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sv5hive · 2 months

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c'est toujours toi | cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

content warning(s): mixture of my bad french and google translate bcos in 5 years of learning that language i didn't pick up anything useful (if anyone wants to suggest any improvements please do!!)

word count: 951

note: i had to rewrite this 3 times bcos i didn't like it and it's past midnight again. help.

(masterlist!)

darkness encapsulated the room before a video flickered onto the screen and the guests fell silent. a sense of familiarity filled you as you realised just what you were about to watch.

"maman, arrête! c'est bon!" (mum, stop! it's fine!)

the boy pushed his mothers hands away trying to adjust his clothes.

"d'accord! mais c'est ton mariage." (ok! but it's your wedding.)

as much as the woman wanted to take her son seriously, she couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

they were enjoying a picnic in the park as a family when their three sons decided to go wander off and give their parents some relief. it hadn't even been fifteen minutes when their middle child had come tumbling back towards them saying that he was going to get married.

they had almost laughed but the boy was showing no hint of amusement on his face. it was then that their two other children returned with a little girl wearing a pink dress in the middle of them. once they reached them, the boy introduced her.

"c'est ma petite amie!" (this is my girlfriend!) he proudly showed her off to his parents as if to prove a point that he wasn't just telling tales this time.

his parents simply stared at the pair in disbelief and shock.

a tiny, almost inaudible, "bonjour" came from the girl as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. they could barely hear her over the birds chirping.

"charles! tu ne peux pas faire ça. où sont ses parents?" (charles! you can't do that. where are her parents?) his mother wasted no time in scolding the three boys for taking the girl away from her family.

before anyone else could reply, the girl came to their defence.

"mes parents sont à la maison. désolé de vous inquiéter, madame leclerc, mais on peut se marier maintenant?" (my parents are at home. sorry to worry you, mrs. leclerc, but can we get married now?)

"tu es sûre que, chérie? charles est un garçon très désordonné!" (are you sure, darling? charles is a very messy boy!)

"papa!" the boy blushed at his father embarrassing him for fun.

"je vais lui apprendre à ranger, ne vous inquiètez pas!" (i'll teach him how to clean up, don't worry!)

the two adults went along with the plans to make them happy and began preparing for an impromptu wedding as best they could. his father would walk her down the aisle, his younger brother would be his best man while his older brother would be the officiant, and his mother would record the special occasion on their camera.

an imitation of 'here comes the bride' was attempted and although it was pretty much unrecognisable, you could take a well educated guess given the circumstances. the boy's father leaned down to hold the girl's hand as he walked her down the makeshift aisle with daisies and buttercups sprinkled over the grass. she whispered a quiet "merci" and soon enough the bride and groom were face to face with each other.

the older boy quickly stepped into his improvised role of the officiant with what little knowledge he had and introduced the few guests to the ceremony. after all the formalities, it was finally time for vows.

"je promets de toujours t'aimer comme ma maman et mon papa. je jouerai avec toi tous les jours et te donnerai tous mes jouets." (i promise to always love you like my mum and dad. i will play with you every day and give you all my toys.)

the boy reached out to hold the girl's hands and bumbled through his vows which only included everything that was important to him, of course.

the girl blushed and went ahead with her vows which were just as innocent and clumsy as his were.

"je promets de t'aider à nettoyer tes bêtises et de vous soutenir lorsque vous deviendrez pilote de course!" (i promise to help you clean your messes and support you when you become a racing driver)

despite only having met an hour beforehand, the two had clearly bonded and learnt much about each other.

"vous pouvez maintenant embrasser la mariée!" (you may now kiss the bride!)

cheers erupted as the boy took a brave step forward and pecked the girl's cheek to her pleasant surprise.

whistles and claps echoed through the room from your family and friends as the screen faded to black and the lights were switched back on. the reception was just starting and the guests had left their tables to eat, dance and mingle. the bittersweet nostalgia had brought tears to your eyes and you had to blink them back to be able to see clearly. you couldn't believe you had forgotten the day you two met.

you were brought back down to earth when you felt a hand squeeze yours.

"tu va bien, ma chérie?" (are you okay, darling?)

you turned to the man beside you and squeezed his hand back before replying.

"ouais, mon amour. je ne pourrais aller mieux. regarde comme on était petit!" (yes, my love. i couldn't be better. look how little we were!)

charles laughed and kissed your temple. sometimes he found it hard to believe how lucky he was to find you that day. he found it even harder to believe that you two were finally married now. after years of friendship and not so secretly pining for each other, he had finally been bold enough to make a move.

"dès que je t'ai vu, j'ai su que j'allais t'épouser. c'est toujours toi, mon trésor." (as soon as i saw you, i knew i was going to marry you. it's always you, my treasure.)

#cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc fic

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footballfanficwriter · 5 months

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Absent

Summary:where Kylian promises his son to be there for his match but doesn't show

Maman ou est papa" ( Mom where is Dad?")

"Je ne sais pas, ma chérie" ( I don't know my darling))

Kylian was supposed to be here by now, Théo is playing today after being on the bench because of an injury, Kylian promised he would be there but I don't think he will

I try calling him for the 5th time today and it goes straight to voicemail

I sigh and look at my son whose putting his cleats on

"Is he coming?"

"I don't think so Théo"

He looks at me with a sad look that I instantly want to remove from his face

He hugs me tightly and I hug him back, I then pull away and look at him, then wipe away the tears that have escaped his eyes

"Je suis la, amour" ( I'm here, love)

"Ok Maman, je t'aime beaucoup" ( ok mom, I love you so much)

"Je t'aime beaucoup aussi Théo" (I love you so much as well Théo)

"I don't want to go"

"C'mon, you'll do great"

"But he's not here"

"Yeah, but I am, do it for me, can you play for me today Théo?"

"Ok, I'll play for you mom"

"Merci, ok now go"

He hands me his bag and waves at me, I wave back at him and give him a smile

I make my way to the stands and watch Théo, I pick my phone up and try to call Kylian again, maybe he can make it just in time before the second half, but it's no use it goes straight to voicemail again

The match starts and I put my phone away giving up on calling Kylian, I just want to focus on my son's match

The first half goes on and I see Théo look my way, then the empty seat next to me

He looks sad, angry and frustrated

The ref blows the whistle indicating that the second half has begun

Théo, sprints to the opponent and manages to get the ball

He passes it to one of his teammates then his teammate passes back to him, he dribbles past the defender and shoots the ball, then scores

He celebrates and points to me,blows a kiss towards me then makes a heart

I stand up and clap for him and he mouths "I love you mom"

I mouth back to him, "I love you too Théo"

By the 90th minute Théo's team has won 5-0 and Théo has scored 3 goals and assisted in the other 2

After the match he walks up to me and I hand him his water bottle

"Good job honey I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks mom"

I pick him up and he lays his head on my shoulder

"Can we please go home now"

"Ok, let's go"

I walk to the car and put him in the back seat, we then drive home in silence, and I'm occasionally glancing back to see him with a sad look on his face

"Théo"

"Maman?"

"Are you hungry?"

"No, I just wanna go home"

"Do you want to play FC24, when we get home?"

"No, I'm just tired, I think I'm going to sleep"

I give him a look that says really

"After I take a bath"

"Don't you want to spend some time with me, we can watch cars, or monsters inc., any movie you want to watch"

"Yeah, maybe after my nap"

"Ok, hey you know I was thinking maybe we can make cookies, do you want to help?"

"Not today mom, I don't think I'm in the mood"

"Ok, do you want me to help you with your bath?"

"No, I'm a big boy, I can do it myself"

"Ok"

The rest of the car ride is silent until we get home

Théo, gets out of the car and walks into the house while dragging his bag with him

I sigh and walk into the house and find his cleats and shoes placed neatly in the little shoe cupboard, usually I have to tell him to it, but today seems different

I go to the kitchen and get started on dinner

"Maman"

"Mhm?"

"Can you please help me"

I turn around, and see Théo struggling to take his shirt off

I slightly chuckle and walk towards him to help him

"What happened to the big boy?"

"He needs his mom's help"

"Clearly"

I help him take his shirt off then carry him to the bathroom, then open the taps making sure that the water is the right temperature for him, I then add his favorite bubble bath into the water, and he gets in

He puts some bubbles on his hair and starts playing with his bath toys

"What type of big boy plays with toys in the bath?"

"Ok fine, I'm still a small boy"

I chuckle and start bathing him, afterwards I wrap him up in a towel then carry him to his room and place him on the bed, and start taking out some clothes

He moisturizes himself then put on the clothes that I laid out for him

"Do you still want to take your nap"

He nods his head in a tired way and climbs onto his bed, grabs a thrower and lays his head on the pillow, I kiss his forehead and he smiles saying

"Thank you mommy"

"You're welcome Théo"

I walk out of his room and go back to the kitchen to continue making dinner

After 2 hours I hear the front door open, he's here

He walks into the kitchen and looks at me but I ignore his gaze

"Ça va, amour"

"Amour"

"Ma chérie"

He walks closer to me but i move away

"Lassie Moi" I say (leave me alone)

"C'est quoi le problème?" He asks ( what's the matter?)

"Ah bon, t'es sérieuse, Kylian" I ask ( really, are you serious Kylian?)

"C'est quoi c'est pas" ( what happened?")

"C'est ton fils, il est triste" I say ( it's your son, he's sad)

"Mais pourquoi" he asks (but why?)

"Pasque il son père" (because of his dad)

"Moi?" (Me?)

"Oui, toi" ( yes you)

"What did I do now?"

"So you didn't know that your son was playing today, after he told you two weeks ago and kept reminding you so you wouldn't forget"

He looks at me with shock, like I've just told him the most suprising news

"Mon Dieu, Kylian he even told you this morning before he went to school"

"He's match was today?"

I let out a frustrated sigh

"Where were you even, huh, and why was you phone going to voicemail everytime I tried calling you?"

"I was with Archaf, and I lost track of time"

"You lost track of time doing what?"

He's quiet

"What were you doing Kylian?"

"I was busy"

"You know what I don't even want to know, just get away from me"

"Where is Théo anyway"

"He's sleeping, he took a bath and went straight to bed"

I hear him sigh behind me

"I'm sorry"

"You're apologizing to the wrong person"

"Then I'll go and apologize to Théo"

"No he's asleep, don't wake him up"

"So what must I do then?"

"I don't care, just don't bother the child"

He goes upstairs and goes to our shared room, I the hear the shower taps, indicating that he's taking a shower

30 minutes later, I'm done making dinner and it seems Kylian is done taking his shower and he walks downstairs

I dish up 3 plates of food then go to the table and place them there

I then go upstairs to wake Théo up

"Théo"

"Amour"

He opens his eyes and looks at me

"Maman?"

"Ouies, c'est Moi amour, est que faim" (yeah it's me love, are you hungry?"

"Oui je faim" (yes, I'm hungry)

"On y va"(let's go)

I pick him up and we go downstairs,when we get to the dining table we find Kylian already there waiting for us, I place Théo in the seat next to me, where there's a plate of food

We eat dinner in silence until Kylian breaks it

"Théo"

"Papa"

"Je suis très désolé, mon fils"

"C'est bien papa"

"Ah bon?"

He nods his head

"But why were you not there, how come you didn't come to my match?" Théo asks with his voice slightly breaking

Kylian looks at me and I look at Théo

"I was busy" Kylian says

"With what"

"Théo, arrête ici c'est pas ton problème" (Théo, stop, this is not your problem"

"Ouies mais c'est mon problème" I say (yeah but it's my problem)

"Je travaillerai" he says ( I was working)

"Avec quoi?( with what?)

"Rien" ( nothing)

"T'es sérieuse, t'es fou ou quoi, t'es travaille avec rien?" (are you serious, are you mad or what, you were working with nothing?)

"Oui" he says (yes)

"You must think I'm an idiot"

"But I was working"

"Papa, s'il te plaît" Théo says (dad please)

"Théo, this is non of your business"

"Then why weren't you there?" Théo asks

"I was busy"(Kylian says)

"Théo, arrête je parle avec ton père, go to your room" I say ( Théo, stop, I'm talking to your dad)

He gets out of his seat and walks upstairs

"Are you serious, are you not going to tell me what you were so busy with that you had to miss your son's first match, after the injury he had?"

"All you need to know is that I was busy"

"Are you cheating on me?"

"What, no"

"Then what were you so busy with"

"Nothing"

"Fine, since you don't want to tell me, I'll be sleeping with Théo today" I say standing up from my seat, "you can sleep in the guest room or on the sofa, also do the dishes before you go to bed"

I walk upstairs and go to Théo's room

"C'mon, let's go" I say

"Where are we going?"

"To my room"

"Why?"

"You're sleeping with me"

"Can we watch movies and stay up all night"

"Yeah, we can"

"Can we start with Marvel movies"

"I was thinking the same thing"

We go back downstairs and pick out some snacks for the movie

"Not so many sweets Théo"

"Ok"

After picking some snacks and deciding what movies to watch, we go back upstairs to my room and put the movie on the TV

I tuck Théo into the bed and his tiny head sticks out from under the covers

"Maman?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Daddy going to leave us forever?"

"No, my love, he's not, me and your father are just having a bit of a disagreement"

"What's that?"

"It's when two people don't see eye to eye on something, but in the end they always work it out"

"You promise?"

"I promise Amour, now stop worrying about that and let's focus on the movie,ok?"

"Ok"

The rest of the night is spent watching movies till the early hours of the morning

Théo eventually falls asleep, cuddled up to me like I'm a teddy bear

I switch the TV off and kiss Théo's forehead and he snuggles into me, I close my eyes and fall asleep

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agendabymooner · 3 months

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about names: the show and tell || cl16 scenario (3)

dad!charles leclerc x mom!ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

EXTENSION OF OF LONG LINES AND NAMES AND THE LECLERC DAYCARE

Summary: The Leclerc boys and their names go hand in hand. OR times when Charles and his wife Aimee had to explain that their children’s names are meaningful.

Scenario summary: PJ Leclerc’s kindergarten class calls for a family name show and tell — and who would make better presenters than his Uncle Pierre? OR the middle Leclerc child learns more about his namesakes as he and his parents continue to develop his school project.

Content warning: Uncle Pierre Gasly, storyteller!Pierre, a very cooperative child (?), kids being kids, wholesome content, using a no-no word once, PJ Leclerc (OC) centred, appearances of Alain and Anthoine Leclerc (OC), brief appeaarance of Toto Wolff and Tilly Wolff (OFC), dad!Charles 🔛🔝

Note: I'm sorry I dipped y'all 😩 it's been hard- I've been trying to write but for some reason everything's going bad. In the meantime, enjoy this scenario xx

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

With his nose scrunched up in concentration, his hand gripped the jumbo-sized pencil and traced over the dotted letters shakily. Close. He was so close.

He squinted slightly before pausing, looking around for a moment before he continued to pursue his goal— get this over with. And with a dot, he grinned at himself before turning to see Mademoiselle Julie approaching his table. His peers continued to work on their take-home handbooks, while he was the first to finish his writing.

Mademoiselle Julie, the young homeroom teacher of his kindergarten class, wordlessly peered at his handiwork— shaky writing traced over the dotted lines — and beamed at him proudly as she complimented, “Bonne écriture, PJ!” Good writing, PJ!

“Merci, Mademoiselle Julie!” PJ Leclerc continued to show his set of teeth, proud of himself for being complimented by his teacher.

Mademoiselle Julie spread out the sheets of stickers that she held, showing the various kinds of colourful stickers as she asked, “What would you like for your handbook today?”

The boy hummed quietly, his hazel eyes skimming through the sheets on her hands as they gleamed in joy. “McQueen, please!”

“Oh? Cars?” Mademoiselle Julie chuckled before peeling the glossy sticker off its sheet, sticking it on the reminder writing that he wrote down today. “Your papa will like that, don’t you think so?”

It was no surprise that everyone knew who PJ’s father was. Charles Leclerc continued to be a household name— one that was born and raised in the principality of Monaco that later on became Monaco’s pride. You weren’t from Monaco if you didn’t know who he is— and you were a disgrace if you didn’t understand his legacy and you live in Monaco. So for Mademoiselle Julie to mention PJ’s father wasn’t anything new.

They treated the Leclerc children as generational royalties but respected them as kids in the same community as others. Charles got himself as involved as he could with his children’s education even if there was an ongoing season he needed to attend and participate.

Normalcy was what he lacked in other parts of the world, being a Formula One driver and all, whereas he was nothing but a son of his mother, a father of five kids and a husband of his children’s mother in the principality.

His career was often mentioned in conversations, but that was only because his children were some of the proudest kids to have existed. They’d tell others that their father would take them driving and that their father was a driver — and they had every right to say so. It was a discussion that was welcomed but never encouraged to rub in the faces of the children.

“No!” PJ giggled. “Da loves Lotso!”

“I thought you liked Lotso?” Mademoiselle Julie brought up.

“Yeah, but Da loves Lotso too! Me and Da loves Lotso!”

“Well, maybe you can get him and your Maman to love McQueen too, PJ. Tell them you got a Cars sticker. It’s red like your Da’s car, no?”

“Mon amour,” Charles called from the children’s study room, his face showing curiosity while he carried his youngest son, little Alain, in his arm while the other held an opened handbook. “Aimee?”

One of their eldest kids, Jules, tugged on Aimee’s trousers lightly, “Maman. Da is calling you,” he announced quietly, turning back to his homework as Aimee looked up from the screen of her laptop. The Leclerc matriarch smiled gratefully at Jules before standing on her feet, departing from the family room across the hall to meet Charles halfway through.

“Charles? What’s happening?” She asked, only for the aforementioned man to raise the handbook slightly. “That’s PJ’s handbook.”

“Yeah, and it says that there’s an email being sent today about an event,” Charles furrowed his brow. “Did you receive anything?”

“I did, actually— I was going to mention it after dinner but it must’ve slipped off my mind,” Aimee watched her words carefully — not wanting Alain to hear her words, “fuc— silly Lando.”

“Siwy Wando!” Alain mimicked.

“Exactly, darling. Silly Uncle Lando,” the parents laughed.

“Work again?” Charles chuckled as Aimee rolled her eyes at the comment.

“Try working behind the scenes and have drivers that refuse to be trained in the media,” Aimee responded with a huff, “not that you’d understand— you’re just as dense as Lando and Oscar at times.”

Charles only laughed and shook his head. “Seriously, you were saying something about the email?”

“Right,” Aimee nodded. “Julie sent an email today to the guardians about a presentation project for PJ’s class. It’s a show and tell.”

“Oh,” Charles uttered, “that should be easy. We did that with Hervé and Jules before.”

“It’s not even just that,” Aimee added, “Julie’s a new teacher and Herb and J’s teacher did a show and tell about careers right? She wants a presentation about family.”

“Huh,” Charles said quietly. What did that even mean?

“She said it could be anything,” Aimee continued, “I tried asking PJ if he had anything in mind— but what does a child know about complex factors of families?”

“Amour,” Charles laughed. “He’s five. Did you maybe ask if he wants to talk about his uncles or aunts? Or even his grandparents?”

They both stood there, silence comfortably setting the atmosphere between the two of them before Aimee came up with something.

“What if—“ Aimee paused and pursed her lips, “both Jules and H asked about their names before. What if we talk about PJ’s name?”

Charles looked at his wife in confusion, little Alain stared at his father before he babbled. Charles glanced at his son for a moment before looking at Aimee once more.

“It only makes sense,” Aimee shrugged. “Since either of us are presenting to his peers and their other guardians— why don’t we talk about his names?”

The Ferrari driver thought about it for a moment. His sons and their names meant a lot for the couple, with them being named after people that meant so much — people that both Charles and Aimee looked up to.

Sacha ‘PJ’ Leclerc, much like his brothers, was named after the people that gave meaning to Charles and Aimee’s relationship and their lives way before the kids came along. It only makes sense that the couple answer the questions of who were the kids named after.

Especially when PJ’s teacher, Julie, grew curious about the boy’s nickname. His name was Sacha yet the adults called him PJ— why?

“Okay,” Charles nodded, “we can do that.”

“One condition,” Charles continued, making Aimee nod.

His slight scowl was mimicked by little Alain as Charles spoke, “I’m not messing with the glitter glues.”

“No gwue!” Alain exclaimed as if he struggled with the glittery sticky material before.

“Whaaat~” Aimee giggled before rolling her eyes playfully. “So dramatic, you two are. And I thought you'd be like your Maman, Alan.”

“Maman just called us dramatic, Alain,” Charles gasped playfully. “Silly Maman. We’re no drama queens! We just don’t like glitter glues!”

“Bleh!” Alain stuck his tongue out.

“Nuh uh, we don’t stick our tongue out to Maman, Alan bebe! Just say no glue, hm?”

“No gwue, Maman.”

The very first step of the project was to get PJ to cooperate and help his parents build the presentation. After all, it was his class’ show and tell— it was his project.

The five-year-old was fast to agree. He was a saint of some sort, that little man. In comparison to his older brothers, Charles and Aimee never struggled to get him to listen and his calm demeanour was what made him distinct from the Leclerc boys.

They always said that the middle children were the menaces to society. PJ’s cousin Tia Wolff was evidence of that. His aunt, Aimee’s sister Sylvie, was also a prime example of a middle-child menace. But PJ was nothing of the sort. He behaved whenever he was asked to behave. He did everything he was asked.

So getting him to cooperate wasn’t all bad. He did need to stop making fun of his father for disliking the glitter glues though.

Charles still remembered how he came to his driver's briefing a few races ago after making crafts with his kids at his motorhome. He also remembered how everyone laughed at the never-ending shimmering effect on his skin as he kept rubbing on them. Glitters were something that Charles swore he’d never touch ever again.

Anyway.

As the deadline and the day of the presentation approached, everyone seemed to be invested in helping out with the project as well. Pascale and her other sons Arthur and Lorenzo visited almost every day and whenever they could, they’d drop some feedback.

Arthur was a useless piece of shit, as always. Charles wanted to be the best role model for his kids but if his younger brother kept saying that PJ’s first name Sacha came from Sriracha he wouldn’t be able to help himself and eventually set Arthur straight.

When Charles returned from his meeting in Maranello, though, he was more than surprised to see his niece and nephews in his family room as they helped PJ set up the pictures on the trifold board.

“Da!” Jules said, making the kids look up from the entryway as their eyes glimmered.

“Oncle Shal!” His youngest nephew from Toto, Adelmo, exclaimed as he waved the glitter glue around.

“Oh hi, Elmo and Tia,” Charles shot Jules a confused look as if to ask ‘Shouldn’t these kids be in England?’, only for the boy to shrug.

“Maman est dans la cuisine avec l'oncle Toto et la tante Tilly,” Maman is in the kitchen with Uncle Toto and Aunt Tilly. Jules told his father as Charles smiled gratefully.

“And your brothers? Herb and the younger ones?” Charles asked.

PJ, still looking down at the board with his cousins Tia and Adelmo, replied aloud, “Hervé est en train de lire un livre. Alain et Anthoine sont avec Maman dans la cuisine. « Snacking », c'est ce que maman a dit.” Hervé is reading a book. Alain and Anthoine are with Maman in the kitchen. “Snacking” is what I think Maman said.

“Ah, oui, merci Sacha,” Charles told his middle child before ruffling Jules’ curly hair before he walked off to find the adults in the kitchen.

Charles then found his wife with her sister, Tilly, and her brother-in-law, Toto by the kitchen island. There on the counters sat Anthoine and Alain, munching on some crackers as they tried to keep up with the conversation they knew nothing of.

Anthoine saw Charles immediately and exclaimed, “Maman! ‘s Da!”

“Da!” Alain grinned.

“Hallo, bébés,” Charles grinned before he reached out to peck them in the cheeks. He then kissed Aimee on the forehead, turning to look at his in-laws in the process as he nodded, “Tilly, Toto— I didn’t expect you guys to head to Monaco this early.”

Tilly chuckled, “Early vacation for all of us. We’re staying in the holiday home for a month, at least.”

“Ah! C'est très agréable,” that’s very nice. Charles nodded with a smile. “Are the kids okay with that?”

Toto snorted, “They have to be.”

“Tia’s next races are taking place in France,” Tilly added. “Nice, actually. So it’s quite near if we just stayed here in the principality for the next few weekends.”

“I honestly did not expect to have a full workshop in the family room,” Charles joked. “I was expecting to maybe have PJ working on his project but they just doubled in the room— none of them were even my twins.”

“We came over when Aimee mentioned the project,” Toto laughed. “I’m surprised you went ahead with the idea.”

“You know how much it means for us to talk about the kids’ names,” Charles shrugged.

“Well, pray tell,” Tilly gave them a puzzled look, “who’s going to present it? I assume you two would want to do it but—“

“Oh no, not us,” Charles and Aimee shook their heads as the Monegasque continued, “We have someone do it for us.”

Toto’s brows furrowed, “I don’t recall you guys asking me.”

Aimee chuckled, “Not you. Silly Toto.”

“Siwwy Toto!” The adults turned at the twin toddlers as Alain and Anthoine synchronously mimicked Aimee.

But the Leclerc parents were right, they wanted the presentation to be perfect and they had the right man for the audience.

After all, the Alpine driver had always bragged about being the reason why Charles’ middle child got the nickname ‘PJ’.

“Hello, hello! Dear friends of PJ Leclerc and the parents of the friends of PJ Leclerc!”

Charles and Aimee sighed, hiding their faces in embarrassment as they stood at the back of the classroom with the rest of the parents and the homeroom teacher, Mademoiselle Julie.

Charles and Aimee looked at each other, unsure if they should laugh or pity themselves as Pierre Gasly sat on the tiny chair at the front.

The kids were sitting on the floor, facing the Alpine driver as the finished product — the trifold board — was displayed next to him to show the kids.

Pierre introduced himself, “I am Pierre Gasly. I am this boy’s,” he gestured to PJ who sat on the floor right in front of him, “godfather. And today—“

“But Monsieur,” a little girl piped up, raising her hand politely as Pierre paused and nodded for her to continue, “I thought you were a driver?”

“He is, Claudia!” PJ exclaimed with a wide grin, making the parents at the back laugh. PJ then continued, “He drives for Alpine!”

“Alright, little P, let’s calm down,” Pierre giggled quietly. Then he answered the girl, Claudia as PJ called her, with, “Yes I am a driver like PJ’s dad, but right now I am here for PJ as his godfather.”

“Now, who here knows PJ as Sacha?” Most people, hell even the adults at the back, raised their hands as Pierre nodded, “Okay. Well, you see— PJ’s Maman and Papa gave him a reallyyyy reallyyyy long name that the hospital can’t even fit the whole thing in.”

Charles, who stood amongst the giggling parents, leaned over to his wife and whispered in her ear, “I told you that having Pierre do this is a poor idea, Ami.”

“Shh,” Aimee laughed quietly, nudging Charles a little.

“But! They gave those names to PJ because they mean a lot,” Pierre pointed at the full name displayed as a header. “Now, Sacha- it means defender. PJ’s Papa said that PJ, when he was in his Maman’s little tummy, was quiet and a good boy. But he kicks hard like he could play football.”

The kids giggled, PJ laughing along.

“So, his Papa and Maman said that he is a gentle one, but he can be fierce- like a defending warrior!” Pierre told the class and showed emotions for the dramatic effect. The kids looked up at him in awe. “So they said that his name will be Sacha!”

“But wait…” Pierre paused dramatically and looked around, “There is another name.”

“Niki,” Pierre pointed at the middle name. “Who here has watched Formula One?” Everyone raised their hands. “Of course you have- this is Monaco! Anyway, Niki Lauda was a very good driver. He was one of the greatest Formula One drivers— PJ’s Maman and Papa looked up to Niki as he drove for both Scuderia Ferrari and McLaren.”

“Do you wanna know something?” Pierre leaned over as if he was going to whisper a secret, “PJ’s Maman is the goddaughter of Niki Lauda.”

Meanwhile, at the back, Aimee was laughing quietly at Pierre’s dramatic presentation.

Charles gave her a puzzled look as Aimee looked up and murmured, “He can be a good preschool teacher if he has the patience for kids.”

Charles snickered, “Good luck with that.”

“So of course… Sacha Niki… Oh, what’s that?” Pierre pointed at his own name. “Pierre.”

“That’s your name!” The boy next to PJ gasped and turned to look at the aforementioned boy, “PJ, your name is like his!”

PJ eagerly nodded but didn’t say anymore as Pierre continued. “I have been his Papa’s very best friend since we were kids! That’s why I am PJ’s godfather and that is why they named him Pierre.”

“That’s so cool, PJ,” the other kids told the child, who blushed slightly at the attention given to him.

Pierre chuckled at this before he moved the children’s attention towards the last name. “Philippe,” he said, now watching the kids pay attention.

“PJ’s Maman had a grandfather that she loved the most,” Pierre explained to the kids. “PJ’s aunts and Maman love him so much and his name is Philip Hearth.” He pointed at the picture at the bottom of the ‘Philippe’ header.

There, a photo of a baby Aimee being held by her grandfather was displayed. At the bottom of it showed a portrait photo of Philip and his time at the F1 tracks and other factories of his company.

“Philip owned Ferrari and McLaren,” Pierre nodded, “he was good friends with Enzo Ferrari and many famous drivers- in fact, he made some drivers’ careers possible by putting money into the teams and providing resources. He made dreams come true!”

“PJ’s Maman loved her grandfather so much that she named PJ after him,” Pierre grinned. The way Pierre’s storytelling was heartwarming for both Charles and Aimee, as he had been enthusiastic about this whole ordeal— it showed them that their children meant a lot to Pierre.

“And that’s it,” Pierre concluded. “That’s the story of the name of Sacha Niki Pierre Philippe. Now— who has some questions?”

The question portion started there. And the Alpine driver was ready to conclude the presentation when Claudia raised her hand as Pierre nodded at her.

“If his name is Sacha…” Pierre nodded, encouraging the little girl to nod, “Then why is he called PJ?”

Everyone seemed curious too. But Aimee and Charles both knew why he was called PJ rather than Sacha.

It was at Pierre’s insistence that Sacha Leclerc was destined to be Pierre Junior. He had established this as soon as Aimee and Charles arrived from the hospital the day after Sacha was born.

But Pierre’s answer was partially different from what had happened, “His Maman and Papa said that he is Pierre Junior! Like me!”

Pierre grinned at Aimee and Charles’ baffled looks.

“The audacity,” Aimee scoffed.

Charles chuckled, “Oh, Mon Dieu.”

They’d have to talk to Pierre about changing certain narratives. It was okay to lie to be a wingman for your best friend, but lying to the kids about what happened with PJ’s nickname?

Yeah, he needed some talking to.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @hiireadstuff @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @scorpiomindfuck

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thebearchives · 2 years

Text

daddy day care | PG10

PAIRING: dad!pierre gasly x mom!reader

REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

SYNOPSIS: you and charlotte leave your children home with their fathers to go and enjoy a day out. what could possibly go wrong?

WARNINGS: fluff!!!, dad!piarles (need i say more?), piarles banter, kids being kids, french + translations

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

“are you sure?” you couldn’t hide the worry seeping out of your words, “i can cancel if you want, we could just spend a night in with the leclercs.”

pierre’s hands rubbed up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you, “mon coeur, we will be fine. you and charlotte have been planning this day out for weeks, you deserve to go out.”

to ease your apprehension, he couldn’t help but crack a joke, “i feel like i should be insulted you think i can’t handle being at home with anthoine.”

you let him pull you close, resting your forehead just under his collarbone. you couldn’t help but feel guilty, “it’s not like that, i promise. i’ve just never been away from him for this long.”

pierre squeezed you into a soft hug, “i know, ange. we’ll be fine, though. really.”

you felt small hands wrap around your leg, and a small voice called out from beneath you two, “maman! tenez-moi!” hold me!

you opened your eyes to see your mini blue-eyed devil staring up at you, hands tugging on your pants. you felt all your worries melt away, a smile replacing your earlier frown as you pulled away from pierre to pick him up.

“you’re getting to be quite the big boy, twannie, i don’t know if i can hold you anymore.” you teased the four year old in your arms. the younger boy looked rather confused, looking over at his father for some help.

“ta maman se fait vieille,” pierre couldn’t help but laugh when not one, but two hands swatted his chest, one significantly smaller than the other. your mommy is getting old.

anthoine wrapped his arms around your neck, a pout on his lips, “maman est petite! vous êtes vieux!” mommy is small! you are old!

you giggled at his words, and the shocked look on pierre’s face, planting a kiss on your son’s head, “merci, mon grand. et c'est jeune, pas petit.” thank you, big man. and it’s young, not small.

the boy in your arms basked in your affection, “maman est jeune!” mommy is young!

pierre tsked, hands reaching out to take his son out of your arms, “look at what you’ve done, y/n.”

“tu as passé trop de temps avec maman,” he frowned at anthoine, who giggled and tried to unfurrow his father’s eyebrows. you've been spending too much time with mommy.

“papa n'est pas vieux,” daddy is not old, pierre turned to you with a pout, “what are you telling him? i’m only a few months older than you!”

anthoine grabbed his father’s cheeks, turning pierre towards him, “papa! je ne comprends pas.” i don’t understand.

before anthoine was born, pierre and yourself had decided that you would raise him up to be fluent in french, before integrating english into his day-to-day life when he began school. pierre had been the one to bring up the idea, and after four years of pierre blurting out the most inappropriate sentences in front of your unassuming son, you could easily tell why.

you smirked, “papa dit qu'il est beaucoup plus âgé que maman.” daddy said he's much older than mommy.

pierre rolled his eyes and grumbled, “i’ve had it with you. you need to leave so i can unbrainwash our child.”

anthoine’s pout intensified and you cooed. he was so much like pierre it was entirely unfair.

“twannie, papa est jaloux que tu sois le petit garçon de maman.” daddy is jealous that you're mommy's little boy.

anthoine gasped, turning around to wrap his arms around pierre’s neck, “c'est bon, papa! je t'aime aussi. je peux être le petit garçon de maman et de papa!” it’s okay, daddy! i love you, too. i can be both mommy and daddy's little boy!”

pierre’s expression was utterly soft, his eyes filled with adoration for the little boy in his arms, “te t'aime plus que tu ne le penses, mon petit coeur.” i love you more than you know, my little heart.

the beautiful moment was interrupted by the doorbell chiming.

anthoine gasped, kicking his legs as a sign to be let down, “juliette est là, papa!” juliette is here, daddy!

you followed the speedy four-year-old to the door, moving him aside to open the door. on your porch stood a pierre’s best friend, his wife, and a little girl. juliette leclerc.

said girl exclaimed loudly when she saw your son, “tony!”

“jules!”

the two met in the middle, arms wrapped around each other as greeting. your son pulled back first, intertwining his hand with juliette’s before tugging her further into the house.

“mon dieu, they’re like two peas in a pod,” charles shook his head at the two kids before giving you a smile and a hug, “nice to see you again, y/n.”

“likewise,” you returned the hug, “and don’t act like you and pierre aren’t the same.”

charlotte stepped inside the house, giving you a quick hug and greeting, “yeah, you two are just as bad, if not worse.”

“yeah, yeah. if it weren’t for us, you two wouldn’t be the best of friends either.” pierre came around, giving the couple a nice welcome, “come on in, guys.”

in the living room, the two four year olds had already pulled out all of anthoine’s blocks, building a large building.

“papa, look!” juliette had all but shrieked when she saw charles walk through the corridor, “regardez ici, c'est un podium!” look here, it’s a podium!

unlike pierre and yourself, the leclercs had decided to integrate some english into little juliette’s vocabulary, but with the amount of french-speakers in her life, she tended to only speak in french.

“wow, ça a l'air tellement vrai! est-ce que ma voiture va être sur le toit?" charles gasped to entertain both kids. wow, that looks so real! is my car going to be on the top?

anthoine shook his head, pointing at the alpha tauri car held in juliette’s hand, “non, tonton ferrari! c'est papa! il est le plus rapide de tous!” no, uncle ferrari! it’s daddy! he’s the fastest of them all!

initially, charles had been dubbed “tonton char”, until anthoine found out that his aunt was “tatie char” and felt that they both deserved to not have to share the same name. since then, charles became “tonton ferrari” and honestly, the monégasque couldn’t have been happier to be called as such.

“papa?” charles was flabbergasted, “mais, anthoine, tonton ferrari est tellement plus rapide! il conduit une ferrari!” but, anthoine, uncle ferrari is so much faster! he drives a ferrari!

“papa, tonton pierre is super fast! très rapide!” juliette took the car in her hands and pretended to drive it in the air, ultimately stopping at the top step of the podium.

charles gave pierre a dirty look, the frenchman smiling smugly, “you’ve brainwashed my daughter.”

“she’s just got good taste, charles.”

before the two adult children could start arguing, charlotte clapped her hands, “alright. so, y/n are you ready to go?”

you couldn’t stop your eyes from trailing to pierre, who nodded his head and threw a thumbs up. you took a deep breath before turning back to charlotte and gave her a curt nod, “yeah, i just need to go grab my bag and jacket from my room,” you smoothed out your outfit, “this is fine, right?”

“more than perfect. you’re the hottest mama!” she threw you a wink and you laughed when you heard pierre pipe up with a damn right, she is!

with your jacket on and bag over your shoulder, you kneeled down next to the two kids playing, calling anthoine over. on the other side, charlotte did the same with juliette.

you fixed anthoine’s shirt and hair, “maman s'en va, d’accord? je vais passer un peu de temps avec ta tatie char,” you gave him a soft smile. mommy is heading out, okay? i'm gonna go spend some time with your auntie char.

“vous partez?” his lips slipped into a pout, hands reaching out to play with the button of your jacket. you’re leaving?

“oui, mais tu seras ici avec papa, tonton ferrari et jules,” you lightly pulled his hands away and gave them a squeeze, “tu vas t'amuser comme un fou!” yes, but you will be here with daddy, uncle ferrari and jules…you will have so much fun!

“je peux vous appeler si vous me manquez?” can i call you if i miss you?

you couldn’t help the soft coo that escaped your lips, “bien sûr, tu peux m'appeler quand tu veux.” of course, you can call me whenever you want.

anthoine had always been rather attached to you, seeing as you two would spend a lot of time at home together while pierre would be out for his work. you and pierre had been working on his separation anxiety little by little, and he had gotten a lot better, but as pierre would softly smile and say, “anthoine loves his maman a lot, he wants to be with her all the time. just like papa.”

and so, with a kiss on the cheek from anthoine, and one on the lips from pierre, you were off, getting into the car with charlotte to enjoy a day out.

at home, pierre and charles gave each other a look.

“well, let’s hope this is easy.” charles sighed, heading straight to the gaslys kitchen, “did you by any chance stock up on those pudding cups that anthoine eats? they’re really good.”

“that anthoine eats?” pierre scoffed, following charles into the kitchen, “you singlehandedly finish every pack we buy. tony eats only like, one a week.”

charles stared at him expectantly and pierre sighed, “top left cupboard, next to the pantry.”

“you’re saying that this delicious, processed cup of sugar,” charles took a big bite of the pudding, “tony only eats once a week?”

pierre nodded, “sometimes, not even.”

charles gaped, and pierre groaned, “close your mouth, c'est nauséabond.” that’s nauseating.

“i’m sorry, how does anthoine exist without this?”

“same way juliette does,” pierre sat down next to charles.

“but that’s only because charlotte doesn’t let me buy anything for jules,” charles waved his empty spoon in the air, “something about organic and healthy food; no processed sugars, that sort of stuff.”

“who do you think told y/n about that stuff?” pierre smirked, “but y/n is less hard on the healthy eating than charlotte is. she says that we weren’t held on that strict of diets and we turned out fine.”

charles laughed, “her? sure. but you? you are anything but fine.”

pierre smacked charles’ head, “don’t forget that both jules and tony think i’m faster than you. i wonder why?”

charles’ face instantly dropped, “it’s all because of that day we left her over at yours. i can’t believe you would teach a kid lies like that.”

“oh, shut up,” pierre rolled his eyes, “it’s not a lie, i am better than you. who started in f1 first?”

it was charles’ turn to roll his eyes, “that’s because you’re old.”

“papa! maman says it’s not nice to talk about ages!” juliette walked into the kitchen with anthoine trailing behind her, tugging on her dress as if asking her to translate. she turned towards him, “mon papa a appelé ton papa vieux!” my daddy called your daddy old!

it was as if a lightbulb went on his head, “papa est vieux!” anthoine continued, “même maman le dit.” daddy is old!...even mommy said so.

charles laughed loudy, and the younger leclerc looking visibly confused. her mother had never prepared her for such a situation. next to the older leclerc, pierre visibly slumped, head coming down to rest against the cool counter.

“ta maman est très intelligente,” charles leaned over to ruffle the young gasly’s hair. your mommy is very smart.

anthoine smiled widely before turning to his dad, “papa, jules et moi avons faim.” jules and i are hungry.

juliette nodded hurriedly, “si affamés que nous pourrions mourir!” so hungry we could die!

charles pulled juliette up into his lap while pierre got out of his seat and placed anthoine on it instead, “nous ne voudrions pas ça maintenant, n'est-ce pas?” we wouldn't want that now, would we?

both kids shook their heads, giggling behind their tiny hands.

pierre searched through the kitchen, unsure what to feed the kids, “qu'est-ce que vous voulez manger?” what would you guys like to eat?

anthoine bounced in his seat, “spaghetti!”

“yeah! yummy spaghetti,” she turned to her father, “on peut avoir celui que tatie y/n a fait?” can we have the one auntie y/n made?

charles looked at pierre who pulled his phone out, “well, can we?”

pierre held up a finger, holding his phone up to his ear, “hey! hi, amour…no, no! everything is fine…well, you see the kids are hungry an-...no, i didn’t…but jules said she wants the spaghetti you make…then what do i do now?”

charles watched pierre in amusement, his everchanging facial expressions making him chuckle lightly.

“alright,” pierre put his phone back into his pocket, “je viens de parler à la maman de tony et elle a dit spaghetti pour le dîner, pas pour le déjeuner.” i just talked to tony's mama and she said spaghetti for dinner, not for lunch.

both kids slumped down in their seats and pierre opened the fridge, “alors, à la place, pourquoi pas des sandwiches?” so, instead, how about we have sandwiches?

“okay, can we play until you are done making the sandwiches?” jules asked, already moving to get off her father’s lap.

charles laughed, “okay, but come when we call you okay?”

anthoine copied his friend’s movements, nodding–though he didn’t understand a thing–before running off with the leclerc girl.

“he did not have a single clue what i just said,” charles threw away his pudding cup.

pierre nodded, “nope, but jules will probably explain it to him.”

“do you not forget that he can’t speak english sometimes?” charles grabbed two pieces of bread to make juliette’s sandwich.

“mm, occasionally,” pierre smiled, “but tony always has the cutest face and then goes ‘papa, je ne peux pas vous comprendre!’ and it’s the cutest thing ever. i hate to say it, but sometimes we do it on purpose because his pout is just so adorable.”

charles hummed, “anthoine’s gonna be the biggest heartthrob when he grows up.”

“i mean, he’s already got jules wrapped around his finger,” pierre elbowed charles.

“absolutely not.” charles stopped assembling the sandwich, “if anything, jules has him wrapped around her finger.”

“as if!”

the argument continued on for the rest of the sandwich making process…and the clean up process. by the time the ingredients had been put back, charles and pierre had just barely ceased their banter.

“anthoine! juliette! les sandwichs sont prêts!” the sandwiches are ready!

charles’ helped both kids with washing their hands. while pierre helped them get seated and put their sandwiches in front of them.

the two fathers sat down across from their kids, snacking on their own sandwiches while participating in the discourse between their children.

not long after, the kids had migrated to playing outside in the backyard. their plates had long since been abandoned, bread crusts and crumbs littering the colourful plastic. pierre had tried so hard to convince the two to eat the crusts but lost the battle.

the frenchman, alongside the monégasque, moved to the outside as well, monitoring their children as they went up and down the slide, and played with their cars. conversation flowed smoothly between the two, bouncing from one topic to the next.

after a few bathroom breaks and trips to the kitchen for some water, the youngest pair of best friends retired to anthoine’s room, bored of the sun and playground outside.

“they’re so energetic when they’re together.” pierre groaned, head tossed back in exhaustion.

“they’re four,” charles retorted, nearly in the same position as the frenchman, “i can’t help but feel bad for our mums. we were probably just as bad.”

“yeah, but we weren’t four. we were at least seven and higher,” pierre yawned.

“you were seven. i was six. you’re old,” charles laughed when pierre’s hand blindly tried to hit his arm.

“i’m sick of you and y/n calling me old. you’ve got my son doing it, too. what has the world come to?”

charles’ laughs grew louder as pierre complained, never not basking in his friend’s misery, “you’ll live…”

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” pierre huffed, “do not make another old joke. i will literally kick you out.”

before charles could get a word out, juliette came running back out, anthoine hot on her tail.

“papa! papa!” she grabbed her father’s arm and shook it hard.

charles winced, pulling his arm away from her hands and instead grasping her hands in his, “on ne secoue pas les gens comme ça, juli.” you don't shake people like that, juli.

she stopped, a pout on her face, “okay, but papa, guess what! devinez quoi!”

charles hummed, “je ne sais pas. pourquoi tu ne me le dis pas?” i don’t know. why don’t you tell me?

the girl shook her head, “no, vous devez deviner,” she turned to pierre, “tonton pierre! vouz devinez!” you have to guess…uncle pierre! you guess!

the frenchman made a show of thinking by rubbing his chin, “hmm, tu as mangé tout ton pain?” you ate all your bread?

anthoine giggled, “non! papa, c'était si mal!” that was so wrong!

pierre abruptly rose, grabbing anthoine and hoisting him into the air, shrieks of laughter erupting from him, “une mauvaise estimation? comment osez-vous!” a bad guess? how dare you!

juliette looked at charles expectantly. charles scratched his chin, stumped, “vous avez cassé quelque chose?” did you guys break something?

juliette stomped her small foot, “no! you guys are so bad at guessing.”

she moved towards anthoine, who had just been placed back on the ground, and pulled him in front of her dad, “anthoine a dit que nous aurons un mariage!” anthoine said we will have a wedding!

charles choked on his spit, and pierre’s eyebrows raised at his son.

anthoine nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “je vais épouser jules! tout comme toi et maman, et tonton et tatie!” i’m going to marry jules! just like you and mommy, and uncle and auntie.

“absolutely not,” charles reached over and pushed pierre’s shoulder, “pierre, get your heartbreaker of a son away from my daughter.”

“but papa!” jules frowned, having heard the refusal, “je l'aime et nous allons avoir beaucoup de bébés!” i love him and we’re going to have a lot of babies!

“merde,” charles felt like his heart was going to explode.

on his left, pierre’s face was turning red from how hard he was holding back laughter. he did not want either kid to think he was laughing at them.

charles chuckled awkwardly, “vous n'êtes pas un peu trop jeunes pour discuter de ça?” aren't you two a bit too young to be discussing this?

“l'amour, c'est l'amour!” anthoine pumped a fist up in the air, “c'est ce que dit maman.” love is love!...that’s what mommy says.

pierre couldn’t help it, the laughter bubbled out of his chest. charles sat next to him, slack-jawed, unable to believe that the gasly boy had proposed to his daughter so soon. he hadn’t even had the chance to tell her no dating until she was thirty.

with the way charles sat there unmoving, pierre decided to do some damage control, chuckles still escaping his lips, “et si on attendait que vos mamans soient rentrées et qu'on puisse en parler?” how about we wait until your moms are home and we can talk about this then?

both children nodded, running back into the house hand-in-hand.

charles placed his head in his hands, and pierre slapped his back, “mon ami, i think we’re going to share the same grandchildren in the future.”

“pierre, je vais devoir vous demander d'arrêter de parler.” i'm going to need you to stop speaking.

2K notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Note

Interaction with the Hunt family: "Um, I have a question. Are you guys aliens who are planning world domination and if yes, is Rook your leader?"

(no, idk why i wrote this prompt either.)

[If you want to see a silly theory on the Hunt siblings and some doodles of them, check out this post!]

I still stand by my opinion that the Hunt family is a bunch of international spies and/or assassins or something wild like that 😂

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

Uncanny.

That was the only way you could describe the Hunts.

Rook and his five siblings—brothers and sisters—squished up against one another on one of Pomefiore’s lounge sofas. Seated so close like this, the similarities between their faces were even more pronounced.

Between them and the parents, they all boasted the same sharp eyes, the same flaxen locks, and the same deceptively willowy physiques. It was as though Rook had been refracted in seven different sizes and styles of dress. One Rook for each dorm, Ramshackle included.

Mrs. Hunt chuckled at your question, her eyes immediately sliding over to her husband. She said something in a tongue unknown to you. It earned tittering from her children, and a mysterious smile from Rook.

He caught your curious stare and held it. "Maman lauds your unique sense of humor, Trickster!"

You wondered if she had actually said, "They're onto us." Everything personal seemed to be half truths and avoidance with Rook—and even those that shared his blood.

“Mother speaks many languages,” one of the Hunt siblings offered. Which one it was, you couldn’t tell. “We all do.”

“Right. As part of your intergalactic plan to conquer Twisted Wonderland.”

Mr. Hunt grinned broadly, as if containing a laugh himself. “Us, aliens bent on world domination? No, nothing of the sort. We’re a perfectly normal family, I assure you.”

It was a familiar deflection, you realized, straight from Trey’s book. “I’m just an ordinary high school boy.”

"I don't know if I entirely believe you, sir," you said slowly. “I don’t know if I believe any of you.”

Mr. Hunt’s forest green eyes twinkled with amusement. “Then we should confess to our treason now. Perhaps law enforcement will be so merciful as to grant us lighter sentences for turning ourselves in.”

The Hunts all bursted out into peals of laughter. They clung onto one another for support, hooting and hollering as they doubled over on the sofa.

“Papa thinks himself a comedian!”

Was that really a joke though? You squinted hard at the group. “… Excuse me, but let me be more direct. What exactly do you guys do for a living? I heard you have villas with warp pads in many countries, and that’s super sus—”

"Such interesting school friends you have, Rook,” Mrs. Hunt mused.

“Yes, very interesting indeed,” her husband agreed.

“Very interesting! So very interesting,” the Hunt siblings chorused.

“Ooh la la~ It seems you’ve captured the attention of the entire famille,” Rook chirped, leaning forward in his seat. “Fufufu. I’m certain they’d love to hear more about your curious mind and the imaginative impossibilities it crafts.”

#Rook Hunt #twst #twisted wonderland #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #Reader #self insert #NRC Family Day #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios

220 notes · View notes

valentine1994 · 2 months

Text

Dispute avec mon copain hier, qui a finie par moi faisant mon sac et claquant la porte à 1h du matin. Deux jours avant qu'on soit sensés signer un contrat pour un appartement ensemble. Ça m'a pris 2 minutes, je pouvais pas faire autrement. J'avais dit "J'ai envie de rentrer chez moi", à quoi il avait répondu "Fais-le alors, mais saches que je t'arrêterai pas et que j'appèlerai pas." Alors j'ai bondis hors du lit - il faut protéger sa fierté... Le seul truc qui aurait pu m'arrêter c'est le fait que j'avais déjà pris ma dose de mélatonine. Bref, je me retrouve à sangloter sur la route, avec mon petit sac sur le dos. Je voyais des couples qui sortaient de leurs Ubers et rentraient chez eux main dans la main, tous beaux. Moi je faisais peur, je le sais parce que j'ai vu mon reflet dans le miroir de l'ascenseur. J'étais plus en colère contre moi-même que contre lui. C'est ça le plus douloureux dans l'histoire. Des disputes on en a eues, mais cette fois-ci le coupable est à l'intérieur de moi, c'est mon anxiété sociale et la façon dont elle me paralyse, me gâche la vie. C'est elle qui est responsable du petit drame d'hier.

Ça a commencé par une soirée Monopoly avec ses soeurs. Ça rend la dispute presque drôle. À chaque fois que je rencontre sa famille je suis paralysée par l'angoisse, et le fait de parler suédois avec eux arrange pas les choses. Les mots sortent pas, je suis silencieuse et m'en veux d'être silencieuse. Je me force à parler et tout ce que je dis est maladroit, les larmes me montent aux yeux, je veux rentrer chez moi, respirer à nouveau. Bref, hier ça avait malgré tout bien commencé, même si j'étais fatiguée après une journée de boulot. Ça a mal tourné quand elles ont mis de la techno, monté le son et se sont mises à danser autour du Monopoly. Là mon corps tout entier s'est paralysé et j'ai fixé le plateau de jeu pendant ce qui m'a semblé être une éternité. Dans la voiture sur la route du retour mon copain m'a à peine adressé la parole et la paranoia a commencé à faire son petit bonhomme de chemin dans ma tête. Je pouvais rien dire parce que sa soeur était dans la voiture avec nous. Mais je savais qu'il trouvait que j'avais été désagréable avec ses soeurs. C'est super important pour lui que ça se passe bien avec ses amis et sa famille, que je sois intégrée.

"L'intégration", le concept autour duquel ma vie tourne depuis que je suis arrivée en Suède. J'ai essayé de m'intégrer dans ma coloc, au boulot, à l'université, avec sa famille et ses amis. J'essaie de parfaire mon suédois à côté des études et du boulot, je m'adapte, je regarde personne au supermarché et je dis pas "bonne journée au revoir" à la caisse du supermarché. Je dis juste "merci" comme tout le monde et je me casse. Je coupe plus la parole, j'attends mon tour pour parler et quand je le fais je regarde tout le monde dans le groupe. J'ai des opinions modérées. Je me place à un mètre de distance des autres quand je fais la queue et je marche jamais sur les pistes cyclables. J'ai perdu mes couleurs, et pour régler ça je suis une thérapie cognitivo-comportementale dans un CMP suédois. Je paie 200€ par mois pour faire du yoga avec des jeunes mamans qui travaillent dans le domaine de la culture et adorent la France, c'est à dire Aix-en-Provence et Paris. Mais hier j'ai fais l'erreur d'être silencieuse à la table du Monopoly, et maintenant mon copain est inquiet, il se demande si je réussirai un jour à m'intégrer.

Hier il m'a demandé de prendre mes responsabilités. Je sais pas si c'est le fait d'avoir fait l'armée, d'être capricorne ou tout simplement suédois qui le fait dire ça. Peut-être un mélange des trois. Selon lui, il faut avoir besoin de personne dans la vie. Il vis pourtant à 10 minutes de chez ses parents et a un papa qui est allé le chercher chez le médecin la semaine dernière, avant de lui faire des courses. Tous ses amis sont des amis d'enfance sur qui il pourra compter toute sa vie. Ce que je veux dire c'est qu'il a un filet de sécurité immense en dessous de lui. Et maintenant je vais comparer sa situation avec la mienne, je sais que je devrais pas comparer mais je vais le faire. Je suis partie à l'étranger toute seule et ai réussi à m'en sortir toute seule et la semaine dernière je devais noter le numéro de téléphone d'une personne de confiance quelque part, et j'avais que lui. Hier quand je faisais ma petite crise d'angoisse silencieuse devant le Monopoly j'attendais juste une main sur mon épaule, parce que je sais qu'il a vu. Mais j'ai eu que du silence en retour, et dans le lit il était presque collé contre le mur pour être trèèèès loin de moi. Il est presque midi et je sais qu'il appèlera pas aujourd'hui, et demain on doit signer le contrat. Ou plutôt, il doit signer le contrat parce qu'ici c'est pas mon pays.

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frasers-of-my-heart · 3 months

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Wednesday 100: Notre Fils

Fergus walked into the parlor, quiet and slow (unusual for their gregarious lad) and Claire noted his eyes looked heavy. She stood and went to him, laying her wrist on his forehead, finding it clammy and far too warm. “Fergus, get yourself back to bed.”

“Non, Milady,” Fergus softly protested, “I am to accompany Milord today.”

Jamie came up behind him. “Not today, lad. Listen to yer mistress.”

“I suppose I am a bit tired…” he lilted and Jamie scooped him up. “Merci, Papa. Maman, will you check on me?”

They were his.

“Of course, darling, I’ll be up soon.”

#outlander #jamie x claire #my fic #wednesday100 #fergus fraser #fraser family feels

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loohs-world · 1 year

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Fabio Quartararo x reader

fabioquartararo ✓

Liked by pierregasly and others 96.343 people

fabioquartararo ma chère fille papa t'aime❤️

user Fabio being a father is everything to me

t0m06600 ✓ Princess Quartararo🤍

yourusername rends ma fille lol🫶🏼💖

fabioquartararo ✨ne pas ✨

user 😍

user 😍😍

motogp ✓ Papa Fabio 😍

yamahamotogp ✓ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

user 🫶🏼

yourusername

Liked by fabioquartararo and others 13.541 people

yourusername Silence Alba dort ❤️🥰

fabioquartararo ✓ mon petit oiseau ❤️

user pourquoi as-tu disparu des réseaux sociaux maman ?

yourusername m'occuper de deux enfants ne me donne pas "assez" de temps

user deux enfants

yourusername Fabio et Alba😂

fabioquartararo CHÉRI??😐🤨

yourusername

liked by charlesleclerc and others 10.202 people

yourusername Mon homme❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

fabioquartararo ✓ merci pour tout ma belle ❤️

charlesleclerc ✓ ❤️

marcmarquez ✓ ❤️❤️❤️😍

user si belle😍

userbr mamãe e papai são quentes❤️‍🔥😍

user 😍💖

fabioquartararo ✓

Liked by motogp and others 30.123 people

fabioquartararo Si en tant qu'épouse tu as toujours été fantastique, en tant que mère tu as prouvé que tu avais une force inépuisable pour prendre soin de notre fille et que tu réussis quand même à avoir une patience sans fin pour me supporter. Il ne fait aucun doute que j'ai trouvé le bon compagnon avec qui partager la vie et qui, au fil des ans, m'a procuré de nombreuses joies. @yousername ❤️

yourusername Je t'aime mon amour d'ici à la lune mon prince charmant ❤️🥹

*Comments on this post have been limited*

#motogp imagine #imagines #x reader #instagram au #x you fluff #fabio quartararo #fabio quartararo x reader #motogp imagines #motogp x reader

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vividwritinglove · 2 years

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next door XII - a Pierre Gasly series

thanks to every new follower and the comments I receive for this series ❤️ means a lot to me!

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pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader

warnings: fluff + smut (again) at the end 🔥

word count: 3K

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Pierre's family was anything but thrilled that he would not be spending New Years Eve with them as planned. Especially his father seemed to be a little disappointed in him. Everyone's mood was a bit dejected and Pierre felt very guilty because of it. He retreated to his room to change for dinner and the following midnight mass in church.

He heard a soft knock at his door.

"Come in!" he said without hesitation as he was putting on the golden cufflinks with his initials on, that his father had given him for Christmas last year.

"Pierre?" his mother asked timidly, slowly entering his old room. She had to grin at the sight of him sitting on his by now too-small bed, it had been a long time seeing him in his childhood bedroom.

Pierre looked up from his wrists and couldn't quite interpret the look on his mother's face, "Maman, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin anyone's holidays..."

"No, no, no, Pierre." she said immediately and rushed towards him to sit on the bed next to him, "No one is mad or angry with you.".

She immediately calmed him down and put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him, "We're just a little confused. It's pretty spontaneous after all.".

"I know." sighed Pierre, scratching the back of his head, "But it feels different this time."

"What makes her so different?" his mother asked, genuinely interested, smiling at him encouragingly.

And then he talked about you: how you wrapped him around your little finger at first sight, how incredibly well you can talk to each other and you two were directly on the same page, that you and him share the same sad fate and he finally feels that he has someone at his side who can also handle and support him emotionally. That you are the smartest person he ever met, which has great taste, not only in interior but also in fashion and on top of that, you are an excellent cook.

Pierre's mom watched her youngest son very closely as he euphorically talked about you, gesticulating animatedly as well. It seemed really different this time and she was genuinely happy for Pierre. He lived so far away from her and she wished nothing more for her child to live a happy and content life and have someone by his side that will be there for him no matter what and love him unconditionally.

"She sounds like a fabulous women." concluded Pierre's mother as he finished his praise of you. Pierre nods in agreement, smiled at her gratefully and hugged her, "You're going to love her."

"Well, just bring her along next time!" she suggested, continuing smiling and stroking his cheek affectionately, „And don’t worry about Papa! He’s going to be fine.“.

"Merci, Maman."

Pierre spent 2 wonderful days with his big family and lots of good food. He really enjoyed the time together with his parents and brothers. For the new year he wanted to spend much more time with them and wants to bring you to every single family event, so they can experience how amazing you are.

~ ~ ~

The last 2 days you were completely under pressure. You rummaged through your moving boxes for your summer clothes, which you had not yet unpacked, because it was simply not necessary since it is winter. You also didn't want to pack too much, so that Pierre would probably declare you crazy. After 3 hours you were satisfied with your selection of clothes and brought everything into your bedroom, to start packing your suitcase. The rest of the time until the departure you looked for travel information about Tulum and watched "drive to survive" on Netflix. You make it to season 2 and especially Pierre's story gripped you a lot. From sadness to anger, pretty much every emotion was represented in you during the episodes. Pierre already told you that the show portrayed some storylines a little too exaggerated, but after all it was still true.

Pierre kept sending you photos of himself and his wonderful family. He celebrated a chaotic but harmonious Christmas with them. Just as he had wished and imagined. You are very happy for him and can hardly wait to see him again.

Finally the time had come - you were already sitting in the shuttle to Milan airport that Pierre had organized for you. He got you a VIP treatment, which was a little too much for you. Pierre wanted to spoil you and therefore the best was almost not good enough.

You quickly arrived at the airport and checked in. You were escorted to the First Class Lounge, so that you can wait undisturbed for boarding to the flight to Paris. It was easier to fly via Paris because there was a direct flight to Cancun from there. Pierre had really thought of everything and so far it has been going like clockwork.

Almost 2 hours later you landed in Paris and were again brought to the next First Class lounge, where Pierre was already waiting for you. As soon as you saw him you rushed towards him and hugged him tightly like you hadn't seen him in weeks. Pierre was very happy about your reaction. Now he was sure that you felt safe around him. It was the best confirmation he could have received. He wrapped his arms tightly around you and lifted you a little, his face in your open and soft hair. Finally he had your scent in his nose. He had wished for nothing more than to be close to you again.

"Hey you!" you said grinning and kissing him lovingly.

"You? Last time you called me babe..." laughed Pierre, after he pulled away from your lips.

You rolled your eyes at him, but then joined in his laughter, "I was hoping you forgot."

"Never!" still laughing, Pierre kissed you demanding afterwards.

Pierre and you sat down at the big window front and watched the planes taking off and landing.

"Are you excited?" asked Pierre, he had been watching you the whole time and noticed the nervous bobbing of your leg.

"More than excited." you said with a smile and looked at him gratefully. You put your arms around him again and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, "Thanks, babe."

Pierre had to grin at the nickname and puts his arm around your shoulder to pull you even closer to him.

A few minutes later you were sitting in your seats in the plane, getting comfortable for a nearly 11 hour flight. You couldn't wait to be in the sun, it had just been way too long for you to take a private trip and most of all you were looking forward to spend time with Pierre and what he had in store for you.

The first hours of the flight passed by quickly. You buried yourself in an eBook on your iPad and Pierre took a nap. After a while, you looked at your phone and checked your social media accounts, especially Instagram.

You didn't care about the amount of likes or follower. For you, social media was just a communication channel to be connected with friends and acquaintances around the world and share some nice pictures with them. Pierre's follower count was utopian for you, never would you want that much attention. The pressure behind it, to constantly post and give your fans what they expect from you, was unimaginable to you.

Since Pierre followed you, you've had hundreds of requests from people you didn't know. Among them mainly fan pages and many younger women, probably also fans of Pierre. It triggered an uneasiness in you. Your privacy is incredibly important to you, so you left the requests unanswered.

On the contrary: you went into your settings and restricted your profile even more, only friends were able to message you now. Likewise, you sorted out your already low follower count. Only people you really knew were among them now.

"What are you doing?" Pierre asked curiously. He had been watching you for the last few minutes, meticulously cleaning up your Instagram profile and making it inaccessible to any strangers.

"Just taking precautions." you said casually, going through your previous posts to weed them out as well.

Pierre was completely different in that regard. He could handle the media hype and got a lot of training because of his job.

"Are you ashamed of me?" he asked teasingly.

Your head snapped up at him, "Of course not. The internet can be a scary place sometimes...".

Pierre nods at you in agreement, "So I'd better not post anything about you and our vacation?".

You think about it long. You had nothing to hide, but serving up your life on a silver platter to everyone was just not your style.

"By season's start, everyone will be wondering who this beautiful, gorgeous and above all extremely hot woman at my side is." Pierre said confidently, kissing your temple with each compliment.

"Such a charmer!" you grinned.

"It should actually be my middle name!" he joined in your laughter, "But seriously! I want you to come with me!".

"We should talk about this again at a later point." you offered him diplomatically. Pierre was not satisfied with your answer, he had hoped that you would be happy to travel around the world with him and support him live on site at the race weekends.

"Pierre, this is all new to me. I've never dated anyone in the public eye before!" you explained to him as you noticed his crestfallen expression, "I want this with us, I want you! But just give me a little time to get used to it, okay?".

Pierre nods and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. You're really different from his ex-girlfriends and maybe that's the key to a long and working relationship.

For the rest of the flight you watched series on Netflix, your favorite shared series is Peaky Blinders. The flight was very pleasant, but you two were still exhausted and desperate for a comfy bed. Fortunately, you didn't have to wait long for your suitcases and the transport to the resort was already ready for you. A driver was waiting in the entrance hall of Cancun airport with a sign of his and your initials, so no one would guess it was Pierre at first glance.

The transfer to the resort in Tulum took another hour, so you finally arrived around early afternoon. Pierre quickly checked in and with a golf cart you were driven to your beach bungalow. You couldn't get out of your amazement. It was pure nature around you and you were relatively far away from all the other guests, so you got the feeling to be completely alone here with Pierre.

Pierre chatted briefly with the page boy and tipped him as you stood on the outdoor terrace of the bungalow, admiring the view. Besides a large daybed, there was a private pool with a Jacuzzi. Only a few stairs lead directly to a private beach area.

You closed your eyes and greedily soaked up the warmth of the sun rays. That's exactly what you needed after all the stress of moving and the new job and also because of the winter in Milan. An energy boost spread through your body, that made you smile and a few tears of joy ran down your cheeks.

Pierre watched you as you walked to the wooden balustrade and seemed to soak up the surroundings. He walked up to you and hugged you from behind. He pulled your cotton blouse over your shoulder and kissed the exposed skin tenderly. With pleasure you rested your head against his and snuffled a little.

Abruptly Pierre stopped kissing your shoulder, turned you towards him and cupped your face with his hands.

"Mon cœur, what's wrong?" he asked softly, looking at you with concern. His thumbs wiped over your tears of joy. You smiled slightly and put your hands around his wrists, "Nothing. I'm just happy.".

Relief spread through Pierre, for a second he thought he had brought you too quickly into something you didn't want.

"It's so incredibly beautiful here. I want to enjoy every second with you." you said in a soft voice and Pierre pressed a passionate kiss on your lips.

"I hate to say this, but I need to check out the gym here..." murmured Pierre as he reluctantly breaks away from you, "Pyry has already sent me tons of exercise videos and workout plans."

"I get it. March isn't that long away."

"You know when the season starts?" asked Pierre, puzzled but also impressed.

You nodded confidently, "Even that the winter testing will be in Bahrain."

Gobsmacked, Pierre looked at you and had to kiss you again, "Wow. You really don't do things by halves."

"I keep my word."

"Will you be okay without me?" asked Pierre with a grin, although he already knew the answer.

You looked around demonstratively and your gaze lingered especially on the daybed, "I think I'll be fine."

You winked at him and now you pressed a kiss on his lips, "And now go. I don't want to be the cause of Pyry's anger."

Pierre laughed and jogged back to the bungalow to put on his sports clothes. You, on the other hand, enjoyed the sun for a little while and then decided to put on the white bikini Pierre gave you and get a tan on the daybed.

"Unfair!" groaned Pierre as he saw you in the bikini. He would’ve loved to grab you and spoil you with his tongue on the big and comfy bed. You left him without a comment, grabbed your iPad and sun hat and strutted towards the daybed.

You enjoyed lying in the Mexican sun and reading a good book. After almost 2 hours, it was too warm for you and you needed to cool down. Since you and Pierre wanted to have dinner relatively early, you decided against the pool and went for the large rain shower in the bathroom, which was partly an outdoor shower. Pierre really hadn't promised too little, it was paradise and you just couldn't believe that you were here with him.

You quickly get rid of your bikini and examine your newly gained tan lines. It amazed you, how quickly you got a tan. A little recovered, you jumped into the shower and let the cold water run over your heated skin. You were just in the shower as Pierre entered the bungalow. A good workout was behind him and he was extremely satisfied with the gym equipment.

He went straight to the terrace to greet you, but found the daybed and pool empty. He was about to go down to the beach when he heard the water running in the bathroom. The bathroom door was ajar and he pushed it open lightly. His eyes were immediately on you. You stood sideways to him and he watched as your hands ran over your beautiful naked body. Within a few seconds, Pierre was hard and licked his lips excitedly. He also had noticed your tan lines immediately. He couldn't help himself but needed to go in the shower as well. On the way to you he undressed himself and carelessly dropped his clothes on the floor.

"Mind if we save some water and shower together?" he asked cheekily as he stepped up behind you. Immediately you felt his hands on your hips and his hard cock against your butt. You had to grin, sex in the shower was just what you needed. You turned to face him and ran your hands over his chest and cross necklace.

"I was already wondering where you’ve been..." you muttered against his lips and kissed him along his jawline and down his neck. Pierre enjoyed your kisses and the cool water on his skin. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and groaned slightly. To you he was the most beautiful man you had ever met.

You continued your kisses and now lingered with your lips on his collarbone. You lowered your hand and grabbed the base of his cock. Pierre now moaned louder and had to look at you.

You slowly began to jerk him off and moved your kisses back up to his mouth.

"You're driving me crazy.." Pierre sighed into your mouth before kissing you passionately and entering your mouth with his tongue. He wanted to feel you and also slipped a hand between your legs and massaged your clit directly with a finger in circular movements. You gasped loudly into the next kiss and increased the pace of your hand.

"Putain! I have to fuck you right now.” Pierre growled and already wanted to leave the shower to get a condom. You hold him back by his hand, which was still between your legs.

"I have an IUD." you almost sobbed. You couldn't wait a second longer. Pierre thought about it for a brief moment, he trusted you and turned you around. He gave you a light slap on your butt, because you were so impatient for his cock and pushed you against the cold glass wall. As your nipples touched the cool and wet glass, you whined and spread your legs further for him.

Pierre ran his cock through your wet and glistening folds a few times before he entered you fully. You both moaned in sync. You had to smile at the familiar and awesome feeling of being filled by him. It was even more intense this time for Pierre as he fucked you raw. He began to move quickly and thus found your G-spot relatively quickly.

"Pierre, I.. I.. am about to cum." you whimpered.

His hands moved forward from your hips over your stomach. One went up and wrapped itself slightly around your neck, gently but firmly pushing you back into him. The other went between your legs again and stimulated your clit once more. You couldn't believe how fast he was able to make you cum.

"I want to hear you." Pierre whispered in your ear and shortly afterwards an intense orgasm overcame you. Your muscles tensed up and you only got tighter for Pierre. The thought of filling you up with his seed was too much for him and shortly after you he came hard and violently as well.

———

taglist: @hungryhungarian @scotlynaurora @justthatgirlxox @hannahholland1811 @dr3lover @pleasantducktimetravel @iamasimpingh0e @thatonesexycancerian @ophcelia @hello-sunshine-x @savannah-elliott

#pierre gasly #pg10 #f1 things #pierre gasly x reader #f1 smut #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly imagine

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seas-storyarchive · 1 month

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crossover request.

Alastor is the adoptive father of Moxxies Mother Eloise and made a soul deal with her when she moved away. Years later he meets Moxxie thinking he’s Crimson.

Alastor.. never really thought he'd be a father. He did regret not leaving his mother any grandchildren after he died, but.. courting a woman hadn't even been on his mind at the time - a creole man making it on to radio, including his extracurriculars.. not a moment to spare.

But here, in hell, he had all the time. As well as a new little one to spend it on. A little baby imp he'd plucked up after an extermination, who's parents had been killed. Little lady had plenty of moxie, fussing against him at first when he'd plucked her up. Only to relax into his arms after a moment.

"My, my.. what a strong little lady you are." Alastor said, now at home and giving the baby a bottle. "Quite the spirit." As he watched her drink, he smiled. "I think I'll call you Eloise. Yes, a fine name for a wonderful little lady."

Okay, so maybe - just maybe - impulsively adopting a baby girl was a bad idea. But.. consider.. Alastor actually had an itch to scratch with his feelings of not having children before death.

He made sure Eloise had everything she needed to succeed in life, teaching her to be a proper lady, and even teaching her some of her grandmother's recipes- not pass them, the memories of his mother, along to his child?? Alastor would rather die again, thanks.

Teaching her to dance, how to speak French, that Jazz was superior music and radio was the best medium to express oneself. It was perfect. And she taught him things too. Patience, happiness, love, every little lesson a parent needed.

The day Eloise brought Crimson home? Alastor nearly waged war upon the demon imp. Nearly. He knew what a sleazeball was, how they acted, and tried to discreetly warn his daughter. But.. Eloise was as stubborn as him, curses. And, one day..

"I'm going to marry him, and move to the Wrath ring. Regardless of if you approve or not, daddy." She said to him, the day before she left actually.

Well.. "I expected this.." Alastor produced a radio and a contract. "This radio belonged to your grandmother, princesse." As Eloise took the radio in her arms, he continued. "It should still pick up my broadcasts, should you want to hear me."

"Oh daddy." Eloise looked from the radio to Alastor, a smile and tears in her eyes. She then noticed the contract, "daddy? What's that for?"

"This, princesse, will let me know how you're doing and if you should need me." Alastor said.

Eloise laughed softly. "Oh daddy, I'll be okay." She smile, signing it anyway. "But I'll sign it, just because I love you."

Alastor smiled, dropping to his knees to pull his daughter into a hug. "Oh, my petite princesse." He kissed her forehead. "I'll keep your favorite station going, always playing your favorites. Day and night."

"Merci papa." The red imp gave her father a kiss on the cheek before pulling away.

"Soyez en sécurité maintenant." Alastor said as he stood up. "Don't make me break all the rings to come find you, princesse."

"I promise I won't, daddy." Eloise said, tears running down her face as she smiled. "Smile daddy, I won't have you without one on the day I leave."

Alastor honored her wish, smiling as she turned and left the house, went off the small porch, and to Crimson's waiting car. He stood and watched them drive off, staying put for hours, before he made his way to the attic for his radio show.

Moxxie always listened to his mother, and well.. with his mother. To the old radio that belonged to his great-grandmother. To the station that was always playing.

Sometimes there would be a voice on the station, a soft one who introduced songs or told jokes that were obviously dated, dad jokes.

Moxxie, an observant tot, noticed his mother would always laugh at each one. "Maman, why are you laughing? Those jokes aren't even funny."

"Oh Moxxie, bebe, I forgot. You know this voice on the radio?" Eloise was ashamed of herself, pulling Moxxie onto her lap.

Moxxie nodded. "Yeah.."

"Well, that's your grandfather. He works in radio." Eloise said with a smile.

"Why don't we see him?" Moxxie asked, looking up at his mother.

"Well, bebe.. he and your daddy don't get along. And he doesn't live in Wrath."

"Where does he live?"

"He lives, and don't ever tell your daddy I told you, in the Pride ring."

Moxxie's eyes widened. "He's a mortal?" Even toddlers knew only Mortal Sinners existed on Pride.

Eloise nodded. "Hmm. But he's such a sweet an' loving man." Her smile softened. "I hope we can visit him, one of these days. He'll love you."

Moxxie nodded with a smile. He hoped so. His grandfather sounded nice!

The day Alastor felt the contract break - was a dark day indeed. He saw the contract break into bits, and so did his heart. He sobbed in front of the fireplace.

"I- I'm going to kill you, Crimson! Mark my words! You'll be a dead imp when I find you!"

Moxxie, now a teenager, curled on his mother's chair. He held the radio, tears in his eyes. There was no music. No voice. No static. There was silence.

"Grandpa.. I- I need to hear your voice.. please.." Moxxie sobbed, clutching the radio tighter.

Millie looked at the old radio that her husband had on the coffee table. It had been there since she had moved in, since they got married..

This thing never worked. Just sat there. It was so old. To the point the whole thing was hanging on to a former shell of its glory with duct tape and hope. Moxxie's hope. For what? He never explained. He always just told her it was and heirloom - his great-grandmother had it, his grandfather passed it to his mother, and now it was his.

She jumped when Moxxie called in from the kitchen. "Millie! The beignets are ready!" The mysteries of the radio could wait. It's beignet time!

It was Blitz's idea. To go to the Pride Ring. Where there were sinners and debauchery and.. well, it wasn't all that different from Imp City.

Oh! Moxxie had an idea!

He heard the Radio Demon was back. Maybe- just maybe.. he could get his mother's radio back to working order! Maybe he knew his grandfather! He carefully packed the radio, and a photo of his mother, into his backpack before they had to leave.

"Hey Al? Um.. who's this?" Alastor had been sitting in his chair, whilst everyone was watching a movie, looking at an old scrapbook. And Charlie had seen one of the pictures.

"This is my daughter." He admitted, smiling as he looked at the picture she had sent him of her wedding to that bastard Crimson - his half was ripped off, by Alastor when that photo arrived.

"No fuckin' way!" Angel was now paying attention.

Alastor nodded, turning the pages to the beginning before flippping the book to show them.

"My daughter, Eloise." He gave them a few seconds to look before flipping the page. "I found her after an extermination."

Charlie cooed at a photo of the little black haired imp with her hair in two puffs while she wore a pink spring dress. "She's so cute!"

"She.. she was my whole world.." Alastor said, his voice heavy, as this was too much. "I.. I'm sorry, I.." he closed the book, and pulled it back to his chest, covering his eyes with one hand as he sobbed.

Lucifer appeared on the arm of his chair, giving the man a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Antlers.. I- I didn't.. I'm sorry, for your loss."

"Alastor.." Vaggie stood up, concerned.

"She- she was taken.. b- by that fucker!" Alastor spoke through his radio, even that was affected.

"Who? Tell me whos I gotta kill fer hurtin' my buddy's familia!" Angel stood up with a 12 gauge in hand - where the hell did he.. nevermind.

"C-"

There was the slamming open of a door.

"Sir!"

"Shut it, Moxxie! You were the one who wanted to see if the Radio Demon was here!"

"Oh.. adoring fans, I see." Hold the fucking phone! The radio and book were gone, and Alastor was back to normal. Fucking psycho. "Come, chums." He instructed, and everyone else just went along with it, "let us greet these wayward.."

There were three red imps standing there. One had large horns, another had black hair and the final one had white hair.

"Hi! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" Charlie greeted the imps. "I don't know how far imps will get, as it's a first for everyone, but-"

"Whoa! Whoa, lady.. look, we don't want your shitty happy hotel shit." Said the tallest imp.

"Mister Blitz, sir!" The black haired imp scolded. "That's the princess!"

The white haired one spoke up. "Um, what my boss," he gestured to the tallest imp, "and my wife Millie," he took the hand of the black haired imp and kissed it, "mean is.. we're looking for the Radio Demon. See.." He removed his backpack and pulled out the busted radio - only to get attacked by a tendril, dropping the radio and breaking it even further, pinning him to the wall and choking him.

Alastor's eyes were black voids, with radio dials in the center, his teeth flashing as he spoke. "W̸̩̟̋h̷̼͕̆̉ÿ̵̩̣͘ ̶̹͊ḏ̷͛̓o̶̫̽ ̸͓̍̄ͅŷ̶̯̖͠o̸͔͝ṵ̴̮͂ ̶͖̀h̸̗͆a̷̮͓͛v̷̧̌é̴̻̊ ̸̞͝͠m̴̧̰͊̀y̷͔̔̒ ̵̰̲̀̆d̷͔̒͜͝a̸͓̔̂ū̴̱̆g̴̱̈́h̴͚̺̅̅t̶͉͇͗̏e̶̱̽r̴̺̙̃̄'̴͉͋̕s̴̖͌͒ ̴̬̌r̸̗͕̊͝ǎ̵͕̈ͅd̴͈̳̿i̵̯̎̀o̴̫͇̾?"

"It-" Moxxie coughed. "It was my mother's.." he gasped for air, and was ripped from the wall by the tentacle to be face to face with the demon. "M- my dad i- is Crimson.. E- Eloise w- was my mother.." he could barely breath, his vision was failing.

"Drop him!" Blitz pulled out a rifle, sticking his fingers in his mouth and whistling, at the same timd Millie pulled out hers.

"Al!" Charlie tried to calm him down. "Look at him, do you see anything of your daughter in him?"

Alastor was quiet, staring at the demon, before dropping him.

Moxxie coughed, wiping tears from his eyes as he rubbed his eyes. "M- Mom said.. said you worked in radio.. d- didn't think.. you know, sir.."

"Drink." Alastor handed the imp a glass of water, which he drank from.

"What in the world is the matter with you!?" Millie kept her gun trained on Alastor as she walked to her husband, the deer backing away to allow her space.

"You probably just want this," he snapped his fingers, and the radio repaired itself, "fixed and to go about your business-!"

A white shape that was snarling and snapping attacked Alastor. As the hellhound scratched and bit him, Alastor screeched like the seven circles of hell were ripping him apart.

"Loona! Stop!" Moxxie grabbed the gun and shot it into the ceiling. Granted, that made him dizzy from moving so fast, but he had more important things to worry about.

Loona, surprised by the noise, backed up. She kept her eyes on the Radio Demon, snarling as she moved back to her dad.

"Mox! He almost killed- whoa whoa!" Blitz dropped his gun.

"I don't blame my grandfather for that. I look like my dad, and I wish I looked more like my mom.." Moxxie said, lowering the shotgun.

"You have her spirit, kid. You got moxie, in spades, even." Alastor joked, making everyone save for Moxxie groan, sitting up. He offered him a hand. "Allow me to formally introduce myself. Alastor, pleasure to meet-"

Moxxie dropped the gun, turned around and hugged the man, who hugged him back. "You hug like her. I missed her hugs.." he sobbed. "I- I missed hearing your jokes on the radio.. e- even if you weren't in my life, I- I still-" his choked on a sob.

Alastor hugged the little imp close. "Oh, non, non.. grandpa's here. I've got you, mon petite prince."

After watching this for a few minutes - not a soul on either side of the room spoke - Moxxie and Alastor separated.

"Let's start over." Moxxie said with a smile, before clearing his throat and holding out a hand. "My name's Moxxie, pleasure to meet all of you. Truly a pleasure."

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #helluva boss x hazbin hotel #cross over #alastor is moxxies grandfather au #request

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chrisevansonly · 5 months

Text

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 (𝐫𝐮𝐞’𝐬 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜 1)

𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: it’s your little girls first time experiencing snow and charles couldn’t be more excited to share that with her and with you

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: non super fluffy!!

𝐀/𝐍: HAPPY HOLIDAY SEASON!!!! omg i’m so excited for this christmas celebratory little fanfic party time!! i love christmas and what better way to start it off than dad! charles 🥰🥰

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Lyla Marie Pascale Leclerc was quite honestly the cutest little five month, almost six month old in the whole world, and of course as her mother and father you both weren’t being biased at all.

She was a late summer baby so when the holiday season began to come around Charles couldn’t help but become more excited at the fact that his little angel would be experiencing her first snow. Not to mention her first Christmas and you’ll admit you’d been getting in the spirit and looking forward to it, but Charles, well he took it to another level

“Lyla, regarde maman mon ange…” (lyla, look at mommy my angel)

You stood in front of Lyla, your phone out as she sat in the snow, her hands hitting the ground as she squealed happily

“Are you enjoying the snow baby girl?”

Honestly her squeals could cure anyone’s sadness, especially as she looked up at her father, Charles melting as she reached up at him

“Is it cold? You ready for papa to carry you around again?”

“She noticed you weren’t busy enough, you’re back to carrying duties my love”

Charles smiled, picking her up off the ground before coming over to you so he could place a kiss to your lips, Lyla whining as you got the attention she wanted

“Oh was maman stealing papa’s kisses? I’m sorry little love” you cooed softly kissing her forehead, effectively returning the smile to her face, that only amplified as Charles pressed kisses around her face

“Maman is all left out now..”

At the sound of the slight drop in your voice, your little girl looked at you her lips forming into a pout before she reached for you, your eyes softening as you took her and kissed her cheek

“Aw je t’aime tellement mon petit amour, merci bébé” (aw i love you so much my little love, thank you baby )

Charles was more than happy to watch the two of you cuddle up together, there was nothing more he loved than spending time with his girls, and now having the winter break, he had all the time in the world to spend with you two before heading back to pre season testing in February.

While you continued walking throughout the park, Charles picked up some snow and molded it into a snowball, bringing it over and holding it out to Lyla, causing more happy squeals to come from her

“This is a snowball princess…you throw it anywhere you want, here try it”

The little girl looked at her father as she took the snowball, obvious confusion in her eyes before she threw it, the best a five month old can, landing straight on Charles’s chest, his mouth dropping in faux shock

“Well done my love!! You got papa!” you laughed, causing Lyla to follow through, her laughs only getting louder when Charles dramatically fell to ground, snow continuing to fall around him

After a few seconds of squirming you put Lyla down and let her crawl over to her dad, letting her climb onto him and hit his chest, babbling softly until he grabbed her gently and lifted her into the air, more laughter spilling around him as you joined them in the snow.

The same spot where Charles once made you fall in a snowstorm 5 years ago on this same day, the day that changed your lives forever and brought two perfect people together, and now you had a daughter to share the love with.

The same spot that love once flourished is the same spot that love still grows…even in the snow…

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