr 👉🏾👈🏾 wanna make sure i do it right bc my associate is v v appreciated#always idk she fills me with energy and even just talking to her virtually i feel like i can take on the world so i am living rn fe#fr#☝🏾😌 and I'm going back tomorrow. sometimes things being chaotically busy is good#we r setting up a new office together on short notice and it's gone surprisingly well so far considering it's the#first time I've ever brought a new building up (⁠ ̄⁠ヘ⁠ ̄⁠;⁠) things r looking v good and we're almost done.#but in the meantime it's mostly just us in the office and it's nice to spend time together 😇 i can never get enough of her#😹 when she's at my office in my city she'll be like oh sorry I'll try to wrap up quick‚ so i can have my desk back n stuff#and I'll be like oh no ur good there's no rush 0: i always love ur company. I'll just work right here (⁠✿ ‚‚⌒‿⌒‚‚)#*pulls up a second chair or sits on the floor*#she's a real peach ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა ♡⁠#also she bought me lunch and i got us coffee today.. girl she brought me chicken satay !! 🤤#I'm still p set.. more time for antics before needing to eat.. thank u sm (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠)
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yzzart · 5 months ago
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౨ৎ⊹. BOYFRIEND!KENJI HEADCANONS!
── content warnings: F!reader, mention of Emiko, Emi and Mina, Ultraman form, Kenji being a little needy (once again), fluff, a little something to warm our hearts and minds so dreamy.
── word count: 683!
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⭑.ᐟ Underneath, and sometimes over, tight-fitting t-shirts and extremely expensive fabrics, wear a necklace; however, there is something special there. — His promise ring hangs on the gold chain; like a talisman, something that surrounds he with luck and passion. — Staying attached and close to you, even with a small object.
⤷ If he needs to think or try to decide something dramatically important and you're not around, Sato will take his fingers to the necklace and hold the ring; looking for guidance. — Oh, and waking up, before him, and contemplating that shiny and significant piece, which rests on his broad chest, is angelic.
⭑.ᐟ It's not uncommon to feel, in the middle of the night, Kenji's face trying, persistently, on your neck; readily, wanting to harness the huge and strong body between your. — He doesn't care about the grotesque difference in size, just at that moment, and he doesn't give up.
“Kenji, be careful…!” — Your voice, fully, drunk with sleep and maintaining stillness, murmured between the boy's black and shiny locks; who only responded with a snore, more like a purr and clinging even tighter to you.
⭑.ᐟ Sato can't keep his hands off you, no matter what's going on, what you're doing or what simple task you're performing; hands on your waist, kisses on every exposed and revealed part of your body, thin and wide fingers catching on some part of your clothes. — Don't be upset with him, this poor man is in love with you.
⤷ One day, Mina compared him to a sloth and obviously got a frown of disapproval and the adorable Emi observes how her “father” remains so attached to her “mother”. — Even laughing and grunting when he saw a completely sleepy and desperate Ken crawling towards you.
⭑.ᐟ Please, we have, we need to talk about all the times Kenji and Emi train together, most of the time, being just leisure moments, you sit in the stands, virtually, scheduled and cheer for them; accompanied by Mina. — The feeling of nostalgia, remembering an incredible part of his life, is exposed in Ken's chest; remembering his mother.
⭑.ᐟ I can easily imagine Ken pressing his nose against your cheek or neck wanting your attention; also, when he wants to show you the way Emi is sleeping, enjoying the baby's sweetness. — And, together, pressing his forehead against yours during countless moments of the day and night, when you get home after confronting some creature and every time he want to say "i love you" to you.
⭑.ᐟ This man knows you like the back of his hand; no one can disagree or dispute this fact. — Kenji pays attention to your gestures, noticing your body language and, for a matter of seconds, he knows that something is bothering you; and, there he is, dedicating himself, with all his attention, to doing his girl well.
⭑.ᐟ Funny situations, for Ken, between you and his Ultraman form are included in your lives. — Once, while chasing Aboras, he ended up finding you on the street, wanting to go home, and clearly he was distracted by wanting to cause a provocation. — Mina gave the boy a long, and rightly so, scolding.
“Go back to the house, young lady.” — The robotic voice filled a part of the city's environment, wanting to convey an authoritarian image. — “You know…” — He pointed one of his gigantic fingers in your direction, then towards the place he was. — “The streets have been very dangerous lately.” — Oh, you stopped yourself from answering him like you really wanted to.
“Thank you, so much, for the advice, Ultraman.”
⭑.ᐟ There are nights — many, many nights — that Ken spends watching, contemplating you sleeping, peacefully; your face remained full, without signs of tiredness, exquisite and messy locks spread out, this was adored by the player's eyes. — Between seconds of fascination, Kenji longed, dreamed, deeply and painfully, of his mother meeting you; this way, she would have the chance to know the light that raised her dear son.
⤷ Kenji prospers, sometimes praying, that one day his mother will return, safe and sound, and be able to achieve what he wants so much in his life.
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ariaste · 6 months ago
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listen ok so i made some good jokes yesterday about Lestat having an onlyfans but i am back today with a new essay and this one is entitled
Why The Invention Of Social Media Is Going to Permanently Save Loustat's Fucking Marriage
come on this journey with me.
ok so on one hand we have Louis, who does not like to leave the house except when he absolutely fucking has to and even then he resents it. my man wants to be at home with a book 100% of the time and he's so fucking valid for that. When he leaves the house, bad things happen to him. He has learned this and honestly i can't fault his evidence. it sucks out there. it truly incredibly sucks out there.
the problem is that sometimes he is married to lestat, who starts clawing at the walls if people aren't paying attention to him for 12 consecutive seconds, and being Out Of The House is the best place for him to go foraging for People To Pay Attention To Him. my man once had a rock star career the way that some people get addicted to meth brewed in a trashcan in someone's garage. Louis, through no fault of his own, is simply not capable of filling this psychological need no matter how hard he tries, except he should not even HAVE to try like that, because no one can do it, because Lestat is fucked up and like wasn't hugged enough as a child or something
this imbalance in their relationship is the core source of all their marital problems since day 1: THIS man's idea of a good time is chilling on the sofa in silence and maybe staring contemplatively at the wall for a while, and THIS man starts self-destructing at a truly astonishing rate if no one is making eye contact with him. If you make Louis go outside and socialize with people, he's miserable and sulking and whining about "are we done can we go home". If you make Lestat sit in silence in a chair for five minutes he starts crying and claiming that No One Has Ever Loved Him, Ever, Ever, And No One Understands Him, And He Hates Everyone In This House and He Is Being Actively Neglected And Cruelly Mistreated Right Now And No One Even Bothers To Feel Sorry For Him, This Is BASICALLY Domestic Violence Against Him Personally, If Only Anyone Knew About The Quiet Hidden Tragedies Of An Unhappy Marriage, and then he breaks some furniture and a window and isn't seen again for six weeks and comes back like "you will not believe what just happened, i [checks notes] met Merlin and also a dragon who gave me three wishes, brb i'm going to write another book about it :))))"
all you fucking have to do to fix their problems is to hand Lestat a cellphone and say the words "do you know about social media? you can say whatever shit you want and there's always someone awake in some time zone to talk to you." Suddenly Lestat is now very interested in sitting quietly on the couch, Lounging Alluringly and posting thirst traps on instagram and finally getting emotional fulfillment from all the likes and comments of "omg???? omg this is the hottest man alive". he does not have to leave the house anymore to get his attention meth. His yawning abyss of neediness is being fulfilled by having parasocial relationships with millions of strangers online who all think he's sexy and don't have to experience how fucking awful he is up close. he can flirt pointlessly with 200 people at once which is FINALLY ENOUGH FLIRTATIONS FOR HIM TO SATISFACTORILY JUGGLE
Meanwhile Louis is 3 feet away, vaguely reflecting to himself that HE is feeling all emotionally fulfilled because they're spending this great Quality Time together in perfect silence while he reads his book and Lestat plays on his cellular telephone and only OCCASIONALLY giggles to himself or says "louis which of these photos do you think is sexier, the one with four buttons undone or the one with five buttons undone" Louis is feeling like his Opinion is being Valued, Louis feels like he is being Consulted on Matters that are Important To Lestat. He has opinions about the photographs. It is not that much trouble to be interrupted from staring philosophically at the wall to spend five seconds looking at a photograph and then saying "that one". Finally he is experiencing Cozy Domesticity. he is so horny about it. lestat is surprised and bewildered about the sudden sharp increase in the amount of sex he is now getting but before he can make any vaguely mean comments about it (bc he's confused and vaguely defensive and worried that it's going to stop out of nowhere and he doesn't know any other interpersonal skills for expressing a thought) his phone pings about how he's just broken 5 million followers on instagram and he totally forgets to even mention the sex thing, which means that he continues getting the sex instead of inciting an argument about the sex and going through his 800th divorce from Louis
all their friends are extremely confused when a whole month, and then six months, and then a year goes by without another Loud Divorce happening and no one crashing through their front door like "I HAVE TO SLEEP IN YOUR GUEST COFFIN FOR THE NEXT MONTH, HE IS INTOLERABLE". They are worried. they are concerned. what is going on over there. are they both dead. no, they can't both be dead, Lestat just posted another tiktok of him sucking on his own fingers, which he would not be doing if Louis were dead. there is an ecosystem collapse happening in the groupchat and it's because the main Drama Vectors have been neutralized
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snoopyracing · 4 months ago
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birds of a feather // cl16
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
word count: 30k (i know i've got issues)
warnings: google translate french and swearing
includes: friends to lovers, childhood bestfriends, soulmate au if you squint, heavy pining, and angst
summary: follows charles and the reader through childhood all the way to present day. based off of 'birds of a feather' by billie eilish.
masterlist
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
five and eight
It's a hot summer day in Monaco the first time Charles meets you.
The evening sun cascaded through the windows, golden rays bouncing off the walls as the smell of his Mother's baking wafted through the house. Charles' legs soon carried him into the kitchen and to his delight he found her oven-mitt clad hand pulling out a tray from the oven. His eyes widen when he sees what it is, it's one of his favorite sweet treats; cookies. His Mother spots him as she turns to set them on the counter. "Bonjour chéri!"
Charles doesn't answer, he's too focused on the cookies. He knows she won't let him have one, it's too close to dinner time, but he could probably sneak one when she had her back turned. So when she goes to put something back in the fridge he knows this is his chance, but he's not fast enough. His little hand barely hovers over one of the cookies before his Mother is gently smacking it away.
"No Charles! They are for the Y/L/N's." She hands him a stack of plates, motioning towards the table. "Now go set the table, s'il te plaît." Charles whines about it not being fair before stomping towards the table.
All day the only topic of conversation in the Leclerc household was about how an old family friend was to be moving back to Monaco today. Charles and Arthur had no idea who the man their Father spoke so highly about was, but Lorenzo mentioned something about him being their "uncle", but not really their uncle. Something that at only eight years old, confused Charles.
Even during dinner it seems like his Father mentions their "uncle" somehow during every conversation. Between the constant talk of this mystery man and the cookies sitting feet away from him Charles thinks tonight's dinner is the longest dinner of his life. He can see them sitting there, the cookies taunting him the whole time he tries to eat the unpleasant brussel sprouts on his plate. He hears his Father mention their "uncle" again and his attention is brought back to the conversation. "Papa. Is he really our uncle?" Charles asks as he shoves around the food on his plate with his fork.
"Ah, no. I mean he practically is, but not by blood. He is a very old friend of mine. We grew up together, but he moved to America around nine years ago." He pauses for a moment, eyes flickering between Charles and Arthur. "I hate that Arthur and you don't know him, but he's back now, so hopefully you boys will see him as an uncle like Lorenzo does. Plus, their house is just down the street, so I'm sure we will be spending lots of time with each other."
All Charles can do is nod at him, he isn't sure that he can call this random man "uncle", but for his Father he will try to like him as much as he clearly does.
Dinner is over shortly after their conversation, with a little help from his Father's impatience to go see his old friend. And before Charles can try and sneak a cookie again they are out the door, the cookies held securely in his Mother's hands, heading to their "uncles" house.
Charles realizes his Father wasn't lying when he said their house was just down the street, in fact it's only a block away. He's surprised his Father wasn't dragging them here earlier today with how close it is.
His Father knocks on the door and after a moment a man answers."Hervé!” 
"Y/D/N!"
The two men embrace each other, big smiles plastered on both of their faces. "If it was up to me we would have been over as soon as you guys arrived earlier today, but Pascale insisted we give you guys a little time to settle in."
"Oh nonsense. You're fine." The man steps aside, motioning for everyone to come in. "Come on in. Don't mind the million boxes scattered around."
"It's a beautiful home." Pascale states as she glances around.
"Merci."
The man's eyes wander to Charles and his brothers. His arms extend towards Lorenzo and the two of them hug, the man tousling Lorenzo's hair as they pull away. "Dieu te regarde! You're practically a man!"
Lorenzo can only laugh at the man, whose attention is now on the two youngest Leclerc boys. He crouches down so he's at eye level with them. "Bonjour. I don't think we have met yet. I'm Y/D/N, a very old friend of your Papa's." His hand reaches out for Charles to shake. "You must be Charles."
Charles gently takes Y/D/N's hand and shakes it, something he's seen his Father do hundreds of times. "I am. How did you know?"
A smirk plays at Y/D/N's lips. "When your Papa and I speak, he loves to talk about his boys. Even the ones I didn't get the pleasure of meeting until now." His attention now moved to the youngest Leclerc. "Like you little Arthur." Little giggles came from Arthur as the man pinched his cheek.
"Are we going to get to meet the other members of your family Y/D/N?" Pascale asks.
"Patience still isn't your strong suit, is it Pascale?" The man teases as he leads them towards the kitchen.
As they enter the kitchen they find a woman with an American accent putting away dishes into the cabinets. From what Charles can gather from the conversation the adults are having is that their "uncle" met his wife while on business in America. They fell in love and he ended up moving there to be with her. They got married and had a daughter. He wanted to raise her here so they decided to move back to Monaco.
"Guess you should all meet the reason we moved huh? Y/N! Ma chérie come here!" Y/D/N yells.
And here you came, barreling into the kitchen, not knowing that there were five strangers standing there until it was too late. Cheeks turning pink as you hid behind your Mom's legs. "This shy little thing is our daughter, Y/N."
Pascale's face lit up at the sight of you. "Oh tu n'es pas une poupée? She's beautiful you two!" She glances over at your parents then back to you. "You look to be around the age of my two youngest boys, no?" She squats down so the two of you are eye level as you peak around your Mom's legs. "How old are you?" As you lifted your hand, little fingers all stood up straight indicating that you were five, Pascale smiled. 
"Oh, that's the same age as my Arthur." She points towards the smallest boy, who's dirty blonde hair almost covered his eyes. She then points to the slightly taller boy in the middle, his soft blue eyes watching his Mom intently. "That is Charles, he's a little older than Arthur and you. He's eight." Then she finally points to the obviously very older son. "And that is Lorenzo, he's a lot older. It makes me feel old to say this but he's eighteen!"
Your shyness somehow slowly got chipped away by Pascale and you were now standing beside your Mom, not behind her. "Go on baby. Say hi to them." You Mom encouraged as she brushed your hair out of your face.
Even if you had braved coming out from behind your Mom's legs, the idea of talking to these strangers still scared you. You looked over to your Dad who stared back at you, a smile on his face and a slight nod in your direction told you everything was going to be okay.
"Hi." You said meekly.
The two younger boys gave you a small wave in return.
The adults had started to converse, leaving the kids to stand there awkwardly. Not knowing each other well to be the one to initiate conversation or play.
Your Mom had noticed the quietness between you and the boys, and your constant presence by her legs. "Why don't you kids go play out back? The house luckily came with a playset that is begging to be played on." She pulled open the sliding door, motioning for the kids to go outside.
Arthur was the first to run outside, he was practically already at the door when he heard the word playset. His little legs were already running up the slide by the time Charles and you had exited the house.
You watched your feet drag across the grass as you swung back and forth on the swing. Your Dad's voice playing in your head as you heard Charles and Arthur's laughter echo through the hot summer air.
"I know this is a big change for you mon amour. But I promise, we wouldn't have made this big move if your Maman and I didn't think it wouldn't have been a good idea. It may take some time for you to adjust, but knowing you, in a couple weeks you'll probably be more of a Monégasque than me!"
"I'm only half though. How could I be more than you Papa?" Tiny giggles escaping you as you gave your Father a questioning look.
"Anything is possible chérie! Plus you remember me talking about your uncle Hervé? Well, he has two boys that are around the same age as you. And I'm positive you three will become the bestest of friends like we were at that age in no time. When your Uncle Hervé and I were younger people would always say "Wherever there is a Y/L/N there is a Leclerc" and I'm sure it will live on through you three."
As you watched the two Leclerc boys chase each other through the yard, you knew your Dad would want you to get up and go join them. He seemed so excited at the idea of you and the boys being friends and you didn't want to disappoint him, but at only five years old, your shyness overruled the majority of your decisions.
Charles, even though he was playing with his brother, had noticed how you hadn't left the swing since coming outside. He tried to put himself in your shoes, he couldn't even imagine what it would be like to move halfway across the world.
What it would be like to leave everything you've ever known behind and move to a country that is nothing like the one you'd spent your whole life in so far. Even if your Father was from here and technically Monaco is as much of your home as America ever was, he knows that at least right now, this place means nothing to you.
So, being the empath that he is, Charles decides that it's his mission to make you feel at home. To make you realize that Monaco has been your home all along. That if he was you right now, all he would want is for someone to befriend him, make him feel less alone. His first step; asking you to play.
His skinny frame soon occupies the empty swing next to you, hands gripping the chains as he barely moves back and forth. His feet mimicked yours, dirt and grass staining his white sneakers.
"Hi." Charles watched as your head perked up at his voice. Your doe eyes timidly looking over at him like you weren't sure if he was speaking to you.
"Hi."
"Do you wanna play with Arthur and me?" Charles hopes you don't run back inside after hearing his question, but when your face lights up, head nodding enthusiastically, his worries dissipate. You were just so glad that he had come over and asked you, because you would have sat there on that swing all evening if he hadn't.
In a matter of minutes your shyness and worries about upsetting your Father were replaced with bouts of laughter as Arthur and you ran from Charles. Gleeful screams and giggles filled the evening air as the three of you played and for the first time since getting told you were moving you felt carefree.
The loud laughter and yelling had gotten the attention of the adults and as they watched their children play through the sliding glass door they couldn't wipe the smiles off their faces.
"That didn't take long did it?" Your Mom felt a relief wash over her. At only five years old she knew this move was going to be hard on you, and she wished they could have just stayed in America. But who was she to deprive you of experiencing the life that was quite literally half of you. Deprive her husband of seeing his little girl experience the same things he did as a child.
And as she watched the way the three kids played together she knew it was the right decision. For you to come out of your shell so quickly meant that maybe things weren't going to be so bad here after all.
"Of course it didn't." Your Dad stood behind your Mom, his hand on her shoulder as he watched his little girl laugh and run around. "Because wherever there is a Y/L/N-"
"there is a Leclerc." Hervé finished, an equally big smile on his face.
The painting of orange and pink hues that filled the evening sky told everyone that the sun was making her farewell for the day. Though, that didn't stop you and the boys from still playing and eventually as the colorful painting turned to a star filled sky you all were called inside.
Rosy cheeks and sweaty foreheads adorned all three of your faces as you clambered into the kitchen. "Looks like you kids had fun." Pascale had grabbed the cookies off the counter, but as she opened the lid to offer the kids one, she had a better idea. "How about some ice cream?" Charles' eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. He loved cookies, but his one true love was ice cream. "I think the place down the road is still open."
And with an unspoken agreement, they are all out the door and headed towards the ice cream shop. Charles and you walk side by side with Arthur trailing behind the two of you. His complaints about being left out falling on deaf ears as Charles tells you about how good the ice cream place is.
The walk isn't a long one and before you realize it, you've arrived. The sickeningly sweet smell hits you as soon as you walk through the door, and your short legs carry you towards the counter, not paying mind to any sort of line that was already formed. Your face was practically pressed against the glass as you looked at all the flavors to choose from. But even with flavors like triple chocolate or strawberry or peanut butter cup. You always go with your tried and true; vanilla.
Charles and Arthur had joined you, faces as equally as close to the glass as yours.
"You think Maman will let me try them all?" Arthur asks, mouth practically watering at the sight in front of him.
"I don't know about that." You recognize your Dad's voice behind you. "You guys tell me what you want and then go wait at the table outside with Lorenzo." The three of you reluctantly turn away from the ice cream and when Arthur tells your Dad he wants mint, Charles and you share a disgusted look. "Ok mint for Arthur, what about you two?"
"Vanilla!" Comes out of both Charles and your mouth. Big smiles spread across your faces as you realize you both said the same thing.
"No way that's my favorite flavor!" Charles exclaims.
"Mine too!"
By the time your Dad comes outside with the ice cream Charles and you had established that; vanilla was the best flavor of ice cream ever, blue was your favorite color, red was his, you both loved dogs, and that he wanted to be a Formula 1 driver when he grew up. You didn't really know what that was, you think you had heard your Dad talking about it or watching it before, but the way Charles talked about it, it seemed like it was something big.
After many brain freezes and Arthur trying to make Charles and you try his mint ice cream, the night was coming to an end. The walk back home was filled with talks of things that you guys had to do this summer, according to Charles, and about how tonight would not be the last trip to the ice cream shop.
As you arrived at your house the grownups said their farewells and goodnights, while you gave everyone a simple wave goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow!" Charles yelled as you entered the front door, and all you could do was yell back.
"Ok!"
And Charles wasn't lying, you did see him the next day, and the day after that. In fact, any free day that you or the youngest Leclerc boys had were spent in each other's company that summer. By the time school started back up the three of you were inseparable. 
The idea of starting at a new school in a different country while knowing no one scared you, so you were glad to have Arthur with you in class and just knowing Charles was in the building made you feel more at ease. Any worries you had about moving to Monaco had dissipated and Charles had just somehow knew that he had accomplished his mission of making you feel at home. It may have taken him all summer, but you were practically family at this point to him.
So when he heard from Arthur about a couple boys in your class not being the friendliest towards you, something about you being an annoying American, he knew he had to defend you.
Charles fortunately had caught them in the act one day. Your cheeks slightly damp and eyes red told Charles it wasn't just them saying you were annoying. You wouldn't tell him what they said to you, but that didn't stop him from telling the boys off. It didn't take much for them to run off, heck Charles could have just stared at them and they probably would have darted, him somewhat forgetting they were probably only five or six, but still there was no reason for them to be mean to you.
Charles wiped away your tears before pulling you in for a hug. "They shouldn't bother you anymore, but if they ever do come tell me. You know you've always got me and Arthur and if it gets bad enough I guess we could tell Lorenzo." The mention of the oldest Leclerc boy made you giggle and Charles was so happy to see a smile on your face again. "You've always got me Y/N, we've got each other. I promise." He held out his pinky finger towards you and you hooked yours around his, officially sealing the promise
And from that moment on, you two always did have each other.
 ten and thirteen
Five years had passed since you first met Charles, and in those five years your bond only grew stronger. Not only with each other, but with each other's families too. To Pascale you were the daughter she always wanted and your Dad treated the Leclerc boys like his sons. It was like you guys filled in the missing pieces in each other's families.
Multiple scrapbooks were filled over the years with memories that would last a lifetime. Pictures of the joint family vacations that were taken every year, first and last day of school pictures, birthdays, and major milestones all filled the pages.
Looking back now your Mom could have kicked herself for ever second guessing the decision to move. Clearly this was where you guys were supposed to be, where you were supposed to be. Everything just felt right. It felt like home.
A new thing that had become a part of your life in the past five years was karting. No, you didn't drive them, but Charles and Arthur did. So, that meant it was now a part of you. Multiple weekends were spent going to watch them race, the smell of exhaust and the sound of the engines were ingrained into your brain, but you had grown fond of it.
Although, in the last couple years Charles had started to take karting very seriously. You knew his dream was to be an F1 driver, and you knew (from him teaching you everything about it one day) how much dedication it took from a young age to get to the top. So, over the last year, when almost every weekend he was busy, you tried not to take it to heart.
Unfortunately for Arthur, this year his family had decided to focus solely on Charles' career for the time being, as karting was expensive, and having two boys doing it was just not something they could swing. But with Charles busy and Arthur now free it was almost like the boys had flip flopped positions in your life.
Between the two youngest Leclerc boys it was always very obvious that you gravitated more towards Charles, the two of you having a bond that many didn't understand, especially considering your age gap.
Three years isn't crazy per say, but at the age you two are right now it's a little different. Charles is thirteen, officially a teenager, while you're still only ten. Two very different stages in kids' lives, and sometimes recently it seemed like Charles was moving on, or growing up, and you worried that he wouldn't want to spend time with you anymore. Because really what thirteen year old wants to willingly hang out with a ten year old? You know you wouldn't want to hang out with a seven year old. 
But the slight gap that Charles was currently leaving in your life, Arthur had no problem filling it in.
During the school year you spent basically all your time with Arthur, being in the same grade and him not dedicating all his time to karting at the moment was a big contributing factor. You still saw Charles, but nearly as much as you used to. He had moved up to secondary school a year or so ago and unfortunately Arthur and you were still in your last year of primary school. So your time to see Charles was limited to his rare free weekends and sometimes after school. 
You had thought come summer time you would be able to see him more and were banking on your annual family vacation, but you were wrong. In fact, you barely even saw Arthur this summer. They were so busy with Charles karting it was like they didn't even live in their home. And when they were home your family was busy doing something.
The annual family vacation had to be canceled and you had basically gone the whole summer without seeing them. That was until today, two weeks before school started, when you came downstairs to see Charles and Arthur sitting on your couch talking to your Dad, who was sitting in a chair opposite of them.
"Ah, there she is." Your Dad had spotted you from the doorway. "They've come to steal you."
Rounding the side of the couch you were now stood in front of the two boys. Arthur was the first to jump up from the couch, his arms squeezing you into him, the two of you slightly swaying back and forth as giggles escaped past your lips. "Tu m'as manqué aussi Arthur."
As Arthur finally let you go your eyes fell on the middle Leclerc boy, who was still sat on the couch. "Charlie." The nickname you had given him that first summer had still stuck around five years later. It fell off your tongue with ease, basically second nature for you at this point. He never minded when you called him that, in fact sometimes he preferred it, but god forbid anyone else call him that.
You could see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, dimples peaking out as he tried to resist it more. As he stood up from the couch he finally let it free, the corners of his eyes crinkled and dimples on full display as he wrapped his arms around you. You noticed you guys weren't almost the same height anymore, your head hit at about his shoulder now. Had he gotten taller since the last time you saw him? There was no way he had grown that much in almost two months, but yet the proof was standing right infront of you.
"Tu m'as manqué." Charles stated as he pulled away from the hug.
"I figured you'd have your kart seat stuck to you when I saw you again."
"Well when that seat becomes an F1 seat, I know who will be the last person I invite to a race."
You wedged yourself between the two brothers on the couch as you rolled your eyes at Charles. "Yeah I won't need an invite because I'll have a permanent paddock pass." You weren't even sure if such a thing as a permanent paddock pass existed, but when Charles makes it into Formula 1, you had better have one.
"No doubt about it." Charles states, which gets him a smile from you in return.
"So what was Papa talking about? You guys are stealing me?"
"We've got something fun planned." Charles had a small smile on his face as he made eye contact with you. And as you stared back at him you noticed something else that had changed in the past two months, his hair. It was shaggy and almost covered his eyes if he didn't have it pushed to the side. You were surprised Pascale hadn't made him cut it yet, or that she hadn't snuck into his room at night and at least trimmed the hair around his face. It was just another sign of how long it had been since you'd seen each other.
You glanced over at your Dad, unsure of what "fun" they had planned, but he was no help. "What is it?"
"It's a surprise." Charles had stood up from the couch, eyes staring back down at you. "Well come on. We don't have all day."
"Be careful! Je t'aime!" Your Dad hollered as the three of you walked out the door.
"Je t'aime aussi!" You hollered back.
The warm sun beat down on you as you walked the familiar streets of Monaco, following the two boys in front of you. Your insistent pleas of wanting to know where you were going were ignored. And it didn't take long for you to just start guessing random places, which were all met with groaned no's from the boys.
Thankfully you guys had arrived at your destination because you were running out of places to name, but the place you were standing in front of was not where you had expected to end up. Though truly you should have known better.
"Did you guys really just bring me here to watch you two drive go-karts?" Of course they brought you to the track. It wasn't like you didn't like watching them race or even just screw around on the karts, but as of recently it was the one thing that was keeping Charles away from you. It just would have been nice to do something that didn't involve karting.
"We aren't the ones who are going to be driving them." Arthur's devious little smile on his face tells you everything you need to know.
"I don't think that's safe, and don't we need an adult with us?" So perhaps you were slightly scared at the idea of driving – no you were actually more worried than scared. You didn't want to seem like an idiot because you didn't know what to do or wreck and make a fool of yourself. That little shy five year old girl was slowly creeping back in as Arthur and Charles practically dragged you inside.
"The adult is already here." Charles points at Lorenzo who's filling out paperwork at the front counter. "I think it's time for you to learn, no?" Your eyes focus on Lorenzo, praying as an adult he has enough sense to not let this happen. But it was no use, he had already handed the worker the paperwork and was walking towards you with a bunch of gear in his hands.
"No chickening out this time petite soeur. Today is the day." Lorenzo stated.
Before you can even protest anymore Lorenzo is handing you all this stuff to put on, arms overflowing as you stare at him wide-eyed. "Do I really need all of this for" you glance over at the track then back at Charles "an indoor track?"
"Safety first Y/N. Plus you need to have the full karting experience." His dimples on display as he gives you a reassuring smile, that somehow works wonders on you, because you're putting on all the gear without him even asking. "Oh wait you're gonna need this." He slides a hair tie off his wrist and hands it over to you. His action put a smile on your face as you quickly tied your hair back.
It was something Charles had done for a couple years now, always having a hair tie on him. You were always pushing your hair out of your face or complaining about it being hot and of course you never had a hair tie with you. So, he just started wearing one on his wrist, so when you eventually needed one, he was there to provide.
With your gear on you guys walked over towards one of the karts and you made sure to listen intently as Charles explained how to work everything.
You slipped the helmet on and sat down in the kart, praying that you could remember what Charles had told you. "You've got this. Just remember what I said and we will be right here if you need us. I’ll be right here. I promise." Charles holds out his pinky finger, the familiar gesture between the two of you meant much more than just a simple promise. And as you hook your finger around his, you know it's going to be okay. "Please be careful. I think your Papa will have my head if you come back with even just a scratch." Lorenzo says as he double checks that you're strapped in well enough.
"I'll be fine."
You gave Charles one last final glance, who stood there giving you a thumbs up, before pressing your foot down on the accelerator. At first you were going so slow, scared that if you went too fast you were gonna wreck. But as you completed a couple laps you started to feel more comfortable and the cheers from the boys helped you out too.
"Floor it!" Arthur yells as you pass by on another lap.
You were really starting to have fun, so you listened to Arthur and pressed the pedal all the way down on the next straightaway. You felt like you were flying, but what you didn't know was that they had put you in the slowest kart, so you really weren't going as fast as you thought you were.
After a couple more laps Charles stood by the starting line, waving the checkered flag, a cheesy grin on his face as you passed by him. As the kart came to a stop you understood why they loved karting so much, it wasn't just fun, it was exhilarating, addicting, you already wanted to go again.
The boys surrounded the kart as you undid the straps and climbed out. As you took off the helmet you couldn't wipe the grin off your face. "Looks like you might have some competition Charles." Lorenzo teases.
Charles ignored his big brother's teasing and shifted his focus back to you. He had felt bad about not seeing you all summer and in all honesty not that much over this past year. But things in his life were changing, karting was becoming a much bigger deal, and he was winning, like a lot. He knew things were only going to go up from here. And as much as he loved racing, and god did he love it, he breathed it he dreamt it, racing was in his blood. There just weren't many times anymore where he felt like a thirteen year old, like a kid. It sometimes felt like he was missing out on things.
But Charles knew that when he came home from a busy weekend or practically a whole summer filled with racing, that things would always be the same at home. His Mom would always make spaghetti on Tuesday nights, you had to jiggle the handle on the gate to the backyard to get it to open, if you went into the ice cream shop on a Thursday night when the owner wasn't there you'd get extra ice cream, the lady across the street will yell at your for playing in the street, and you will always be a couple houses down. 
He knew that when he was around you that he could feel like a kid again. Sure, he had made plenty of friends through racing, but it seemed like all their conversations always somehow revolved or ended up referring to racing. Which wasn't a bad thing, because of course Charles loved racing. But sometimes he just wanted to talk about video games or other sports, or just something random. And he could do that with you.
Now granted, for someone who wanted to have a little break from racing before school started, you'd think he wouldn't be back at a track the first chance he got. But Charles had wanted to teach you how to kart for years, but each time he had mentioned it you chickened out. So he had finally gotten the nerve, with a little help from Lorenzo and Arthur, to just force you to learn.
He knew you'd do a good job, he never had a doubt. It was just your worries that prevented you from learning earlier. He knew you had grown to love the sport, from tagging along to some of his races, or how you can't wait for the Monaco grand prix every year, not to mention how glued you are to the TV when his free weekends and the F1 schedule line up. So, somehow in his own weird way, Charles knew you'd be a natural.
"You did do a good job, I'm proud of you." Charles flashes you a smile as you guys exit the track.
"Merci Charlie." You quickly shed all the gear and handed it back to Lorenzo. "I don't know why you guys didn't teach me earlier. That was so much fun. I see why you guys love it so much."
"Don't act like we haven't tried for years to get you to learn." Charles teases. "We basically just had to force you today."
Memories of all the past failed attempts at teaching you how to kart flooded your mind. The one time you hid in the bathroom claiming to be throwing up, the time you 'tripped' on your way into the building and said you sprained your ankle, or the many times you just flat out refused. So maybe them forcing you was for the better, because you wouldn't have taken the initiative on your own to learn.
"Whatever. At least I finally learned."
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The walk back to your house was filled with Charles filling you in on his exciting karting filled summer. From the new friends he had made to the races he had won, he didn't spare any detail. And you just walked beside him, listening to his every word, grateful to just have him back around. Arthur would pipe in occasionally to contradict something Charles had said, fulfilling his little brother duties. And as the three of you traveled through the principality, the summer sun high in the sky, you wished every day could be like this.
The fragrant jasmine shrubs that lined the sidewalk told you guys that you were close to home. "You guys wanna stay for dinner? It's Friday which means Mom's making something pasta related."
Charles would never turn down a Friday night dinner at your house and so he had no trouble in accepting your invitation. Arthur declined, stating that he was going to hang out with some of his other friends, and Lorenzo had split from you guys at the track. Which meant it was just Charles and you, which was fine with you.
The smell of your Mom's famous red sauce, that she swore had to cook for at least half the day, filled your nostrils as you walked through the door. "Mom! Papa! I’m home!"
"In the kitchen!" You heard your Mom shout.
You found your Mom furiously stirring something on the stove as Charles and you sat at the island counter directly in front of her. She tore her attention away from her cooking just long enough to notice Charles was with you. "Well look who's back! I hope you're staying for dinner?" A big smile accompanied her words as she spoke to Charles.
"Of course, you know I love Friday pasta nights."
"Well it's still gonna be a little bit until everything is ready, so if you kids are hungry grab a little snack or something." Her attention was already back to the bubbling pot in front of her before she had finished speaking.
Charles' stomach had been growling the whole walk home, and now sitting here smelling your Mom's cooking had it growling even more. So, he took up her offer and grabbed two tangerines from the bowl of fruit on the counter. Without even thinking about it, he peeled the first one and handed it over to you.
"You're spoiling her by peeling that for her Charles." Your Dad stated as he walked into the kitchen.
Charles shrugged at your Dad's comment as he continued to peel his own tangerine. "I don't mind it. I know she doesn't like to peel them and it's really not a big deal to me. So I guess as long as I'm around she won't have to."
You never gave a second thought about Charles peeling your fruit for you. He's done it ever since you expressed your dislike for peeling them years ago. To you it wasn't you being spoiled, it was just your best friend doing something nice for you. You gave Charles a smile as you popped another piece of the tangerine in your mouth. "Merci Charles." As you looked back towards your parents, you caught them staring at each other, eyebrows slightly raised, and smiles on their faces. "What?" You questioned.
"Oh nothing sweetie." Your Mom answered, attention turning back to the food. She knew you'd figure it out eventually.
The topic of conversation during dinner was all about karting. Your parents wanted to know all about Charles' wins and if anything exciting had happened during any of his races. Charles truly was like a son to them, granted all three of the Leclerc boys were, but you knew Charles was their favorite. They sat there listening intently as he told them everything and your Dad gave him nothing but praises back.
"You're gonna do great things Charles. I just know it."
And finally when Charles changed the conversation to how he finally taught you how to kart, your Dad though first worried at the idea of you getting hurt, was ecstatic to hear that you were quite good and that you enjoyed it. Your Mom didn't like the idea at all, the sour look on her face told you everything. "I can barely handle watching Charles, let alone my baby."
"I was the only one on the track, Mom. Plus it was just for fun, you don't have to worry about me doing the real thing. I really was not as good as Charles says I was." You tried to reassure her, but she still didn't seem pleased.
"Maybe it will help to know that we put her in the slowest kart." Charles chimed in.
Your head whipped to the right of you, where Charles was sat. "You put me in the slowest one?! You really thought I’d be that bad?"
"It was your first time! You were nervous as is, let alone putting you in a fast one."
A scoff came from you. "I feel cheated out of a real experience."
"Well, the slowest is fine with me. In fact, how do we find one slower than the slowest?" Your Mom inquired, nothing shy of a serious look on her face.
As dinner came to an end Charles and you helped clean up and then ventured out back. The sun had just set, allowing for dusk to settle in, the remnants of the sunset still lingering in the sky. The two of you found yourselves on familiar territory, the swings. The metal chains had slightly rusted over the years, but still held strong as the two of you swayed back and forth on them.
Silence fell between the two of you as you tried to figure out how to talk to Charles about the thing that had been subconsciously bothering you for a while. 
Him forgetting about you. 
He had his head down, staring at his feet as he slowly swung back and forth on the swing. "Charles?" He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, blue eyes slightly covered by his shaggy hair.
"Yeah?"
Your hands gripped the chains tighter as you stilled your movements, feet planted firmly in the worn patch of grass. "I need you to make me a promise."
He had copied your actions, even going as far as turning slightly to face you as he spoke. "For what?"
"I need you to promise that you won't forget about me. That when you make it into F1 and become super famous that you won't think I'm some loser. Or even when you move up to F3, just please promise me you won't forget about me."
Charles frowned at your words, never in a million years would he forget about you, or think you were a loser. He didn't want to get into F1 to become famous, yeah it was a perk of the job, but he wanted a seat in F1 because he loved racing, and it meant that he was one of the best in the world.
He held out his pinky finger towards you. "Do you remember what I said to you when those boys were teasing you during your first year here?" You shook your head, the memory replaying in your mind. "That you’ve always got me and I’ve always got you. So that means I don't think I could ever forget about you Y/N, whether I make it into F1 or not. And If I do, I'm gonna need my number one supporter there by my side aren't I? So I promise I won’t forget you."
A big smile spread across your face at his words and as you hooked your pinky finger around his, you knew the promise was true.
But what you didn't know was that sometimes promises are broken.
thirteen and sixteen
Thirteen is a very weird year for you. 
It’s not puberty or the ever revolving drama that comes with being thirteen that is making it a weird year. It’s the embarrassingly painful crush you’ve got on Charles. 
It’s a cliche really, having a crush on the cute older boy you’ve grown up with. 
And one might ask why is it embarrassing? For starters, you can’t be around him for more than five minutes without turning into a blushing mess. He stares at you for longer than a second? Game over. He smiles at you? Done for. He laughs at something you said? You’re dead. 
He doesn’t know he’s turning your thirteen year old brain into mush just by simply existing and it’s embarrassing to even think about him knowing that. 
On the other hand, it’s painful. You’re thirteen and he’s sixteen, once again at very different stages in life. And you know that he doesn’t like you back, that he only sees you as a little sister, but it still hurts. It hurts because you’re thirteen and you think that you’re mature for your age and you honestly think why wouldn’t he like you back. It’s something almost every young girl goes through, and unfortunately it’s happening to you with someone you are very close with. 
Yes, you had always thought he was cute, but that's because he was. That fluffy brown hair, long thick eyelashes that adorned his pretty eyes, his dimples, the little crinkles by his eyes when he smiled. Okay– so maybe that's how you would describe him now, but still, he was a cute kid also, there was no denying that. 
 But if you really had to figure out when you realized you had a crush on Charles it had to have been this past Christmas.   
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The holidays in Monaco were somewhat different than the few years you remembered back in America. You had stopped celebrating Thanksgiving after your Mom’s failed attempt at trying to make a Thanksgiving dinner your first year here. It wasn’t that your Mom was a bad cook, it was that it was somewhat hard to find everything needed for a Thanksgiving dinner in Monaco. And as hard as your Mom tried to make it work, it just wasn’t the same without that damn Ocean Spray cranberry sauce. 
So to make up for not celebrating Thanksgiving your family truly went all out for Christmas. The couple Christmases that you could remember back in America were nothing shy of magical, but ever since moving to Monaco, your family took Christmas very seriously. There was no denying that part of your household was American, because every year your house looked like it came straight out of a cult classic Christmas movie. Like Kevin McCallister or Clark Griswold had taken up residence in Monaco for the holidays. 
It wasn’t just the outside that was decorated, the inside was just as festive and of course the tree was the main focal point. It was a busy tree, your Mom never liked an aesthetically pleasing tree, it was sentimental or nothing to her. Ornaments that were passed down on her side of the family, ones you had made in school, and some you had gotten after moving all had a home on the tree. 
And as if decorating wasn’t enough for your family, your traditions were even more of a big deal. The most important one to you though was making cookies on Christmas Eve. Mainly because Arthur and Charles had been doing it with you since your first Christmas in Monaco. 
Christmas music played on the record player in the living room, the sound traveling into the kitchen as your Mom and you made sure you had everything ready to bake. You were in your own little world, picking out your favorite cookie cutters and humming along to Wham!’s Last Christmas when you heard your Mom speak up. “You’re just in time Charles.” 
Your eyes moved away from the pile of cookie cutters up to the garland decorated doorway where Charles was standing. A smile slowly crept its way onto your face as the two of you made eye contact. He looked cozy, the sweater he had on was slightly oversized and his hair had a messy fluffy look to it. 
You watched as he talked to your Mom, she was surely talking to him about racing, and he would always gladly answer her questions, as she was nothing shy of a second Mom to him. The longer you stared at him, you could feel your heartbeat quickening. And a feeling was arising in you that you had only ever experienced with a boy in your class a year or so ago.  Though, the feeling didn’t last long, you had caught him picking his nose, and with that went away any feelings you had towards him. 
You didn’t even want to think about the word that was happening right now, the idea of it only making your heart race even faster. You tore your eyes away from Charles and noticed that the youngest Leclerc brother was missing, so you blamed your rapid heart beat and surely pink cheeks on that.
You cleared your throat and tried to gather yourself before speaking. “Where’s Arthur?” 
Charles' attention was torn away from your Mom over to you. He pursed his lips, he didn’t know how to say nicely that Arthur said that baking Christmas cookies was for little kids, and he wasn’t a little kid anymore. He let out a sigh before speaking. “He’s not coming, he said he’s too old to be baking cookies.”
“But its-” 
“I know. I told him that it’s tradition and that you would be upset, but he wasn’t budging. So you’re stuck with just me.” 
It annoyed you that Arthur had bailed on you. There was no such thing as being too old to bake cookies, he was just being a jerk. And as far as you were concerned, he’s not allowed any of the cookies when your families have Christmas together tomorrow evening. 
On the bright side you get to have some one on one time with Charles, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise– Arthur bailing on you. You picked up the recipe card from the counter, waving it around in the air. “Well let’s get to work then.” 
Charles is at your side in an instant, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater as he waits for further instruction. 
“Do you think you kids can handle doing it by yourselves this year? I’ve got some last minute gifts that need to be wrapped.” Your Mom inquired, hopeful that you wouldn’t burn the house down on Christmas Eve. 
You didn’t even look up at her, eyes focused on the recipe in front of you, this was clearly something you took seriously. “Yes Mom.” 
Without a word she was gone, leaving Charles and you to your own devices. 
You can feel Charles peering over your shoulder. He’s practically right up against your side and you can feel the soft material of his sweater on your arm. All you can smell is his cologne, something he had started to use within the last year or two, thankfully moving on from the Axe body spray phase. And you’re trying not to make this seem like a big deal, because it’s truly not, but something has shifted in your thirteen year old brain. The same brain being scrambled by him right now, and you think you’ve read the damn recipe card at least ten times now. 
“Did you forget that the recipe is in American measuring terms?” Charles asks. The recipe was your Grandma’s and your Mom had never been bothered to convert it to the metric system. 
“Nope, just double checking everything.” You force a smile as you set down the recipe card and grab a mixing bowl. You added all the ingredients and made Charles do all the labor, which meant he had to mix it and then roll out the dough. 
You dug through the pile of cookie cutters looking for Charles favorite one. “Herree it isss.” You spoke in a sing songy voice as you held up the cookie cutter to Charles. His favorite in question? A penguin with a Santa hat on. Without fail, every Christmas, for the past eight years. Charles made an excessive amount of Santa hat penguin cookies. 
A grin spread across his face as you placed it in his hand. “Wouldn’t be Christmas without this guy.” He wasted no time in pressing the cutter down into the dough and before you guys knew it the first batch was done and in the oven. 
As you started on the next batch Charles kept a close eye on the baking cookies. The two of you allowed for Michael Buble to fill silence in the air and the mouthwatering smell of the cookies soon filled your nostrils. “You know you still call her Mom?”
Your eyebrows furrowed at Charles' random statement. “Huh?” 
He walked away from the oven and back to his original spot next to you. “You still call your Maman Mom.” 
“Yes?” You weren’t really sure where he was going with this, it was nothing new to either of you. 
“I just figured by now you would have made the switch. You speak French with everyone else.” 
You shrugged your shoulders at him, you had never really considered it, the idea felt weird even just thinking about it now. “I’ve always spoken English with my Mom and French with Papa. It would feel weird to switch stuff around now.” You stirred in the flour as you continued the conversation. “You know I could give you some English lessons if you’d like. I think that might have been what you were hinting at.” You teased. 
Charles' eyes widened at your words. “Are you saying my English is not good? I think I speak English very good!” 
“Well.” You didn’t skip a beat. 
“What?” 
“You think you speak English very w-” 
In an instant there is flour all over the upper part of your body, your movements stilled as you’re processing what Charles had just done. You’re mad at first, actually seething because your hair looked so good today and now it’s covered in flour. And you can’t see Charles because you haven’t moved an inch since he threw the flour at you, but he went from having a shit eating grin on his face to a oh shit expression. Your quietness has him worried that you’re actually really pissed at him, but when he hears his nickname come past your lips he knows you're not that mad at him. 
“Charlie. You better run.” 
He isn’t sure he’s heard you right, but when he sees you pick up the whole bag of flour his sock clad feet are sliding on the floor as he runs around the other side of the kitchen island. You're playing cat and mouse around the island for quite some time. The beeping from the oven time ignored multiple times as giggles from both of you filled the room. 
As Charles rounds the corner again his foot catches on one of the barstool legs and you know you’ve finally got him. He doesn’t fall, but he slips just enough to allow you to fully catch up to him. And you may or may not have thrown the whole bag of flour at him, but him being covered head to toe in flour says it was the whole bag. You definitely got him 10x worse than he did you and from that gleam in his eye you know what he’s going to do, but you can’t get away fast enough and his arms are around you in an instant. He shakes his head trying to get as much of the flour off of him and onto you and by you trying to free yourself from his grip he’s transferred a good amount from his clothes onto yours. “Charles! Let me go!” Your pleas are pitiful, laughter dripping off every word. 
“Oh my god!” 
Both of your eyes widen, bodies frozen at the sound of your Mom’s less than pleased voice. The two of you sheepishly stood there as your Mom looks like she’s about ready to cry and cuss you out at the same time. “I can’t leave you two alone for an hour?!” Her eyes shift to behind the two of you, panic written across her face. She’s practically running towards the oven and that’s when you realize the burning smell. And when she not so softly sets the cookie sheet onto the counter you know she’s really not happy. The cookies were burnt to a crisp, the poor Santa hat penguin never stood a chance. “I’m sorry Y/M/N. It was my fault, I started it.” Charles rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 
“I don’t care who started it because you’re both cleaning up this mess.” A deep sigh came from you Mom as she really took in just how big of a mess the two of you had made, her head shaking in disapproval as she left the two of you to clean up. 
When you knew she was out of earshot you couldn’t but let out a little giggle, it was like in school when you weren’t supposed to be laughing, but everything is just so funny, and Charles follows your actions seconds later. The two of you fools, covered in flour, cookies burnt, and in trouble as you stood there laughing. 
That night you couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in your bed, your brain would not shut off. And it wasn’t because you were excited for Christmas morning, you only wished that was the reason. You couldn’t get how good it felt to have Charles arms wrapped around you out of your mind, or how that stupid sweater made him look even more attractive than he already was. 
As you stared up at the ceiling, you knew you were screwed. You had a big fat crush on Charles and it was going to ruin your life. You knew he only saw you as a little sister and that made everything so much more worse to you. Why did you have to develop feelings for him of all people? 
Christmas morning came and went and before you knew it evening had arrived, meaning the Leclerc’s would be arriving soon. You were in charge of setting the table, a task you didn’t mind, considering being in the kitchen with your Mom on any holiday was like asking to get yelled at. As you folded the last napkin neatly and placed it in its rightful spot you heard commotion coming from the front door, undoubtedly the Leclerc’s arriving. You spotted Pascale struggling to juggle all the presents and you hurried towards her, quick to offer a hand. “Merci chéri.” A grateful smile painted across her face.
The pile of presents grows as you place them under the tree and you’d think your family hadn’t already opened some this morning. Everyone settles into their usual spots in the living room, but your usual spot by Charles is left empty, as you’ve scurried into the kitchen. You’d rather face the unwarranted wrath from your Mom than be unable to compose yourself around Charles. But you don’t get to hide in the kitchen for very long because she’s practically done with everything, so you help her bring in all the food to the table, and admire your table setting skills as you do so. 
Dinner is pretty uneventful and luckily your Dad has Charles preoccupied with racing talk for most of the time. But you can’t help but catch his eye from across the table every once in a while and every time you do your heart skips a beat. By the time presents start getting passed around you had successfully avoided Charles for most of the day, but that is ruined when he plops down next to you on the floor, shoulders brushing as he gets situated. 
“Are you mad at me for yesterday?” Charles' voice is low, like he didn’t want anyone to hear, but he could have talked at full volume, no one would have heard him over how loud your Dads were being. 
You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why would I be mad at you?” 
“You’ve been avoiding me all day.” 
Your fingers toyed with the lifted corner of wrapping paper on the present in front of you, your brain trying to figure out what to say. Yes, you had been avoiding him, but it wasn’t because you were mad. It was actually the opposite, but you couldn’t tell him that. “I’m not mad at you. Just didn’t want there to be another flour fiasco today. You thought she was mad yesterday, now imagine that while she’s in her holiday cooking zone.” You give him a reassuring smile, hoping that he’s bought what you’ve told him. But he doesn’t get the chance to respond as your Mom’s voice fills the room. 
“Ok does everyone have all their presents? Our Santa this year was less than enthusiastic about handing out the presents.” Your Mom shoots Arthur a look as he sits down on the floor across from Charles and you. 
“There is nothing left under the tree. I promise.” Arthur states. 
“Alright then everyone get after it!” 
Piles of wrapping paper fill the empty spots on the floor in no time and excited gasps fill the room as everyone unwraps their gifts. You’re always so grateful for everything the Leclerc’s get you for Christmas, they treat you like one of their own, and sometimes you feel they spoil you a little too much. 
With each present that you unwrapped that wasn’t from Charles, you start to get a little worried. You guys exchanged presents every year and if he didn’t get you something this year, you think you might die. So when you come to your last present and it says it’s from his parents, you try to hide your disappointment, especially because it’s an amazing gift. You hop up from your spot on the floor and make sure to go thank them personally, hugs and all. And you’re pretty sure you hear them say something about how you’re their daughter too and how you deserve it, but your brain is still thinking about how Charles didn’t get you anything. 
When you go back to your spot a little perfectly wrapped box with a bow on it is sitting there. You know you weren’t sitting on that, so it had to be placed there after you got up. You think it’s one of Charles that he forgot about, but when you bend over to pick it up you see Charles sloppy handwriting on it. A smile spreads across your face as you look over at Charles who has an equally big one on his. You quickly sit down, eager to know what’s inside. 
“Did you think I didn’t get you anything?” Charles questions, a smirk toying at his lips. 
“Maybe.” Yes. 
“I would never.” He bumps his shoulder into yours, motioning for you to open it. “Well, go on. What are you waiting for?” 
You don’t want to seem like you're absolutely ripping into the present, but it probably looks like you are. It’s a tiny box, like one used for jewelry, and you really aren’t expecting Charles to have gotten you jewelry. But when you open the box, nestled in the velvet cushion, is a ring. You glance over at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then back to the ring. It’s just a simple sterling silver ring and somewhat on the smaller side. To be honest Charles could have gotten you a bag of candy and you would have been happy to have just gotten something from him, let alone a ring. 
But when you pick the ring up from the box you see exactly why it’s smaller, and it makes your heart swell. On the inside of the ring you see the words pinky promise engraved into it and as you look over at Charles, he’s holding out his pinky finger, a matching ring adorning it. Your cheeks are hurting from how hard you're smiling, but you don’t care. It’s the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever gotten you and as you slide it onto your pinky finger you feel yourself smiling even more, if that’s possible. Your arms are around Charles instantly, pulling him in towards you, thank you’s tumbling out of your mouth as he giggles in response. 
“I’m glad you like it.” He pauses, trying to figure out the right words to say. “Things are changing. I’m moving up from karting and hopefully into Formula 3 within the next year. It’s just a reminder that we’ve always got each other, even if I’m gone racing or you’re off doing something, we can look at the rings and know we’ve got a piece of each other with us, always.” 
You can’t stop smiling at him, and that crush you’ve got has tripled in size in a few short hours. Your teenage brain over exaggerates everything and you basically think this means you’re gonna be together forever, even though you aren’t even together. 
While you’re in make believe land, your parents are observing the two of you. Whispers and knowing glances are exchanged, between them and your Moms can’t help but think it’s cute how close the two of you are. While your Dad in particular, no matter how he feels about Charles, thinks no boy is good enough for his little girl, let alone some sixteen year old boy. 
Perhaps you may be a little dramatic when you say that this Christmas was the best one you’d had so far, but honestly it was the truth. Sure you realized you had a huge crush on Charles that will probably end in tears, but you also got the most thoughtful gift ever, that you will cherish forever. So yeah, this was a good Christmas, crush aside. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
And so you lived with admiring Charles from afar for months. Enjoying what time you got together and just holding out hope that maybe one day he wouldn’t see you as his little sister. But life had a funny way of hitting you in the face with reality, especially at thirteen. 
When Charles shows up to a joint family dinner one night with a girl around his arm you feel like all the air has escaped your lungs. And when he introduces her to everyone as his girlfriend you plaster on a smile even though you feel like someone has pulled your heart out of your chest and ran it over multiple times.
It’s the longest dinner of your life and while everyone gushes over his girlfriend, asking her all about her life and interests, you poke your food around with your fork. It’s not like you have an appetite anyways, getting your heart broken will do that to you. And it sucks even more because she’s so nice, like insanely nice, you couldn’t even hate her if you wanted to. Not to mention how pretty she was, she was everything, and you were some pimple faced, awkward bodied thirteen year old. 
You fidget with the ring on your finger and your heart races at the idea of Charles not wearing his anymore, your eyes glance over at him and when you spot the ring still on his finger it calms you a little. But that still means nothing, just that he clearly still sees you as a little sister. What you don’t see is how your Mom has been watching you the whole night. You’ve never told her about your feelings towards Charles, but she’s your Mom, she just knows things. And she knows you're hurting right now, so when she changes the topic of conversation at the table you’re eternally grateful. 
It’s an early night for you that night, not bothering to join everyone for a game of UNO, claiming that you aren’t feeling well. When really you couldn’t wait to go upstairs and just cry it out. What did you do to deserve something like this? It hurt so bad, but you knew there was nothing you could do about it. And as you laid in bed that night all you could think about was how are you going to live without him liking you back?
sixteen and nineteen
Newsflash you do live without Charles liking you back. In fact your crush goes away by the end of that year, no thanks to the new boy in your grade, who eventually ends up being your boyfriend. But it was safe to say you were over Charles, at least you think you are. 
Charles, on the other hand, stayed with the girl who made you go crazy at age thirteen for over a year, but they broke up over text. And to your disappointment, Charles never told you the reason why. Ever since then it’s been somewhat of a revolving door of girls in Charles' life. Okay – maybe not a revolving door, but at least three different girls in the past two years. None of them lasted for more than a couple months though, and it was getting to the point where no one in either of your families got to know the girls.
Everyone knew that they would be gone sooner than later. After his last “breakup” a couple months ago, he hadn’t brought around a new one, he claimed that he needed to focus on racing, that F1 seat was almost in his grasp and that was all that mattered to him right now, but you knew there was something else going on. 
While Charles was having issues in the relationship department, you were actually flourishing. You had met your now boyfriend Lucas, when he was the new kid your eighth grade year. You thought he was cute from the moment he walked into your History class the first day back from winter break. And when the seat next to you was the only open desk you tried to hide your excitement as he sat down, but when he smiled at you first, it was hard to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks. He was the first to speak, asking if you had a pencil. But his accent made your ears perk up – he was Spanish. The big brown doe eyes and dark hair fit him, now that you realized he was Spanish. 
“Do all Spaniards come unprepared on their first day?” You teased as you handed him a pencil. It was his turn to be the one blushing as he stifled a smile. 
“No, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.” 
So he was a flirt – noted. 
The two of you became good friends rather quickly, but per your parents rules, you couldn’t date until you were fifteen. So, you played the long game and prayed that no one else peaked his interest. Luckily for you, he was so infatuated with you that he was willing to wait, and on your fifteenth birthday you went on your first date. He was nothing shy of a gentleman, even going as far as asking your parents permission to take you out, something your Dad was very fond of. And as your parents watched their little girl walk out the door hand in hand with a boy, they couldn’t help but feel a little sad. 
“Our little girl is growing up.” 
Your Mom wrapped a comforting arm around your Dad. “I know. I’m glad though, I figured she would waste her teenage years waiting on Charles.” 
A questioning look washed across your Dad’s face. “What?” 
“Oh honey. Don’t act like you’ve been blind these past ten years. They’ve always been drawn to each other, her more than him. She was absolutely heartbroken when he brought his first girlfriend to dinner that one time.” 
“Guess I do remember being less than thrilled at Charles getting her that ring for Christmas that one year.” Your Dad huffed. 
“Hmm,” she rests her head on his shoulder, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his abdomen as they still stand there, staring at the door. “You know Pascale has always said that Y/N would end up with Charles.” 
Your Dad scoffs at your Mom’s words. “And what do you think of that?” 
“I think only time will tell.” 
While your parents were discussing your love life back at home, you were having a grand time on your date. The pizza place Lucas had taken you to was cute, a fitting place for two fifteen year olds to be on a first date. Thankfully it wasn’t awkward or tense, and you had to thank the two of you for being friends for a year before your date for that. It was just like the two of you hanging out. 
On the walk back to your house your hands never separate, even when they start to become sweaty. And when he pulls you closer to him, so you're basically hugging his arm, you realize you could get used to this.The way his brown eyes look like pools of honey when the sun hits them just right as he looks down at you, the feeling of his thumb gently rubbing circles on your hand, and the way your name rolls of his tongue when he talks to you, especially with that accent of his. All of it has that all too familiar warm fuzzy feeling appearing in your stomach. 
When he stops in front of the ice cream shop near your house he doesn’t even have to ask you if you want any, you’re already dragging him towards the entrance. The little bell on the door rings as the two of you walk inside and the all too familiar sugary sweet smell hits your nostrils. 
“Ah! Chérie!” 
The owner Mr. Martin – a short older man, probably in his sixties, with what you would call haystacks for eyebrows was beaming at you from behind the counter. He had grown fond of you and the Leclerc boys over the years, claiming that he loved seeing the three of you grow up, as he never had any grandchildren of his own. Though, when his eyes shifted to the right and saw Lucas standing next to you his smile fell briefly, if you hadn’t been staring at him you wouldn’t have caught it. 
“Who is this handsome young man?” He asks as the two of you walk towards him.. 
You introduce Lucas to Mr. Martin and it’s at that moment that you realize that this is the first time you’ve brought him here. Something that didn’t seem possible to you because you were here so often that you had to have brought Lucas here at least once, but you can’t recall a time. 
Only when a vanilla cone is in front of your face are you brought out of your thoughts. Of course Mr. Martin didn’t need to ask you what you wanted, it’s been the same thing every time for the past ten years. Lucas had already sat down at one of the little tables, chocolate cone in hand, while he waited for you. 
“I was surprised to see you with a boy other than Charles.” Mr. Martin states as he wipes down the counter. “He must be special because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here with anyone other than your family or Charles.” 
His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Yes, this was your first time you had brought Lucas here, but you know you’ve brought other friends here. There was no way in your ten years here that you hadn’t, but once again your mind was drawing a blank. As you glance back over at Lucas a knot forms in your stomach, it suddenly feels wrong to have brought him here. Like in some way you were tainting this place with his presence. Ruining whatever special hold this place has on your relationship with your family– with Charles. 
You completely ignore Mr. Martin’s statements and just give him a smile and thanks before making up an excuse as to why Lucas and you need to leave. He doesn’t take much convincing when you claim to want to see the sunset. His hand is back in yours as you hear the bell ring once more as the two of you leave. And it’s like as soon as you guys are back on the sidewalk walking towards your house, the gut wrenching feeling is gone. The only evidence of it is left in the ice cream and by the time you’re standing on your front porch step it’s all gone. 
Lucas has a lopsided grin on his face, one you’ve grown to love, as the two of you stand facing each other. “You know we are missing the sunset you wanted to see.” His fingers lightly toy with yours, before finally intertwining them again.
“Mmh. It’s okay.” You were getting lost in those big brown eyes of his, the sunset the last thing on your mind. 
“I’d rather stare at you anyways, you’re much prettier.” 
His words make you practically putty in his hands and before you know it you’re having your first kiss. It’s sweet, metaphorically and literally, the taste of ice cream still on both of your lips. His hand cups your cheek and you have to wonder if he’s done this before. But when he pulls away he only has you craving more, so you lean up and steal on more from him. Giggles escaping past your lips as you see the light blush on his cheeks, you were sure yours were bright red. “Guess this is where I ask you to be my girlfriend huh? Not like I’ve been obsessed with you since my first day of school, been waiting all year or anything.” 
You raise an eyebrow at him with a smirk on your face. “Are you going to properly ask me?” 
By the end of the night when you’re laying in bed, you had officially gone on your first date, had your first kiss, and obtained a boyfriend all in a matter of hours that day. You were a giddy mess, excitement coursed through your veins, and you couldn’t help but repeatedly feel your lips, the feeling of Lucas’ still fresh in your mind the whole night. You couldn’t wait to feel them on yours again. And when he texts you that he wants to hang out tomorrow you think your heart just might leap out of your chest. 
Being with Lucas was like living on cloud nine, you truly couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. As the year progressed you really wondered how you had snagged someone like him– tall, dark, and handsome. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, and he made you feel like it too, until he didn’t.
That’s the funny thing about first loves, you really think nothing could ever come between you, that it’s going to last forever. But the only thing that lasts forever is the damage they leave when they’re gone. 
You aren’t really sure what switched in Lucas, but after a year of being together he turned into someone who was never happy with what you did, always picking fights over stupid little things. And you know you should have left him already, but you love him, and you think you guys can make it work. You’re only sixteen and your Mom tells you relationships shouldn’t be like this at this age, shouldn’t be mentally draining, but unfortunately this one is. 
All your arguments as of lately had been about Charles. Lucas, though denying it every time you brought it up, had become jealous of him. You weren’t even sure where the jealousy had come from, you barely saw Charles like you used to. He was in F2 on the cusp of getting that F1 seat and you were busy with school and spending time with Lucas. You had even gone as far as rejecting invites to hang out with your other friends to spend time with Lucas, something now you regret very deeply. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
It’s a chilly Friday night in February when everything comes crashing down. The argument started over Charles texting you asking if you wanted to hang out. You were already with Lucas, but you hadn’t seen Charles in a couple weeks and you knew once the season started seeing him would be even more scarce. So, you make the big mistake of asking Lucas if he wanted to hang out with Charles. 
“Why would I want to hang out with him?” His back was turned to you, but you already knew from his tone that this was going to turn into an argument. 
“Well I haven’t seen him in awhile and he texted me asking to hang out, I thought we all could hang out.” You thought maybe by including Lucas in the plans that it would make the situation better. Wrong. 
He turns to face you, walking towards your bed where you’re currently sat. “Did he mention me in the text?” 
“Well no but-” 
“Exactly,” Lucas scoffs at you, his expression sour as he looms over you. “He doesn’t want me to come. I would get in his way.” 
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, Charles was not the guy Lucas made him out to be. “Don’t know what you mean by you getting in his way.” 
“Oh don’t act cute about it Y/N.” Hearing your name roll off his tongue no longer sounded like music to your ears, it now more resembled nails on a chalkboard, like each time he spoke your name it was venom coming out his mouth. “Bet if I gave him the chance he’d try to get in your pants at the first opportunity.” 
Your eyes widened, cheeks getting hot at his accusations. “What kind of girl do you think I am Lucas?” 
“All I’m saying is your friendship with him isn’t normal, and it makes a guy wonder.” 
You were up off of your bed now, the two of you standing in the middle of your room. “This is getting old. I’ve told you, you have nothing to be jealous of.” You had started to twist the ring on your pinky finger, a nervous habit you had developed over the past couple years. 
“That is why your friendship isn’t normal.” Lucas grabs your hand, his fingers twisting at the ring trying to pull it off your finger. “What kind of girl wears a ring another guy got her while in a relationship? Huh? Even worse that you’ve got matching ones.”
Yanking your hand free from his grasp you can feel your blood starting to boil, and you’re thankful your parents aren’t home tonight because you can tell this is going to get ugly. “We fucking grew up together! He’s like a brother Lucas!” You were the first one to yell and you had unfortunately opened the floodgates because now Lucas is yelling.
“Who hasn’t heard that before?! He’s like a brother. Give me a fucking break. You’re telling me you’ve never had feelings for him? Not once in your life?”  
The accusations and ideas he was throwing around tonight were beyond ridiculous. 
“I’m not thirteen anymore Lucas. You know I only love you.” And you don’t realize what you’ve basically admitted until it leaves your mouth and you hear Lucas let out a dry laugh. 
“Ah. There it is. I think that last part may have been a lie, because you still wouldn’t be wearing that ring if you didn’t still feel something for him.” 
You shake your head at him, why couldn’t he get what you were saying though his thick skull. “I only have platonic love for Charles. It’s nothing like what you and I have.” 
He clicks his tongue, and you can hear the gears turning in his head. “Prove it.” You furrow your eyebrows at him, confused as to how you are supposed to prove that you love only him. “Take the ring off and give it back to Charles.” 
You tuck your hands behind your back, afraid he’ll try and rip it off your finger again. “No. It’s just a ring Lucas. You’re giving it more power than it has.” 
“If it’s just a ring then take it off.” You shake your head no at him. “Take it off Y/N.” You shake your head no again and he stalks towards you, causing you to back up until the backs of your knees hit your bed. “Take off the fucking ring!” He’s yelling and you can feel the tears starting to pool in your eyes. He’s never gotten this crazy before and you can tell that this is the end of the two of you. 
“Lucas just go.” You're trying to hold back your tears, but when he tries to reach around to grab your hand you let out a sob. “Lucas, leave! Now!” 
He backs up, and for the first time that night you get a good look at his eyes. They are no longer the pools of honey you once found yourself getting lost in, their dark, like a black void, and he almost looks unrecognizable as he stands there. “You never truly loved me did you?.” 
His words cut through you, because you really did love him, and you thought he loved you. But someone who loves you would never treat you like he has you. “I loved you more than you’ll ever know, but clearly you’ve got some shit mixed up in your head to think that I didn’t.” 
“But you are always going to love Charles more Y/N. You can tell yourself it’s only platonic love, but we both know it’s not.” 
You wipe away your tears as you sit back down on the side of your bed, this was getting old. “I can’t do this anymore. Truly. I’ve tried to tell you how much you mean to me, but Charles is a part of my life and if you can’t deal with that,” You take a deep breath, scared for what's about to come out of your mouth. “Then maybe we should break up.” 
And for the first time that night Lucas doesn’t respond and you’re actually surprised that he doesn’t put up a fight. “Alright then I guess we are done.” When he doesn’t immediately leave and decides to squat down in front of you, you're confused. Especially when he wipes away your tears as his hand cups your cheek. “I never wanted us to end up like this, but I can’t share your heart with someone else.” 
He should be screaming and instigating more arguing, not being gentle and loving. More tears fall down your cheeks as he presses a final kiss on your forehead before walking out your bedroom door. You can hear your parents greet him downstairs, what great timing for them to arrive home, and when the front door slams you’re surprised your Dad isn’t going after him. 
You’re immediately calling Charles and you don’t even have to speak, your sniffles and ragged breathing lets him know that you need him. As you hang up the phone you hear a gentle knock on your door and you see your Mom peek her head in, her heart breaking when she sees the state you’re in. “Oh my sweet girl.” 
“It’s over Mom.” You choke out between sobs. 
She does the only thing that she knows you need right now and just holds you, lets you get it all out as she runs her fingers through your hair. 
But seconds later you’re both greeted with an out of breath Charles standing in the middle of your room. Your tears subside for a moment, as you see him doubled over trying to catch his breath.
“Alright, I’m gonna leave you two be.” Your Mom gives you a reassuring kiss on the head before exiting your bedroom. 
Charles takes her spot next to you on your bed, his arm immediately pulling you into him. “Did you run here?” You ask as you rest your head on his shoulder. 
“Did you expect anything less when you called me crying?” He’s deadly serious when he says it, and you don’t know it, but he’d drop everything to come to your aid, no matter if you asked or not. You don’t answer him, but when you wrap your arms around his waist and basically tuck yourself into his side, he knows you appreciate him being here. “Am I wrong for thinking this has something to do with Lucas?” 
The tears start to fall again as the fight replays in your head. “We broke up.” Your words barely above a whisper, but Charles has no trouble hearing them, even over your sniffles. 
“Never liked that asshole anyways.” 
You rolled your eyes at Charles' statement, lightly laughing because he was totally lying. “Don’t lie, you liked him, hell everyone liked him.” 
“Ever thought I am just a very good actor? He made you happy, so I just pretended to like him, for your sake.” 
“Wish you would have made your dislike of him known, maybe I wouldn’t be a hot mess on a Friday night right now.” A sigh escapes past your lips, the feeling of Charles gently rubbing circles on your side had started to soothe you. And you wished you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his embrace. 
Charles doesn’t mean to pry, he knows you’ll tell him when you're ready, but he’s curious as to why the two of you had broken up, as far as he was concerned the two of you seemed happier than ever. But he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t happy about the two of you breaking up, for reasons unknown to him yet. 
“You gonna tell me what happened?” 
Your grip on him tightens and he thinks if he let you, you’d be under his skin if it was possible. “He was jealous of you.” 
Charles feels his heartbeat quicken and he’s not sure why, but he does know he wants to hear the whole story. “And?” 
You know you’re going to start crying again, but it's Charles, you can tell him anything. So you take a deep breath and spill the beans. “It started a couple months ago. He’d pick fights over stupid stuff at first and then it turned into stuff concerning you. I tried to just let it go and make sure he knew he was my number one priority. But tonight’s fight was the worst one yet and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. He was basically insulating that I loved you more than him and I tried to tell him it was only platonic love that I had for you, but he wasn’t convinced.” 
There’s a strange feeling that blooms in Charles' chest as your words hit his ears and it clouds his mind because he’s never had a feeling like this when he’s been around you. It’s foreign and it scares the shit out of him.
You hold back some information from Charles, mainly because you were still processing how you really feel about him. Trying to sort through what Lucas had planted into your brain and what might have already been there, left over from thirteen year old you. But your ring clad finger searches for his and when you feel the cool contrast of his ring, you wrap your pinky fingers together. “Do you think our friendship is normal Charlie?” 
He cocks an eyebrow at you, confused as to what you meant. “Where’s this coming from?” 
Your eyes never break away from your intertwined fingers, matching rings staring back at you. “Lucas said our friendship isn’t normal and basically the fact that we have matching rings isn’t normal either.” 
Now Charles' gaze is also on your rings and for a moment he thinks maybe it isn’t normal, but then he realizes this is your guys normal. So fuck what anyone else or Lucas thought about his friendship with you. “Think he might have been just pulling shit out of his ass at that point. Jealous that he doesn’t have anyone in his life like we do each other.” 
Charles' words do make you feel a little better, because you know no matter what you’ll always have each other and tonight is proof of that, but that doesn’t stop your still broken heart from showing.
“Still kind of made me feel like shit though, like he made it seem like I didn’t love him at all, when I clearly did. I mean god Charles he was my first date, first kiss, first everything. Even with how badly he had treated me these last couple months, we’re always gonna have that connection. How am I supposed to find someone like that again? Fuck. I mean he literally has a part of me that I’ll never get back.” 
And Charles can feel his heart tightening at your words, because you’re truly the most amazing girl he knows, and to know that Lucas treated you badly when all you deserve is the best awakens something in him. 
“I wish you could see how you look to me, how amazing you are. Yes, you have those connections with Lucas, but believe me when I say you aren’t going to have a problem finding someone else.” 
A small smile finds its way onto your face as you hear Charles speak. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” 
“I wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You’re funny, kind, the best listener, and you’re so beautiful. Truly Y/N, anyone would be lucky to have you. And Lucas is clearly stupid for letting you go.” 
The blush on your cheeks probably looked like a bad sunburn with how much you were blushing and as you made eye contact with Charles you suddenly felt like that thirteen year old girl again. His blue eyes burning into yours and when he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear you can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach. And for a brief moment Charles had pushed your thoughts about Lucas to the back of your mind. 
He pulls you into a hug and if there is one place you feel the safest in the world, it’s in Charles arms. And when he whispers into your ear that everything is gonna be fine, you know it’s going to be, as long as you’ve got Charles in your life. 
seventeen and twenty 
He had done it. 
Charles had finally gotten into Formula 1. The thing he had only dreamt of since childhood had finally come true. The long weekends away from home, the training, the tiredness, the stress, it was all worth it in the end. That seat was finally his and you couldn’t have been more proud. He had been in talks with a couple of the teams for a while and he always kept you updated on the possibilities, some weeks it sounded like he would sign with one team, and then the next another. The whole situation was beyond stressful to you, so you could only imagine how Charles felt about it all. 
The day you found out that he signed with Suaber was one you’ll never forget.
Charles had tried to plan some elaborate thing to announce the big news to you, but that meant he would have to keep it a secret from you for at least a day or two. Something he found to be rather difficult once he got home, because the only thing he wanted to do was tell you. 
It didn’t matter to him that it was almost midnight by the time he had gotten home from the airport, he was going to tell you tonight no matter what. He pulled his phone out of his pocket– thumbs moving rapidly as he texted you. 
After dozing off multiple times in the last half hour you had decided to call it quits on your binge session of The Office for the night. You had switched the TV to something random to actually fall asleep to and it didn’t take long for you to be on the cusp of actual sleep until– 
DING
A groan escaped past your lips and you contemplated ignoring it, but when the second alert went off you snatched your phone off the nightstand. It felt like you were staring directly into the sun as your eyes struggled to read the text notification. 
Charlie: come out back 
Your eyes glanced at the time – 12:15. What the hell could he possibly want this late? But you begrudgingly got out of bed, slipping on some shoes and a sweatshirt before quietly going downstairs. 
The light on the back patio illuminated the backyard just enough for you to see Charles sitting on the swings waiting for you. And If you were even thinking about sneaking up on Charles that would have been impossible with the sliding door to the backyard. The thing screeched like nails on a chalkboard even with you opening it just enough to slide through it. His gaze now locked onto you as you scurried off the porch and towards the swings. 
The smile that he greeted you with was one beyond measure. He was clearly happy about something and you could tell just by the crinkles around his eyes and those dimples that right now looked to be deeper than canyons. 
“What’s got you so happy, Leclerc?” 
Your eyes focused on Charles' frame as he swayed back and forth slowly on the swing. He was clearly too big for it – his legs were bent awkwardly and his swing creaked everytime he moved. You could feel the sides of the swing digging into your hips and you realized you probably looked as ridiculous as him. 
“Just happy to see you. Missed you.” His smile still ever prominent. 
You scoffed at his words, he had just seen you a couple days ago. “Yeah right. You wouldn’t have texted me at midnight if there wasn’t something going on. In fact, how did you know I was up or even home? It’s a Friday night you know.” 
“Because I know you Y/N. Your Friday nights are usually spent at home watching some show until you can’t stay up any longer.” 
A grimace finds its way onto your face, what an amazing life you live. “Okay when you say it outloud it makes me sound like a loser.” 
His eyes had softened as the two of you made eye contact. “Nothing wrong with how you spend your Friday nights.” 
You wanted to get off the topic of your nonexistent social life and onto the pressing matter at hand tonight – what had Charles so giddy? “So are you gonna tell me what is actually going on or what?” 
He took a deep breath, he couldn’t believe he was finally getting to say these words out loud. “I’ve got a Formula 1 seat next year.” 
A blank expression is all that is staring back at Charles and he’s worried that you’re somehow mad or upset, but that’s far from the truth. You aren’t sure if you’ve heard him right, because you think you heard him say he’s going to be racing in Formula 1 next year, but your brain has seemed to have short circuited– your heart beating a mile a minute. 
You’re able to get out, “Sorry – what?!” and when you hear those words come from him once again you’re practically leaping out of the swing and into his arms. The fact that it’s nighttime and people are sleeping is the last thing on your mind as you're shouting excited nonsense at him. 
His laughter filled your ears as he stood up from the swing with you still wrapped up in his arms. You just couldn’t believe it, something he had worked so hard for, dreamt about since childhood, had finally come true. If anyone was deserving of it – it was him. 
“Putain de merde Charles! When did you sign and with who?” You asked once you had finally peeled yourself away from him and were able to form a coherent sentence. 
“Sauber – I just signed yesterday. I know it’s not Ferrari like we had hoped-” 
Your jaw dropped and you lightly smacked his arm. “Ferrari will always be there, I promise. And maybe after they see how good you do this upcoming season they’ll regret not signing you. But what I’m really wondering is why you told me you were going to do testing for one of the teams instead of telling me you were going to sign with them!” 
He put his hands up in defense, but the cheesy grin on his face still remained. “I wanted to surprise you! But then as soon as I signed that contract all I wanted to do was tell you. I literally just got home from the airport when I texted you!” 
The fact that Charles wanted you to be the first person he told had you melting and the butterflies in your stomach had you thinking about those unresolved feelings you had towards him. But you pushed it aside because tonight was not the night for that to be lingering in your mind. 
You reached down to his hand and linked your pinky fingers together. The gesture no longer just meant for a promise, but also one of comfort and reassurance. “I do hope you know though how immensely proud I am of you. How proud your Papa would be of you. I knew from that first time you ever mentioned something about becoming a F1 driver when we were kids that you would accomplish it and now look at you.” 
Charles' eyes soften at your words and when he looks into your eyes he feels that funny foreign feeling. The one that blooms in his chest and travels down to his stomach, the same feeling from last year when he held you after Lucas broke your heart. The feeling he chooses to ignore as he pulls you back into his arms, hugging you tightly, like someone might take you from him. He knows his life wouldn’t be the same without you and that he owes some of this success to you– for constantly believing in him even when he didn’t, for dreaming with him, and for being the light on even his darkest days. 
“And I hope you know that I wouldn’t have made it without you. You’ve been my biggest supporter since we were kids, always believing in me, pushing me, coming to support me when you could, and I can’t imagine you not being at my first race.” 
“Oh do you not remember what I said when we were younger? Think I said I’d have a permanent paddock pass, so you bet your ass I’m gonna be there.” 
A small laugh escapes past his lips and his dimples are back out in full force for what seems like the millionth time tonight. “Truly Y/N. Merci, I couldn’t have done it without you. Je t'aime.” 
“Je t'aime aussi Charlie.” 
His pinky finger finds yours once again and when he curls his finger around yours a wave of deja vu washes over you. And that’s when you remembered the last time the two were out here together. You were still kids, but you had made him promise not to forget you once he got into Formula 1. 
Now here the two of you stood, high on the exciting news of him achieving that goal. You can’t help that pit that starts to form in your stomach as you think of what you feared at age ten coming true. You try to hide it, not wanting to dampen the mood, and you know all you can do is pray that he keeps his promise. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
That following March you make the trip to Australia with the Leclerc’s and your family and it’s everything you could have ever dreamed of. Sure you had attended the Monaco Grand Prix every year, and some of Charles F2 races, but you had never been really in the thick of it like this. Maybe it was because it was Charles' first ever F1 race, but the feeling in the air was indescribable. The roar of the engines, the cheers from the crowd, it was something you could get used to experiencing. 
It’s surreal to see him in the car, see him flying around the circuit like it’s nothing, because all you can imagine is eight year old Charles saying he wants to be an F1 driver when he grows up in that car. He ends up placing P13 and for his first ever F1 race you couldn't have been more proud. And you aren’t afraid to admit that you shed a few tears, honestly you think everyone shed a few tears seeing him finally accomplish that lifetime dream of his. 
When you see him after the race he’s beaming like he’d won the thing and you could only imagine what he will be like when he actually wins his first race. You can practically feel the adrenaline radiating off of him when he wraps you up in his embrace. 
“You did so good Charles. You did it, you made it.” Your words slightly mumbled against his shoulder, but he hears you just fine. 
“I’m glad you were able to come. Wouldn’t have been as special if you didn’t.” You don’t think he’s wiped that smile off his face ever since he got out of the car and it only intensified as he spoke to you. 
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” And it’s true because there’s no other place you’d want to be right now. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The next time you see him is for the Monaco Grand Prix and he’s nearly shitting himself the whole week before. You would have thought this was his first ever time in a F1 car with how nervous he was. He knows these streets like the back of his hand, knows this circuit like the back of his hand, but he still spends an unnecessary amount of time on the sim, trying to perfect every little thing. 
With what little amount of time you see him between practice sessions and qualifying before the actual race you try and reassure him, let him know that he’s still an amazing person and driver no matter the outcome on Sunday. And it seems to have worked because by Sunday his spirits seem to be much higher and he’s got a good feeling about the race, hoping to score some points, and maybe win his home race. 
But when his brakes fail and he ends up crashing into the back of another car resulting in a DNF you’re heartbroken, but you know he’s even more upset. You know he’s going to be so hard on himself and overanalyze the whole situation, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to try and make things a little better. 
When you find him he’s pacing back and forth in what little space he has in his drivers room. Helmet still strapped onto his head and his race suit still done up. You spot one of his gloves on the physio table and the other on the ground — evidence that he had thrown them. He’s so in his head that he doesn’t even see you standing in the doorway as he paces. 
“Charlie.” Your voice is soft and you hope by using his nickname that it may calm him a little. 
His movements stop when he hears your voice and when he finally sees you standing there in the doorway all he wants to do is crawl into a hole and die. What an embarrassment to have his first DNF at his first home race. It’s like the gods wanted to punish him for reasons unbestowed to him. 
Your reflection stares back at you through his visor as you approach him, his shoulders relaxing slightly as your hands find their home on them. You finally work up the courage to flip up his visor so you can actually look at him and when you see red puffy eyes staring back at you your heart breaks a little more. 
“Let’s get this helmet off, yeah?” 
With a small nod given from him as permission you reach your hands up to undo the strap. You’re trying to be delicate with your actions, but when it comes to taking off his helmet there really isn’t a way to be nice about it. And Charles knows because he’s got his hands over yours, aiding you in taking it off. 
You couldn’t help but stare at him as he practically tore off his balaclava and threw it haphazardly somewhere in the room. As silly as it seemed, the indentions that it left behind on his face somehow made him more attractive. Combine that with his hair being a tousled mess and his skin glistening from the sweat (and tears) and post race Charles may be your favorite Charles. You watched even more intently as he unzipped his race suit, letting the upper half fall at his hips, exposing the tight fireproofs that you loved more than you should. 
Those unresolved feelings that you’ve tried to shove deep down for years had seemed to be crawling their way back up recently. But for today you pushed them back down because you were here to comfort Charles, not ogle at him, no matter how good he looked at the moment. 
He sat down on his physio table with a defeated sigh, hand running through his already messy hair. “I’ve let everyone down – the team, my family, myself, you. Maybe if I wouldn’t have braked too hard at turn seven or didn’t push as hard in the tunnel-” 
You moved to stand in between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders. He was on the edge of spiraling and you knew if you didn’t take him back from that ledge he’d be in his head about it for weeks. 
“Charles. There was nothing that you could have done differently, it was an issue with the car. Which means it had nothing to do with you as a person, as a driver, or your talent.” Your hand subconsciously searches for his, and like it’s muscle memory your pinkies link seconds later. “I promise.” 
“A ‘once in a generation driver’ would have avoided crashing.” 
Ugh. The phrases that the media used to describe Charles were – yes very flattering, but they came at a price. He took them personally and the idea of being anything less than what they claimed him to be took a serious mental toll on him. 
“You had no brakes Charles. What were you supposed to do? Bust your feet through the floor and Fred Flintstone it?” You could see the corners of his mouth turn up slightly at your comment and you knew he was backing away from the edge. His hands find their way around your waist and he’s pulling you into him, your head finding a home on his shoulder. 
“I’m still immensely proud of you. Hell, you could finish dead last in every race and I’d still be your number one fan.” This time there is an actual smile that washes across Charles face, but you don’t get to see it, your head is still resting on his shoulder. “ And I know it’s easier said than done, but please try not to be so hard on yourself, especially when it comes to things out of your control.” 
“What would I do without you?” It’s a serious question that Charles asks himself often. You’ve been each other's rocks for twelve years now. Through the amazing times and the horrible times. No one knows either of you like you do each other. 
You’ve pulled away from his embrace now, your eyes staring back at his. “Hmmm. I don’t know. You’d probably be absolutely miserable without me.” 
And when you finally see that pretty smile of his, dimples and all, you know you’ve accomplished your mission. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Although after Monaco– things changed. 
The first thing and probably the most inevitable was Charles moving out. Honestly, you were surprised he hadn’t done it sooner, but in between the Monaco GP and Canadian GP he moved into his own place. Which in theory wasn’t a big deal, but that meant he wasn’t just right down the street from you anymore. He had gotten an apartment further into the city, which in Monaco that’s not that far, but you knew it would make a difference. 
The days of popping into his house and expecting him to be there were long gone. The whole thing really shouldn’t have been such a big deal to you, but you couldn’t help but think that him moving out was only going to aid in your worries of him forgetting about you to come true. 
After Monaco your communication with Charles started to slowly lessen.Texts that once were answered in minutes now went hours without an answer or sometimes no response at all. You blamed it on his busy schedule, trying not to think too much about it. But much to your dismay, your worries do come true. 
It’s inevitable to you that you are drifting apart when you realize it’s been three months since you’ve seen him, almost a month since you’ve talked to him. And when you see him make it official with some girl you hadn’t even heard mention of after the British GP you feel like it’s just another nail in the coffin. 
You don’t even make the effort to reach out anymore, in fact you make sure not to after seeing that he’s got a new girlfriend. You’d just be wasting your time and energy. And it may seem like you're giving up on keeping Charles in your life, but really what else could you do? It truly hurts like hell to see the person you care about the most not seem to care about you, but you can’t force someone to talk to you or see you. 
He’s living his dream, traveling the world, partying, surrounded by stunning women. You’re still in school, still only seventeen, and not sure what you want your life to look like. It was inevitable really, for the two of you to drift apart, but that little part of you that ten year old you still holds on to, hopes that Charles remembers that promise he made and eventually comes to his senses. Because you know and you know he knows that you two are always going to have that special bond, the ring on your finger a constant reminder of it. And you wonder if he still wears his, but you don’t hold on to much hope that he does. 
Even though Charles and you aren’t exactly the closest at the moment you do want to try and attend another race before you start your final year of school and are forced to give that all of your attention. So when Arthur texts you asking if you want to go to Monza with Pascale and him you don’t pass up the opportunity.
Arthur filled you in on stuff regarding Charles during the flight, not that you asked, but he knew the two of you hadn’t really been talking. And you don’t mean to ask about his girlfriend, but you do, and you can see Arthur tip-toeing around his words. “She’s… nice. I’ve only met her once so I really couldn’t tell you much. You haven’t met her yet though, right?” 
You shook your head at him. “I haven’t even seen Charles since the home race. So no, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her.” 
“Merde. I didn’t think it had been that long.” 
What Arthur doesn’t tell you is that Charles doesn’t know their Mom and him are coming, not to mention you. You only figure it out when Arthur says something about making sure Charles doesn’t know to the Sauber team member who gives him three VIP passes. Arthur claims you guys are here to surprise Charles, give him a little pick me up after his last two races were DNF’s. 
The idea of seeing Charles again after so long already had your stomach in knots, but now knowing he doesn’t even know you’re coming makes it even worse. You were under the impression that he knew you were tagging along with Arthur. And everyone knows Charles is horrible at hiding his emotions, what if he sees you and can’t hide the fact that he doesn’t want you here? A million possibilities ran through your brain as Arthur dragged you towards the Sauber garage, while Pascale went to hospitality. 
Qualifying had just started and you were thankful for the extra time to mentally prepare yourself to see Charles again. With the way you were acting you would have thought you hadn’t seen him in years, but truthfully these three months had felt like years. 
The roar of engines were slightly muffled as you put on a headset, eyes focused on the monitor in front of you. Even with your nerves through the roof, it felt good to be back at a race. The atmosphere was intoxicating, you loved the hustle and bustle of it all, the adrenaline you got from just being here was crazy. 
You were so engrossed in watching Charles that you didn’t even notice someone come up behind Arthur and you until you felt him tap your shoulder. When you turn around the person standing there is the last person you expected to be seeing.  
Leah— Charles' girlfriend.  
Her lips are moving, but you aren’t hearing a word, and that’s when you realize you’ve still got your headset on. You quickly pull them down around your neck just in time to hear her say. “You must be Y/N?” You're shocked she knows who you are and from the look on your face she knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Charles has mentioned you before. It’s nice to finally meet you!” 
It’s sad to say that you had a hard time believing that Charles talked about you to her, but you put on a fake smile and accepted her invitation for a hug. “It’s nice to meet you too!” While Arthur and her spoke you tried to get a good read on her, but it was hard to tell if she was naturally this friendly or if it was all just an act. 
Time slipped away as the three of you chatted and you hadn’t realized Q1 was over and that Charles hadn’t made it into Q2 until you saw Leah’s eyes widened at something behind you. That something turned out to be someone and that someone turned out to be Charles. Leah’s practically hanging off of him while she’s trying to take a million photos and videos. And that’s when you know why Arthur tiptoed around his words about her earlier. Yes she was ‘nice’, but she was clearly using Charles for her own benefit. 
Charles on the other hand was oblivious to Leah shoving her phone in his face. His vision had zeroed in on you from the moment he entered the garage, even with your back turned to him he could spot you in a crowd of hundreds. When you finally turned around he felt like his feet had been cemented to the ground. His body felt hot, like a fever was running through his veins, and it wasn’t from being in the car moments ago. 
Arthur wasn’t supposed to be here and you weren’t either– especially talking to his girlfriend. It throws him for a loop and he can’t seem to get his brain and mouth to work together to even greet you, so he stands there while Leah makes sure everyone knows she’s dating a Formula 1 driver. 
The tight lipped smile you throw his direction doesn’t help how he’s feeling. You should be beaming at him, in his personal space (preferably in his arms), laughing at something dumb he said, anything other than how you were right now. And he knows it's no fault but his own, but it still hurts to see you stand there and act like you don’t like him, like you haven’t known each other for twelve years.
Charles could blame his absence in your life on his career, but that wasn’t the whole truth. 
He had seen your texts and truthfully sometimes he was so busy that he would forget to text you back. But those times when he could give you his full attention over text or the occasional facetime were times he never took for granted. He loved hearing your laughter, seeing your smile, or even just having you send him a text about your day. But with those things he loved so dearly came that funny feeling in his chest. 
The same feeling that he first felt last year when Lucas broke up with you, the night he told you he made it into F1, at his home race, and sprinkled in occasionally at other times. He had realized what it was not too long after the Monaco GP and at first he denied it, he thought there was no way it was possible. But then when that feeling would happen just from getting a text from you he knew he was fucked. He wasn’t even going to say the word out loud, not even think it, afraid of what might come if he even allowed the universe the satisfaction of him accepting what he was feeling. You were supposed to be his best friend and not someone he had feelings for. 
So what did he do to combat this insane revelation he had found out about himself? 
Distance himself. 
If he wasn’t in contact with you or seeing you, then surely this silly little thing, that he once again would not acknowledge by its government name, would go away. Plus his ever so busy career was the perfect excuse for him to use in case his Mother or you questioned him. 
And at first it wasn’t hard at all, he had gradually weaned himself off from facetiming you and then texting. And it wasn’t that bad because he had racing and training and media duties and parties– all the stuff that his life involved now to distract him. But then your texts became less and less and then on one off week he realized just how badly he missed having your stupid contact photo pop up on his phone and how he may have fucked everything up. 
But then he met Leah through another driver’s girlfriend and he had her to distract him even more. He knew what kind of person she was from the get go, but he was basically using her too, so if she wanted to make her whole instagram about him then so be it as long as his brain was free of that thing that must not be named about you. And Leah worked for awhile, she was relatively nice and it helped that she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. 
There was no real connection between them and sometimes Charles would rather watch paint dry than have a conversation with her. And most of the time he just let her sit there and talk while he scrolled on his phone, trying not to act like his heart didn’t skip a beat when a post of yours would pop up on Instagram. 
He wanted to contact you so badly, but what was he supposed to say? Hey, I've been so busy that I haven't even picked up my phone to text you hi. 
He knew he had caused some damage to your relationship when his Mom asked why he wasn’t coming home to see you anymore and that you weren’t yourself. He feels like shit about it, the idea of him making you upset is practically nightmare fuel for Charles and he doesn’t know why he thought distancing himself would make things better, they had just made things worse. Made him miss you even more without even realizing it. 
Clearly Charles had never heard the saying distance makes the heart grow fonder because if he had then maybe he wouldn’t have been stood there like a fool in the Sauber garage right now. Heart racing faster than the car he just got out of at the sight of you standing here in front of him for the first time in three months. 
What the hell was happening to him? What was this sudden effect you had on him? Had it always been there and he hadn’t realized it until now? He couldn’t think straight – it was clearly not a good idea to have tried to ignore these realizations (feelings) he had about you. A bad idea to not see you for months because now that you are here everything is rushing back up to the surface 10x worse than before. 
“Long time no see stranger.” Your voice brings him back to reality, but your closer proximity has him searching for an out. His head glancing in every direction for someone– his race engineer, one of the mechanics, Leah, anybody to distract him from you. 
When his search comes up short he resorts to making his stomach hurt even more by talking to you. 
“Yeah. How have you been?” God. Did he not even know how to talk to you anymore? Small talk with someone you know better than yourself had to be a torture method used by government agencies. 
“I’ve been good.” Lie, but he didn’t need to know that. “I see you’ve been living it up since I saw you last.” 
You were expecting a little awkwardness between the two of you, but the way Charles was acting was insane, it was like it was your first time meeting or something. He couldn’t maintain eye contact to save his life and honestly looked like he’d rather be someplace else at the moment. Your fear of him not wanting you here was clearly not a silly worry, it was reality. 
“Um yeah. Always busy doing something recently.” 
You’ve been fidgeting with the ring on your pinky finger the whole time and your movements catch Charles' gaze. His eyes immediately locking in on the silver ring still shining on your finger. He’s surprised after the way he’s treated you these past couple months that you still have it on, but yet here you stood in front of him with it on, a sign to Charles that he did not deserve you one bit. 
When he sees you realize that he’s staring at your ring and then sees your eyes shift to his naked finger his heart rate quickens once again. His stomach feels like it's about ready to drop out of his ass at the sight of hurt on your face that’s then quickly replaced by a blank stare. He can’t get his words out fast enough, he’s chewing on his words, mouth drier than the Sahara desert. 
“I-um-It’s in my-” 
“It’s fine Charles, really. We’re not little kids anymore. I shouldn’t be holding on to silly childhood promises.” It wasn’t fine, it was far from fine. You’re blinking back tears, your words referencing everything but the ring. But it’s a combination of everything that’s got you upset. The two of you drifting apart, the broken childhood promises, wanting to hate him right now but still being so proud to see him out there doing what he loves, and that damn ring. 
You felt stupid for still having it on, for thinking that he would still have his on. You needed to start being more realistic, but you were still only seventeen. An age that held so much fun and whimsy, you should be out having fun with your friends, not getting upset over a guy who clearly didn’t feel the same about you. The two of you were always going to be at two different times in your lives, it was never going to work out, but fuck there is always going to be apart of you that still holds onto him. He’s got his fingers dug so deep into you that you think you'll be old and gray and still wonder what could have been. 
Each word you spoke felt like a stab to Charles' heart. He wanted to tell you that he still wears his ring. That it’s sitting on its designated spot in his driver's room. But once again he can’t get his words out fast enough, his brain still hung up on your words for some reason. He’s hoping you would realize that the reason he doesn’t have it on was because he had just been in qualifying, but when he sees you slide your ring off and toss it in your bag those stabs to the heart intensify. He feels like he’s losing everything right in front of him, but he can’t seem to get his mind and body to work together to stop it. 
He feels an arm wrap around his and he knows it's Leah. Where was she moments ago when he was looking for an out? Maybe this situation could have been avoided and Charles wouldn’t feel like he had just lost the one person in his life who truly cared about him. 
“Good luck tomorrow Charles.” 
You don’t feel like sticking around any longer, especially if you have to look at Charles and Leah. You let Arthur know you're gonna go find Pascale, but you don’t leave without taking one last glance at Charles. 
It’s a long evening with Arthur’s prying questions about what's going on between his brother and you. All you can do is shrug your shoulders because really you don’t actually know what happened yourself, you assumed you drifted apart, but was there something else that happened that you didn’t know about? 
The next day you decide to watch the race from Sauber’s hospitality with Pascale, hoping to get away from Arthur’s never ending questions and Leah’s presence in general. Pascale luckily hadn’t pressed you on the Charles matter, but she’s practically your second Mother and she knows too that there’s something going on between Charles and you, she’s known from the beginning.
Charles ended up placing eleventh, which is miles better than his last two races, which were DNFs. Though you don’t even bother to go to the garage with Pascale, opting to stay in hospitality until it’s time to leave. It may have been petty of you, but you really weren’t in the mood to see Charles again and from his behavior yesterday he clearly doesn’t care that you're not there. 
But that was far from the truth. In fact Charles was praying that you would show up in the garage this morning, but when Arthur shows up solo he can’t hide the frown that forms on his face. The praying then moves onto seeing you post race, but that is quickly diminished when his Mother shows up without you in tow either. 
Your words from yesterday hung heavy in Charles' mind all last night. I shouldn’t be holding onto silly childhood promises bothered him more than it should have. And he wracked his brain trying to figure out what you could have been referencing. It wasn’t until he was almost asleep that he remembered a certain promise that the two of you made at ten and thirteen. Sleep was the last thing on his mind as he laid there wide awake staring at the ceiling recalling the memory in his mind.
He was such a fucking asshole. He’d done the one thing you promised him not to do. Granted he never really forgot about you, you were still clearly on his mind these past three months, but to you it really did seem like he had forgotten about you. Like he had gone off and became this famous race car driver that couldn’t be bothered to text his childhood best friend.
God he had fucked up, like truly fucked up, and all he wanted to do was explain himself (without revealing you know what), apologize, and try and get back to the way things used to be. That though, was proving to be easier said than done when you wouldn’t even come around. And by the time he’s done with his post race duties you’re back at the hotel ready to head back home. Charles doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance to redeem himself and you're left wondering why you even agreed to come in the first place. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
A week later you're at home sitting on your bed, face shoved into a math textbook trying to figure out some formula when your phone rings. Charles' contact photo pops up on your phone and you contemplate not answering it. You haven’t had any contact with him since Monza so you wonder why he’s decided to call you of all things on a random Monday. But against your better judgment you press answer and put it on speaker before tossing it back down on your bed. 
“Bonjour?” 
There’s muffled sounds in the background, but Charles hasn’t spoken a word, and you wonder if he accidentally butt dialed you. 
“Y/N.” His voice finally echos through the speaker and you hate the way your heart flutters at the sound of your name rolling off his tongue. 
Charles had been working himself up to call you for hours, his finger hovering over your contact too many times to count. He thinks he may have blacked out a little when he finally pressed his thumb down on the screen and then heard your sweet voice, hence his delayed response. Today was his last chance to tell you the big news he'd hoped to tell you last week in Monza, but that clearly didn’t work out. 
The big news in question? Him finally signing with Ferrari. 
The team that he had dreamt of driving for once he got into F1 had finally given him a chance. It was not only his dream, but his Father’s dream for Charles too. Many weekends with his Father spent at race tracks had all led up to him getting that initial seat this year and then finally getting that Ferrari seat for next year, he only wished his Father could be here to witness it. Charles couldn’t have been more happy to finally accomplish that dream not only for himself, but also his Father. 
The other person who knew about how badly he wanted to be sporting that Ferrari red and supported him in finally reaching that goal was you. And to Charles it didn’t matter if you guys perhaps weren’t exactly on the best of terms right now, he wanted you to be the first person he told, just like last year when he got into F1. He sure as hell didn’t want you to find out from the press release, so here he was telling you over the phone. 
“Oui?”
“I’ve done it. I’m driving for Ferrari next year.” It feels good to say it outloud, especially to you because you know just how much it means to him. 
There’s silence from your end for some time and Charles checks to make sure you hadn’t hung up on him, but the call time is still going. He’s about ready to say your name when he hears sniffles echo through the speaker.
“Are you crying?” He’s worried he’s somehow done something once again to make you upset. 
You are in fact crying, as much as you hate it. It’s a mixture of happy and sad tears that you're desperately trying to wipe away like he can see you. Happy tears for him finally signing with Ferrari, a goal that you knew he would accomplish with no issue. Sad tears because you wished he was here telling you in person, wished that things were like they used to be, wished that you never developed feelings for him, and wished that whatever that situation was in Monza last week had never happened. 
“I’m just really happy for you Charlie.” His heart skipped a beat hearing you call him Charlie, it had been too long since you’d graced him with that nickname for his liking. “I told you Ferrari would see what they had missed out on and come running.” 
A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled that night on the swings when he told you about him getting into F1. “I wanted you to be the first person to know.” You can’t ignore the butterflies that form in your stomach at the thought of him thinking about you, wanting you to be the first to know, but you’re still crying, your emotions all over the place. 
When silence fills the line and he still hears your sniffles, he knows it’s not just happy tears you’re crying. It was time to face the elephant over the phone. 
“Listen I know things have been weird between us these past couple months and,” He paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “I know it’s my fault. I broke that promise I made you and I hate myself for it everyday.” The idea of him distancing himself from you was the dumbest idea he’s ever had. He wasn’t better off without you, he was better with you. His feelings towards you aside, he’d rather die than not have you in his life. 
“I got so caught up in this new lifestyle and I lost myself for a while.” Maybe he shouldn’t be lying to you, but he wasn’t about ready to admit you know what. He’d already fucked up enough, he didn’t need to go spilling his guts and fuck everything up even more.
“And then in Monza I was shocked to see you there and I felt like an ass for forgetting about you and I was trying to figure out what to say, but you were clearly upset and it was honestly just a mess.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Basically what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for being a dick and that I really miss you.” 
His thumb toyed with the ring on his finger as he waited for your response  and he remembered you still didn’t know he still wore his. “I also still wear my ring. I just hadn’t gotten the chance to put it back on after qualifying last week.” His gaze never broke from the ring as he spoke. “I don’t like that you think I would ever stop wearing it. Gonna wear it till the grave Y/N.” 
His last sentence was mumbled, but you heard him loud and clear. Your gaze shifted towards your dresser where the silver ring had sat for the past week. Perhaps you had jumped the gun with your actions last week, you knew he had to take off his jewelry when he got into the car, but in the moment your emotions were telling you otherwise. “You made me feel like shit Charles. It’s a horrible feeling to see someone exiting your life in real time and knowing you really can’t do anything about it.” 
“I know and I’m so sorry.” He runs his hand through his hair in frustration, and he thinks he’s done it so many times that he might have a bald spot by morning. 
You feel like you’re forgiving him too easily, but you’ve missed him so much. And to hear him finally admit that he fucked up and say that he missed you too has you unfortunately very easily swayed. He’s been in your life for so long it’s felt like a piece of you was missing these past couple months without having contact with him. So, you forgive him, because you love him.
“I want things to go back to normal, like before.” You’re standing in front of your dresser now, ring rolling between your fingers. 
“They will.” He glanced back down at his ring. “I promise.” 
“You promise?” You asked as you slid the ring back on your finger, a missing part of now you back in its rightful place. 
“I promise.” 
twenty two and twenty five
Over the past four years Charles and you had matured significantly. 
You had graduated and landed a job that you loved at home in Monaco. It required you to travel a lot, which you loved, but also came with amazing off time and flexible hours. A perk you were beyond grateful for because that meant you could attend the majority of Charles races. You had also gotten your own place, a cute little apartment, and was truly embracing adulthood. 
When it came to the love department though– Charles was still there.
Over the four years you had your share of talking stages and two boyfriends who both only lasted a couple months. Your hectic work schedule didn’t help matters, but neither did your feelings towards Charles that you’ve been harboring for the past eight years. You really would have thought you’d have gotten over those, figured it was a thing of adolescents, but your twenties came and the feelings never went. It wasn’t as bad as when you were younger, you learned to handle yourself better and your job keeping you busy helped that. The two of you were at a good place in your relationship and you came to terms that unless you were a big girl and confessed your feelings to him, then you were just going to have to live with him at arms distance. 
Like you when it came to romantic relationships–  you were still Charles number one, as much as he tried to make it work with other girls, they just weren’t you. He had thought multiple times over the years that he was going to tell you how he felt, but you were either talking to someone or had a boyfriend, the timing never right. So he learned, like you, to live with his feelings towards you. A thing that was necessary if he didn’t want a repeat of what happened when he tried to distance himself from you.
So here the two of you were– adults who were completely oblivious to how either of you felt about each other for years, hopelessly pining over each other. 
Charles' career on the other hand was more of a success story than his love life. In the past four years he had accomplished his Maiden win in Belgium during his first year with Ferrari and then his second the next week in Italy. Then went on to win three more races during this year's season. 
A season with three wins may sound like a great accomplishment, but the thing was that he should have had more than three. To say that Charles' fourth season with Ferrari was stressful was an understatement for the ages. He had never been more happy for winter break to arrive than he was this year. He had started the season out on a high by winning the first race of the season, but life somehow had a way of humbling him. 
Horrible strategy calls from the team, bad pit stops, and car troubles had cost Charles his chance at the championship. It seemed like for every high he had– five lows followed. So needless to say when he saw the checkered flag at Abu Dhabi he was somewhat relieved that the season was over and perhaps making the podium may have lifted his spirits a little too. 
But that relief was short lived, because in true Charles fashion, he can’t get out of his head about the what ifs from the season. He had wanted to just let it go, leave it behind him and look forward to this time off and the new season ahead. But all his brain wanted to think about was maybe if we would have gone with softs instead of hards or pitted one lap earlier or managed his tires better then maybe he would have been still coming down from the high of winning the championship right now instead of sulking about. 
He’d been a little distant since break started and you knew he was probably in his head about everything. So when a text pops up on your phone from him late one evening telling you to meet him at the harbor you don’t even think twice about telling him you’ll be there in ten. If you had to guess what he had planned, you’d bet all your money on taking his yacht out to look at the stars. It was something the two of you had done for a couple years now, but it was usually over summer break, not the week before Christmas. But for Charles you would do anything, even brave going out on the water, at night, during the winter. 
When Charles see’s you walk up to his slip on the dock wearing what looks to be the coziest outfit and holding his favorite blanket from your apartment he thinks his heart is about ready to explode. “You’re lucky I love you Charles. It’s gonna be so cold out on the water.” 
I love you. The words echo in his mind as he helps you into the boat. It’s nothing new for you two to say it to each other, and he’s under the impression you’re saying it platonically, but god does it sound so heavenly to hear those three little words come out of your mouth and be directed towards him. 
“I’m the luckiest man alive.” He’s referring to you and that glimmer in his eye would tell anyone that he was, but you don’t see it, you’re too busy getting situated in your designated spot next to the captain's seat. 
Once he’s got the boat a good enough distance out into the water he deploys the anchor and you make your way out to the loungers on the deck. You push two of them together, making a big enough space for both you and Charles to relax. 
You’re already cozied up with the blanket by the time he makes his way over to you, but he doesn’t even have to ask, you’re already pulling back the blanket for him to slide under. 
He lets out a sigh once he gets comfortable beside you. “I needed this.” 
A hum in agreement comes from you as you scoot a little closer to Charles, a gust of cold wind blowing through the air. 
“There’s the big dipper.” Charles points his finger up to the sky, your eyes following where he’s pointing to. The two of you take turns pointing out what you think are constellations, but are undoubtedly random stars in made up shapes, but it doesn’t matter to either of you. 
The gentle lull of the waves crashing against the boat fills the silence that falls between the two of you once you’ve run out of things to point out. And you’ve somehow ended up cuddled into Charles' side, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. You couldn’t help it, he’s always been a walking furnace, and when the opportunity presents itself to be in his arms you were gonna take it. 
It was something that was happening more and more with you two recently– pushing the envelope per say on what your friendship entailed. Cuddling, staying the night at each other's apartments, hands lingering a little too long after a hug were all normal things for friends to do– right?  Friends who somehow while doing these things couldn’t tell that the other person felt the same as they did. 
Love may be blind, but in Charles and your’s case, you were blind to love. 
You don’t know how long you’ve been out here, but you think you could spend eternity out here with him. The feeling of comfort, safety, and the feeling of home that he brings you when he’s around is something you don’t think you can ever live without again. He’s your person and you hope you're his, no matter what the future for the two of you entails. 
The feeling of his fingers ghosting across your arm and down towards your hand tells you he’s searching for one thing and when his pinky finger links with yours you know he’s got something on his pretty little mind. 
“You wanna talk about it?” You whisper, your head still resting on his solid chest.
He doesn’t respond for a while and you think he perhaps didn’t hear you, but then he speaks and it sounds like blasphemy coming out of his mouth. 
“What if I quit?” 
Your body freezes at his words and you’re hoping he’s not meaning what you think, but when you lift your head to see nothing close to a joking manner on his face you know this is about to get serious. 
“I’d think you’d be miserable. You love racing, you were born to do it, it’s in your blood Charles. All the hard work you’ve put in from a literal child to now–” You shake your head, not even wanting to think about him quitting racing. “Don’t be stupid and throw it all away. You’re just only getting started.” 
A deep sigh comes from him, his eyes fixated on your now intertwined hands as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “I’m not going to, but there were so many times this past season that I thought about it. I know that’s crazy to say after I won three times, but god the lows of racing truly are lows. I’d have a good weekend and then have literally a weekend from hell the next race week. It’s just a lot– mentally. Trying to live up to everyone’s expectations, the teams, the fans, the media, and my own is like a mental prison sometimes.” 
You had sat up at this point, and almost like a small child Charles had clung to you, his head in your lap as you gently ran your fingers through hair. You knew he had a rough season, but you didn’t think it had taken this much of a toll on him. 
“And you’re right. I love racing and I’d be miserable without it, but sometimes I’m miserable with it.” 
The frown that had formed on your face moments ago had deepened at his confession. “I didn’t know the season had affected you this much Charles. Wish you would have talked to me sooner about it.” 
“Sorry.” He mumbles. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for Charlie, you’re allowed to feel how you feel. And I know you probably get sick of hearing me say it, but I’m still so immensely proud of you. Like I’ve said before, you could finish dead last in every race and I’d still be proud. I know this season was a rough one at times, but you won three times and were on the podium eleven times. That’s still something to be proud of. So for every time you're miserable because of racing, think about me telling you repeatedly how proud I am of you and maybe you’ll just be miserable because of me instead.” 
You see the corners of his mouth move up and you know you’ve gotten a little smile out of him. “That’s funny that you think me hearing you say that you’re proud of me would make me miserable. It actually has the opposite effect, so your plan may work, but it would result in me being happier instead of more miserable, which is what I think we want to accomplish right?” 
“Yes, I love happy Charlie, but I still love miserable Charlie too.” 
He’s sat up, the two of you sitting face to face now, and you aren’t sure if it's the cool breeze or him staring at you that makes a shiver run up your spine. “That’s good to know.” 
He’s still staring at you and even with only the moon as your source of light, those pretty blue eyes of his are as bright as ever, and staring into your soul. And for a split second you think he’s leaning in and you think this might be the moment he’s gonna kiss you, the moment you’ve been waiting for since you were thirteen. But you’re completely wrong, he’s only reaching for the blanket as he leans back onto the lounger once more. 
“Merci Y/N, truly. For always being here for me, especially for tonight. It was nice to finally get that off my chest. Je t’aime.’ 
You claim your spot back next to Charles and you don’t even second guess yourself when you lay your head back on his chest. “Je t’aime aussi Charlie.” 
Charles, while he can’t complain about having you in his arms and your head on his chest. He can kick himself for that moment mere seconds ago. He was finally going to do it, it was the perfect time, but he chickened out and reached for the blanket instead of using that hand to cup your cheek. He could drive a race car at 230 mph, but couldn’t work up the courage to kiss the girl he was in love with. Maybe he’d find the courage sometime in the next four years. But for now he could live with having you cuddled up against him and knowing that even if it may be platonic, you love him too. 
twenty three and twenty six 
The Monaco Grand Prix. 
An world renowned event. A pinnacle for motorsports. People from all around the world come to the tiny principality every year to watch twenty of the world's best drivers race around the streets of Monaco. 
As a child you watched the grandstands go up every year and you dreamed of getting to watch Charles race those very same streets that you took to school. The two of you as kids watching from the crowd, not knowing that some of those drivers Charles would drive alongside one day, even being teammates with some of them. Charles could only hope that one day that would be him on that top step, hearing his own national anthem play at his home race.  
That one day had yet to happen after six seasons in F1. After three DNF’s, horrible strategy, and two lost pole positions– Charles really didn’t think winning his home race was ever going to happen. He had started to believe the “Monaco curse” more and more year after year. 
You on the other hand didn’t believe that the curse existed. You did believe that the idea of one had made Charles be more in his head when the race came around every year, and in a sense perhaps making him not perform the best at times. But no, you didn’t believe in the Monaco curse.
Every year you had hoped he would win and sadly when he didn’t you were there to pick up the pieces. You knew his time would come and granted you didn’t think it would take this long. But the universe works in mysterious ways, there’s a reason for everything, and you knew there was a reason Charles hadn’t won yet. 
And as this year's grand prix rolled around you hoped that this time the universe was ready to give him what he deserved. 
You did have a good feeling about the race this year, or at least a better feeling than prior years. It was mainly because Charles had been so– carefree these past couple days. He’s usually already thinking about Monaco at the race the week before and the nerves have set in come media day, but this year he’s different. 
He’s excited of course, to be at home for the week and to see everyone for more than a couple days, but during the days leading up to media day he doesn’t show you any sign of nervousness or doubt. And you can’t help but think that this year is the year, he seems to finally be in the right headspace to win this thing. 
Charles and you had spent basically every free moment the two of you had together this week. It was nice, the two of you together again like old times. You had gotten the week off from work, a perk from your job, and it wasn’t like Charles had to travel to another country. So, the two of you took full advantage of the week. Dinner with both families together, hanging out with friends, and just enjoying each other's company filled your Monday through Wednesday. 
But come Wednesday evening you found yourself at Charles apartment after a long day on the water with all your mutual friends. You’re absolutely beat and ready to be back at your place when Charles asks you to come back to his, and you want to say no, but the way he looks in golden hour could be used as a hypnotization technique, so you say yes. 
He claims he’s got something to show you, but the whole car ride and trek into his apartment he won’t budge on telling you what it is. It isn’t until he sits down at his piano with a blush creeping up his neck that you know what he’s got to show you. 
“Have you been working on new music?” You ask with a hopeful smile on your face. 
His fingers ghosted over the keys and his pinky lightly tapped one– the sound filling the room. “For a while now and I think it’s finally ready.” The blush had made its way onto his cheeks and he’s fidgeting with his bracelets as he makes eye contact with you. “So, I think it’s only right that the person that it’s for should get to hear it first.” 
Your eyes widened in surprise and now you’ve both got crimson painted cheeks. “You wrote a song for me?!” 
“Yeah.” He states sheepishly. 
You’ve always loved hearing Charles play the piano. There were many late nights spent where you sat in his apartment and just listened to him mess around on the piano. Those nights were shamelessly some of your favorite moments with Charles, it was like the world didn’t exist and it was just you two and the piano. So to know that he thought and even cared enough about you to write you something had your heart about ready to leap out of your chest. 
“Well, let's hear it then.” You sat down on your usual spot on the couch and eagerly waited for the music to hit your ears. 
He hesitates at first, his fingers slightly slipping on the keys, but once he gets himself sorted the sound that comes from that piano nearly brings tears to your eyes. It’s beautiful and heartfelt and you can’t believe he wrote something like this while he was thinking of you. It’s tugging at those feelings you’ve still got for him after ten years and you try not to get your hopes up that this means he feels the same as you. 
When the song is over his head immediately turns to you for reassurance, but all he sees is your body barreling towards him. You’ve got your arms around him before he can even process what’s happening, but from your excited words of nonsense he knows you loved it. 
“Oh mon dieu!” Is the first coherent thing you’re able to get out. 
“I take it you liked it?” 
“Liked it? I loved it Charlie! It was beautiful and the fact that it was for me made me love it even more. Truly what did I ever do to deserve someone like you in my life? Merci a million times.” 
“I’m glad you loved it. I’ve been working on it for months, wanted to get it perfect in time to show you now.” 
You’re both beaming at each other and to anyone from the outside looking in, the two of you looked so in love it was crazy. Crazy that the both of you have been harboring feelings for each other for years and years and neither of you have made the first move. 
“Will you play me some more?” You try to give him your best puppy dog eyes and of course he can’t say no to you, puppy dog eyes or not. You give him one last hug as a thank you before you sit back down on the couch and let the melodic sounds soothe you. In fact it soothes you so much that combined with the tiredness from being on the boat all day you end up eventually falling asleep. 
You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until you feel Charles gently shaking you awake telling you that is time for bed. It’s not uncommon for the two of you to spend the night at one another’s places. You’ve spent many nights in Charles' guest bedroom after drunken nights out or sometimes just for fun. You’re clinging to him, still basically asleep, as he helps you walk towards what you think is the guest bedroom, but it’s his. 
Charles was only going to grab your pajamas that you had left here last time, they were just in the laundry basket on his dresser and it would just take a second. But you followed him into his room still thinking it was the guest room and Charles doesn’t even know you’ve come in behind him until he turns around to see you crawling into his bed.
That all too familiar feeling starts to bloom in his chest as he sees you curled up and comfortable in his bed. He’d want nothing more than to climb in next to you and hold you all night, but he knows the guest room is his room tonight. Charles doesn’t even make it two steps before you call out his name. When he turns around he’s not expecting to see you lying there staring at him with those sleepy eyes, comforter pulled back as you pat the empty spot next to you. He knows he shouldn’t, this is different than cuddling on the couch or sharing beds as kids, it feels different at least. But against his better judgment he climbs in next to you and like he’s your missing puzzle piece you instantly slide into Charles arms. 
It’s like home, being in each other’s embrace. 
The next morning when you wake up in Charles' room it takes you a minute to remember everything, but the blush that creeps onto your face at the memory of you and Charles cuddling in his bed is embarrassingly bad. And you thank god Charles isn’t next to you right now to see it. 
You do wonder where he’s gone though. He’s not in the living room or kitchen, and it’s still too early for him to have left for media day, but then you hear complaining coming from the bathroom. 
“Maman! No, that's going to be too short!” 
As you peek around the door frame you find Pascale cutting Charles' hair, a tradition the two of them have had every year before the Monaco GP. 
“Charles last time I checked you’re not a hair stylist, let your Maman do her job.” You teased as you finally entered the bathroom and you see him roll his eyes at you in the mirror.
Pascale lights up at the sight of you and leans over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Mon amour, you’re here early.” The look on her face tells you she knows you spent the night, but it’s not like it’s something new or anything happened. Hell even if she didn’t know she could definitely tell you had just rolled out of bed. 
“I spent the night. Fell asleep after we were out on the boat all day.” You shrugged your shoulders, it truly was no big deal (you sleeping in his bed and cuddling with him aside). 
She doesn’t say anything, but she does nothing to hide the smile on her face and sly looks she gives you and Charles the whole time she’s cutting his hair. She’s been waiting for the prophecy to fulfill itself forever and that prophecy just so happens to be Charles and you ending up together. Call it Mother’s intuition, but she’s known you two were made for eachother since you were kids. If you didn’t end up together soon she was going to have to do her own plotting to get you two to fess up about your feelings.
Pascale can see how you two look at each other, how Charles’ eyes light up when you enter the room. How you’ve always been his soft spot since you were little kids. The way you speak about Charles like he’d hung the stars and the moon in the sky. She knew you fell first and Charles a couple years later. All these little things she’s noticed and stored away for that eventual wedding day. 
You can see Charles staring at you through the mirror and it’s making you squirm, his eyes burning into you. “You gonna get rid of that facial hair too?” You try to get him to focus on anything other than you at the moment. 
His mouth opens in fake shock and Pascale curses him for moving. “I’m actually thinking of growing a full beard.” 
“Oh please don’t.”
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘’t.” 
Charles and you don’t speak about you spending the night in his bed or in his arms. In fact you don’t see him again until qualifying on Saturday where he puts it on pole. You’re ecstatic and you can tell he is too even though he’s trying to remain calm and collected while he does his press duties. He’s gotten pole two times before in Monaco, he knows pole doesn’t mean you win, but he can’t help but think it’s a good sign. 
That night you find yourself back at Charles' apartment by his request once again. Which was a surprise, you figured he’d want to be alone the night before the big race. But it’s quite the opposite, he wanted your company, he can’t get how good it felt to have you in his arms in his bed the other night and he selfishly hopes it happens again tonight. 
“Feeling good about tomorrow?” You asked as the two of you sat down for an amazing pre race dinner of pizza. His trainer may not like it, but you two thought it was a good idea. He needed all the positive energy he could get and if that meant pizza for dinner, then so be it. 
“Yeah. The car has been consistent the past two days and I’ve got pole.” He paused for a moment and you can tell he wants to say something, but he stuffs his mouth with pizza instead. You don’t press the matter anymore, figuring he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, didn’t want to possibly jinx anything. It’s a relatively quiet dinner the rest of the time, he asks about how your job is going and you two shamelessly gossip for a moment about two old friends who recently broke up. 
It’s not until you’re putting the leftover pizza into the fridge that he brings up tomorrow again. 
“It feels right this time.” He’s leaning against the counter, eyes trained on you as you turn back around to face him. “I mean tomorrow– it feels right. I think it’s gonna happen.” 
A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you move to lean against the counter next to him. “I think so too. You’ve been different too, more relaxed this week. Think it might be the universe telling us it’s finally gonna happen?” 
A deep sigh comes from Charles. “Mon dieu I hope so.” 
You glance over at the time on the microwave– 11:00 p.m. Shit. You didn’t think it was that late already. 
“It’s getting late Charles. You should be in bed and I should be heading home. It’s a big day tomorrow.” You go to give him a hug goodbye, but he’s just staring at you, and it throws you for a loop. “What’s wrong?” 
He swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Was he sure he wanted to ask you this? Would it make things weird? It never has before when he’s asked you, but this time felt different. Fuck his palms were drenched in sweat and he could feel his heart beat racing. 
“Um– well you could just spend the night if you wanted to” 
You try not to act like you weren’t silently hoping the whole night that he’d ask you to stay. You had figured he wouldn’t want you to again after you basically invaded his bed the other night, so hearing him tell you to stay made you a little giddy. 
“Traffic is a nightmare this time of year…” You act like you're weighing your options while you fully know you’re going to say yes. “Probably take me twice as long to get home, even at this time of night.” You fake ponder some more, really putting on a show. “Yeah I guess I’ll spend the night.” 
He tries to hide the smile on his face when he hears you finally accept his offer and as much as he would like to stay up and talk some more, he really did need to be getting to bed. “Well, I probably should be in bed by now. So I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” 
“Yeah. I should go to bed too.” 
So you follow him down the hall towards the bedrooms. When he reaches his room he opens the door, but lingers in the doorway. You being a couple paces behind him, figured he was just waiting to tell you goodnight. But when you reach the guest room, which is across from his room, he doesn’t say anything to you. Your hand lingers above the door knob and something inside of you tells you not to open it– to turn around instead. 
You’re met with his piercing blue eyes staring at you as you turn around. His gaze sometimes could be so intense, but this time you matched him. There was an obvious tension in the air, but neither of you were brave enough to be the one to break it. Then suddenly you see Charles nod his head towards his room before finally going past the doorway. He’d left the door open behind him and you knew that was just another unspoken invitation. And like a moth to a flame you followed behind him, not even second guessing your actions. You hadn’t even opened the guest bedroom door, you were a goner as soon as he asked you to spend the night. 
For the second time in a week the two of you shared the same bed, not sexually, but it definitely wasn’t friendly or at least how normal friends would share a bed. But tonight he’s in your arms, your fingers lightly combing through his hair as he rests his head on your stomach. He falls asleep rather quickly, his light snores filling the room, but sleep evades you that night. Your heads a mess, you can’t help but think that Charles has to feel the same way as you, there’s just no way that he doesn’t. 
What man is this intimate with someone in a non sexual way and doesn’t have the slightest bit of feelings for them? But then your heart breaks at the idea of him just stringing you along and you know you’ve got to set up some boundaries to protect yourself. Unfortunately you were never going to be the one to admit how you felt first, so unless he spills his guts, then this was the last time you’d share a bed with Charles like this. 
The next morning he’s already gone and at the track by the time you wake up and when you grab your phone from the nightstand you see he’d sent you a text. 
Charlie: i left early this morning and you just looked too peaceful to wake up before i left. so i’ll see you before lights out. 
A sigh escaped past your lips as you tossed your phone on the bed, today was going to be a long day. 
You made the journey back to your apartment to get ready and then fought the traffic again to get down to the circuit. The hustle and bustle distracts your brain from continuing your spiral session from last night, something you were grateful for. You were here to cheer on and support Charles, not go into a frenzy once again about whether or not he likes you. 
A good amount of your time is spent in Ferrari’s hospitality chatting with everyone and discussing potential outcomes for the race. You don’t end up seeing Charles until the time between the drivers parade and race time. He’s in his drivers room when you find him and he’s literally the calmest you’ve ever seen him before a race. 
His face lights up when he sees you and he’s immediately pulling you in for a hug. “Didn’t think you were gonna come for a second. We’ve usually seen each other by now.” 
“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Just got caught up talking to everyone and you know how our Moms get in a large group. I had to wrangle them in before they invited everyone over for dinner tonight.” 
“Well I don’t plan on being home for dinner tonight. I’m going to be out celebrating.” He’s got a cheeky grin on his face as speaks. 
You laughed lightly at his new found confidence. “Oh someone is sure of themself.” 
He only laughs along with you, as the two of you sit down on his physio table.
The two of you chat some more about random things, like if he’s planning on going to Jimmy’z or someplace else tonight. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been talking until he gets a knock on his door letting him know it’s twenty minutes till lights out. Before you leave you stand in front of him, holding out your ring clad pinky finger and like a natural reflex Charles wraps his around yours, pulling them close to his chest. 
“You’re gonna do great and when you take that top step on the podium I’m gonna be there front and center cheering you on.” 
“You better be.” He’s serious, he doesn’t want to win this thing if you aren't right there alongside him.
“I promise Charlie.” 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
You think you might pass out or throw up when the lights go out and the race finally begins. It then turns into thinking you’re going to do both when there’s a red flag not even halfway through the first lap. Your mind automatically goes straight to Charles and your stomach churns at the idea of him being hurt, screw the win, all that mattered to you was that he was okay. Thankfully he’s not involved in the crash, but the red flag lasts for what seems forever. And eventually you have to endure the start of the race again. 
You’re a nervous wreck the whole race, but you think with how hard Pascale has been gripping your hand that she might be more nervous than you. It’s the longest 78 laps of your life and you’re praying he can maintain the lead, put a big enough gap between Oscar that he can just ride this race out. Lap by lap he’s holding steady but that just makes you more nervous. The knot in your stomach grows more and more as that lap number gets closer to 78. 
He’s driven so well the whole time you couldn’t have been more proud. You’d been holding back tears since lap 68, but when you hear him over the radio on lap 75 say that he’s just going to bring it home you can’t help but let a couple tears fall. And by now you know the win is his. He’s got almost a nine second lead and as long as he keeps his head clear he was going to be the first one to see the checkered flag. 
The feeling of seeing Charles cross the finish line and knowing he had won was indescribable. The whole Ferrari unit was going crazy, already rushing down to be there when Charles got out of the car. You’re cheering as tears run down your face, your Mom and Pascale hugging you, the two of them also in tears. It’s surreal, him finally winning, you can only imagine what he’s feeling like right now. You waste no time in heading over to get the best spot to watch the podium ceremony. You’re front and center, the metal barrier pressed up against your abdomen as more people fill the crowd behind you. 
The feeling you got seeing him come out, take that top step, and proudly hold that trophy was something you wished you could feel forever. To see him wrapped up in the Monaco flag as the anthem played, the visible weight taken off of his shoulders. You were so unbelievably proud of him and so utterly in love with him. The tears just wouldn’t stop coming as you watched him shine up there. The universe had finally decided that this was his time, he was destined to win this race today. 
Charles feels on top of the world as he looks down at everyone in the crowd, he can’t believe he’d finally won his home race. He’d immediately spotted you as soon as he took that top step and he could see how happy you are for him, tears streaming down your face paired with that beaming smile. His heart has never felt as full as it does right now. And as he stands there hearing his national anthem play at his home race he knows that today was meant to be. The universe put him here, put you here, for a reason. He’s tired of pretending like his life wouldn’t be better without you being his. The two of you haven’t broken eye contact for awhile, both of you grinning like fools, and he decides that now is the time. 
“Je suis amoureux de vous” He mouths to you. 
It takes you a moment to realize what he was saying, but when you do you think you’re dreaming. There’s no way he just admitted to being in love with you right here, during his podium celebration. You pinch yourself just for good measure before mouthing it back to him. And if it was even possible his smile gets even bigger. 
You’re the first person he wants to see after the celebratory champagne pop. He can’t wait a second longer to tell you how he actually feels out loud. He doesn’t care that he’s drenched in champagne or that there’s hundreds of people around. He’s waited too long to let a moment like this go by. He’s pushing his way through the crowd to find you, he’s basically getting manhandled, but he doesn’t care, you’re his priority. And when he finally finds you it’s like a scene straight out of a movie. 
His adrenaline is pumping and he doesn’t even think about what he’s doing, he’s just running straight towards you, his heart fluttering when you smile at the sight of him. His hands cup your face and in an instant his lips are on yours. It takes you by surprise, but once your brain finally processes what’s happening, you grab him by his race suit, pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss. He tastes like champagne and sweat, his lips soft, and his facial hair tickles your face. Kissing Charles is everything you could have ever dreamed of and more, you’d never thought the day would come. 
When you finally pull back it feels like the world is spinning and Charles laughs at you being drunk off one kiss from him. His hands cup your face once more causing you to focus on him. “I’m in love with you. Have been for years, but I’ve just been too scared to say anything, but winning today let me know the universe was on my side. And I couldn’t pass up the opportunity once again to tell you how I feel.” Your eyes widen at hearing him say he’s been in love with you for years. “Don’t act so surprised. I made it painfully obvious sometimes.” His dimples peaking out as he smiles at you. 
“I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen Charlie.” 
Now it’s his turn to look surprised. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 
“Was too scared that you didn’t feel the same.” 
“I could never not love you Y/N. It’s always been you, you’re my person. I wish I would have  told you sooner so I could have been doing this more often.” He pulls you in for another kiss and you think if he didn’t have his arms around you your legs would have given out. 
Never in a million years did you think that Charles would be confessing his love to you after he’d just won his home race. If thirteen year old you could see you right now she’d probably die. You can’t believe the man you love with every fiber of your being loves you back. The universe definitely wanted today to be a win not only for Charles, but for you. 
He grabs your hand and presses your ring clad pinky finger to his lips. “Mon coeur.” Then he presses another kiss to your lips. “Je t’aime.”
“Je t’aime aussi.” 
thirty three and thirty six
The summer sun had started to make her farewell to the principality of Monaco, pink and orange hues swirled in the sky. A little boy and girl play on a weathered playset, their giggles echoing through the open air. The sound of a screeching sliding door tells them that their Maman is coming to get them before they even hear her holler their names. “Come say goodbye to grand-mère and grand-père!” 
Their tiny bodies run towards the house and are soon met with lots of hugs and kisses from their grandparents, who they see very often, but it wouldn’t seem like it by the way they were acting. 
“Ok, who wants ice cream?” Their Papa asks after all the goodbyes are said and they are out the door. 
“Me!” Is said in unison from the two children. 
The little girl has her Papa wrapped around her finger, he just thinks the world of her as they walk hand in hand down the street, while the little boy is definitely a Maman’s boy. 
“You know your Maman and I used to come to this place all the time when we were younger.” 
“We know Papa, you’ve told us a hundred times, and we come here all the time.” The little girl sasses her Papa.
“I know but I just like to reminisce.” The man gives his wife a wink and she knows he’s about ready to go down memory lane.
The journey to the ice cream shop is filled with stories about their younger years and luckily for the children the ice cream shop isn’t that far away. 
That all too familiar sweet smell soon fills the parents senses and it brings them back to when they were around their children’s age. That same bell on the door dings as they enter and that same old man who should have retired a decade ago is still working behind the counter. 
“Ah the Leclercs! My favorite family. You know I’m gonna have to start making extra vanilla ice cream just to accommodate you guys.” 
taglist: @rana030 @blueflorals @sltwins
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giannaln4 · 20 days ago
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GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day ten.
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Jealous Lando (2.2k words)
summary: Something unleashes inside Lando when you run into one of your coworkers, his shameless invitation making him want to remind you who you belong to.
warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, blow job, fingering, jealous!lando, possessive!lando.
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You found yourselves sitting in a somewhat fancy café in Austin, enjoying the warm weather as he told you about his day.
Lando had been a little bit busy with the duties that carried being a Formula One driver, so any little time you could spend with each other was well appreciated, so sitting really close to him in one of the couches as you sipped your coffee was nice.
However, you took a few days of vacations to go with him to the American races, but that didn’t mean you were completely off the hook since you carried your laptop everywhere in case you needed to get something done, which is what happened right now.
You got a notification on your phone from what seemed like an important email, so you pulled your laptop out to take a look at the file your boss had shared with you, promising Lando it wouldn’t take more than five minutes.
It had been like fifteen minutes and you were still reviewing it, now with your phone on your ear while you talked with someone about this new project you were supposed to take over once you got back as Lando had your computer on his lap.
He didn’t really mind, or at least that was what he always told you. Here is the thing: he understood that your job was important for you, and he appreciated the fact that you took a few days just so you could be with him, but sometimes he just wished you could quit so he could take you everywhere with him without having to worry about you focusing on a screen instead of him.
Was that selfish? Maybe, but who could blame him for wanting his girlfriend to be all his? 
You would never describe Lando as the possessive type, and maybe it was because he never voiced his concerns out loud. He was jealous sometimes, that’s for sure, but possessive? Not really.
“Sorry, baby. I really had to take this,” you said as you hung up the phone.
“It’s okay, but I don’t understand why you still have to do all of this if you are supposed to be on vacation.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I thought I would be able to go the full month without having to do any of this,” you sighed as you took one last look at the email. “I will try to stay off work for the rest of the time we are together, I promise.”
That really pissed him off. If you were on vacation, shouldn’t you be able to enjoy it? Lando was building up the courage to tell you what he had been thinking pretty much your entire relationship, carefully thinking about his words. “Maybe you should quit-”
“Oh, hi Y/N,” a random voice interrupted him, making both of you look up. You both saw one of your coworkers standing there, entirely ruining Lando’s plan to covince you to leave your job and become a full-time wag. He could already feel his blood boiling.
“Oh- hi,” you replied, trying to remember the guy’s name. 
“I didn’t know you were here. I mean, I knew you were off, but I assumed you were just staying home. Nice to see you are enjoying your free time travelling.” He was completely ignoring Lando, not directing a single word to him, not even a quick glare, and Lando didn’t like that. Not one bit. 
“Yeah, I took time off to go to a few races,” you said, motioning your head towards your now upset boyfriend. “What about you?”
“I’m here to attend my brother’s wedding,” he said with a small laugh. “But I didn’t bring anyone with me, so it will be a bit awkward to be the best man without a date.”
Lando already knew where this was going, and he was using all his self-control not to punch the guy in the face and tell him to fuck off. They were in a public place anyway, and he knew his team would not like to see something like this hit the news, but man, the guy really deserved it.
“Hey, unless you are free tomorrow. Would you be interested in coming with me? You know, free food and free buzz. Big party.” At that moment, Lando felt his coherent thoughts leave his mind, his hand finding a place on your thigh and squeezing it softly as he killed him with a glare.
“We’re busy, actually, can’t you see?” Lando finally spoke, in a tone you had never heard before, as he pointed to the open laptop that still rested on his lap.
“Oh, I didn’t mean right now," the guy replied, finally acknowledging Lando’s presence, but he turned to face you again. “There is a rehearsal tonight, but tomorrow-”
“We have plans for tomorrow." Lando interrupted, bringing you closer to him with his hand still gripping your thigh. “Don’t we?” He said, looking at you.
You looked back at him, slightly blushing at your boyfriend’s actions. “Yeah, sorry… uh”
“Joe”
“Right, Joe,” you repeated, giving him a friendly smile “Sorry, Joe.”
“Good luck being alone at the wedding though." Lando wasn’t trying to be friendly at all; if anything, he just wanted him to stop hitting on you and leave immediately. “See you around, mate.”
Joe looked at you, as if he were asking you for confirmation to leave. “I’ll see you back at the office,” you said, waving him goodbye.
Joe sighed loudly as he started to walk away, and Lando smiled proudly and kissed your temple.
“Wow, I knew you were jealous, but I didn’t think you were that jealous," you whispered, placing your hand on top of his.
“I’m not,” he frowned his eyebrows as if he was being falsely accused. “We’re just really busy.”
He stared at you with eyes full of... anger? You weren’t sure, but you knew for a fact that he’d be leaving marks on your thigh if he kept gripping you like that.
“You know I would’ve said no, right? You didn’t have to scare him off like that.”
“We’re leaving.” Was all he replied, taking his hand away as he closed your laptop, standing up and walking away from where you were sitting.
You tried to follow him, but he was walking so quick he was already waiting in the car when you got there. You let out a sigh as you opened the door, sitting beside him as you tried to think of something you could say to get his mind off what just happened.
“So, it’s a sprint weekend. You haven’t done one of those in a while.”
But he barely let out a sound at your words, at least acknowledging that you were talking to him but not caring enough to say something back. That’s how it was for the rest of the ride back to the hotel, you trying to talk about anything and him just grunting, and by the way he was gripping the stearing wheel, you knew he wouldn’t let this go any time soon.
Once he parked the car, he got out and waited for you a few seconds to collect your things and be next to him, grabbing your hand tightly as he guided you to the elevator and back to your room, and as soon as you were inside, he dropped your hand and found a seat on the small couch that was placed next to the hotel bed, staring at you as if he was waiting for you to apologise for something that wasn’t even your fault.
“Lando, let’s not do this, please. I would have never in a million years accepted to go with him, even if you weren’t there-”
“On your knees.”
“What?” You asked in disbelief after a few seconds of silence as he unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down until they were pooling on his ankles.
“You heard me, go on.” 
You slowly made your way there, watching him as he slowly pumped his length. At this point, you weren’t even thinking clearly anymore, and doing as he said just came naturally to you, so you dropped to your knees once you were in front of him, swallowing harshly when he motioned his head towards his angry cock.
Not thinking twice, you took him in your mouth and started working on it, knowing teasing him right now was far from a good idea. 
“Why don’t you take some more, love?” He said as he quickly took a hold of your hair, pushing your head down his shaft.
You could really feel his size because of the stretch your mouth feels, which you always did, but given the situation, it somehow felt more prominent. Your cheeks were hollowing around him, and one of your hands was wrapped around his base as your other one gripped his thigh, nails digging into his tanned skin.
“You know you are mine, right?” He asked you in a shaky tone. “No other guys but me should be thinking about talking to you, asking you to be their date- ah- only I get to have you like this, so pretty with your mouth around my cock.”
You let out a moan at his words, secretly loving this side of your boyfriend, and the vibrations made him let out another moan as he used his grip on your hair to guide your movements.
“No one else will ever see you like this, right, baby?” You tried and failed to nod your head; you didn’t even have control anymore, you were just trying to follow what Lando was silently instructing you to do.
His hold was getting tighter as you sucked his crown, which made him let out the deepest moan you have ever heard from him as his fingers tightened even more, unintentionally bucking his hips up once. You gagged around his cock, taking it gracefully as mascara tears rolled down your face.
“Shit, I could have you like this at all times. You are doing so good, angel.” His words were breathy and full of bliss as he got closer and closer to his release.
The way his cock twitched inside you and his thighs tensed under your hand made you know he was seconds away, the echoes of his moans bouncing off the walls as he started thrusting his hips up, his cock hitting deep inside your throat. With one last hit, you felt his hot cum filling your mouth, some of it smearing on the sides as you happily swallowed all of it, making you slow your movements down with his hand.
When he started to catch his breath, he pulled your head off his cock, dropping your hair and patting his lap so you would sit there, which you immediately obeyed.
“Why don’t you quit that stupid job so I don’t have to worry about assholes like him hitting on you?” Lando’s hands were roaming your thighs, slightly parting them as his hand sneaked into your underwear. 
Your breath hitched when his fingers explored your folds, finally landing on your clit with an insane pressure. He started rubbing hard circles, his mouth so close to your neck you could feel his hot breath.
“You are mine.” A moan scaped your lips at this. “Say it.”
“I’m yours, all yours.” 
As soon as you said this, one of his fingers entered your desperate hole, quickly finding a pace for you. He was desperate to make you come, and you knew he would get it within minutes if he kept playing with you like this.
Lando found a place on your neck, kissing and sucking your sensitive skin as he dipped a second finger inside you. “You think anyone else could make you feel this good? Mhm?”
“No,” you breathed out, fingers gripping his thighs.
“Good.”
You weren’t sure if it was his fingers or his words, but your stomach was quickly building up that familiar feeling as your hips started moving against his hand, making him use one more finger as you completely lost yourself in pleasure.
“Lando- fuck.”
“That’s it. Cum for me, love.”
His teeth were niping the skin on your shoulder, and only seconds before your orgasm hit you, you let out a loud moan, making him smile as he somehow fastened his pace.
With a few more pumps, a wave of bliss travelled through your body, your head falling back and into his shoulder as he helped you through your orgasm. At this point, your body had stopped moving, and all you could do was moan and squirm under his touch.
“‘s too much,” you managed to say.
“Say it again.”
“Say what again?” 
“Say you are mine.”
“I’m- ah- I’m yours, Lando, only yours. Shit” You complied as a string of moans scaped your parted lips.
“Good girl,” he said, finally taking his hand away from your sensitive pussy and kissing you, slow and possessive as one of his fingers cleaned the cum that was still on the side of your mouth. “Now, let’s get you changed. We’re going to dinner.” Lando softly pushed you off his lap, standing up as he pulled his trousers back up. “Oh, and make sure to wear that black dress I love so much.”
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heartysworld · 4 months ago
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The third wheel // LN4
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Lando Norris x Female Reader
In his attempts to make you feel less lonely, Lando ends up being the one who feels neglected.
W.C: 1.5k
Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Feel free to send requests or other questions if you happen to have any! Enjoy!
MASTERLIST
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You wake up to the soft sounds of Milo’s tiny yawns and the gentle rustling of the covers as you carefully slip out of bed. Blinking against the sunlight streaming through the curtains, you stretch and cradle the little furball close to you. The puppy that Lando got you for your birthday has been your constant companion, especially during those long weeks when he’s away racing and you're unable to join him.
Milo has filled a void in your life that you hadn’t fully realized was there. His playful antics and loyal presence have made Lando’s frequent absences more bearable. Today, though, Lando is finally home for the summer break, and you’re both excited to spend some quality time together.
You move around the bedroom, getting ready for the day. Milo follows you everywhere like a shadow, his tiny paws padding softly on the floor. You pick out a casual dress and head to the bathroom to freshen up. As you brush your hair, you glance at Milo in the mirror. He’s sitting obediently, watching you with his big, adoring eyes, his tail thumping against the floor.
“Are you ready for a walk, handsome?” you ask, smiling at him as you lean down to give him a loving scratch between his ears and earning a small lick of your wrist.
From the bedroom doorway, Lando’s voice chimes in. "Yeah, just about," he replies, his tone filled with warmth and excitement.
You laugh softly, realizing that Lando thinks you were talking to him. Turning around, you see him standing there, grinning at you. "I was actually talking to Milo," you say, giggling.
Lando’s smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers and laughs along. “I see how it is.” he mutters playfully, though there's a hint of real disappointment in his eyes.
You walk over to him and give him a quick kiss. “Oh, come on, Lando. You know I love you too. Ready to go?”
The three of you step out into the sunlit streets of Monaco, Milo trotting happily between you. The morning air is fresh and crisp, and you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment. As you walk hand in hand with your boyfriend, you two chat about everything that’s happened while he was away.
“Did you see the photos I sent you from when we visited that new café?” you ask, looking up at him.
“Yeah, it looked amazing. We should go there together.” Lando replies, squeezing your hand.
You nod enthusiastically. “Definitely. They have the best pastries and even offer pup cups for pets!”
Milo tugs on his leash, eager to explore as the mention of his second favorite thing reaches his floppy ears. You laugh and let him lead the way for a bit. Every so often, he stops to sniff at something or chase a fluttering leaf, and you can’t resist bending down to pet him and tell him how cute he is.
Lando watches, a soft smile on his face, but you notice a hint of something else in his eyes. Is it jealousy? You brush the thought aside, focusing on enjoying the walk.
Later, you stop by a little café for a quick breakfast. You find a table outside, and while you and Lando sip your coffee and nibble on croissants, Milo sits at your feet, looking up at you expectantly.
“Do you think he wants some?” Lando asks, pointing to Milo.
You chuckle. “Probably. He’s always hungry.”
Lando tears off a small piece of his croissant and hands it to Milo, who gobbles it up with a wagging tail. “Good boy, Milo." Lando says, ruffling his fur.
As the day goes on, you visit a few shops, picking up some treats for Milo and a couple of things for the house. Everywhere you go, people stop to admire Milo and comment on how adorable he is while your worldwide famius boyfriend is waiting on the side. You beam with pride, feeling like a proud parent.
Back at home, you and Lando prepare dinner together. As you chop vegetables and he stirs the sauce, you talk about your plans for the rest of the summer break.
“I was thinking we could take a trip somewhere,” Lando suggests. “Maybe a weekend getaway?”
“That sounds perfect,” you agree, smiling at him. “Where do you have in mind?”
“Maybe the south of France? It’s not too far, and we could take Milo with us.”
You nod, your excitement growing. “I’d love that. Milo would too, I’m sure.”
As you finish preparing the meal, you notice Lando watching you with a thoughtful expression. “What’s on your mind, handsome?” you ask, setting the table.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You know, sometimes I feel like Milo is the man in this relationship,” he says with a half-smile.
You pause, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he gets all your attention. I feel like I’m the one begging for it,” he admits, trying to sound light-hearted but clearly feeling a bit left out.
You laugh softly, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist slowly making their way up to the base of his neck, something that you know makes Lando melt. “Lando, you’re always going to be my number one. Milo is just... well, he’s our little baby. It’s different.”
Lando chuckles, pulling you closer. “I guess I’ll have to get used to sharing you.”
The following race weekend, you’re at the Dutch Grand Prix accompaning Lando with Milo safely by your side. As Lando talks with some of his friends and fellow drivers, he shares his feelings about Milo taking over the house. They laugh, nodding in understanding.
“I know exactly what you mean,” says Carlos. “When we got our dog, I felt the same way. But trust me, it gets better. You just have to find a balance.”
Charles chimes in, “Yeah, and sometimes, it’s nice to have a little competition for their affection. Keeps things interesting.”
Lando grins, feeling a bit more reassured. The camaraderie with his friends helps ease his worries.
During the race, you and Milo cheer Lando on from the sidelines. Milo barks excitedly whenever Lando’s name is mentioned, and you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.
After the race, Lando comes over, sweaty and tired but grinning from ear to ear. He scoops Milo up into his arms and gives you a kiss. “We did it!” he exclaims, pulling your body closer to his.
“You were amazing out there,” you say, beaming at him. “We’re so proud of you.”
That evening, back at the hotel, the three of you curl up on the couch. Milo is snuggled between you, his little head resting on Lando’s lap. You lean against Lando’s shoulder, feeling content and happy.
“You know,” Lando says softly, “I think Milo might be growing on me. He’s not so bad.”
You smile, reaching over to stroke Milo's fur. “See? We’re a perfect little family.”
Lando chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Yeah, we are.”
As the night settles in, you all cuddle closer, enjoying the warmth and comfort of being together. In that moment, everything feels just right. The love and connection between you, Lando, and Milo create a perfect harmony, making every moment together special.
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MASTERLIST
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scarlethexelove · 4 months ago
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Growing A Family
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Milf!Reader
Word Count: 1451
Warnings: Smut, Intersex!Natasha, P in V, Nat really wants a baby, a bit of a breeding kink, Belly bulge, kitchen sex, Unprotected sex obviously, maybe other things.
Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4
A/n: Been sitting on this idea for a while. Just Nat being cute and deserving a family. This is just nice and cute and soft. Did I mention Nat is adorable.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
Your soft hums fill Natasha’s ears as she enters the kitchen. She leans against the door frame admiring your form as you clean up. Your jeans hugging your hips perfectly, your plush thighs, and how they accentuating your ass deliciously. You haven’t even noticed her return as your mind stays focused on the task in front of you. Nat pushes herself off the frame and makes her way over to you. She tightly grips your hips as she presses her front against your back. You gasp in surprise but relax in her hold. “Mmm your ass looks delicious in these jeans.” Nat kisses your shoulder as she pulls you impossibly close. “Thank you baby.” You giggle as a blush spreads across your cheeks. 
Nat has just returned from dropping off your daughter at Yelena’s place wanting to give you a break and spend some quality time together. Setting her plan in motion. Her lips trail to your neck nipping at the skin as her hands slide up under shirt cupping your clothed breast. “Natty.” You try to swat her away but the moan you let out as she sucks harshly on your pulse point has you faltering. “Have a baby with me.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls your bra down causing your breast to spill out giving her access to squeeze them. 
A whimper falls from your lips but you try to compose yourself. “N-Natty. We talked about t-this.” You stutter slightly. You two have had this conversation before, no kids until she retires. You’ve been a single parent before and said you wouldn’t add another child to your family if you had to do it again. Nat understood this and accepted your conditions. She wasn’t ready to give up that life before but now she was ready. She wanted to settle down with you and raise a family together. She loves your daughter as if she was her own and wanted nothing more than to give her a sibling. 
“I had a meeting with Fury this morning.” Nat mumbles against the skin of your shoulder. You give her a hum, encouraging her to continue knowing she is leading this somewhere. “I’m done detka. No more missions, no more being gone for weeks on end. I want to be here with you, with Elizabeth, to grow our family. He offered for me to train recruits as needed, so I’ll only have to be there a couple days a week.” She kisses your shoulder softly as she speaks and softly massages your breast. You try to turn around in her hold, but she holds you tighter, pushing you further, pinning you between her body and the counter. 
“I’m going to put a baby in you.” Nat bites down on your neck. You can’t help the moan that slips past your lips wanting nothing more than to feel your wife filling you up. You can feel her already hardened cock pressing against your ass. “Please.” You whimper. One of Nat’s arms wraps around you tightly as the other moves down. Her fingers find the button to your pants and undo them, the zipper following soon after. Her fingers hook into the waistband of both your jeans and panties as she pulls them down. You help shimmy them down until they are around your knees. 
Nat then moves that hand between your bodies, pushing her sweatpants and boxers down to her thighs. She nips and sucks at the skin of your neck and shoulders. Her cock slaps against your ass before she humps you slightly. Her cock already getting coated in your arousal as she does so. “Fuck printsessa you're so wet for me already.” You nod. “Please Natty want you to fill me.” Nat groans. “Oh detka I’m going to keep filling you until you're pregnant with my baby.” She lines her member up with your entrance slowly pushing into you. 
When the head of her cock fully presses in, Nat moves her hands back cupping your breast in each hand. She tweaks your nipples the further she presses into you. Both of you moan at the feeling of her filling you up. “Always so tight for me printsessa no matter how many times I fuck you.” Your walls deliciously squeezing her the further she pushes in until she is fully sheathed inside of you. You let out a gasp at the feeling of being so full. 
Nat lets you get used to her size as she continues to massage your breast. “Fuck I can’t wait to see these grow. Your belly swollen with my baby. You will look so fucking hot.” Nat mumbles against your skin. You nod along with her words. “F-fuck, please Natty want it so bad.” You start pressing back into her letting her know that she can move. She starts to slowly pull out before pushing back in. Her thrust starts off at a slower pace as she builds up speed. You let out small gasps and whines as her pace builds. 
You let your head fall to the side giving Nat more access. One of your hands moves up and behind you as you lace your fingers through Nat’s hair as she litters marks on your skin. Her thrust finds a steady pace as her cock plunges into your hole. Your walls are sucking her in with every thrust of her hips. Your moans grow louder as they bounce off the walls of the kitchen. Your body is still pressed against the counter as Nat holds you up. “So good.” You slur your words as the pleasure courses through you. Your grip on Nat’s hair tightens, causing the woman to moan and bite down harder on your skin. 
As Nat thrusts into you, you press your body back into hers, matching her pace. Her cock reached depths that you didn’t know where possible. One of Nat’s hands slides down your stomach until she feels how her cock fills you up. With every thrust pressing lightly into her hand has her moaning loudly in your ear. She presses down on the spot causing a gush of arousal and your mouth to hang open in a silent scream. “Feel how deep I’m inside you. My big cock filling your tiny little hole to the brim.” You nod and moan. “Y-Yes, fuck.” She smirks. 
The closer you grow to your release, your walls squeeze and suck Nat in. Her thrust are starting to become more erratic as she chases her high. She presses down harder on your abdomen, causing your grip on her hair to tighten her scalp, burning with a mix of pleasure and pain. You don’t know how it is possible as her thrust speeds up. Your orgasm is quickly approaching, and so is Nats. “Mmm wanna cum.” You whine already teetering on the edge. Nat’s thrust are sloppy and you can feel her cock twitching inside of you. “Hold it printsessa.” She murmurs in your ear. 
It takes everything in you to comply with her words. You're so close to letting go that you don’t know how it hasn’t washed over you yet. Nat keeps thrusting as your walls clamp around her, desperate for release. It doesn’t take long before Nat is also on the edge. “Cum detka.” She presses down again on where her cock fills you causing you to let out a scream of pleasure. The pressure causes you to release all over her cock. Your whole body trembling in her hold as the powerful orgasm washes over you. Her hips stutter at the same time as she releases inside of you. She paints your walls white with her cum, filling you even fuller than you already were. She groans as your walls milk her dry. Nat ruts into you to prolong both of your orgasms. She slowly comes to a stop when you whimper a bit from how sensitive you are. She doesn’t pull out wanting to keep her cum inside of you for as long as possible. 
“Are you okay detka?” Nat asks as she holds you gently in her arms, keeping you upright as your legs shake. You hum as your head falls back on her shoulder and you relax back into her. She peppers you with soft kisses as you both calm down. “I love you.” You mumble tiredly. Nat smiles. “I love you to printsessa.” 
A peaceful bliss washes over you as your mind wanders to the future. Growing your family with the woman that you love seems to come at the perfect time. A new journey for you to take together, but you're both excited for it. To finally have all that you could have ever wanted with the perfect woman.
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