#ALL THE FRENCH HEARTS ON YOUR BIRTHDAY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astraystayyh · 9 months

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All for you

skz and the vows they'd write for you.

fluff. gn reader. word count-3.9k. listen to video games by lana del rey if you can!!!

a.n: thank you to @a-cute-french-fry and @dorisnumber1fan for brainstorming some of these with me <3 i made myself very delulu with this so ENJOY. happy 3k!!! i love you all muahhh <3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 chan ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

Chan's warm hands are in yours, fingers tangled with one another tightly- like the sturdy roots of an ancient tree.

“Baby,” he calls out softly, and you can already feel tears well up in your eyes at the tenderness in his voice. His thumb reaches out instinctively to wipe the lone tear that managed to escape. His right hand remains on your cheek, cradling it gently.

“Seungmin always liked to joke that I was nearly half-fifty-two. Then half fifty-three on my next birthday,” he starts, as a faint giggle escapes your lips. “That's how I counted time too, with the different days I lived… That is until I met you.” He pauses, a shaky breath leaving him and crashing onto you. “Suddenly I was no longer twenty-six. I was one week old since I met you. Three months since I’ve loved you. And then five years since you changed my life. Years no longer marked the passage of my time. It was you who marked the passage of me.”

“I always had this idea in my head, that I was only worth loving easily. If I diluted all my problems, concealed all my flaws and insecurities to please the ones around me, only then was I deserving of love. But you...” His eyes soften, even more so than they were before. “But you loved me, you loved me on my happy days, and on my darkest ones. You loved me, even when I couldn't understand it, even when I couldn't see what was there to care for in me. So, thank you, for showing me that I am worthy of love, simply because I am me. Thank you for choosing to be patient with me. You don't always know what to do to help, nor do I, but you try, and I try, and isn't that what love is, in the end? To take time out of your day to try, for the person you love?” His voice cracks, as sudden tears wash over his rosy cheeks.

“And I love you. I love to love you. And I cannot not love you, not when my heart beats to the melody of your existence. I promise that even when I’m eighty, I’ll always try to love you better, softer, gentler. I'll never stop trying to be worthy of your love, to be worthy of being yours. Only ever yours.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 minho ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“Angel,” Minho smiles softly, the back of his hand brushing tenderly against your cheek. “I love you, so so much. You know that, right? I probably don't say it as much as I feel it, because I always do. Every second of my existence is spent loving you. Even when I’m not fully awake, and still floating in that hazy space between dreams and consciousness, I can still feel it deep within me that I love you. It is the one thing that ties me back to life itself.”

“And I never... I never imagined that I could adore someone this much. So much that I always think of you, always miss you, even when you're near. Because I feel as if I missed out on years of loving you, back when we didn't know each other. And I- I want to love you, hard enough so it'd feel as if I’ve done it for your entire life.” He's blinking repeatedly, you're surprised he can still read the words scribbled on his paper. You can sense that the tears glistening in his eyes are on the verge of spilling, so you grab his hand and squeeze it gently. 'I'm here', you silently say- he understands.

“Thank you for holding my hand. Now, and every time I’ve needed you. Thank you for being here for me, with me. I... I always thought that people like me were destined to be alone. But- but being with you feels like I’m with myself. There's no need for me to pretend. Thank you for not making me pretend anymore. You are my mirror, you and I are one, and I- I hope...” He brings your hand to his chest, where his heart beats wildly- 'stay with me' it sings to you.

“I hope you can always feel my love for you. Now and when we're too old sitting on the patio of our home, and my hand is still in yours. Because my heart belongs to you, it beats for you and I breathe for you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 changbin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“You're breathtaking,” Changbin whispers in awe, his eyes tracing the contours of your body with each lingering look, like the brush of a skilled artist.

“So are you,” you giggle, but he shakes his head vehemently, drawing nearer to you. “You are the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I can't believe I’m marrying you,” he chuckles in disbelief, before grabbing your hand and twirling you around, showing you off for all to see.

“Look at who I’m marrying!” he shouts with bursting excitement, as he dips you down, his nose grazing yours gently, a soft touch amidst the loud exclamations around you.

“Still sure you want to marry him?!” Seungmin shouts from his seat and you giggle, wrapping your arm around Changbin’s waist. “I do!”

Your laughter gradually fades, as Changbin clears his throat. His head is tilted to the side, a small, incredulous smile drawn on his lips as he contemplates the loveliness of this moment- of marrying you.

“My baby. My beautiful baby. I think this is the happiest day of my life. But again, every day is a happy one with you. I... I've never known that love could be unconditional, that loving someone would feel as simple as breathing. Until you. Loving you doesn't feel like I’m taking something out of my being, and giving it to you. But rather, I’m nurturing something within me, a blossoming tender emotion that grows within my soul. Loving you...” he steps forward, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands. “Loving you makes me happy, immensely happy. Because you are the sunset that makes people stop in their tracks to admire it. You are the beautiful scenery that gives hope to everyone who witnesses it. And you make me feel alive. More than I’ve ever been before you.”

“And I promise...” he pauses, wide eyes trying their best to embrace each feature drawn on your face. “I promise to love you more today than I did yesterday. I promise to shoulder the pain that slips through the cracks in your heart, the one that you try so hard to conceal from me. I promise to hear your silent cries and to hug you until your soul stops bleeding. I promise to see you, even when you try to hide from me. I promise to hurt if it means you'll feel less pain. And I-” his voice trembles as it washes over your old scars, delicately erasing them from your memory.

“I will love you. When the pain seems too big, I will love you. And when your happiness shines the brightest, I will love you. I am madly, irrevocably, desperately in love with you. My heart is tangled in yours.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 hyunjin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“My love,” Hyunjin begins before abruptly stepping forward, pressing his lips onto yours. The kiss is dizzying and sweet, it reminds you of the figs he hand-fed you yesterday- honey dripping down his tongue onto yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispers once he steps back. “I couldn't help myself. You're so pretty,” he admits sheepishly, and you giggle, too in love to ever mind.

“Where was I? Right, hi, my love. Writing these vows was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Not because I didn't know what to say, but there is so much I wish to express, to talk about when it comes to you. How my soul seems to burn for you. How you’re my last love, but also my first, because I don’t think I’ve ever truly loved before you. Not when you are love itself. But I… I found this journal entry, from four years ago. And I want to read it to you.” He clears his throat, a useless attempt to erase the quiver in his voice.

“I used to believe that love was meant to be grandiose. Extravagant gestures and confessions that will seem too magical for any ordinary human. That’s what I craved; a love so big it would overtake my being completely. But... But tonight, you played with my hair as I laid my head on your lap. And we held hands while drinking warm tea on your couch. And it felt enough, more than enough for me to lead a beautiful life. One worth remembering, one worth commemorating. All because it’s with you.

I realize now that I no longer have to search for love all around me, because you hand it to me, so freely, so selflessly. You love me on our extraordinary days and our mundane ones. I never have to second guess it with you. We may be angry, sad, or frustrated, but the love always remains. It's the one emotion that ties us together, that anchors us to one another. My compass. You.

I don't think I ever 'fell' in love with you. Because a fall can never be gentle, it always hurts, even if for a little. And you must always get up afterward, in a minute, in an hour, in a few years. You can't stay down forever. But this, what I feel for you, the emotion that makes my heart beat is tender and soft. It feels like walking inside a home where the light is golden, the windows are wide open, and every past version of me finally finds what it was looking for all along. I want to stay in you for a while. For a long time. For the rest of my life. And I’ll do whatever it takes so you’d let me.

P.S: I am sleeping with a light heart tonight. I hope that, for as long as I’m breathing, you will always too. You deserve it, more than anyone who has ever walked this earth.”

There is a long pause, as Hyunjin’s words hang over the air; they knock the breath out of you but simultaneously fill you with life. You step forward, swiping away his tears gently. He brings your hand to his mouth, soft rosy lips brushing against your knuckles.

“I guess I've been writing my vows since the day I met you,” he smiles softly, delicate love overflowing from him. “Every painting, every journal entry, was to you, by you, for you. Thank you for being my home. Thank you for choosing to love me, every day. Thank you for allowing me to witness the magic that is you. I will forever and always orbit around you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 han ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“Have I ever told you that you're my favorite artist, sweetheart?” Han’s voice is gentle, as he begins speaking. It reminds you of the waves lapping at your feet when he proposed to you. “I feel as if, as soon as you stepped into my life, you began to paint it with the most vibrant colors. The ones I’ve been desperately longing for. Because it is hard… to see the world as a rainbow when you've felt in blacks and whites for so long.” Han’s gaze softens as he spots the tears now trailing down your cheeks. “Shh, don't cry, honey. Or I’ll start crying too, and I don't think I can stop then,” he whispers and you nod, a breathy giggle escaping your lips.

“My mind used to be a scary place. But it no longer is, because it's now filled with thoughts of you. I like to imagine that you planted yourself a little garden there, vibrant tulips and roses. And these flowers may wither down. But they will always bloom again, watered by my love for you, and your love for me. And I hope you know that I... I'll always be there for you too. When the thoughts in your head won't quiet down, I’ll talk for as long as it takes to distract you. And when you want to sit in silence, I’ll be near you, holding your hand. And when you want to be alone, I’ll be there, lingering around the door, within your reach. In whichever shape you want me, you'll get me. I am here, I won't ever leave you.”

“And now I’m crying too” Han chuckles softly, and through the shimmering veil of your tears, you cling to his hand to see.

“I really, really don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I know I’ll try my entire life to be worthy of you. For as long as I’m here then there will always be someone who loves you. Someone who is proud of you; for breathing, for trying, for never giving up. Please never forget that. You are my strength, my peace, my home. You are everything I have ever dreamed of in human form.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 felix ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

The golden rays reflect on Felix’s eyes as he looks down at his paper. A summer wedding- he insisted, his only condition to you. It is ridiculous, you wanted to tell him, to expect it to be any season but summer when he is the sun.

“Hi baby,” he grins, twinkling brown eyes captivating yours. “God, I’m so nervous. I rehearsed this ten times in front of chan. I think he learned it by heart now.” You giggle, as Chan’s laughter travels across the venue. “I’m not usually afraid of speaking in front of people. But you aren't anyone. I guess that's why I’m nervous. You look really beautiful today. This isn't in my papers, I just wanted to tell you. Because you are. You're always beautiful but today you're absolutely breathtaking and I can't believe I’m marrying you. Thank you for saying yes,” he pauses, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “I’m rambling, aren't I?” you nod, a wide grin on your face. You love him.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I... I'm known as the massage fairy, right? I think I might've massaged almost everyone present in this room.” The loud cheers of your friends signal that they agree.

“I used to, I mean, I do it because you get knots in places your hands can't reach, and it feels nice, for someone to ease the ache of your muscles for you. And I always thought that massages were strictly physical. That it just undoes tension in your body, nothing more, nothing less. And I never told you, because it sounded silly in my head. But I knew... I knew I loved you when you massaged my shoulders for the first time. Do you remember, baby?” he asks, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “That was two months into our relationship. Which is fairly early, but time means nothing when it comes to you.”

“My shoulders were sore, and when I told you, you stood behind me instantly. You started to massage my shoulders and I almost cried right there and then. Because your fingers worked delicately, and it felt as if you were kneading your love into my body. You lifted an invisible weight off of me that day, an emotional one. I didn't even know it was there until you touched me. That's how I knew you were different, to me. That your touch wasn't strictly physical, that it reached into depths of my soul, that it soothed aches I’m not even fully aware of,” he pauses, drawing in a deep breath.

“You already know this, but I... I never really learned how to deal with sadness, because it all happens so suddenly with me. One bad thought always brings with it ten others and suddenly I am pulled into a pool of horrible feelings. But your hands keep me afloat until I’m ready to swim by myself again. I think... I think you understand my sadness more than I do. Maybe because you're a part of me, two halves of the same heart.” His voice softens at the last word, as unshed tears glimmer in his eyes.

“I hope, I pray, that my hands massaging your sore shoulders would also reach into your soul and heal its ache. And I know I might not make you feel better, instantly, or in a day, or the following one. But I promise that I won't ever leave, even if the bad times stretch forward. I'll be with you, patiently, just as you do to me. I may not understand myself fully, but I know that my soul was crafted to love you. Every atom in me is yours, and that is enough knowledge for me.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 seungmin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

You take a step forward, brows knitted in concentration as you carefully readjust Seungmin’s black tie. Your hands then glide to his shoulders, smoothing the fabric of his suit. “Nervous?” You ask, and he responds with a subtle nod, planting a chaste kiss upon your forehead.

“Don’t be. It’s just me.”

“It’s never ‘just you’ to me.” He gently holds your chin, dainty fingers commanding a cascade of butterflies inside you. “Just look at me, okay?” You smile tenderly and he nods, taking a step backward.

Seungmin draws in a deep breath, eyes traveling over the entire room before finally settling on you.

“I’ve always liked math. I liked the security that numbers gave me, the exactitude of this science. Because one plus one equals two, and no change in our world, however grand it may be, could ever alter it. I liked things that I could grasp, that I could wrap my head around fully. Tangible rules and formulas. They were my safety net. Until you came into my life. You were the wildest variable I’ve ever encountered, and being near you made me crave things I’ve never known. You pushed me out of my comfort zone, but I wasn't afraid to fall into the unknown, because I knew you'd be there to catch me. So, you became my risks and paradoxically, my safety net, all in one.” He doesn’t look down at his paper- his kind eyes never leave yours, and you’re suddenly the only two humans existing in this world.

“I remember a Tuesday night, two years ago. You slept over at my house, and we didn't do anything special. We just talked a lot, about everything and nothing, just saying whatever crossed our minds. And then you dozed off on my chest. You looked so... Peaceful in my arms, and I was surprised you weren't woken up by my wild heartbeat. Because I suddenly realized that I wanted a forever with you, right there and then.” You both step forward at the same time, hands reaching out blindly to hold one another.

“I’ve always found it a bit weird to crave something to last for a duration that we humans cannot grasp. Everything we know is ephemeral. Everything has a beginning and an end. So, I never really believed in forever, until you. Forever exists because I can't see myself ever not loving you,” a faint hiccup courses through him, as he looks up at the sky- an earnest attempt to stop his tears from falling. It is useless, because once he looks at you again, emotion overtakes him, rippling from him in waves.

“Even- even when we're both no longer here, and my body can no longer contain my soul. Even if I only roam in space eternally, as a small speck of light, my destination would always be you, because my love for you would be the only thing my soul would remember. The core foundation of my being, the essence of who I am is my love for you, and even if everything around me fades, the love for you will stay.” His forehead presses onto yours, a last whisper, only meant for you- “My eternity is you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 jeongin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

Jeongin's lips graze the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse dances in fervor- for him alone. He looks self-assured, as he lets go of your hand to take out a paper from his pocket. But there is a faint blush tainting his cheeks; it travels down his neck when he clears his throat.

“Baby,” he starts, voice hoarse from barely hidden emotion- the notes of it settle inside your heart. “I don't know where we will be many years down the road, or what we will be doing. But I know that there are things that won't change between us. I know that I’ll listen to all your rants about your favorite show, and I’ll buy you ice cream when you're craving it at 3 a.m. I will still buy two bottles of my shampoo because you love to use mine more than yours. And I like it when you carry a part of me with you, even in such a subtle way. I will still give you my jacket, even when you insist you aren't cold, but I can tell, because I know you. I will...” He sucks in a deep breath, as his vision grows blurry from the tears in his waterline.

“I will make you coffee in the morning, exactly how you like it, down to how many ice cubes you use. I will warm up your towel as you shower and I will fold your laundry because I know you hate doing it. And I- I will hold your hand when we cross the road, and in crowded places, and in the lines of every coffeeshop we’ll go to. I will run my fingers down your spine when you're about to sleep, and I will-” Jeongin's tears splatter across the paper, smudging its black ink. His lips are quivering, as the paper shakes in his hands.

“I will kiss your tiny bruises and remind you to breathe on- on days where...” Jeongin crumples the paper in his hand as he finally looks at you. He’s crying, a stream of tears trailing down his cheeks like a floodgate that isn't planning on stopping. “On days where it seems impossible to.” He finishes, the words he's written long forgotten by him. He didn't need to read them when he had you in front of him- the sole holder of his love.

“And I will hug you tight on nights when your sadness feels bigger than what your body can contain. And when words don't seem to make sense in your head, I’ll- I’ll listen to you, I’ll understand you, I’ll learn you. And I will love you. I will love you and I’ve loved you and I love you. And I- I wish there was a word bigger than love to describe how I feel for you. Because four letters never seem enough when it comes to you. But I am yours, body, heart, and soul. Wherever you go I follow. Till the ends of the earth, I'll be there.”

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lorarri · 2 months

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★ . . . 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐁𝐅 , 𝐘𝐓𝟐𝟐

summary , it's yuki's birthday and his girlfriend just had to make every single person in the world feel even more single than normal

pairing , yuki tsunoda x fem! gf! bookworm! reader

main masterlist | f1 masterlist | yuki tsunoda masterlist

yourinstagram . 4hr ago

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yourinstagram

liked by yukitsunoda0511 pierregasly 12,667,378 others

yourinstagram Dear yukitsunoda0511, happy birthday I can't believe that you have been mine for three years now. It feels like yesterday that we met at that bookstore in Paris, where you spilt your coffee all over my favourite hoodie. And now with confidence I can say with confidence that it was worth it, you make me feel peaceful and whole. I hope you get everything your heart desires today. And that includes me. Your girl, Y/N L/N.

親愛なるユキ、お誕生日おめでと��。あなたがもう 3 年も私のものだなんて信じられません。パリの本屋で会ったとき、あなたが私のお気に入りのパーカーにコーヒーをこぼしてしまったことが昨日のことのように感じられます。そして今、私は自信を持って、その価値があったと自信を持って言えます。あなたは私を平和で健全な気分にさせてくれます。今日、あなたが心から望むすべてを手に入れられることを願っています。そしてそれには私も含まれます。あなたの彼女、Y/N L/N。

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user yuki is the only driver who’s enjoying life to the fullest with his hot gf - eating all the good food traveling around the world love that for him

yukitsunoda0511 I'm sorry about hoodie I'll buy you a new one ⤷ yourinstagram a new hoodie? no. I want one of your's please 😊 ⤷ yukitsunoda0511 okay baby now come cuddle with me ⤷ yourinstagram on my way 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

user pov the second pic is your dream ⤷ user Y/N FR LIVING MY DREAM

user happy birthday short king

user they are both barbie neither of them are ken 😭😭😭

user "liked by pierre gasly" ⤷ yourinstagram lurking as always 🙄 ⤷ pierregasly got a problem? ⤷ yourinstagram yeah with your face ⤷ pierregasly wow what a creative insult what are you 5 ⤷ yourinstagram listen here fuck french fuck I would smoke you in a fight now shut the fuck up and eat a baggette ⤷ pierregasly your mean...go play monopoly ⤷ yourinstagram esteban is my fav french ⤷ pierregasly you have gone to far ⤷ estebanocon thank you Y/N 😊

user So pretty yuki 🔥🔥🔥

user STOP THEY ARE SO CUTE

user brb I'm gonna go sleep with me on the highway ⤷ user gonna go take a bath with my toaster ⤷ user I feel like having a nice big tall glass of bleech ⤷ user suddenly I wanna skydive without a parachute ⤷ user I'm gonna jump off a moving train ⤷ yourinstagram mom pick me up I'm scared 😭😭😭

user So beautiful 💓🤩

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yourinstagram . 2hr ago

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iwaasfairy · 4 days

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dilf iwa bday sex !!!!

YeA YEA YEAAAA

just a quick lil thing for mY LOVE THE FIRE IN MY LOINS THE BEAT OF MY HEART Idk it’s so early I will revisit this w actual thoughts latER

tw daddy kink, breeding, implied age gap

“Happy birthday, Daddy.” Your grin is as coy as it is genuine, grabbing his bicep to teasingly squeeze, as Hajime’s brows furrow.

“Stop that.” He’s too busy finishing the French toast to look at you proper, but a slight blush still makes it’s way onto his ears. He looks so good with his shorter hair, undercut exposing more of his neck. Instead you place kisses onto his arm and repeat it, a few times — until those pretty olive eyes find your face when he finishes up cooking. “Stop calling me that. Go sit.”

“But you are,” you pout instead, picking one of the strawberries from the bowl to go lean against the table instead. “I can’t think you’re sexy anymore because you’re so much more mature than me now?” Hajime follows you with his eyes, before crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Want me to make you a daddy for real, daddy~?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, before he walks over to before you and towers like he does. His broad frame stands over you as you lean back onto your arms a bit more, let him brush a hand along your cheek and throat. Instead of brushing past his fingers ghost over your neck, the same one still bruised and full of marks — he can’t help himself. The raspy voice takes you aback, deep and steady and demanding. “Don’t tease me like this. You’re being a brat.”

You can never truly fluster him anymore. Hajime only raises his brows a little, as a tiny grin slips on when he leans in. “If you want me to hold you down and fuck the attitude out of you, you just gotta ask, baby.” His lips brush along your cheek to your ear, laying a meanly brief kiss there. “‘Daddy, daddy’ me all you want. If I breed you full right here, you’re not gonna complain, right? If I fuck this pretty, little cunt ��til you go stupid?”

Your tongue gets stuck on the words, instead fluttering your long lashes up at him as he stares back at you so intensely. “Quiet already? I thought you had a lot to say. Hm?” The push of his thumb on your throat has you opening your mouth, and Hajime just chuckles. His other hand comes to squeeze your cheeks, then runs the pad of this thumb over your bottom lip and slips it into your mouth.

The glitter in his eyes is so sexy. “Go on. Call me daddy again.”

#honey mail #tw.daddy kink #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.iwaizumi

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sharlsworld · 3 months

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birthday girl - f1 grid

⍟ charles leclerc x fem!wolff!reader

⍟ it’s an f1 holiday, y/n wolff’s birthday. a series of birthday posts made by a bunch of people involved with f1.

fc: various girls from pinterest

warnings: none really tbh just a age gap (it’s my fathers fault for making me like this)

authors note: idk what i’m doing i’m bored out of my mind and have nothing better to do. lmk if i should keep doing these or not, p.s there’s google translated french and spanish 😭

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55 and 6,938,012 others

charles_leclerc Mon cœur, mon amour, mon trésor, there truly aren’t enough words in the human vocabulary to describe my love for you. I’ve had my eye on you before we even spoke to each other, there’s no doubt in my mind that we will spend eternity together. Here’s to another year around the sun, happy 22nd birthday chérie, my love for you is infinite. ♥️

yn thank you honey, i love you bigger then the sky 💘

↳ charles_leclerc My love for you is everlasting chérie ♥️

landonorris you two make me sick

↳ yn good stay stick

scuderiaferrari Happy birthday y/n! Wishing you a year full of happiness and health beautiful girl! ❤️🥳

♥︎ by author & yn

sharls_lerklerk “there’s no doubt in my mind that we will spend eternity together” the highways lookin real cozy 🥰🥰

charlotte2304 Happy birthday beautiful y/n I love you to the moon and back 💞

♥︎ by author & yn

yn you really like those faceless pictures huh? 😭

↳ charles_leclerc I just love your hair so much chérie

arthur_leclerc and to think that 4 years ago you were blushing at the fact she even looked at you

↳ lorenzotl He still does

lordperceval him not responding to anyone’s comment accept hers 😭

lewishamilton

liked by glenpowell and 5,182,732 others

lewishamilton My honorary sister, i’ve known you since you were 10 years old and it’s been so amazing watching you grow into such a good person. Thank you for always supporting me, baking me sweets and making sure I don’t get growled at for eating so much sugar, celebrating with me, watching roscoe, and always being there for me no matter what. Happy birthday y/n, I couldn’t have asked for a better honorary sister than you. I love you to the moon and back ❤️

yn thank you so much lew, your the big brother i never got. i love you so so much 💞

♥︎ by author

beloved.hamilton i hold there sibling duo so close to my heart 🥹

mercedesamgf1 Our paddock princess!! Wishing you the happiest birthday sweetheart 🥰💙

♥︎ by author & yn

futurewag822 i love how everyone loves y/n cause same 😭

georgerussell63 Awh you old sap, happy birthday y/n i love you lots thank you for always being so sweet and supportive 💙

♥︎ by author & yn

↳ yn thank you george i love you 💞

carlossainz55

liked by olliebearman and 1,092,566 others

carlossainz55 Mi querida amiga, feliz cumpleaños! I wish you nothing but the best in life, i’ve never met someone as sweet, welcoming, caring, and funny as you. I will always cherish our friendship, I cannot wait to make more memories with you in the years to come. Te quiero mucho mi querida amiga ❤️

yn thank you carlito i love you bunches ❤️

♥︎ by author

hoeforsainzzz i want to be like y/n when i grow up no cappy 😭

charles_leclerc Why do you have so many pictures of me and y/n?

↳ carlossainz55 It’s my job as the third wheel mate

↳ yn your the best third wheel carlito

landonorris all i got for my birthday was a “happy birthday lando!” 😐 but she gets a WHOLE PARAGRAPH

↳ yn just say your jealous

carlossainzoficial Feliz cumpleaños y/n! Enjoy your special day ❤️

↳ yn thank you better carlos ❤️

↳ carlossainz55 wow.

landonorris

liked by tomholland2013 and 1,223,704 others

landonorris happy birthday short stack, your one rude but funny, mean but pretty, ruthless but kind hearted girl. thank you for making me feel tall, if you ever find yourself single one day, you have my number 😉 i love you bunches y/n ❤️

charles_leclerc thats not funny 😐 no one’s laughing.

yn thank you norizz 🥹 i love you many bunches more ❤️

↳ charles_leclerc don’t make me lock you in the room all day

mclaren Happy birthday to our favorite guest! Your welcome anytime y/n 😉🧡

↳ scuderiaferrari No. She’s not aloud to leave us ever.

↳ mercedesamgf1 Are we forgetting who raised her? 🤣

↳ yn guys stop there’s enough of me for everyone 🤗

↳ charles_leclerc N O.

alex_albon she makes charles look tall

↳ charles_leclerc My ego is hurt

landolove all the admins fighting over y/n made my week 😭

oscarpiastri Happy birthday y/n 🧡

↳ yn thank you osc ❤️

lilymhe

liked by alex_albon and 907,125 others

lilymhe wishing my best friend an amazing birthday, i’m forever grateful for f1 bringing us together. i’ve never had such an amazing friend like you, i hold our friendship so close to my heart. i love you past the moon and beyond the stars ❤️

yn i love you lily ❤️

↳ lilymhe i love you more 😘❤️

alex_albon happy birthday ig, your pretty funny ig. your a good friend ig and amazing baker ig. I GUESS i love you. ❤️🙄

↳ yn i guess i love you 🙄 thank you ig ❤️

charles_leclerc lily you are not invited to dinner tonight. i would like to spend the night with my girlfriend and not watch her spend the whole night with you and kika

↳ lilymhe just mad your girl loves me & kika more then you 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

↳ francisca.cgomes bro thinks that’s his girlfriend 🤣🤣🤣🤣

↳ yn can’t wait to see you lovely ladies tonight 😉

↳ charles_leclerc PLEASE stop

↳ pierregasly we’re BEGGING

↳ alex_albon on our KNEES

francisca.cgomes

liked by pierregasly and 920,104 others

francisca.cgomes my dearest friend, you’ve helped me more in more ways then you’ll ever know. i’ve been so lucky to call you my best friend since we were little girls, i love you so so so much y/n. happy birthday big booty judy ❤️

yn i love you for infinity kika ❤️

♥︎ by author

↳ francisca.cgomes i love you more then infinity ❤️

pierregasly happy birthday to the biggest pain in my ass i love you ❤️

♥︎ by author & yn

↳ yn thanks for always distributing my beauty sleep pear i love you more ❤️

landosfootfungus i want to be y/n

↳ danielricciardo me too 😔

charles_leclerc big booty indeed

♥︎ by author

lilymhe our little girl is growing up on us 🥹

↳ francisca.cgomes times flying 😔

iheartyn big booty judy 😭

liked by maxverstappen1 and 20,077,284

f1 Before the day is over we would love to wish our paddock princess a very happy 22nd birthday! We hope your day was filled with nothing but love and happiness, we hope your day was as perfect as you are! 🤍

yn thank you admin 🥹❤️

♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1 Happy birthday to the biggest pain in my ass. I love you more then you know y/n ❤️

♥︎ by author

↳ yn max…this is the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me 🥹❤️

olliebearman Happy birthday y/n, thank you for being so kind and baking me so much sweets i’ll definitely get a talking to about 😂❤️

♥︎ by author

↳ yn don’t worry ollie i won’t let your trainer growl at you 😭

fernandoalo_oficial Happy birthday to my favorite girl ever ❤️

♥︎ by author

↳ yn nando stop 🥹 I LOVE YOU

↳ fernandoalo_oficial I LOVE YOU MORE Y/N 😂❤️

danielricciardo Happy birthday sunshine, i love you lots. Pretty glad to know someone like you 🌞

♥︎ by author

↳ yn i love you more danny ❤️

yukitsunoda0511 Happy birthday y/n thank you for always making me laugh ❤️

♥︎ by author

↳ yn thank you yuki ❤️

i got lazy towards the end 😭 lmk what you think.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smau #f1 x reader #fernando alonso #daniel ricciardo #lewis hamilton #lando norris #yuki tsunoda #pierre gasly #f1 smau #alex albon #carlos sainz #charles leclerc imagine

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

The birthday gift Robin gets from her parents is that they’re gonna help her fund a three month solo trip to Paris. Steve thinks she should be delivering this news with much more excitement than she currently is.

“Okay, but you’re going, right?” he says, as she bites her nails for the third time. When she doesn’t reply, he lifts his eyes to the heavens, despairing. “Oh my god, are you kidding? Robin, you’ve wanted this for—”

“Years,” she confirms, so quietly. “I want—” She swallows. “I want it so badly, Steve.”

He pauses, drops their usual teasing schtick. “Okay,” he says, a little softer. “What��s going on?”

“It’s just…” She moves her hand away from her mouth, tugs on a hangnail. “What if—what if something… happens. And I’m not…” She gestures vaguely. “Not here.”

Steve slings an arm over her shoulder. “Rob,” he says, “nothing’s gonna happen.”

Robin nods. “I know, I know.”

But then she sighs, and Steve understands: it’s one thing to know something objectively, another thing to feel the certainty in your bones.

He has a wave of gratitude for Robin’s parents, for them knowing that she needs this, for letting her have a year out, maybe even two, without judgement. It’s something they all need, really, in different ways: some time to let the weight of everything settle, to catch their breath.

Steve’s honestly been relishing the mundanity of it all, the comfort of routine—easy days where the biggest ‘disaster’ is him being late for their opening shift at Family Video.

“Keith’s keeping your job open for you, right?” Steve asks, just in case that’s a sticking point.

Robin nods again, laughing. “Yeah, mom arranged that all before she even booked the flights. Well, I think she just basically told him that—”

“So it’s gonna be a super long vacation.” Steve gives her knee a reassuring little shake, before tickling the back of it. “Jesus, Robin, if you don’t go, I’ll go for you.”

Robin snorts and wiggles out of his grip. “Shut up.”

“And I’ll speak French so badly that I’ll just get banned for life, like, right outta the gate, it’ll be tragic—”

“I’ve got the picture, dingus,” she says, and she’s smiling—finally, finally there’s a spark of excitement in her eyes.

And that excitement only grows as her flight date gets closer, as she calls Steve the week before, begging him to be the one to take her to the airport, because, “My dad took one look at my suitcase and burst into tears, please Steve, the man can’t do this.”

And then Steve’s pulling up to her driveway, and she’s already waiting for him, perched on her suitcase. She’s wearing a cobalt blue beret, and Steve loves her so much he thinks his heart might burst with it.

For a while, it’s all grins and laughter, Steve giggling every time he edges out of the driveway, and Robin’s mom stops him, frantically waving, asking if Robin’s got everything, did you pack that other coat, honey?

Then it feels like time rushes forward—they’re at the airport, and Steve gets out of the car to fetch Robin’s case from the trunk, but she’s already got it, is already standing in the parking lot, eyes wide.

“What’s gonna happen now?” she whispers.

Steve’s heart clenches; the last time she’d asked that had been as they sped to the hospital, Robin gripping his hand so tightly as Eddie lay unconscious.

Steve puts both hands on her shoulders. “You’re gonna have the best time,” he says, deadly serious, “and then you’re gonna come back and tell me all about it.”

She laughs, right on the edge of becoming tearful. “O-okay.” She blinks several times.

“Don’t,” Steve says, faux-warningly, “or you’ll set me off, too.”

And it’s only partly a joke.

“Okay,” Robin says again, and then she’s hugging Steve tight, pressing a damp kiss to his cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

“God, me too. Every day.” Steve rocks her back and forth, makes sure her beret doesn’t get dislodged with the force of the hug.

When they break apart, Robin picks up her case—she pauses, then grins.

“Now, if you’ll just point me in the right direction…”

Steve chuckles. He spins her around so she’s facing the airport, then pats her on the back.

She starts walking.

Steve stays right where he is; he knows she’ll look back right at the last second—ah, there she goes. He shakes his head, laughs. Waves.

He drives back alone.

When he gets home, he barely has time to even think about it, because the kids have biked over after school, clamouring for him to order pizza from the moment he opens the front door, and Eddie’s shrugging apologetically with a grin, and it’s only later that Steve realises that the whole thing was probably coordinated beforehand.

And he’s fine, really, he’s absolutely fine until he steps into the hall to use the phone, and he unthinkingly orders the pizza him and Robin usually share: one half with pepperoni, the other half with mushrooms.

And then he has to finish the rest of the phone call with a lump in his throat, and when he hangs up, Eddie is watching him with a sad kind of smile.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“Don’t. Don’t be nice to me, goddamn it.” Steve shuts his eyes. “I was fine, I was fine.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie knocks their foreheads together gently. “I’ll miss her, too.”

And God, missing Robin does hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the joy Steve feels whenever he receives a letter from her. He laughs himself stupid the first time, because instead of just using sheets of paper, she’s sent multiple postcards wrapped in an elastic band, her handwriting all squished so she can fit everything in.

She writes like she talks, all rambling enthusiasm, and Steve cherishes every word.

He can tell she’s having so much fun. She enthuses about little cafés she’s found, a bookstore near Notre Dame; she spends multiple pages on art galleries, how she has the time to wander, to look at a painting again and again until the meaning reveals itself, it was like when I solved that ‘crossword’ in the mall, it suddenly just clicked, you know? I need you here next time, you’ll look at it from another angle, I wanna know what you think.

She sends Polaroids, too. There’s one of her in a white shirt with a trilby hat at a jaunty angle—Steve can tell she’s been in the sun, because there’s freckles all over the bridge of her nose. On the back of the photograph, she’s written Had a carefree kiss!

And Steve cries when he reads it, because he knows what it means: that Robin’s often spoken wistfully about how she’s never got to have that fleeting summer kind of love, where nothing is all that serious.

But she’s still so young, and life is finally light, and she gets to have it now.

Other photographs are sent to Eddie, with instructions that he should translate the French Robin’s written on them, à force de pratique, on y arrive, mon cher Édouard!

“I said literally once that French at school wasn’t, like, the worst,” Eddie says, pouting. “Didn’t realise that meant she was gonna torture me from across the world.” He frowns at a picture of Robin petting a grey cat, a bowl of food at its little paws. “And I tried translating whatever the fuck she’s written here, but I can’t work it out.”

“Not even a guess?” Steve says.

“I mean, yeah, but it sounds so stilted, man, I know it’s wrong. Like, who actually says where the silver cat feeds—you dick, stop laughing! What’s so funny?”

Two months pass, and Robin’s back soon, but not soon enough to catch Steve’s birthday. It’s not like he wants to have a huge party, anyway—he goes to Wayne and Eddie’s for dinner, and discovers Dustin leading a not-so successful ‘secretly bake a birthday cake,’ meeting at Max’s.

Everyone’s on their second slice of cake when the phone rings, and Steve knows instantly who it is from the way Eddie shouts, “Huh? What?”, like there’s a delay on the line. Then he beams and shouts, “Steve! Got a long distance call for you.”

Steve’s over in a flash.

“I promise I’ve got you something,” Robin says, slightly muffled—every so often a word will cut out, but Steve gets the gist. “I swear, I’m not awful, I was gonna post it, but then I had no idea how many stamps I’d need, and I didn’t wanna risk losing it forever to, like, the nightmare limbo of customs, so I thought when I come back, I can—”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve laughs, “you didn’t need to get me anything. This is the best present ever.”

“Oh, gross,” Robin says cheerfully. “You’re all sentimental in your old age. Happy Birthday, Steve.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, and the lump in his throat is back, but it’s not so bad; he can breathe through it. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And then there’s a sound that Steve at first thinks is just from the bad quality of the line, but then he realises it’s Robin trying to stifle a yawn; “Wait, Jesus, isn’t it, like, two in the morning over there? Go to bed!”

She doesn’t listen, of course—they keep chatting, everyone in the room wants a turn on the phone, Robin teasing Eddie relentlessly for his French pronunciation.

And as Steve ends the call, he finds that the hurt of missing her has faded away into something else—knowing that there’ll be comings and goings in their lives all the time, adventures they’ll share and adventures they won’t. But they’ll always, always find their way back to one another.

Steve sets the phone into its cradle, pictures Robin doing the very same so many miles away.

Yeah, we’re gonna be just fine, you and me, Steve thinks, and feels the certainty of it right in his bones.

#steve and robin #steve and robin fic #steve and robin ficlet #robin buckley fic #steve harrington fic #eddie and robin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #background steddie

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missydior · 6 days

Text

love letters ౨ৎ

♡: an eternity of silent, mutual yearning and friendship that flourishes into something new when feelings are finally confessed.

notes: charles leclerc/reader, friends to lovers, humour, fluff, confessions.

type: smau & writing ・ fc: lila moss

a/n: my favourite trope ever mwah 🤍🤍 this feels a little messy and stuff but I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you feel the love all over it I have, ily

liked by friendusername, charlesleclerc and 313,983 others

yourusername: hello from the birthday girl here <3 thank you so much for all of the kind messages, wishes & gifts. sending lots of love

3,122 comments

friendusername: happy bday to our favourite girl ever 🍰🫶🏼

yourusername: 🤍🤍🤍

user1: happy birthday to our favourite paddock princessss

charlesleclerc: did you like the cake I bought you then, or?

yourusername: I loved it until you threw half of it in my face

charlesleclerc: it tasted nicer that way

franciscagomes: bday girl !!

yourusername: i love youu

franciscagomes: i love you more 🤍

pierregasly: what about me?

franciscagomes: today is about y/n. shush.

I. Your Birthday.

After hours spent with café au lait and too much maple syrup on pancakes in the morning with gift receiving and wishes, a quiet luncheon with those closest to your heart, enjoying the beauty of the shores and rosé champagne, evening eventually settles in a beautiful colour against the heavens of Monaco.

You have never been one for the dramatics or high attention of crowds, settling on an intimate celebratory affair amongst close friends and family: pretty dresses and glasses of Lavender French '75 or those strawberry daiquiris that Ésme is in love with; a sweet, favourite song heard in the background.

Charles arrives fashionably late, the collar of his white-linen shirt loosened and soft, dark-brunet hair slightly tousled as he comes near, the sight of a smile on his face you've always loved, dimples revealed.

There is a certain relief that comes with being graced by his presence, like you had been silently longing and waiting for his greeting before anybody else's, though you disguise it from any chance of teasing.

"(Y/N)," Your name rolls off his tongue like caramel, accentuated as he shifts to kiss both your cheeks in friendly affection before he chuckles at your expression, "Happy birthday." Mon ange.

"Thank you," You breathe, a laugh falling past your mouth at the sight of him in manifestation, inclining your head when you look at him through your lashes, "I was beginning to think you forgot."

"Forget? Me?" The Monegasque exclaims as though wounded, placing his hand to his chest though the smile about his sun-kissed visage never dissipates, stealing a nearby glass of champagne, "Never. I had some work to finish."

There is an edge of teasing beneath your looks, a dance of butterflies in your stomach when he touches the small of your back fleetingly as he shifts past with that signature wink of his, all friendly and humorous in years of friendship, and yet your heart stutters.

You almost say something else, confessions and thoughts that want to erupt from your chest like love letters you have never sent – certain it is merely the liquor fogging your judgement – but he's wandered away with a final promise before a syllable can come forth.

"Let me get the birthday girl a drink, oui?"

liked by franciscagomes and 311,646 others

yourusername: july with my favourite people <3

mentioned charlesleclerc, friendusername, franciscagomes and two others

1,354 comments

user1: literal angels

user2: second pic is definitely y/n and charles

friendusername: you still owe me another ice cream 🍨

yourusername: sorry bby, i’ll be at your front door with a double vanilla ice cream soon <3

franciscagomes: 🤍🤍

II. At the beach.

Warm light kisses your skin like heavenly delight, a forgotten copy of Paris' Vogue beside where you are currently bathing with a finished strawberry lemonade, long lashes fluttering when you open your eyes to gaze at the skies above in the heat of July, a mosaic of white and cerulean about the Côte d'Azur.

Most of the others have momentarily departed for the nearby café for new sweet treats, though you are consciously aware of a half-dozing Charles Leclerc nearby against the slight flush down the bridge of his nose and eyelashes that ghost about his cheekbones where he is lying.

Pure bliss; perfect heaven.

"Charles?"

It takes him a second, the mention of his name rousing him to blink out of a hazy hint of a dream with the tilt of his chin towards the direction of your voice that calls to him like an angel's symphony, squinting against the haze of light before a lazy, boyish smile reveals his pearlescent teeth, "Mm?"

Shifting upright, consciously trying not to stare at him for too long though you have come to simply welcome and fall used to the sight of his naked chest, all smooth ridges and lean muscle, you absently adjust the ribbons of your pretty bikini and reach for sun cream.

"Do you think you could help me put some on my back, please?" You ask politely, offering him the item whilst shifting on your knees and gathering the edges of your hair over your shoulder that have fallen loose.

He does not respond initially, not until he's sat upright and shifted closer with a kind edge of a smile that dances across his face, "Oui."

Charles does not hesitate or take advantage of the circumstances, applying the fine lotion against the curve of your shoulders with gentle ministrations and lower down, fingertips feather-light, careful not to linger too long.

The act feels oddly intimate as you gaze towards the serene shores, like his touch is meant for the most secret parts of you, an unconscious shiver and the subtle arching of your vertebrae when he traces a particular area. Whether he notices or not, there is no indication given, instead continuing in a method that seems entirely platonic but leaves an ache in your stomach.

"Merci," You tell him once the deed is most finished and he draws away, shifting just enough to offer a look of him from the corner of your eye in a gratuitous smile.

You wonder if how his gaze lingers is the same way yours does, like a painting worth admiring or a flower in emergence, heart thrumming quicker under your sternum before the moment is broken when he clears his throat.

"Of course."

III. A dinner.

Caffè Milano, a quaint but fanciful and warm establishment tucked in the quiet luxuries of Monaco's principality with its dancing chandeliers, oak-varnished furniture and beloved menu.

A semblance of familiarity, pleasantry and polished glasses clinking against the rhythm of conversation amongst friends in the warm afternoon: a lingering aroma of roses from the centrepiece décor neatly arranged and fine cuisine.

"– Non, I am not lying," Pierre is recounting a recent, humorous anecdote of experience, thumb idly tracing the edge of his wine glass whilst you and the others listen on, your cheeks beginning to hurt from how much you have laughed in the recent half-an hour, idly toying with the necklace resting at the hollow of your throat in common fashion.

"You are." Francisca frowns, albeit fondly.

Your concentration is removed from their talk when there is a subtle caress against the ankle bone, a touch beneath the furniture and a fleeting glance from your peripheral sight at the Monégasque beside you, all handsome smiles and that addictive song of laughter whilst a stray hair falls about his eyebrow, though he does not seem to show any degree of deliberation or notice that his shoe idly touches you there.

You have the urge to hold him, caress him, to press a thousand, butterfly kisses along his jaw and say something you should not. Instead, you continue to listen and nurse the last of your Château-Chalon.

1,596 likes

f1gossip: y/n at the grand prix this weekend <3 our paddock princess is back

mentioned yourusername

333 comments

user1: she looks divineee

user2: charles and y/n friends to lovers when?

user3: leave them alone, they’re just friends and have been since childhood

IV. A balcony.

Charles had forgotten his keys somewhere and, until his dear brother could come and return them, you had offered the warmth of your welcomed apartment: all minimalist but homely in décor against a palette of cream, white and the like all complemented by paintings and furniture.

One hour had melted into two by the late afternoon with dusk's slow kiss, hints of lilac and grey in the edge of the skies, your cats curled contently on the plush chaise lounge and resting after endless affections from the Monégasque who seemed to be in love with them.

"Can I join you?"

The voice – honest and clear, albeit a fraction amused – is recognisable as you are drawn out of reverie on the balcony of rocaille motifs, gazing into quiet streets below and the nearby public gardens flourishing with flora, gnawing at your inner cheek as you look to the man where he leans against the threshold, a look in his eye that comes with a subtle indulgence after he stole your favourite bottle of rosé in the kitchenette.

"Of course, yes." Always.

He stands beside you, a few inches apart with his elbow resting against the intricate balustrade when he follows your dreamy stare for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. There is a comfort between the two of you, something you know must come from years of familiarity:

An seemingly endless, innocent youth that manifested in its complications as you aged and neared adolescence, like an evening primrose that flowers and sometimes falls apart, but always returns, even changing with senescence. With age.

You can feel his gaze, almost like an internal, silent imploration for your own, the edges of your fingers and nails polished in a rose quartz-esque varnish that glitters prettily in the evening, and his lips are parted just enough as if wanting to say something before they curve a little higher on the edges, his words hushed.

"Have you ever thought about love?"

Your eyebrows raise a fraction, though it is not so unexpected of a question and one that has been on the edge of your tongue since forever, even with the doubtful inkling that he has merely enjoyed too much wine.

"Sometimes," All of the time. You murmur, a soft, breathless chuckle following as you shrug and tilt your head upwards, gazing above like some wished answer or instruction from the angels or whoever listens, "Why do you ask?"

"Because," His response is delayed, though his answer is sincere and thoughtful like he has been thinking over his words since a time he can't remember until his fingertips touch your elbow fleetingly, "I can't stop thinking about it."

There is a moment, a single fragment, in which you meet his eyes, his touch is known and everything seems to pause like a finished painting, a still image in a history book: his hand, his body and his eyes – the colour of autumn, earth, hints of something else so unique to him.

"Charles, what are you saying?" You laugh softly, looking away momentarily and toying with the knitted wool of your soft cardigan with the kind of feigned indifference that comes with disguising truth, "I didn't think you were a romantic, who has caught your eye?"

For a moment, you wish he would say someone's name, a blessed girl that you have never heard of, so that you can deny your own feelings and settle on the painful reality that you are merely friends.

Instead, his gaze flickers, almost nervously, and a palm cradles the curve of your cheek and jaw with the hesitance of a man of conflicting considerations even when he tries to smile a little. "Please, forgive me."

There is not an instance given to allow any insistence or inquiry as Charles presses a kiss upon your mouth: it is not rushed and there is a desperation there that is not greedy, tasting the remnants of your lipstick and rosé, slow and methodical – longer when you indulge and welcome the feeling.

He does not draw away completely when the feeling ends, his forehead lightly pressed to yours and his touch a little firmer where his fingers curl into your hair, swallowing slowly as his eyes close for a moment until he dares meet your stare once more.

"(Y/N)?"

You smile.

"Je t'aime." There is something in his face you have never seen before, something raw and open like an unfurling rose revealing itself, and you know that your heart is his and his alone.

Another kiss with your prompting, fingertips tracing the soft cotton of his shirt near the shoulder until you drape arms about his shoulders, breathing him in with hints of raspberry, amber and cinnamon, "I love you."

There is poetry in his eyes like those unsent love letters shoved under your pillow, and he delves in, holding you close and intimate until you're most certain, mutually, of the silent yearning you have felt for one another for years.

"C'mere," He mumbles, an arm drawing around the back of your thighs as he picks you up and holds you securely, and you cannot help but laugh in pure, unadulterated glee at his touch and affections, the bottle of rosé abandoned as the night settles in and you are whisked away.

He loves you.

♡ ✧ 。*・.

a/n: please don't forget to interact, like, etc. <3

#𝜗𝜚 my works #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 x female reader #f1 fluff #f1 x you #f1 fic #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff

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circeyoru · 3 months

Text

{Unwanted Soul} Masterlist

(it got too long in my Masterlist, so I had to open a new one...)

Pairing: [Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Main Story:

Part 1 — The Beginning of It All

Part 2 — Welcome Back

Part 2.5 (ask) — Knowing about the contract & Your scenes in Hazbin

Part 3 — Time Away From Home

Part 4 — Realizing & Accepting

Part 5 — Confession From The Heart

Part 6 — The Giver's Perspective

Part 7 — Reveal the Storm

Part 8 — Technological Dealings

Part 9 — The Cat Makes Its Appearance

Part 10 — Clean Up & Reveals

Trivia Asks:

— Songs vibing with the story

— What if Alastor's soul is returned?

— Hotel crew's reaction to finding out about the relationship + What if more yanderes?

— What if you gave Alastor your soul? Alastor's perception of it

— Short!Alastor imagine

— What if you die? Alastor's reaction

— Short!Alastor imagine II

— What if you were redeemed for saving Alastor from Adam?

— Dating Lucifer and Alastor?? (very very short)

— Alastor's reaction to you being flirted/harassed

— Musical Hell and Music lover you

— Reader's romantic view on Alastor? & Toying with feelings?

— Kisses in public for Alastor!??!!

— Declaration of love from you

— Slow to warm you & Alastor's reaction

— A date with Alastor

— Hotel members questioning your and Alastor's relationship

— Small rivalry with Cursed Cat Alastor

— Hotel members & Mimzy's reaction to you dating Alastor

— Continuation of redeemed you back in Hell

— Lucifer tells Alastor you're more powerful than you look + Demon design

— Redeemed Alastor after saving you from Adam

— You and a little visitor named KeeKee

— Angel snatching you away from Alasto

— You saved Cursed Cat Alastor, now you have two!

— Additional outfit inspiration for your demon design

— Cursed Cat Alastor VS Alastor: "Cat or me?!"

— Appreciate Alastor please

— Lore before your quill + Redeemed!Alastor Part 2

— Costume dress-up suggestions / theme

— What if you're physically clingy to Alastor?

— Accidentally hurting you while throwing Angel

— No cuddles while you binge-watch anime?

— Your interest in Black Butler | Alastor VS Sebastian??

— Alastor acts the way your favourite characters do

— Your past and career? + Powers & abilities lore

— Do you remember? Redeemed Alastor

— You and Alastor dancing

— You get hurt by some demon

— No angst for redeemed you & battling Adam

— Bambi shows favouritism to only you

— Anniversary with you and Alastor

— "Pokemon Alastor, I choose you!"

— Birthday celebrations?

— Someone broke Alastor's precious radio gift from you

— What if redeemed you got Alastor out of that insane phase?

— You dress up like a princess or evening gown

— Your interest in historical anime/manga

— Are you, by chance, a songwriter as well when alive? + Weakness

— Summoning Cursed Cat Alastor?! + Limitation to power

— How did the hotel crew learn not to disturb your dates?

— You and learning French to one-up Alastor

— What if redeemed you forgave Alastor

Polls:

1: Alastor's battle with Adam (ended)

2: Next Storyline of the Story (ended)

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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alottiegoingon · 20 days

Text

hc!friends to lovers

lottie matthews x fem!reader

summary: going from friends to lovers with lottie

warnings: lottie mentioned as lesbian once, pure fluff, nsfw at the bottom so MDNI there, not proofread

this was a request so i hope you enjoy it 🤞

@l0tt1emy this is me tagging youu

WHEN FRIENDS

୨୧ being friends with lottie matthews would include spend your saturday night on her huge house (more like a mansion to you) when her parents were out for work or just so busy that they wouldn't even notice you there

୨୧ you didn't know that, but she would spend the entire day thinking about you when it was a sleepover night

୨୧ sleepovers would be a casual thing for you and it was your favorite moment of the day cause lottie would turn it into a fashion show to model her new clothes for you

୨୧ speaking of it, you would constantly find yourself waiting in fitting rooms and their uncomfortable seats when lottie was trying on thousands of clothes just to buy (steal) one or two

୨୧ "do you think it looks too pink?" lottie comes out from behind the curtains to display the outfit she was trying on, featuring a fluffy pink cropped cardigan with short sleeves paired with a high-waisted, pink skirt that features vertical stripes

୨୧ "no, you look perfect," you say softly, eyes filled with affection while feeling a nervous flutter stirs in your stomach

୨୧ in parties, you would usually stick to her side and even though lottie wasn't extremely popular, people knew who she was. either because her parents had loads of money or cause, let's be honest, she fucking was stunning

୨୧ when offering to get her a drink and she would look at you with those pretty eyes and nod like "okay :)))"

୨୧ if you were part of the yellowjackets, during jackie's idea of telling the girls what you admire about them, you would DEF make her blush on purpose

୨୧ "lottie matthews..." you say lightheartedly and she's already screaming internally "you have the prettiest hair i’ve ever seen and a great fashion sense. and, yeah, you suck at french but you are so good at soccer and you have the biggest and kindest heart ever"

୨୧ and she's giggling and nervously rocking from side to side with her cheeks matching the color of her clothes

୨୧ lottie was a lonely kid and since her parents were always away, she would be taken care of by maids and housekeepers so she was easily anxious when speaking to people her age. luckyfor her, she would hide it quite well and the mean and cutesy lesbian in her would mask it greatly

୨୧ "does someone want to tell kelly kapowski to maybe worry less about prom and more about not fսcking up nationals?" lottie was mumbling in front of the mirror, fixing her bangs and makeup and you were ready to agree with anything she said

୨୧ "i know right?" but you didn't even know what kelly kapowski had said

୨୧ putting her money to good use, one of her favorite ways to show you how grateful she was for your friendship was to buy you things. not like once or twice but ALL. THE. TIME.

୨୧ books, vhs tapes of your favorite movies, vinyl, a cute dress you mentioned once, nice shoes, stuffed animals, things that reminded her of you. all you can possibly think of!!!

୨୧ "lot, you didn't have to. this must have cost a fortune!" and it's just her standing at your front door, hidden behind a huge teddy bear she bought for your birthday and a brand new walkman

୨୧ one night, when lottie's parents were home, she sneaked you in and you almost fell to your death when climbing the walls like fucking spider-man and getting to her room through the window but her perfume lingering around made everything worthy when she hugged you

୨୧ "thank you for coming, i know it's late," she lies in bed and tap the empty space beside her for you to join her. "it's okay, i was just watching a movie. i'm glad you called me"

୨୧ 'movie’ you said, but the flashback of you sleeping buried under the covers and snoring like an old guy comes to your mind...

୨୧ i feel like lottie would have a hard time opening up to people and letting them in but if they were genuine, she would trust them. but def insecure about telling you about her visits to the psychiatrist cause we all know she's just a silly girl with a few issues...

୨୧ but you were so respectful, reassuring and understanding to her that she doesn't feel ashamed or judged

୨୧ during that specific night when you were just hanging around together in her bed and talking about life, an accidental graze of her nose on yours led to an awkward moment that led to awkward giggles and an awkward and messy kiss and this was all you needed to call her your girlfriend

WHEN DATING

୨୧ even when dating, lottie would often feel insecure and ask you for help. reassuring her and telling her that there she wasn't broken and there was nothing wrong with her was something you always had to do but it didn't bother you at all. you were lottie's biggest worshiper and could spend hours just telling her how BADLY you loved her

୨୧ hear me out. lottie was a big fan of holding hands. you could be in class, watching a movie, reading together, talking with your group of friends, and even eating, but she was ALWAYS staring at you with pleading eyes and her palm facing up, extended in your direction, ready for you to hold her hand

୨୧ if you think she spoiled you too much already, you better take a seat cause that girl would show up at your place with presents all the time. "i know we agreed on saving money but i know how badly you wanted these..." you're speechless when she gives you something you really wanted

୨୧ but you can't get mad, you just thank her and kiss her adorable pout :(

୨୧ loves loves LOVES to give you small gifts as well like a pretty shell she found when going to the beach once or even her ENTIRE shell collection

୨୧ strongly believe that she would be the greatest big spoon ever and would love to cuddle you but doesn’t complain if you want to hold her

୨୧ lottie is TALL. a three would be afraid of her! im 100% convinced that she would put your stuff in a place you can't reach so you have to ask her for help. "baby, are you busy? can you get that for me?" and she's fighting demons to maintain her composure, resisting the urge to smile as she handles you the book she had just tucked away on the top shelf

୨୧ over protective lottie!!! she isn’t exactly jealous cause she trusted you a lot but is always around and keeping you in her sight. she has her arm around you all the time, drives you EVERYWHERE (makes her driver do that), and is always ready to defend you

୨୧ oh the many things that happened in the backseat that the poor driver had to ignore...

୨୧ if the crash had happened, one single mumble of yours about how hungry you were was ENOUGH for her to call nat and travis out. "lottie, there's no food. we looked everywhere!" "look harder!"

NSFW (MDNI)

୨୧ lottie spoils you with cute gifts but she’s not innocent. she would buy you the prettiest lingerie in the store just to fuck you in those 🤭

୨୧ she would adore when you face ride her. she just can’t resist to your moans and soft noises or how you feel so shy and dirty about it but just can’t stop. she loves to feel your legs around her face

୨୧ in fact, i’m a strong believer that she could just cum by hearing you moan her name. you can’t believe your eyes when you feel her nails dig into your thighs and lottie desperately closing her legs and rubbing them together, groaning into your pussy :(

୨୧ big fan of overstimulating you!!! holding your hips to keep you riding her face or her strap if she’s under you or rubbing your clit even after you made a mess on her fingers just to watch you squirm and cry for her 🤓

୨୧ i’ve mentioned this before BUT fucking you against a mirror in dressing rooms? she’s all in. even better if she’s fucking you from behind with a strap AND forcing you look at your messy and humiliating reflection in the mirror

୨୧ now when it comes to her, she loves when you suck her but keep your eyes on hers. eye contact is!!!! her fingers go crazy in your hair, pulling and holding so tight that it hurts but you don’t give a damn about it

୨୧ she wouldn't ever say no but she prefers to have her time with you instead of quickies. im a lottie hopeless romantic truther!!!

୨୧ i feel like she's not really loud when you're eating her out or fucking her, she just moans your name and lets lots of soft, weak and breathy noises and whimpers out 😵‍💫

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader

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toomuchracket · 3 months

Text

it's only been a year (birthday party matty x reader fluff)

surprise! happy 1st anniversary of the blog, and therefore to these fuckers. love you all. enjoy <3

matty’s so glad you're here.

not that he doesn't love his job, because he really, really does - and, to be honest, playing music for lovely people with his best friends has never felt like a proper shift to him - but the touring sparkle is starting to fade a bit now. it's been nonstop for almost two years, the end of this album cycle is in sight, and, as much as he hates to admit it, he's not as young as he once was. the tiredness catches up to him faster, because the adrenaline doesn't last as long, and all the dancing around is taking a bit more of a toll on his body than it used to (which reminds him: put the knee support on before travelling tomorrow). what used to be hours-long hedonistic afterparties have turned into staying backstage for a couple of drinks at most, before hurrying to the hotel for a hot shower to soothe the muscles in the voice and the rest of the body, and then getting as much sleep as possible. arguably, not particularly rock'n’roll, nor very exciting.

but you're here. at the shows, on the planes and trains and buses, and, currently, cueing up an episode of derry girls from the bed in matty's (well, both of your) hotel room. and because you are, the sparkle is still there, still glimmering away like glitter under strobe lights. he's not in the habit of quoting or relating to abba songs (although it's been happening more often recently, probably because of your love for mamma mia), but matty thinks they hit the nail on the head in super trouper - he truly cannot be sad knowing you're in the crowd, seeing you dance along to his songs and smile at him like he hung the moon.

wrapping the towel around his waist, matty steps out of the bathroom, and immediately smiles (probably gormlessly) at the sight of you, frowning cutely as you try to get netflix to load; his heart melts when you push up your glasses, then turn to beam at him when you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. “hi, baby. how you feeling?”

“tired,” matty sighs, smiling again when you climb off the bed and peck him on the lips, before tugging him into a cuddle. he hums. “thanks, sweetheart.”

“s'ok,” you press a kiss to his chest tattoo, a move so tender that it never fails to weaken his knees. “d'you want me to make you a hot chocolate while you get ready for bed?”

matty pulls back to look at you, brow furrowed. “we have hot chocolate?”

“there's a setting for it on the coffee machine.”

“there is? i didn't notice.”

“yeah, it's in french.”

“oh,” matty laughs, kissing your head. “this is really a recurring thing for us, isn't it? you keeping me right with drinks in europe because you're the only one of us who can speak french. thank god you were a pretentious teenager, darling.”

you blink at him. “you're taking the piss out of me for being a pretentious teenager?”

“well, i’m not the one who learnt another language so i could read the original text of les mis,” matty smirks. “how's that going, by the way?”

your face takes on the adorably bashful expression matty loves so much. “haven't even finished it in english yet,” you say, before crumbling into laughter that matty can't help joining in on - fuck, he loves you so much. when he tells you as much, you kiss him again. “i love you, too. now - hot choc, or no?”

“i'll take one, please, darling.”

“okay,” you kiss his nose, beaming at the way he scrunches it when you do. “can you see if you can get netflix to work once you're dressed, please, babe?”

“course, darling.”

“thank you, lover.”

there's a final kiss, then you let go of matty and wander to the coffee machine; as silly as it sounds, because you're only about three feet away from him, he misses you as soon as you leave his arms. having you in them, being in yours… that's matty's favourite thing in the world, and he'd gladly sacrifice most other things in life to have it for five minutes longer every morning and night, ten more minutes per day of him just being yours and you just being his.

although, looking at you now, it's so clear that those things are true even without him holding you - the hoodie you're wearing is an old one of his (that honestly looks better on you), the boxers you're wearing as pyjama shorts are his, and he's preeeeetty sure the overly-long nike sports socks you're wandering around in are also his. he gives parts of himself to you, and you accept them gladly, proudly displaying that you're completely his; in heart and mind and soul, too, not just in wardrobe.

he still can't get over that. he doesn't think he ever will.

once he's dressed (clothes warm, because you were sweet enough to put them on the radiator for him) and the tv has loaded properly, matty settles into bed, beaming at you as you wander over with his drink and giggling when you place it on the bedside table and just crawl over him to get to your side of the bed. he kisses the side of your head as you snuggle into him. “you're not having one, darling?”

“nah,” you let out a world-weary sigh. “i've had far too much chocolate today as is. remind me never to agree to going to a gig in switzerland ever again. s'awful for my digestion.”

matty laughs. “or you could just, you know, not eat chocolate.”

you frown adorably at him. he laughs again. “or not.”

“thank you,” your face softens. “s'good, though. try the hot chocolate, see for yourself.”

“right,” matty takes a sip, humming happily at the rich sweetness. “mhmm. yeah.”

“amazing, isn't it?”

he nods, swallowing, then grins. “nowhere near as sweet as you, though.”

“oh, you sap!” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into matty’s chest in mild embarrassment while he giggles; he can feel you smiling through his t-shirt, though. “put the telly on, i can't cope.”

he obliges, free hand coming up to stroke your hair as you watch the episode in relative calm - that is, aside from the two of you constantly laughing at the onscreen antics, and from you covering matty's mouth in an attempt to stop him doing his god-awful impression of a northern irish accent. the whole experience is really domestic, as sweet as the hot chocolate matty finished ten minutes into the episode, the perfect end to a busy work day.

matty stretches when the episode ends, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your chest. “time is it, sweetheart?”

“ten past midnight,” you yawn; suddenly, though, you perk up. “oh! happy anniversary, baby!”

he smiles into your chest, dragging himself up to hover over you. “happy anniversary, my girl,” he coos, thumbs stroking your pretty face. “i love you.”

“i love you,” you smile. “kiss, please?”

matty nods, leaning down to press his lips to yours; on instinct, you open your mouth as soon as he does, soundtracked by a sigh that makes his head spin. even now, a year on from it, every kiss you share feels like the very first one up against the wall in the smoking area, full of passion and adrenaline and just total love and devotion that you'd both kept buried for each other for years. the only difference is that now, 365 days on, you know exactly how to kiss matty to make him melt - a moan slips from his throat as you softly swipe your tongue around the perimeter of his lips, which in turn makes you smile, and another follows when you gently bite his lower lip and drag it to release. but it's the way you beam at him afterwards, breathing just as heavily as he is, that gets matty most, makes him hug you as tightly as he can and press little kisses all over your face and hair and get you giggling (his favourite sound in the world).

once you've both caught your breath, kissed some more, and caught your breath again, you speak. “d'you want your anniversary present now, baby?”

matty grins. “yeah. you want yours?”

“yeah,” you beam. reaching across to your bedside table, you take out a little wrapped gift and hand it to him. “for you.”

“thank you, sweet girl,” matty kisses your forehead, rolling off you to pull a thin box from his bag at the side of the bed. “for you.”

“thanks, darling,” you kiss him softly. “go on, you open yours first.”

“alright,” matty carefully rips the brown paper - after smiling, lovesick, at for the love of my life written on it in your unmistakable handwriting - to find what looks like a zine, small enough to fit in his back pocket. he laughs in slight shock at the cover, displaying both of your first initials in a heart and subtitled year one, and this continues when he flicks through the pages. the very first has a picture of the two of you at that fateful birthday party, taken by a friend across the table, as well as one of the receipt for dinner, with little hearts drawn on either side of the listing for your favourite wine; the next, a short typed-out musing ‘written on matty's couch. he's in love with me. he knows i'm in love with him. i've never been so happy in my life. i fell asleep thinking my heart might burst, and that feeling hasn't left me at all. this is true love. i know it now’.

flicking through the pages - he so badly wants to spend time poring over every single one, but he knows now isn't the time - matty feels the exact same way. you've always been shockingly good at gift-giving when it comes to him, but this… this is the best thing anyone's ever done for him.

he doesn't even think love is a strong enough word to describe how he feels about you, to be honest.

you smile when he tells you as much, lifting his hand to kiss it. “i'm glad you like it, baby. i had a lot of fun compiling everything. it was just constant reminders of how much i love you - although, i agree, it's not a strong enough word. maybe i should come up with an alternative. like how coleridge did with soulmate.”

“thank fuck he did, by the way,” matty sighs, leaning in to kiss you. “what would i call you otherwise?”

“i'm sure you'd figure it out. you're very good with words.”

“not when it comes to you, darling,” he smiles. “and that's actually relevant to your gift, so…”

“point taken,” you wink, lifting the lid. your beautiful face takes on a confused expression as you lift out a thin, a3-sized hardback book. “this looks like one of your lyric books from stage…”

“it does, a bit, yeah.”

“...and it has my name on the front,” your jaw drops, and you open the book so frantically that matty can't help but giggle; he laughs even harder when you look up at him, aghast. “this is a score. you wrote me a song?”

“kind of, sweetheart. i mean, i've written you lots of songs already-”

“but none explicitly with my name!”

“no, that's true,” matty moves to sit behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he feels you relax immediately, which is good, because for a second he thought you were about to go into genuine shock. “and this one is slightly different in another way, too.”

“it is?”

“yeah. look - there aren't any lyrics,” he takes your hand in his own, dragging your finger over the score to show blankness where the words would appear over the stave. “when i said a minute ago that i wasn't good with words when it comes to you, i mean it. you're literally the only person in the world that can render me speechless; trying to concisely convey everything i love about you in words that 1) made sense and 2) worked in a song was impossible. so i figured i would just let the music do the talking,” matty kisses your head. “no lyrics, parts for almost a full orchestra plus the instruments i'm used to writing for… this isn't a song, darling, it's a symphony, the one that plays in my head whenever i think about you.”

“matthew,” your voice is shaky when you say his name; when you turn to look at him, he notices your jaw is too, the telltale sign that you're about to burst into tears. “i think you're absolutely fucking mental. and i love you, i love you, i love you,” your voice cracks into a sob on the last you, and you bury your face in your boyfriend's neck while you cry. “that's the most romantic thing anyone could do, i think, and you did it for me. what the fuck!”

matty giggles, caressing your back and kissing your head soothingly. “s'the least i could do, really.”

“oh, shut up.”

“alright,” he coaxes you out of hiding, wiping your tears away and kissing your nose. “i'll play it for you when we get to a piano tomorrow, yeah?”

“i'd like that,” you peck his lips. “thank you, my love.”

“you're welcome, darling. and thank you for the little zine about us - can't wait to read that tomorrow, too.”

you nod happily - suddenly, your eyes widen. “wait! that reminds me: i got you something else too. and i want us to use them tomorrow.”

“let's see, then,” matty sits up in anticipation, but almost immediately slumps back down exasperatedly when he sees the rolling papers in your hand. “baby…”

“what? it's on-theme!” you grin. “it’s paper! the thing you're meant to give and get to celebrate a first anniversary. and, let's be serious, it was me wanting to smoke that got us here, wasn't it?”

“you’re incorrigible, sweetheart,” matty shakes his head, hand tracing patterns into your thigh; he can't help but smile, though. “but alright - tomorrow, at some point, we'll smoke.”

“promise?”

“for fuck's sake,” he sighs. “i promise, even though i think you're demented.”

you beam. “thanks. i love you!”

“i love you, too, darling.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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wonijinjin · 2 months

Text

being in a relationship with joshua hong: silly headcanons

author’s note: lmk if you guys want another member version of this! @welcometomyoasis had to include one headcanon dedicated to you and your headcanons about him driving his lover around haha:)

synopsis: my silly thoughts on how it would be to live and be in a relationship with joshua. (the mingyu version of this can be found here)

word count: 1.3k | genre: fluffiest fluff | pairing: joshua x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of food, getting hurt

- your biggest supporter and bully in one person; he would always encourage you to do whatever you want to purse in terms of like your passion and hobbies, but when you do something embarrassing like trip over in a big crowd he would definitely tease you for it, he just cannot miss such a good oppopportunity; i can just see him softly giggling in an adoring way while teasing you after the incident. (of course my mans is still a gentleman so he would make sure you weren’t hurt in any way)

- he is such a praiser (in every aspect and meaning possible, i will leave this to your imagination guys), he will be the proudest whenever you achieve something and would be happier for your success than you yourself; if you get your degree he would be standing in the front row cheering and screaming, same if you got a promotion at work, he would take you out for dinner to celebrate it.

- his eye smile is almost always there when he is with you; he would grin every time you speak or even move because this is how much he loves you; he has heart eyes when he is with you, and the members for sure tease him for it.

- he is the most patient person when it comes to you (although he is generally patient aswell lmao), he would explain something if he had to over a hundread times just so you got it, it doesn’t matter how much time it takes; one thing that pisses him off though is when you don’t listen to him at all and that is the reason why you are confused; shua is an attentive listener when it comes to you so he expects the same from you.

- biggest princess treatment giver (after cheol lmao) in a relationship, perfect example for this is driving you around all the time; he doesn’t care that you have your license, he will make you a passenger princess and will make you enjoy it very much.

- old money/street casual fashion enthusiast, so when you would get him clothes like those for his birthday he would be over the moon. also loves jewelry on you, would buy you so many pretty (expenive) pieces.

- he is the biggest fan of dancing in the kitchen (just like in those sweet romcoms), yall cannot convince me otherwise; we all know he likes to keep his gentleman image up, he would be the softest when he sees you come into the kitchen upon hearing the music he was blasting through the speakers. he would grab your hands and spin you around instantly, rocking the two of you to the beat and letting out the softest giggles.

- he doesn’t cook much, but would love the idea of the domestic act of cooking for/with you, i picture him as more of the baker type, like someone who prepfers preparing sweet food when doing it himself (for ex.: french toast in the soop); he would definitely be annoyingly playful and smudge flour all over your cheek and nose just so he can be the gentleman and wipe it off romantically while stealing a few kisses.

- joshua loves when you need his help with tasks that require strength, it makes him proud that he can be at your service as your big strong boyfriend; remember that episode in gose when he opened the jars for vernon? he would love to flex his muscles in front of you with that, as he knows you love his biceps.

- babies you when you get hurt, not in a ‘you cannot take care of yourself you little baby’ way, but rather in a ‘you are so adorable let me help you fix it while i gush over your cuteness’ way. iykyk but there’s that one clip of him talking in a cute surprised baby voice in that show when him and jun took care of the twin girls and one of the girls started crying because she didn’t want them to leave, now that is exactly what i mean.

- he secretly loves watching you sleep, no matter if it is in the midle of the night when he just arrived from work or when he wakes up before you in the morning. he is in love with how peaceful your expression is when you are in dreamland, and even thinks the drool and the leftover wrinkles from the pillow on you face are cute. one of his favourite moments is watching you doze off after a hard and tiring day while he is driving the two of you back home, looking over at you every time he is at a red light, he is just kinda lovesick for you.

- will splash water on you every time you two are doing your morning routines in the bathroom together; you would be doing your skincare while he was brushing his teeth and the next thing you knew was him splashing around while you tried to dodge his moves, in the end getting water all over the mirror and him having to clean it up.

- he is not easily flustered when he is with you, he is the cheekier one out of the two of you most of the time, but if you say something out of pocket he will turn so red in a split second you think that he is gonna burst; if you flirted with him in front of the members he would not have the wits to come up with a cheeky comeback since he would be very shy.

- vacations with him are the best; he takes care of everything if you are not that eager to organise the trip with him, and it works so well since you know you can trust him with handling it; he can be a planner so he doesn’t mind having to handle the technical details; i can see him buying tons of travel guide books to learn more about the place.

- speaking of vacations, he would have the greatest ideas about what to do at the location, you wouldn’t even have to tell him what you want since he is exceptionally observant and knows you like the back of his hand, bonus that he would take you on a shopping spree to buy new clothes for/on the trip (whichever you prefer, maybe both) and would make you do a little runway show for him in the new pieces while he watches in a comfortable seat.

- would definitely buy you cute beanies and hats with the little fluffballs at the top in winter and autumn, as he puts it he just wants to protect your head from getting cold by the wind and the low temperature, but in reality he just finds them so cute on you he has to buy you a new one every week (just like the bunny ones he sometimes wears in concerts).

- he would ask you one random morning if he could do your hair, and since you let him do it that time, as life goes on it would become a habit that he would brush your hair and decorate it with cute accessories almost every week, i just know he knows how to take care of his hair, so you would always go to him to help you with not just styling, but with hair products aswell. (for my curly haired gals, he would learn the techniques to style it while it is wet aswell ofc)

- would make you try new hobbies; he would be dragging you to pottery class, and even if you didn’t like it, for the sight of shua’s eyes sparkling while doing his own little mug from the wet clay you would say it was worth it for sure.

- overall he would just love you so gently and treat you with so much adoration every single day that you would definitely feel like the luckiest person on this planet to have him (even though he always says he is the luckiest one to have found you).

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thebearchives · 1 year

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to live a lifetime with you | CL16

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

REQUESTED: [] yes [X] no

WORD COUNT: 7.8k

SYNOPSIS: after twenty-six years together, it only made sense that charles would want to live out the rest of his life with you by his side.

WARNINGS: mentions of death (jules + charles' father), mattia being a decent human being at the end (sorry its for plot only), probably so many sentences that make no sense, time skips galore, me writing about love without having ever experienced it, french translations

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

to say that you and charles were childhood sweethearts would be an understatement, really.

you and charles had known each other since the two of you were born basically, with your parents moving in next door to the leclercs not long after your birth. charles had only just started standing on his own two feet at seven months, while your own six-month-old self had discovered the art of scooting your bum around to get from one place to another.

at the time, lorenzo was absolutely obsessed with all things relating to his baby brother, and when he saw the new neighbours walk into the empty house with a small baby girl nibbling on a cookie, he was ecstatic, running up to his mom and telling her that they could set up play dates for charles and you. honestly, if it wasn’t for lorenzo’s insistence, you were sure that you and charles would not have been where you were today.

it helped that your parents and charles’ parents became fast friends. growing up, your families did everything together. vacations, celebrations, holidays, anything and everything you could think of. the two of you grew up sharing everything, from toys to food, and everything in between. the only thing you hadn’t shared with one another was the fact that charles had a brother, and you did not.

when arthur was born, you had cried to your parents every day and night about wanting a baby sister. as a soon-to-be three-year-old, you had no idea that your parents were unable to have more children, receiving nothing but sad smiles when you continuously asked for another sibling.

nonetheless, you had quickly taken to arthur leclerc. and much like lorenzo had felt for charles, you and charles felt for arthur. instead of playing with charles, you were now focused on the new baby in pascale’s arms and how tiny he was. looking back, pascale would always reminisce how you and charles were horrible for her heart when arthur was a baby, always handing the small boy even smaller toys. arthur himself would always bring up the times the two of you tried to “kill” him as a baby, always finding it funny how you and charles defended yourselves.

you’d learned quite early on that charles was a strange kid. and rude, if your four-year-old self were to add. the two of you would always play together, and while you two shared all your toys with one another, charles drew the line at your barbies.

on his fourth birthday, pascale and hervé had bought charles a remote control car, and he had instantly rushed off to go play with it, pulling you along. he had run over your barbie doll that day, after having fought with you about how it was his birthday and he didn’t want to play with girly dolls. a few days later, charles had ‘accidentally’ ripped ken’s head off of his body, leaving you in a mess of distressed sobs and tears.

lorenzo could still remember the way you had knocked and entered his room, fat tears rolling down your chubby cheeks as you presented the headless figurine to him and jules who had been hanging out with the eldest leclerc. you had begged either of them to fix it, and while jules took the doll from your hands, lorenzo went off to find his younger brother and scold him for ruining your toys. instead of in his room, lorenzo found charles leaning over arthur’s crib, explaining to the youngest how cars were much cooler than your barbies. arthur, of course, had no idea what his brother had been telling him, too focused on figuring out how he could eat the plastic car in his hand.

since then, however, charles had been a lot more willing to play with your dolls, and soon enough, the driver’s seat in his remote control car was filled with your new ken doll that the leclercs had bought for your own birthday. charles would drive his car up to your small dollhouse, and then the passenger seat would get filled as well, with your favourite barbie doll sitting next to ken as they drove off to charles’ racetrack set up.

life was always filled with compromises and balance for charles and yourself, and as you two got older, your friendship became stronger and less of the cat and mouse relationship you had when you were four. when you two started school, you were lucky enough to be put in the same class, and at every parent-teacher conference, your teacher always said the same thing to your parents; vos enfants parlent toujours entre eux, jamais aux autres. your children are always talking to each other, never to others.

the two of you became attached at the hip, so one can imagine the turmoil you felt when charles decided to take up racing like jules, and left you all alone at your shared desk while he karted along the tracks of france. you were even more upset when charles came back talking about a french boy named pierre. you had decided then, with both jules and pierre taking charles away from you, that you hated french people.

during the time that charles began karting, your parents were often asked to house either lorenzo or arthur, sometimes even both, while pascale and hervé took the middle child to his races. you’d grown especially close to arthur and lorenzo during those times, and your parents had countless pictures of you and the youngest leclerc playing dress-up before bedtime.

when you met pierre, you had given him the cold shoulder, much like you had been giving jules whenever he came to visit. you were especially angry when pierre had been invited to join your vacations, but you couldn’t help but feel bad when charles looked at both of you with a sad look on his face. he wanted both of his friends to be friends too.

more years passed, and the resentment you had towards both frenchmen faded as you realized just how happy racing made charles. and when arthur started joining his brother some days, you never gave yourself the chance to feel upset, already begging your parents to let you miss a day of school so you could watch both brothers race on the same track.

you were twelve when you decided that you wanted to be involved in charles’ racing life. having grown up with hervé leclerc telling you and his kids stories about his own racing days, and having seen the leclercs and the gasly boy race on many tracks, it felt almost inevitable that you would follow a route in a similar field as them.

you had been sitting in your science class when you had your epiphany. you had listened in on jules and lorenzo talking about racing and the physics behind racing the night before, and when your teacher mentioned the word physics during the lesson, you realized that maybe, instead of racing yourself, you could join charles behind the scenes.

as charles made his way up the ranks in racing, you put your head down and studied hard to get the highest grades in your class. long gone were the days when your teachers would complain to your parents about you and charles talking so much, instead, they now focused on how you excelled in science.

the leclercs had been just as happy for your accomplishments as they had been for their own family members. if anything, lorenzo couldn’t help but feel protective over you, going as far as to sit charles down and help him realize just how much of your life you were changing to fit in with his lifestyle.

after that talk, thirteen-year-old charles spent hours in your room asking you if you were sure that engineering was what you wanted to do, and that he didn’t want to ruin your dreams just because of his own. you had giggled at his ever so slightly puberty-ridden voice, explaining just how sure you were that your future was going to be in engineering.

when puberty hit the two of you, your relationship dynamic changed ever so slightly. no more sleepovers in the same room, or talking about everything that happened to one another. suddenly, you’d find yourself laying in your bed, a science textbook laying next to you haphazardly as you wondered if the shock you felt from charles’ fingers brushing against your arm was static electricity or if you were experiencing the same feelings as the girls in the books you read did. charles himself, wasn’t fairing all too well, blushing from time-to-time when pierre would call you his girl friend–yes, with the space.

but alas, the two of you were oblivious to the growing and changing feelings between you two, brushing it off as just friends being friends. your parents had all exchanged glances when they caught you two sharing shy smiles, and lorenzo and jules couldn’t help but feel excited for the younger boy. arthur had gone as far as asking charles why his cheeks were red after you had left to go to the bathroom. the youngest leclerc had been pushed off the sofa and could be seen with teary eyes and a bruised elbow in the pictures from that barbecue night.

you were sixteen when you realized you harboured feelings for your best friend. you watched from the sidelines as charles transitioned to single-seaters, won races and made podiums with fortec. your realization had hit you while you watched him land his first podium, hugging pascale in absolute elation. the mother of the boy would later go on to tell you she could see the look on your face that day, and how she knew instantly that you knew you were in love.

you never reacted on your feelings, not wanting to ruin your relationship with charles. to him, you two were just best friends, and you would rather be his friend than lose him altogether. after all, losing him didn’t just mean living life without charles by your side.

losing charles meant losing all the leclercs; pascale, hervé, lorenzo, and arthur. losing him meant losing pierre. losing jules, the dumb frenchman who was smart enough to figure out how you felt for the leclerc boy. the one that always pushed your buttons yet was there to help you out just like he had done all those years ago with your broken ken doll. and yet, even without telling charles how you truly felt, you ended up losing jules anyway.

that day, you’d been at the leclerc household like always, watching the japan grand prix with the whole family. as tradition, you and charles had been wearing the team shirts that jules had given everyone at the start of the season. your eyes had been stuck to the screen as you watched jules’ crash, heart instantly plummetting to the bottom of your stomach as everyone let out gasps.

that same night, you had begged lorenzo to let you go with him when he left to go see jules’, but he had given you a sad smile and told you that he’d call you as soon as he was with jules so that you could talk to him as soon as he was able to. neither of your parents said anything when you followed charles into his room at night, holding his body tightly as you prayed that jules would be alright. no one said anything the next morning when they noticed the dark patches on your shoulder, or how your shirt had been crinkled as if someone had been holding onto it all night.

on july 17, you had decided that you would forever keep your feelings to yourself. losing jules was like losing your older brother, and you were sure that you would never be able to handle his loss along with the loss of charles. as you stood in your black dress, you had cried silently, apologizing to jules for going against his wishes and hiding your feelings once more. your heart ached when charles cried beside you, reaching a hand out to hold his.

charles and yourself never went back to normal, for normal included lorenzo and jules picking at the two of you while your cheeks flushed red, or sending an unsuspecting arthur to spy on you two to see what you guys were doing. instead, the two of you had found a new normal, one that involved sharing sleepless nights reminiscing in your memories with jules, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

days turned into weeks, which turned into months and years, and your feelings for your next door neighbour continued to grow. charles, however, remained entirely oblivious, both to your feelings and his own. he had been making big moves in the racing world, winning the title in gp3, and moving onto his first season in f2. you’d celebrated his entry into the f1 world as a haas developmental driver, and in turn, he celebrated the completion of your first year of university.

things were finally starting to look up, and then hervé fell ill. you watched from the back of the hospital room as his eyes lost a little bit of life every day. you watched as charles would hide his tears and smile at his dad, hoping to see him back in good health.

for your entire summer break, you’d find yourself staying at the leclerc household for multiple hours a day, sleeping over most of the nights. charles distanced himself from you, focusing on his racing, recounting his races with hervé for hours until a nurse would come in and tell him he’d have to leave. you couldn’t find it within yourself to be upset with him, knowing that right now, he didn’t need you, he needed his dad.

during this time, you had gotten exceptionally close to arthur, finding him sitting in his dark room crying silently as he thought about his dad. you would lay with him at night, letting the youngest wrap his arms around you while he shared how scared he was. you wished you could take his pain away, but you knew you couldn’t, instead opting to wipe away his tears and kissing his forehead.

you watched charles waste away, wishing you could reach out to him every time you saw him. he had lost his smile, the shine in his eyes dimming with every hour he spent watching his father whither away. by the end of the second week, you had decided you couldn’t simply watch him from afar, letting yourself into his room one night when you heard loud sniffles.

he didn’t move when you rested your hand against his back, and he didn’t resist when you pulled him into your side. at the feeling of your arms around him, his sniffles turned into broken cries and he sobbed against your clavicle. you stayed quiet, letting the boy blubber out words about how he tried so hard to stay strong but that he couldn’t anymore. you didn’t tell him it would be okay, you knew it wouldn’t. hervé was getting sicker and you feared that you would all experience loss once more.

when he had calmed down, the two of you laid down in his bed, charles’ head resting against your chest. his fingers fiddled with the bottom of your shirt, touching the skin of your back every so often.

“je lui ai dit que j'avais signé avec ferrari,” his voice was quiet, barely louder than a whisper. i told him i signed with ferrari,

your hand found its way to his head, twirling the strands with your fingers, “comment a-t-il réagi?” how did he react?

charles’ voice broke, “il était si heureux pour moi,” his arms tightened around you, “mais je lui ai menti.” he was so happy for me, but i lied to him.

“maman est contrariée, elle a dit que je n'aurais pas dû mentir,” he sniffled, “mais je lui ai dit que j'avais signé pour 2019. je ne voulais pas mentir alors je me suis donné du temps. je veux que cela se produise.” mom is upset, said i shouldn’t have lied, but i told him i signed for 2019. i didn’t want to lie so i gave myself time. i want to make it happen.

“tu as le temps, char,” you used your hand to pull his head back, “tu as deux ans pour en faire une réalité.” you’ve got time, char, you’ve got two years to make it a reality.

his eyes glistened with tears, “mais c’est ferrari.” but it’s ferrari.

“je suis un fils horrible,” he looked away, “je lui ai menti.” i’m a horrible son, i lied to him

“tu n'es pas un fils horrible, charles,” you moved to hold his face in your hands, “tu ne l'es pas.” you are not a horrible son, charles. you’re not.

“je ne veux pas qu'il s'inquiète,” his tears slipped under your palms, “je veux qu'il parte en sachant que je peux subvenir aux besoins de notre famille.” i just don’t want him to worry. want him to leave knowing i can support our family.

your heart broke for him, “charles.”

“je veux juste qu'il soit fier de moi.” i just want to make him proud.

you leaned forward and placed gentle kisses against his closed eyelids, “il est et sera toujours fier de toi.” he has and will always be proud of you.

a week later, you stood a few feet away from charles, tears spilling from your eyes as you wore another black dress. hervé had passed away with his family by his side, telling his boys to look after their mother. your own parents stood silently beside you, tears slipping down their own faces as well.

after the service, you sat with the leclerc boys on the porch outside. charles’ arm pressed against yours, while arthur sat between your legs, head in your hands where you combed through his hair. lorenzo sat near the front door, keeping an eye out for his mother who sat on the couch, resting against your own mother. not a word was shared, all of you mourning in silence.

your relationship with charles turned delicate, walking on eggshells whenever you wanted to talk to him. charles was stuck in his head, he had a job to do. you had pushed and pushed to tell him to not race in baku until he exploded, yelling at you for not understanding.

“je n'ai pas le temps de ne pas courir, y/n!” his hands were tugging at his hair, “je lui ai promis que j'avais une place chez ferrari mais je ne l'ai pas. je ne peux pas me permettre de ne pas courir, je dois aller chez ferrari.” i don't have the time to not race, y/n! i promised him i had a spot in ferrari but i don't. i can't afford to not race, i need to get to ferrari.

and so you watched him race his heart out in baku, joining the leclerc family on their trip to azerbaijan. you watched as his sadness and despair poured into his racing. he was fast, enough speed to win the race he had dedicated to his father. his eyes had met yours while he stood at the podium and he felt himself look at you differently for the first time, his father’s words ringing in his head as he watched you smile at him with teary eyes.

it had been a couple days after charles had told hervé about his signing with ferrari when hervé asked charles to sit down and talk with him. his voice was weak and his hand shook as he reached out to grab his son’s hand.

he had smiled, “mon garçon, maintenant que tu as signé avec ferrari, pourquoi ne pas enfin te poser?” my boy, now that you've signed with ferrari, why don't you finally settle down?

“se poser?” charles had been confused, “papa, je n'ai même pas encore 20 ans.” settle down? dad, i’m not even 20 yet.

“l'amour n'a pas d'âge requis,” hervé’s laugh turned into a cough. love has no required age.

“je ne suis même pas amoureux, qu'est-ce que tu dis?” charles helped his father drink water. i'm not even in love, what are you saying?

hervé leaned back, giving his son a fond look, “mon garçon, tu es amoureux de ta meilleure amie depuis que tu l'as laissée jouer avec tes voitures télécommandées.” my boy, you have been in love with your best friend ever since you let her play with your remote control cars.

charles had since waved off his dad’s words, blaming them on his sickness. he had got it all wrong, you were his friend. nothing more, nothing less.

yet as he stood there, looking at you for the first time since you had fought about this very race, he realized that there was something about you that made him feel like no one else could. is this what love is, papa?, he had asked as he held the trophy over his head.

less than a month later, you found yourself sitting in your room, smiling down at your phone. charles had sent you a picture of himself, dressed in ferrari red, ready to participate in the mid-season testing. charles was almost there, another step closer to his dreams.

another month passed and now, you were preparing for your move to university dorms, third year looming around the corner. charles asked if you would like to go to mala beach with him. you’d agreed and the two of you sat in front of the bright turquoise sea, a comforting silence between you two.

“j'ai été signé,” charles had broken the silence. i got signed.

you whipped your head to him, “to ferrari?!”

charles let out a small laugh, shaking his head before looking back at you, “sauber, i’ll be starting with them in the new season.”

“c'est incroyable, char,” you gave him a wide smile, “you’re finally in f1.” that’s amazing.

charles returned your smile with one a bit smaller, “just hope i can make it to ferrari next season.”

“you will, i believe you can do it,” you leaned over and nudged me, “save me a spot in the pit wall, yeah? i’ll be waiting on your call for the 2020 season.”

charles had laughed, “of course, i will. lorenzo would have my head if i didn’t.”

“lorenzo is a smart man.”

the conversation died and you two focused back on the view in front of you. charles was nervous. he had invited you to the beach to do more than just tell you about his career. he wanted to confess to you.

the last few months had been painful— hard— but you made it better with just a single look. after the race in baku, charles realized that he had loved you for a lot longer than he had let on. he loved you when you wore his shirt to school, running late after a sleepover. he loved you when he walked in on you and jules talking about the physics of racing. he loved you when he watched you help arthur with his math homework. he loved you when you had held him close and kissed his puffy eyes, and every single time you told him you were proud of him.

he loved you since the moment he realized what love was, even if he thought it was platonic at the time.

a finger pressed against the middle of his eyebrows, “vous réfléchissez très fort, perceval.” you’re thinking quite hard.

charles’ brows unfurrowed, but a pout graced his lips at the sound of his middle name. ever since you learned of his full name, you had taken to calling him by a different name for certain situations. perceval was for when you were teasing him. he had complained many times that he hated it when you called him that, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it endearing all at the same time. he reached up to grab your hand and pulled it between both his hands, turning so that the two of you were sat across one another rather than beside.

he let out a small sigh, eyes focused on your hand in his, “je veux te dire quelque chose.” i want to tell you something.

you, noticing his nerves, didn’t say anything, only nodding.

you squeezed his hand and he continued, “je veux te dire quelque chose, mais j'ai peur.” i want to tell you something, but i’m scared.

your grip tightened slightly, “pourquoi as-tu peur?” why are you scared?

“j'ai peur de te perdre après avoir dit ce que j'ai à dire.” i'm scared i'll lose you after i say what i have to say.

you felt your heart race at his words, hands growing clammy. for years, you had repeated those same words to yourself, vowing yourself to silence regarding the topic. did he finally feel the same?

you willed yourself to stay calm, “you could never lose me, charles. jamais.” ever.

he gave you a nervous smile, eyes meeting yours for the first time since the new conversation rose. you gave him a soft smile, encouraging him to go on. you needed to hear him say the words first.

“quelques jours après avoir dit à papa que j'avais signé, il m'a dit qu'il était temps pour moi d'avouer mes sentiments,” charles looked away from you, “à l'époque, je n'avais aucune idée de ce dont il parlait.” a couple days after i told dad about me signing, he told me that it was time for me to come clean about my feelings…at the time i had no idea what he was talking about.

“il m'a dit que j'étais amoureuse,” he told me i was in love. charles spoke and your heart went wild. was this really happening?

“et quand j'ai demandé avec qui, il a dit que c'était toi.” and when i asked with who, he said it was you.

you blinked at him. charles’ eyes darted back to your face, his hands squeezing yours.

“et depuis, j'ai réalisé qu'il avait raison,” he gave you a soft smile, “c'est toi. ca a toujours été toi.” and since then, i realized he was right. it's you. it's always been you.

you felt like the small waves lapping at the sand in front of you suddenly turned large and splashed down on you. you felt like your world had just gotten a thousand times brighter. a weight you never even realized you were carrying, lifted off your chest. you felt like you were breathing right for the first time.

“y/n l/n, i love you. looking back, i have loved you from the moment you filled my memories,” his eyes searched yours, “tu as été la seule constante dans ma vie, et ce que j'ai ressenti pour toi a toujours été le même.” you've been the one constant in my life, and the way i've felt for you has always been the same.

“je sais maintenant que c'est de l'amour, et j'ai vraiment besoin que tu le saches avant que nous passions au prochain chapitre de nos vies.” i know now it's love, and i really need you to know that before we move on to the next chapter of our lives.

it was as if his words had been kissing you, leaving you breathless the moment he pulled away and stopped talking. charles had just told you he loved you. charles marc hervé perceval leclerc had just confessed to you.

a beat passed and he lightly tugged on your hand, the hopeful look in his eyes dimming slightly. you realized you had not responded.

“you love me?” after nearly five years of hiding your feelings from him, charles had just told you that he had felt the same. you couldn’t believe it.

he nodded slightly, “i do. je t’aime beaucoup.” i love you a lot.

you let the words sink in. he loved you. he loves you.

charles opened his mouth, “it’s okay if you don–”

“i love you, too,” you had let out a breathless laugh, “mon dieu, charles, je t'aime depuis que nous avons seize ans, quand tu as eu ton premier podium avec fortec.” my god, i have loved you since we were sixteen, when you got your first podium with fortec.

“fortec?” his eyes were wide as he realized how long it had been, “je suis un tel connard. tu as caché tes sentiments pendant si longtemps.” i am such an asshole. you've been hiding your feelings for so long.

his eyes looked watery with love, his forehead coming to rest against yours, “je suis désolé qu'il m'ait fallu si longtemps pour réaliser mes sentiments pour toi.” i'm sorry it took me so long to realize my feelings for you.

you smiled at him softly, your own eyes tearing up just as much as his, “mieux vaut tard que jamais.” better late than never.

to say your relationship with charles changed drastically after the confession would be a lie. the two of you spent the rest of your day at the beach wrapped up in each other’s arms, and charles had kissed your forehead before he drove the two of you home. the entire night you felt like you couldn’t sleep, and instead you spent your entire night texting charles with your curtains pulled shut, not wanting charles to see how wide you smiled with every text.

and although you two had confessed, you had neglected to discuss what would happen next.

charles had texted you at half past midnight the night before you left for university, asking for you to come outside. when you came out to your porch, he stood there with a smile on his face and an offer to go to the park you two used to play at as kids.

you were on the swings when he had asked you, sitting side by side and swinging back and forth slowly. you had been focused on the movement of your feet, trying to swing just slightly higher than charles.

“tu dirais oui si je te demandais d'être ma petite amie?” would you say yes if i asked you to be my girlfriend?

whenever charles reminisced this moment, he would say that the look you gave him when you registered his question had been the cutest doe-eyed look ever. your eyes were wide and your eyebrows had raised slightly. your lips were parted in the smallest of round shapes, and you blinked before responding.

“je pense que oui,” you slowed your swinging slightly, eyes bright with excitement, “veux-tu l'essayer?” i think i would. do you want to try it?

charles had given you a cheeky smile, slipping out of his swing and resting on one knee in front of you. he had gotten down wrong with his right knee kissing the ground, but you said nothing as your lips quirked into a smile.

“y/n l/n,” he reached for your hands and you let him grab them, “me ferais-tu l'honneur d'être ma charmante petite amie?” would you do the honour of being my lovely girlfriend?

you pretended to think about it, the hum turning into a giggle at the way charles’ face dropped in annoyance, “j’aimerais.” i would love to.

and much to the annoyance of charles’ nosy brothers, you two hadn’t kissed to set the new relationship in stone, instead wrapping each other into a tight hug, one where your feet left the ground, before charles placed a gentle kiss to your temple.

the two of you had been dating for four months before you finally had your first kiss. charles had asked you out on a date on christmas eve, and had been rather disappointed when it began raining halfway through. it was cheesy, you knew it, charles knew it, and anyone and everyone who watched you tug charles out from under the canopy and into the rain knew it too, but neither of you seemed to care.

charles’ cheeks and nose were slightly rosy from the mixture of cold raindrops and wind, and you were sure you weren’t fairing much better. your hands had wrapped around his neck as his found home against your hips.

“i’ve dreamt of kissing under the rain ever since i watched ‘a cinderella story’,” you had laughed, throwing your head back into the rain.

charles had pulled you closer, “well, ma princesse, i’m here to make your dreams a reality.”

sharing a kiss under the rain was cold, obviously— you couldn’t help the shiver that travelled up your spine when charles’ cold lips pressed themselves against your own— but at the same time, it was so warm. you felt like someone had lit a candle inside of you, warming you up from the inside out. when you pulled away, the two of you couldn’t help but let out soft laughs, hearts racing faster than any car charles had ever drove.

the two of you had spent the rest of the year laying under warm blankets, with a cacophony of coughs and sneezes being your main form of communication.

your third year in university was split halfway between studying or taking exams, and watching charles’ races or crying to him over facetime because engineering was already so hard. as much as you had wished to be there attending charles’ every race in f1, you were nearing the end of your second semester and were swamped with finals.

your first f1 race had been the 2018 monaco grand prix, and you’d spent the better part of your evening with your arms wrapped around him as he promised you that the next races would be better. the season had been rough for charles, but you had celebrated every good result, no matter how small.

it was your second holiday season as charles’ girlfriend when both of your worlds changed entirely. a couple days before christmas, charles had asked for you and your parents to join his family for dinner. when you had all settled around the dining table, charles stood up with a wide smile on his face.

“j'ai signé avec ferrari.” i signed with ferrari.

to this day, that dinner had been one of your favourite memories. the amount of smiles and tears shared, and the sheer pride that filled your chest when you looked at charles was something you had never been able to forget.

that night, you and charles found yourselves sharing a bed, hands intertwined between the two of you. his eyes were glossy as he looked at you.

a tear slipped out of his eyes when he closed them, “i didn’t lie.”

your free hand moved to wipe the tear away. your mind rushed back to the night you two had shared a week before hervé’s passing.

you leaned forward and kissed his closed eyelids much like you had done the previous year, “no you didn’t. you’ve done well, mon amour. i know he’s so proud of you.”

on christmas morning, lorenzo had surprised you with a letter from the ferrari engineering academy, offering you an intern position to gain trackside experience for your final semester of your engineering degree. you had cried and thanked him profusely, while he laughed at your blubbering figure. later that night, arthur and charles had fought over who you’d be a race engineer for, with the youngest pointing out that he would soon join the ferrari driver academy himself.

and so 2019 began, with charles driving for ferrari, while you gained experience working with the ferrari engineering academy. by the end of your final semester, you had been offered to continue your internship with the academy which you had accepted immediately.

2019 was also the year that your relationship became public, a series of events causing fans to go crazy. pictures of charles in a suit had gone viral after some of your classmates caught sight of him at your graduation, and while you weren’t in the pictures, fans were quick to theorize that his girlfriend was one of the students who was graduating.

speculations and theories about who you were had only just started when you made yourself known to the general f1 public, joining charles at french grand prix. it hadn’t been the plan, but after watching charles finish the race in p3 behind the mercedes, you couldn’t hold yourself back from wrapping your arms around your boyfriend and sharing a sweet kiss, unbeknownst to the cameras plastered everything to the big screens.

for the rest of the season, you made appearances on random race weekends, work being a lot more lenient than your university deadlines had ever been. fans had joked that you were his good luck charm, with charles ending up on a podium in every race you went to.

the belgian grand prix was a race weekend you could never forget, for more reasons than one. you were there to see anthoine’s crash, hand clasped with charles as you watched the scene pan out. you felt like you were eighteen again, sitting next to charles as you watched jules on the tv.

you had met anthoine quite a few times as you grew up for he, pierre, and charles had always been a tight-knit group. the frenchman had always been kind to you, and you found it hard to believe that he would no longer be cracking jokes with you about something pierre and charles had done while you were away.

both pierre and yourself had cried watching charles receive his award and dedicate his first win to anthoine. you wondered if he and jules were watching charles from above, smiling proudly for his accomplishment.

t was a home race that charles had won next, and the amount of people you had come across at work asking you to pass on a congratulations to charles was insane. you couldn’t complain though, you were proud charles was finally getting the recognition and love he deserved.

it was in italy where you celebrated your second anniversary, also. charles had gifted you a pretty necklace with his racing number on it, something you had worn ever since.

in late 2019, you had been given an opportunity to join prema racing as an engineer which you had happily accepted. as you all sat around the dinner table for christmas, you shared the exciting news. arthur had been ecstatic, explaining how he would be driving for prema racing starting 2020.

“stop pouting, charles,” arthur had rolled his eyes, catching sight of his brooding older brother, “je t'avais dit qu'elle serait mon ingénieur de course.” i told you she would be my race engineer.

charles gaped at his younger brother, “woah, woah, woah. qui a dit qu'elle était votre ingénieur de course?” who said anything about her being your racing engineer?

“cela doit arriver,” arthur had smirked, dodging the hand that charles has attempted to slap his head with. it’s bound to happen.

and so, you debuted as a racing engineer during a pandemic, something you had never imagined yourself saying. much like how you hadn’t imagined saying that you would be the racing engineer for one arthur leclerc.

much to charles’ chagrin, you remained arthur’s racing engineer for as long as he stayed in prema racing, which had been a total of three years. when it was revealed that arthur had signed with alfa romeo racing for the 2023 season, you had received multiple offers from other f1 teams to join as an engineer for their drivers.

charles himself had jumped at the opportunity, conducting a meeting with mattia to consider switching xavier out for you, presenting him with all of yours and arthur’s stats from the previous years. when word got out about you possibly becoming charles’ race engineer, ferrari fans from across the globe demanded that mattia offer you the job. at the end of the 2022 season, scuderia ferrari had released a statement that stated how you would be replacing xavier padros as charles leclerc’s race engineer for his future ferrari seasons.

it was christmas yet again, the sixth one since you had started dating charles, and said boyfriend couldn’t help but taunt his younger brother.

“je t'avais dit qu'elle serait à moi après tout.” told you she would be mine after all.

arthur waved him off, “oui, oui. elle était mon ingénieur en premier. et pendant trois ans, laissez-moi le dire.” yeah, yeah. she was my engineer first. and for three years, let me just put that out there.

you rolled your eyes, smacking the back of charles’ head before reaching over and tugging on arthur’s ear, “depuis quand suis-je un objet que vous pouvez posséder et faire circuler?” since when was i an object you guys could just own and pass around?

both brothers winced and avoided your eyes, mumbling a quick sorry before stuffing their mouths with food. pascale had laughed, always entertained when her boys got scolded by you.

the start of your first season with ferrari had gone amazingly, with both charles and the season’s car performing exceptionally well. charles had managed to secure a large gap in the points for the driver’s championship, leading the championship with two wins worth of points.

and that leads us to now, the final race of the 2023 season. the fight for the title had yet to be over, with charles and max flipping positions every few races. at the moment, max had been leading the wdc with only five more points than charles, said ferrari driver currently leading the race with the dutch driver hot on his tail.

“alright, char, we’ve got two more laps, you can do it. push, push.”

the sound of your voice had never failed to bring a smile on charles face, no matter how stressed he was when you spoke over the radio, “how’s it looking?”

“you’re quicker than max in all sectors but the last,” you read off your observations, “ideally, you’d want that last sector to be the quickest so that there’s no chance of him overtaking you. can you go any faster?”

you could hear the smile in his voice as he pushed his car to go faster, “of course, i can, cherié.”

you tsked, “no flirting on the job, leclerc. one lap remaining.”

the radio stayed silent for the next minute, charles focused on staying ahead of max who continued to put pressure on the monégasque from behind. you could see the red ferrari at the final turn, unable to keep the smile from growing as max’s tires locked up, increasing the gap between him and charles.

the mechanics began cheering loudly, rushing to the pit wall to cheer for your boyfriend who crossed the finish line first.

you had laughed loudy, “and that’s a checkered flag, mon amour! you are the 2023 world champion!”

charles exclaimed loudly over the radio, car slowing down for a cooldown lap. he let out a few whoops before settling down to give a quick message to the team, “excellent job, guys. wow, congratulations everyone. thank you for all of the hard work this season. today marks not only my first driver’s championship, but also our first constructor’s championship win since 2008.”

he continued to thank a few more people before letting out another ecstatic laugh. from across the pitwall, you could see arthur’s red and white car cross the finish line in fifth place.

“amour?” charles’ voice called out to you, “you there?”

“of course, champ. what’s up?” you gave mattia a confused look as he smiled at you.

“tu dirais oui si je te demandais d'être ma femme?” would you say yes if i asked you to be my wife?

your breath hitched in your throat. you felt like you were thrown back into 2017, twenty years old sitting on a swing while charles sat in the one next to you.

“je pense que oui,” you repeated, eyes beady with unshed tears, “veux-tu l'essayer?” i think i would. do you want to try it?

charles had rushed to you the second he parked his car, pulling you close to plant a kiss against your lips before he was whisked away rather quickly to complete his post-race duties.

in front of the cameras, charles expressed his absolute elation regarding winning the grand prix, as well as coming first in both championships. the interviewer congratulated the monégasque on getting most votes for driver of the day as well, before moving on to the question he knew everyone wanted an answer for.

“so, we all picked up on that last radio message there. can we expect to receive any happy news in the near future?”

charles had smiled and shrugged, “i guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

for the final podium of the season, as his race engineer and team principal, you and mattia would be joining charles. even after 26 years of being around him, your heart still raced when you saw charles join you two on the podium.

with the awards distributed, you had waited to get drenched with champagne, looking around confused when no one popped a bottle. charles got off his step, making his way towards you.

unlike his cheeky smile six years ago, the smile on his face today was tender. the crowd beneath the podium screamed loudly as he kneeled on his left knee. he did it right this time, you couldn’t help but smile.

just like he had done six years ago, he uttered your name, “y/n l/n,” instead of grabbing your hands this time, he held his hand out to mattia, who handed him a ring box.

charles opened the box and presented it to you, “me ferais-tu l'honneur d'être ma charmante femme?” would you do the honour of being my lovely wife?

and just like you had done six years ago, you pretended to contemplate, your smile peeking through as charles rolled his eyes at you playfully. you stuck your left hand out, wiggling your fingers, “j’aimerais.” i would love to.

the champagne bottles popped the second charles slipped the ring on your finger. you didn’t even care as the sweet champagne sprayed against your face and body, too wrapped up in the loving gaze of your fiancé.

and then, just like you had done for the first time under the rain six years ago, the two of you locked lips under the showers of champagne.

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riaki · 6 months

Text

a spritz of peppermint | megumi fushiguro x reader

pt.6 of christmas event! cw: petnames i think idk, not proofread, there’s probably other stuff i’m missing but wtv happy birthday the prettiest king pls come back the food is cold

today is a very special day.

megumi notices that you rise early— mostly because when he wakes up in the morning, rubbing his sleep-heavy eyes groggily with a groan, he notices you’re not there. he rolls over, and smacks his face into cold sheets, devoid of your heat.

it pisses him off. so he starts his special day out as a grouch.

when he eventually crawls out of bed and makes his way into the kitchen after pulling on some sweats, though— he stops just short of the threshold to that sweet smelling cozy haven you love to spend your time in. the scent of pine needles and fresh chocolate orange wafts across the space, warm and welcoming and awfully wintery. he’s impartial to the cold— but he likes seeing your nose get red, so he guesses that’s one point positive.

“megumi?” your soft voice drifts across the open space, and the frost around his grumpy heart melts just a little; a crack in the frozen surface of the lake.

he reluctantly emerges from the shadow of the hallway, past the bundle of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. the thought causes a memory to flash across his mind— your sweet smile and your prettier laugh; a distinct feeling of fuzzy warmth like a knitted sweater spreading across his cheeks when you pulled him close by the sleeve of his shirt and leaned in—

he shakes his head, trying to dash the stray thought. he’s supposed to be mad. it has no right to be there.

“why’d you get up so early?” he sighs heavily as he joins you at your side, scratching the back of his neck and running a hand through his unruly hair. you smiled sheepishly, turning to face him and you wrap your arms around his middle, squeezing lightly as a silent apology. he takes it with a grumble, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his face in your hair to bask in the scent of home before pulling away.

“it’s a secret.” you grinned, and he glares down at you, clicking his teeth in annoyance. you just laugh like the angel you are, leaving no room for guilt. you’re wearing one of his sweaters; you smell like him, and he supposes it makes up for the way you ditched him this morning.

“i expect compensation.” he grumbles, leaning against the counter as he watches you move about the kitchen, pale winter sunlight painting you like an ethereal dancer beneath the surface of misty lake water, crystal clear in your beauty. it’s mesmerizing.

you laughed, and his teeth dig into his bottom lip. “what, missed me? were you feeling lonely, gumi?” you smiled.

he just shoots you a piercing glare, the color of icicles in his eyes, but the warmth of your grin melts it away. you spend the next few moments in a comfortable silence, preparing a french toast topped with sweet berries and powdered sugar that looks so soft megumi could probably sink into it, until your lovely voice breaks the crisp morning silence.

“want black coffee?”

…

that’s weird. he never hesitates. and you know he takes his coffee black; of course you do. not because he wants to look cool, or look suave in another person’s eyes… well, except for you, of course. but not in the area of caffeine doses. and to be perfectly clear, all he needs is a dose of you to get him going.

he clears his throat. “can you make me hot chocolate?”

you pause, and he almost wants to bite his tongue off. why is he so embarrassed? but you just chuckle, like morning bird song across fresh dew on the grass.

“switching it up, huh? that’s cute.” you hum, and his face burns hot like embers in a brick fireplace. he coughs, throat scratchy like the pricks of a pinecone— but you make no note of it, simply going about your day.

he’s content to watch as you fish around in the rum-colored cabinets, pulling out a crinkly bag of cocoa powder. you put him on milk microwaving duty and he busies himself, lithe pale fingers unscrewing the carton of milk and pouring it into his favorite little painted dog mug. you were the one who’d made it; that silly little ceramics class you insisted on taking clearly didn’t help you too much in the way of smoothing down the bumps and blotches on the mug, but it holds your fingerprint, so he might as well memorize the shape of your hands when you’re not there.

megumi’s snapped back to reality when you grab a candy cane from the mini tree you decorated together sitting on the kitchen counter, smashing it up in the wrappings to mix the pepperminty dust with the cocoa powder. he eyes the pile of holiday drug warily as he brings the steaming mug over, placing it before you and leaning against the counter again to watch you work your mystery magic.

“that looks like brown cocai—”

“shh, megumi. keep your pretty mouth shut, please.”

he’s about to butt in again, lips parted before he presses them together irritatedly and resigns to sulk in silence.

you pour the hot chocolate mix into the milk, swishing it together as it forms a pretty spiral of cocoa; the color of dark chai and chocolate tart. he’s content to watch in silence, humming some christmas carol he’d overheard you listening to one gray afternoon— until he realizes you’re opening a bag of those sickeningly sweet and fluffy marshmallows he’d bought you on a whim. he only did it because his mentor told him they made the best gifts, but he’s beginning to realize it was the sweet tooth talking.

“hey— wait… are you going to put those in there, pretty?” he asks, putting a gentle hand on your wrist to stop you from vigorously emptying the bag into his poor victimized hot chocolate mug.

you glance up at him and flash a toothy grin, giving him one of those looks that makes his heart skip a beat. “trust me, gumi! you’re gonna love it.” you laughed, shrugging his hand off, and his lips curve downward. less because of the marshmallows that are toppling into his mug with a splash and more so because you freed yourself from his grasp.

obviously, you notice— your eyebrows knit together, a pinch of guilt weighing upon them like the snow on the streets outside. but it’s wiped away as quickly as it comes; before he knows it, you’re walking away with a bounce in your step, disappearing behind the counter before re-emerging with something behind your back.

“don’t look so sad, gumi. here,” you say, the cadence of your voice as soft and playful as he ever remembers it being when you pull a bunch of roses from behind your back. the bouquet is small and there’s dirt clinging to the stems— but his heart melts at the thought that you hand-picked them, prickly thorns and all, for him. “happy birthday,” you whispered, and his walls break.

“you’re not so different from them, you know.” you hummed, smiling as he takes them from you and gives you an inquisitive, quiet look. “you might be a little prickly on the outside, but you’re just as beautiful. you just have to look a little past the thorns.”

he feels his face flush; at this point, it’s probably as red as the stray candy cane shavings melting in his mug and the vibrant petals of the roses. he splutters and mumbles something annoyed under his breath, but he’s sure you can hear the undercurrent of fondness and affection weaves into each syllable like the beats of his heart, where you’re so close to. megumi thinks you might’ve just cut him open and made a home in his ribcage.

the bunch of handpicked roses for his special day sit on the marble counter dusted with cocoa powder and candy cane shavings, marshmallows bobbing at the surface of his hot chocolate like apples in a bucket as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in to press his lips insistently to yours, slow and tender like the way he always loves you. his hands curl around your sides, as if to ground you there; freeze the time in this bubble of warmth, forgetting the chill outside to warm his hands on your skin. you’re so little in his arms; he wants to hold you and never let you go, to keep you under his tree and have you make hot chocolate for him instead of black coffee every morning he wakes up, because it’s fine if you’re not there in bed— as long as you’re waiting for him with open arms elsewhere.

and when he kisses you, he realizes he might not need his hot cocoa to warm his stomach— your lips are as soft and pillowy sweet as the marshmallows melting in his mug, filled with steaming hot cocoa and all the love he could ever wrap his heart in this cozy winter; his christmas gift to you.

he’s grateful today is a special day, if only because of you and his sweet little painted dog mug filled with your heartwarming love.

stop this was so close to being late my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

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