#hopefully you like them both! :D

[sysig]

Fond of you and your artworks :)

Aw, thank you! 💕

[ashasdiary]

Vitamins

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!Nanami being super domestic, encouraging you to take vitamins, and taking care of you in all ways. 

CW: pet names, going to the doctors, established relationship, smut — dirty talking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, brief edging, breeding kink if you squint, pregnancy (MDNI) WC: 4.6k A/N: I’m not religious but I need him biblically. 

“You’re not anaemic, but your iron levels were shown to be at 4, where we would like to see them at 6, so they’re low,” the doctor informs you. 

You nod in acceptance and Nanami, sat beside you, leans in as he listens intently, elbows on his knees and hands joined together. He’d been the one who recommended you get your blood tested, so of course he was here to support. 

“I’ll be prescribing you some iron tablets for that and hopefully we can see some results after a couple of months. Further, it was found that you were deficient in vitamin A, B12, and D. Your vitamin K levels looked to be normal, however,” the doctor goes on and you nod again. 

“That’s good, honey. You were concerned about bruises and wound recovery but your vitamin K is fine. Right, doctor?” Nanami gazes at you before looking back to the doctor. You blush a little at the mention of bruises, a flashback of a couple nights ago popping up in your head. 

His big hands, roaming your body, coming to rest on your hips and squeezing them tightly as he pulled you onto his cock desperately. 

The doctor’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts immediately. 

“Correct, vitamin K deficiency does increase risk of bleeding and bruising but the levels were healthy so nothing of concern there. I would recommend taking supplements for the time being for your vitamin A, B12 and D as well as your prescribed iron tablets. Overall, everything else was at healthy levels.”

You nod once again, “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll be sure to stay on top of that.”

Nanami leans back and slides his arm around your shoulders before you both stand, taking the report and prescription note and leave the doctor’s office, bidding her goodbye. 

You slip your hand into your husband’s as you walk through the hallway towards the exit. “I have something else you can stay on top of,” he whispers and bumps his hips with yours. 

“Kento!” You whisper at him and lightly smack his firm bicep. 

He lets out a chuckle at your reaction, getting so flustered so easily, “On a serious note, I’m glad that we know now how everything’s going with your vitamin intake. It’s definitely peace of mind,” he says as he guides you outside and towards the pharmacy next door. 

“It is. I wouldn’t have really thought to pursue it myself but I’m grateful you suggested it,” you interlace your fingers through his as you feel gratitude for having him in your life. He’s so caring and also such an adult. Though you laugh about his seriousness sometimes, you’re also grateful that he’s so mindful of things like vitamin intake. 

He ushers you to step inside the pharmacy first — as he always does, ever the gentleman — and you lead the way to the vitamin aisle. Stopping at one section of the many shelves, you peruse the array of vitamins before you, and Nanami is quick to pick one of each that you needed, up. “These have the highest milligrams, so they’ll be the most effective.”

“You’re right,” you nod, and you spot a little pill box, segmented for each day of the week. “Would it make me a total grandma if I got one of these?” You ask your husband, looking to him attentively.  

“Not at all. They can certainly help with keeping a routine of…” a little smirk curls at the corner of his lips, lowering his voice to a hush, “staying on top of things.”

You try not to smile but you can’t help it so you pout instead to hide it, “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?” You ask rhetorically and he laughs softly. You both grab the appropriate vitamin bottles and carry them to the counter where you also pick up your prescription iron tablets. 

When you get home, you both wash up and change into your comfy home clothes and get started on making lunch together. You sauté some onions as the base of the soup you were making while he chops up some fresh herbs for a tasty couscous salad. “Can you pass me the chilli flakes, my love?” 

He grabs the little spice container and steps over, holding it out for you. You try to take it but he holds onto it and dips his head to kiss your knuckles. It’s a small act but one that makes your heart flutter and your lips curl into a smile. 

Once lunch is had and you’re cleaning up together, he finishes washing up while you put away the leftovers, dancing to the soft music you had playing. 

“I could do with a nap right now,” you yawn, feeling full from lunch. 

He lets out a small laugh, “You definitely need to take those vitamins, darling.“

“I know, I know, doctor’s orders. I will. But I also want to have a little siesta,” you tell him while he dries off his hands, “come nap with me for like 20 minutes. You know how effective it is for our bodies to have a nap midday?”

“I’m well aware, yes,” he smiles and lets you drag him into the bedroom where you crawl into the bed and hold up the comforter. You climb in together and you burrow yourself against him, pushing your leg between his, eyes fluttering shut. 

He rubs your back gently as he settles down himself, fingers starting to trace lazy patterns across your back. “I love you so much, Ken,” you murmur, eyes still closed, “you’re so good to me. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I love you more, honey. You deserve the world, so I’m going to do my best to give it to you,” his soft voice and kind words makes your bottom lip tremble a bit. 

“You do. I want to give you the world too,” you whisper. 

“You are my world,” he affirms. 

“Ugh, stop trying to out-romance me,” you whine quietly and you both laugh softly. 

Sleep overcomes you and you have what was probably one of the top 5 best naps of your life. You wake up to find the sun setting slowly, creating a beautiful orange hue through the room. You stretch like a cat and roll over, finding Nanami sat up and reading a book about Malaysia. 

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

“Hi, Mr. Redbull,” you quip and he chuckles. You tap the book, “You want to go back again?”

“Yes, at some point, I would love that,” he nods and smiles to himself as he reminisces about your honeymoon together there, from which you’d returned 6 months ago. It was incredible there, a truly dreamy place which couldn’t be described as you’d have to see it in person to grasp the beauty. 

“We’ll definitely visit again someday,” you promise and he hums in agreement. 

“Maybe next time, we’ll have children to take there. I bet they’d love the beach,” he says casually, setting the book aside. 

You’d talked about children plenty of times — the suggestion to get blood tests being a preparation for taking that step — but it was the softness of his suggestion, of taking your hypothetical children to one of his favourite places on the planet…it warmed your heart. 

“Definitely. When we have children, we will absolutely take them to Malaysia.”

Later that evening, you find Nanami stood at  the kitchen counter, carefully putting the vitamins into your new pill box. 

You walk over and lean your elbows onto the counter as you watch him. 

Once he’s satisfied that you have one of each vitamin in each segment, he closes it up. A thought clouds your mind and you bite your lip. “Baby, I think I need some more vitamin D,” you tell him with a serious face. 

His brows furrow a little as he looks to you, “I put one vitamin D in each day, honey, that should be more than enough.”

You shake your head. “No, I definitely need more vitamin D,” you sigh exasperatedly and he watches you carefully. 

“Sweetheart, you really don’t need more than one a day,” he explains gently. You almost break character to laugh but you manage to keep a straight face. 

“But what if I want it multiple times a day?” You ask him, eyes glinting with mischief. 

He catches on at this and his face relaxes, eyes becoming hooded, pulling you closer to him. “I see. You do know the risks of taking so much vitamin D, don’t you?” 

“Of course. I’ll turn into the sun,” you muse and he lets out a laugh, lips ghosting over yours. 

“You will certainly be glowing like the sun once I put a baby in you,” he murmurs and you feel a shiver go through your body, straight to your core. 

“Ken…” you sigh softly, hands trailing up his big arms and grasping his triceps as he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. You hum against him as he crowds you against the counter, one hand planted on it and the other coming up to cup your jaw while his lips are locked with yours. 

His thumb gently caresses your cheek, letting out a soft moan against you as you press your tongue against the seam of his lips and push your hips into his. “Hm…turn around, honey.”

Oh. 

You feel your clit throb at the lowness of his voice, his direct order, and how your wetness pools at your core. You break the kiss and he immediately grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head, revealing your bare breasts. He connects your lips briefly again, not being able to help himself from cupping your breast in his hand and teasing your nipple. Reluctantly, he breaks away and guides your hips to turn you around. 

With you bent over the counter, he steps up behind you, his lips trailing over your cheek, down your jaw, and over your shoulder while his hands roam your body, thumbs hooking inside the waistband of your pants and underwear and slowly dragging them down, down, down.  

You feel the air hitting your bare ass and thighs as he pushes your clothing off, letting the bunched fabric fall down the rest of the way from your knees. 

He continues to kiss his way over your back, hands massaging your hips and up your sides to cup both your breasts. The feeling of his hot breath fanning over your skin, and his lips tenderly pressing kisses down your back makes your insides tingle with electricity. “My pretty wife,” he hums as he kisses your lower back and crouches down on the floor behind you, sliding his hands down your sides and hips, over your outer thighs and finally coming to rest on your ass.

He grasps the flesh with a grunt, the sound making you clench. You can’t help but let out soft mewls at the feeling of his large, strong hands groping your ass, his hot lips blazing a trail of fire all the way down. You push your hips back against his hands and he hums appreciatively, spreading your ass and groaning deeply at the sight of the wetness waiting for him. 

“S’this all for me, sweetheart?” He sighs, deciding not to waste another moment and plants his lips onto your lower ones. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of it, being thrown into the deep end, but this — his beautiful, skilled mouth on you — was absolutely not something you’d protest against. 

“O-Oh! Y…mmm…yes, all for you, Ken,” you mewl as you hold onto the counter, feeling his hot tongue lap at your puffy folds. He drags his tongue up and down, gathering your juices and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

He fucking loves this. Loves having his face buried against you, eating you out from behind. 

You find your hips rocking slowly on their own accord, back to meet his sinful tongue, when he sucks on your clit and pulls a lewd moan from you. “A-ah, mmh…” the sound of which makes his cock throb with need. 

The man is a multitasker, you know this. While he’s busy pushing his tongue into your entrance, making you grip the counter tighter, you hear him fumbling with opening his pants. You turn your head to look back and are met with the delicious sight of him fisting his thick cock. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, honey,” he sighs before he’s pushing his tongue into you again. Your head falls forward as the pleasure takes over your body. He’s tongue fucking you like his life depends on it, groaning against you while he’s fucking his fist at the same time. 

He buries his face against you with a low groan, squeezing his dick, darting his tongue in and out of you before he drags it up over your clit and licks a thick stripe along the cut of you. 

Your legs quake a little at how he’s tending to your body so attentively, but you manage to keep yourself steady. He slides his free hand around you, his fingers locating your clit with expert precision within milliseconds. This action turns you on even more, the arousal rushing through your body and your pussy gushing with wetness because of how well he could map your body. 

He notes the extra wetness on his tongue and he lets out a low hum of approval, slowly circling your throbbing clit with the pads of his fingers. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” He croons against you, taking his fingers away to wrap his lips on your clit and suck attentively. Your gasp and your back arches, one hand automatically going back to thread into his hair. 

“Hhhh…mmph…” you keen, your ability to form proper sentences compromised from your husband’s ministrations on your body. 

“Use your words for me, honey,” he smirks against you as he continues to devour you, lapping, sucking, fucking, and enjoying the delicious taste of you, inching you closer to the edge. 

“Ken…” you whine, “I’m— I’m gonna cum...” You tug on his hair, mussing it up, pushing your hips against him desperately. He becomes sloppier then, and you pant, feeling the mess trickling down your inner thighs. 

He fucks his tongue into you a few more times, and then suddenly the waves of pleasure wash over your body, overwhelming your senses. Your inner walls clench, wetness leaking from you, as you let out dirty moans of Kento’s name. 

He jerks himself off at the sound of you, the feeling of you cumming, but he stops before he can reach his peak. His moans reverberate through you, the vibrations of them only adding to your pleasure; you lean over the counter, catching your breath as he laps your juices up eagerly, not sparing a drop. 

When he’s cleaned you up with his tongue, he kisses his way back up your body, hands roaming over your shorter frame, coming to rest on the softness of your breasts. It’s like he can’t touch you enough, like he wants to touch you everywhere, all at once. You stand back up and lean into him, head falling onto his shoulder so you can kiss him. The feeling of his lips and tongue on your neglected ones sparks the fire in you once again, the butterflies in your tummy stirring to life. 

He slowly turns you to face him while you share deep, long kisses. You grip the hem of his t-shirt and pull it up over his head, his arms lifting to accommodate the swift movement. Your arms slide around his waist and you cling to him as he holds you. “You’d better give me that vitamin D now,” you tell him with a warning tone. 

He releases a soft chuckle, breaking away from you to stretch over the counter and grab your pill box, “They’re right here, hon.”

You flick his nipple in response and he feigns being hurt before both of you laugh. Your joined laughter quietens down however when you wrap your hand around his thick, leaking cock, and pump him slowly while you gaze into his eyes. 

He’d been with you for years, married for half of one, but he knew that he’d never, ever, get tired of that salacious look that you gave him when you wanted him. 

He wets his lips as he returns your longing gaze, and he lets out a quiet, “Fuck, sweetheart…” while you thumb his slit and tease the sensitive underside of his tip. 

Your hand falls away when he crouches down a few inches and lifts you easily, placing you on the kitchen counter. You watch as his cock bobs up and down from this swift movement. Instantly, your legs fall open and you use the heels of your feet to pull him towards you; the need to have him inside you was becoming unbearable. 

You felt the emptiness within you, the deep, carnal desire to have him fill you and stretch you out. 

He crushes his lips against yours again, sighing, “You keep looking at me like that, baby, and I’ll cum too soon.”

You whimper against his lips, feeling him nudging the fat head of his cock along your folds, teasing your swollen bud before trailing down to your quivering entrance that was desperate to be filled. 

His tongue tangles with yours, your hands gripping onto his broad shoulders as he presses his tip into you and slowly pushes his hips forward. 

You bite on his lip, breath catching when he pushes past the ring of resistance. He doesn’t go far before he’s drawing his hips back and then thrusting into you again shallowly. A whine escapes you while he’s working you open on his delicious cock, taking his time to make sure you’re adjusted to his girth. 

He rolls his hips steadily, dipping his head and wrapping his lips around the taut peak of your nipple, sucking eagerly. At this, your cunt greedily sucks him in more and he moans to your skin, fucking into you more, and then he slides all the way home, bottoming out inside your snug walls. Your face twists in pleasure, eyes rolling back in your head. He stays there for a moment, his pubic bone flush against yours. 

“So damn perfect,” he murmurs, and your walls flutter around him in response. This earns a deep groan from him and he draws his hips back and starts to fuck into you harder.

You brows knit together and you inhale sharply as you feel the heavy drag of him inside you, how he pulls out so that only the fat head of him stays inside, and how he thrusts back into you completely, feeding you every inch of his delicious cock.

Your legs are locked around his hips but with each deep thrust from him, your mind becomes hazy and your legs loosen up a little. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he noses your neck and keeps a steady pace, the wet thump, thump, thump of his hips hitting yours filling the kitchen. 

Your mouth falls open and your body becomes a little lax, your breaths coming out shakily as you focus on the pleasure coursing through your body while he impales you on his cock repeatedly. “Feels s-so…so good, baby…making me feel s-so good,” your voice comes out breathy and high pitched, to which his dick twitches while he’s fucking into you. 

He’s thorough in his approach while you hold onto his neck for balance, and he’s stimulating every part of your beautiful body: lips locked, tongues tangled, fingers rolling your hard nipple between them, his other fingers teasing circles on your throbbing clit, and his cock stretching you out so delightfully that you can only let out pornographic moans.

You’re both panting against each other’s lips as he picks up the pace and thrusts into you faster, with abandon. He rests his forehead against yours, cheeks flushed. “God— I fucking love you… n’ I love fucking you…” his low voice, his words, they go straight to your cunt. 

He takes his hands from your nipple and clit, sliding one arm under your waist as he bows over you more, the other hand gripping your hip in a bruising hold. “Ken…” you moan, “you’re gonna m…make me bruise…”

It’s not so much a protest but more a statement. “Damn right I am…you n’ I both know you love when I mark you up,” he husks, his lips connecting to your neck and sucking a dark mark onto your pulse point, bucking his hips into yours harder, eager to make you cum on his cock. 

Your tits bounce from the force of his thrusts, a sight which he goes crazy for. He’s getting closer to the edge, his mind hazy from how your pussy is greedily sucking him in, enveloping him in your tight warmth every time he slides home. 

You mewl, holding onto his shoulder as he ravages your cunt, letting out shaky breaths while you bring your gaze down to watch the  sensuous way his cock would sink into your wet cunt over and over again. You both love watching because it adds to the pleasure, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge from it. 

“Ken…” you moan, bringing your gaze to his at the same time he looks up to meet yours. He almost cums from that so far gone, cockdrunk look in your eyes, but he manages to keep it at bay for a little longer. 

“Look so damn beautiful taking me like this, sweetheart,” he croons, “give it to me, baby. Cum for me.” A few more pounds of his hips and you’re pushed over the edge, like your body was waiting for his instruction. 

You cry out when your orgasm hits you, walls pulsing so tightly around him that he slows down to feel every clench properly. Your legs quake, and you lock them higher up his hips as your body convulses from the strength of your orgasm. 

Wetness coats his lower abdomen— he lives for getting messy with you like so— and he fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own release while he guides you through yours. 

He grabs one of your legs and pushes it up, using it as leverage to fuck into your heat faster. “Cum in me, Ken…wanna make a baby with you,” you sigh, eyes hooded as he pounds into you. 

He felt like an animal in that moment but your breathy voice, your words, the tight grip of your cunt on him suddenly all overwhelms his senses and he falls into the throes of bliss with a loud groan, crashing his lips to yours as he releases his hot ropes inside you, painting your walls white. 

You cling to each other, sharing open mouthed, dirty kisses. Your plush walls milk him dry, and he stays inside you, your juices and his cum seeping out around him as you both catch your breaths. 

“Wanna make a baby, huh…” he pecks your lips a few more times before gazing down at you properly. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum and nod, kissing him again. 

“Hm…we better get more practice in, then.”

You squeal when he picks you up all of a sudden, still inside you, and carries you into your bathroom, quickly turning on the water in the shower and stepping inside with you.  

“Wh— Kent—oh!” You moan the second syllable of his name as he presses you up against the wall and starts to fuck into you again. 

There was something so dirty, so sinful about how he was fucking his cum into you, how insatiable he was from the mere mention of getting you pregnant. 

It’s like a switch had been flipped; you gasp when he takes your legs and pushes them up, pinning you by dangling your legs over the hinge of his arms and holding you in that bent position against the wall with his strong arms. 

The water runs over both of your sweaty bodies, the small enclosure of the shower only accentuating his low grunts and the loud smacks of your hips colliding. He is truly animalistic, rutting his hips into yours, pounding into your cunt desperately, because nothing made him harder, nothing made him more feral for you than the idea of making a family with you. 

You hadn’t had much time to come down from the high of your first orgasm — neither had he — so it’s not long again before another orgasm is creeping up on the both of you. 

“I’m close, Ken, mm…” you clutch onto his broad frame, bringing your lips to his in a needy kiss. 

“Me too, honey,” he pants against your lips, “cum with me.”

The base of his cock grazes your clit and his balls slap against your ass with each punishing thrust into you, and you let out a cry from the sudden intensity of the orgasm that overcomes you. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” Kento’s voice is strained as he keeps fucking into you but his hips stutter because your pussy is gripping him so tightly he can’t even think straight. 

Tears sting at your eyes because you’ve cum so hard, and when he sees this, he feels himself start to cum again. This time, he slows down, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he buries his face into your neck and releases his hot load into your waiting cunt. 

“Honey…” he breathes out, and you run your nails gently over his muscled back, kissing his temple. “I love you so much,” he mumbles tiredly, spent, but knowing he couldn’t put you down yet because you wouldn’t be able to stand. 

You cup his face in your hands as you sigh contently, and bring his face to yours to kiss him once again, “I love you more, you animal.”

He lets out a quiet laugh to your lips, “Can you blame me?”

*

It’s about 6 weeks later that you find yourself sat on the toilet, peeing on a couple of tests. There had been a noticeable change in your body, you felt with certainty that something was different. That and, of course, your period being late. 

You finish peeing and clean up after putting the tests on the counter. You dry your hands and inhale a deep breath while you wait, peeking but not expecting anything because the time hadn’t finished yet. 

But there it was. Two lines in BOLD, on the cheap one, and an affirmative ‘Pregnant’ on the other. You blink at the confirmation and let out a laugh; you’d heard about this before, how tests can show up quicker than expected if the pregnancy hormone is extremely high. He had knocked you up, alright. 

You’re elated. His dream, your dream, of having a family, it was becoming reality. You slip out of the bathroom and into the living room, where he was reading. 

 “I think I need to get some other vitamins, my love,” you tell him as you sit next to him and slide your arms around his neck, kissing his shoulder over his shirt. 

He brings his gaze to you. “But the doctor said that your levels for everything else were healthy, sweetheart…?”

He sees the way that your eyes sparkle and he relaxes a little. “Well…I think we need to revisit the doctor. I’m going to need some folic acid.”

He blinks at you; it clicks immediately. The joy that spreads across his expression is undeniable, “Honey…you’re…you’re pregnant?” 

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

Divider by cafekitsune

[snoopyracing]

birds of a feather // cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

word count: 30k (i know i've got issues)

warnings: google translate french and swearing

includes: friends to lovers, childhood bestfriends, soulmate au if you squint, heavy pining, and angst

summary: follows charles and the reader through childhood all the way to present day. based off of 'birds of a feather' by billie eilish.

masterlist

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

five and eight

It's a hot summer day in Monaco the first time Charles meets you.

The evening sun cascaded through the windows, golden rays bouncing off the walls as the smell of his Mother's baking wafted through the house. Charles' legs soon carried him into the kitchen and to his delight he found her oven-mitt clad hand pulling out a tray from the oven. His eyes widen when he sees what it is, it's one of his favorite sweet treats; cookies. His Mother spots him as she turns to set them on the counter. "Bonjour chéri!"

Charles doesn't answer, he's too focused on the cookies. He knows she won't let him have one, it's too close to dinner time, but he could probably sneak one when she had her back turned. So when she goes to put something back in the fridge he knows this is his chance, but he's not fast enough. His little hand barely hovers over one of the cookies before his Mother is gently smacking it away.

"No Charles! They are for the Y/L/N's." She hands him a stack of plates, motioning towards the table. "Now go set the table, s'il te plaît." Charles whines about it not being fair before stomping towards the table.

All day the only topic of conversation in the Leclerc household was about how an old family friend was to be moving back to Monaco today. Charles and Arthur had no idea who the man their Father spoke so highly about was, but Lorenzo mentioned something about him being their "uncle", but not really their uncle. Something that at only eight years old, confused Charles.

Even during dinner it seems like his Father mentions their "uncle" somehow during every conversation. Between the constant talk of this mystery man and the cookies sitting feet away from him Charles thinks tonight's dinner is the longest dinner of his life. He can see them sitting there, the cookies taunting him the whole time he tries to eat the unpleasant brussel sprouts on his plate. He hears his Father mention their "uncle" again and his attention is brought back to the conversation. "Papa. Is he really our uncle?" Charles asks as he shoves around the food on his plate with his fork.

"Ah, no. I mean he practically is, but not by blood. He is a very old friend of mine. We grew up together, but he moved to America around nine years ago." He pauses for a moment, eyes flickering between Charles and Arthur. "I hate that Arthur and you don't know him, but he's back now, so hopefully you boys will see him as an uncle like Lorenzo does. Plus, their house is just down the street, so I'm sure we will be spending lots of time with each other."

All Charles can do is nod at him, he isn't sure that he can call this random man "uncle", but for his Father he will try to like him as much as he clearly does.

Dinner is over shortly after their conversation, with a little help from his Father's impatience to go see his old friend. And before Charles can try and sneak a cookie again they are out the door, the cookies held securely in his Mother's hands, heading to their "uncles" house.

Charles realizes his Father wasn't lying when he said their house was just down the street, in fact it's only a block away. He's surprised his Father wasn't dragging them here earlier today with how close it is.

His Father knocks on the door and after a moment a man answers."Hervé!” 

"Y/D/N!"

The two men embrace each other, big smiles plastered on both of their faces. "If it was up to me we would have been over as soon as you guys arrived earlier today, but Pascale insisted we give you guys a little time to settle in."

"Oh nonsense. You're fine." The man steps aside, motioning for everyone to come in. "Come on in. Don't mind the million boxes scattered around."

"It's a beautiful home." Pascale states as she glances around.

"Merci."

The man's eyes wander to Charles and his brothers. His arms extend towards Lorenzo and the two of them hug, the man tousling Lorenzo's hair as they pull away. "Dieu te regarde! You're practically a man!"

Lorenzo can only laugh at the man, whose attention is now on the two youngest Leclerc boys. He crouches down so he's at eye level with them. "Bonjour. I don't think we have met yet. I'm Y/D/N, a very old friend of your Papa's." His hand reaches out for Charles to shake. "You must be Charles."

Charles gently takes Y/D/N's hand and shakes it, something he's seen his Father do hundreds of times. "I am. How did you know?"

A smirk plays at Y/D/N's lips. "When your Papa and I speak, he loves to talk about his boys. Even the ones I didn't get the pleasure of meeting until now." His attention now moved to the youngest Leclerc. "Like you little Arthur." Little giggles came from Arthur as the man pinched his cheek.

"Are we going to get to meet the other members of your family Y/D/N?" Pascale asks.

"Patience still isn't your strong suit, is it Pascale?" The man teases as he leads them towards the kitchen.

As they enter the kitchen they find a woman with an American accent putting away dishes into the cabinets. From what Charles can gather from the conversation the adults are having is that their "uncle" met his wife while on business in America. They fell in love and he ended up moving there to be with her. They got married and had a daughter. He wanted to raise her here so they decided to move back to Monaco.

"Guess you should all meet the reason we moved huh? Y/N! Ma chérie come here!" Y/D/N yells.

And here you came, barreling into the kitchen, not knowing that there were five strangers standing there until it was too late. Cheeks turning pink as you hid behind your Mom's legs. "This shy little thing is our daughter, Y/N."

Pascale's face lit up at the sight of you. "Oh tu n'es pas une poupée? She's beautiful you two!" She glances over at your parents then back to you. "You look to be around the age of my two youngest boys, no?" She squats down so the two of you are eye level as you peak around your Mom's legs. "How old are you?" As you lifted your hand, little fingers all stood up straight indicating that you were five, Pascale smiled. 

"Oh, that's the same age as my Arthur." She points towards the smallest boy, who's dirty blonde hair almost covered his eyes. She then points to the slightly taller boy in the middle, his soft blue eyes watching his Mom intently. "That is Charles, he's a little older than Arthur and you. He's eight." Then she finally points to the obviously very older son. "And that is Lorenzo, he's a lot older. It makes me feel old to say this but he's eighteen!"

Your shyness somehow slowly got chipped away by Pascale and you were now standing beside your Mom, not behind her. "Go on baby. Say hi to them." You Mom encouraged as she brushed your hair out of your face.

Even if you had braved coming out from behind your Mom's legs, the idea of talking to these strangers still scared you. You looked over to your Dad who stared back at you, a smile on his face and a slight nod in your direction told you everything was going to be okay.

"Hi." You said meekly.

The two younger boys gave you a small wave in return.

The adults had started to converse, leaving the kids to stand there awkwardly. Not knowing each other well to be the one to initiate conversation or play.

Your Mom had noticed the quietness between you and the boys, and your constant presence by her legs. "Why don't you kids go play out back? The house luckily came with a playset that is begging to be played on." She pulled open the sliding door, motioning for the kids to go outside.

Arthur was the first to run outside, he was practically already at the door when he heard the word playset. His little legs were already running up the slide by the time Charles and you had exited the house.

You watched your feet drag across the grass as you swung back and forth on the swing. Your Dad's voice playing in your head as you heard Charles and Arthur's laughter echo through the hot summer air.

"I know this is a big change for you mon amour. But I promise, we wouldn't have made this big move if your Maman and I didn't think it wouldn't have been a good idea. It may take some time for you to adjust, but knowing you, in a couple weeks you'll probably be more of a Monégasque than me!"

"I'm only half though. How could I be more than you Papa?" Tiny giggles escaping you as you gave your Father a questioning look.

"Anything is possible chérie! Plus you remember me talking about your uncle Hervé? Well, he has two boys that are around the same age as you. And I'm positive you three will become the bestest of friends like we were at that age in no time. When your Uncle Hervé and I were younger people would always say "Wherever there is a Y/L/N there is a Leclerc" and I'm sure it will live on through you three."

As you watched the two Leclerc boys chase each other through the yard, you knew your Dad would want you to get up and go join them. He seemed so excited at the idea of you and the boys being friends and you didn't want to disappoint him, but at only five years old, your shyness overruled the majority of your decisions.

Charles, even though he was playing with his brother, had noticed how you hadn't left the swing since coming outside. He tried to put himself in your shoes, he couldn't even imagine what it would be like to move halfway across the world.

What it would be like to leave everything you've ever known behind and move to a country that is nothing like the one you'd spent your whole life in so far. Even if your Father was from here and technically Monaco is as much of your home as America ever was, he knows that at least right now, this place means nothing to you.

So, being the empath that he is, Charles decides that it's his mission to make you feel at home. To make you realize that Monaco has been your home all along. That if he was you right now, all he would want is for someone to befriend him, make him feel less alone. His first step; asking you to play.

His skinny frame soon occupies the empty swing next to you, hands gripping the chains as he barely moves back and forth. His feet mimicked yours, dirt and grass staining his white sneakers.

"Hi." Charles watched as your head perked up at his voice. Your doe eyes timidly looking over at him like you weren't sure if he was speaking to you.

"Hi."

"Do you wanna play with Arthur and me?" Charles hopes you don't run back inside after hearing his question, but when your face lights up, head nodding enthusiastically, his worries dissipate. You were just so glad that he had come over and asked you, because you would have sat there on that swing all evening if he hadn't.

In a matter of minutes your shyness and worries about upsetting your Father were replaced with bouts of laughter as Arthur and you ran from Charles. Gleeful screams and giggles filled the evening air as the three of you played and for the first time since getting told you were moving you felt carefree.

The loud laughter and yelling had gotten the attention of the adults and as they watched their children play through the sliding glass door they couldn't wipe the smiles off their faces.

"That didn't take long did it?" Your Mom felt a relief wash over her. At only five years old she knew this move was going to be hard on you, and she wished they could have just stayed in America. But who was she to deprive you of experiencing the life that was quite literally half of you. Deprive her husband of seeing his little girl experience the same things he did as a child.

And as she watched the way the three kids played together she knew it was the right decision. For you to come out of your shell so quickly meant that maybe things weren't going to be so bad here after all.

"Of course it didn't." Your Dad stood behind your Mom, his hand on her shoulder as he watched his little girl laugh and run around. "Because wherever there is a Y/L/N-"

"there is a Leclerc." Hervé finished, an equally big smile on his face.

The painting of orange and pink hues that filled the evening sky told everyone that the sun was making her farewell for the day. Though, that didn't stop you and the boys from still playing and eventually as the colorful painting turned to a star filled sky you all were called inside.

Rosy cheeks and sweaty foreheads adorned all three of your faces as you clambered into the kitchen. "Looks like you kids had fun." Pascale had grabbed the cookies off the counter, but as she opened the lid to offer the kids one, she had a better idea. "How about some ice cream?" Charles' eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. He loved cookies, but his one true love was ice cream. "I think the place down the road is still open."

And with an unspoken agreement, they are all out the door and headed towards the ice cream shop. Charles and you walk side by side with Arthur trailing behind the two of you. His complaints about being left out falling on deaf ears as Charles tells you about how good the ice cream place is.

The walk isn't a long one and before you realize it, you've arrived. The sickeningly sweet smell hits you as soon as you walk through the door, and your short legs carry you towards the counter, not paying mind to any sort of line that was already formed. Your face was practically pressed against the glass as you looked at all the flavors to choose from. But even with flavors like triple chocolate or strawberry or peanut butter cup. You always go with your tried and true; vanilla.

Charles and Arthur had joined you, faces as equally as close to the glass as yours.

"You think Maman will let me try them all?" Arthur asks, mouth practically watering at the sight in front of him.

"I don't know about that." You recognize your Dad's voice behind you. "You guys tell me what you want and then go wait at the table outside with Lorenzo." The three of you reluctantly turn away from the ice cream and when Arthur tells your Dad he wants mint, Charles and you share a disgusted look. "Ok mint for Arthur, what about you two?"

"Vanilla!" Comes out of both Charles and your mouth. Big smiles spread across your faces as you realize you both said the same thing.

"No way that's my favorite flavor!" Charles exclaims.

"Mine too!"

By the time your Dad comes outside with the ice cream Charles and you had established that; vanilla was the best flavor of ice cream ever, blue was your favorite color, red was his, you both loved dogs, and that he wanted to be a Formula 1 driver when he grew up. You didn't really know what that was, you think you had heard your Dad talking about it or watching it before, but the way Charles talked about it, it seemed like it was something big.

After many brain freezes and Arthur trying to make Charles and you try his mint ice cream, the night was coming to an end. The walk back home was filled with talks of things that you guys had to do this summer, according to Charles, and about how tonight would not be the last trip to the ice cream shop.

As you arrived at your house the grownups said their farewells and goodnights, while you gave everyone a simple wave goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow!" Charles yelled as you entered the front door, and all you could do was yell back.

"Ok!"

And Charles wasn't lying, you did see him the next day, and the day after that. In fact, any free day that you or the youngest Leclerc boys had were spent in each other's company that summer. By the time school started back up the three of you were inseparable. 

The idea of starting at a new school in a different country while knowing no one scared you, so you were glad to have Arthur with you in class and just knowing Charles was in the building made you feel more at ease. Any worries you had about moving to Monaco had dissipated and Charles had just somehow knew that he had accomplished his mission of making you feel at home. It may have taken him all summer, but you were practically family at this point to him.

So when he heard from Arthur about a couple boys in your class not being the friendliest towards you, something about you being an annoying American, he knew he had to defend you.

Charles fortunately had caught them in the act one day. Your cheeks slightly damp and eyes red told Charles it wasn't just them saying you were annoying. You wouldn't tell him what they said to you, but that didn't stop him from telling the boys off. It didn't take much for them to run off, heck Charles could have just stared at them and they probably would have darted, him somewhat forgetting they were probably only five or six, but still there was no reason for them to be mean to you.

Charles wiped away your tears before pulling you in for a hug. "They shouldn't bother you anymore, but if they ever do come tell me. You know you've always got me and Arthur and if it gets bad enough I guess we could tell Lorenzo." The mention of the oldest Leclerc boy made you giggle and Charles was so happy to see a smile on your face again. "You've always got me Y/N, we've got each other. I promise." He held out his pinky finger towards you and you hooked yours around his, officially sealing the promise

And from that moment on, you two always did have each other.

 ten and thirteen

Five years had passed since you first met Charles, and in those five years your bond only grew stronger. Not only with each other, but with each other's families too. To Pascale you were the daughter she always wanted and your Dad treated the Leclerc boys like his sons. It was like you guys filled in the missing pieces in each other's families.

Multiple scrapbooks were filled over the years with memories that would last a lifetime. Pictures of the joint family vacations that were taken every year, first and last day of school pictures, birthdays, and major milestones all filled the pages.

Looking back now your Mom could have kicked herself for ever second guessing the decision to move. Clearly this was where you guys were supposed to be, where you were supposed to be. Everything just felt right. It felt like home.

A new thing that had become a part of your life in the past five years was karting. No, you didn't drive them, but Charles and Arthur did. So, that meant it was now a part of you. Multiple weekends were spent going to watch them race, the smell of exhaust and the sound of the engines were ingrained into your brain, but you had grown fond of it.

Although, in the last couple years Charles had started to take karting very seriously. You knew his dream was to be an F1 driver, and you knew (from him teaching you everything about it one day) how much dedication it took from a young age to get to the top. So, over the last year, when almost every weekend he was busy, you tried not to take it to heart.

Unfortunately for Arthur, this year his family had decided to focus solely on Charles' career for the time being, as karting was expensive, and having two boys doing it was just not something they could swing. But with Charles busy and Arthur now free it was almost like the boys had flip flopped positions in your life.

Between the two youngest Leclerc boys it was always very obvious that you gravitated more towards Charles, the two of you having a bond that many didn't understand, especially considering your age gap.

Three years isn't crazy per say, but at the age you two are right now it's a little different. Charles is thirteen, officially a teenager, while you're still only ten. Two very different stages in kids' lives, and sometimes recently it seemed like Charles was moving on, or growing up, and you worried that he wouldn't want to spend time with you anymore. Because really what thirteen year old wants to willingly hang out with a ten year old? You know you wouldn't want to hang out with a seven year old. 

But the slight gap that Charles was currently leaving in your life, Arthur had no problem filling it in.

During the school year you spent basically all your time with Arthur, being in the same grade and him not dedicating all his time to karting at the moment was a big contributing factor. You still saw Charles, but nearly as much as you used to. He had moved up to secondary school a year or so ago and unfortunately Arthur and you were still in your last year of primary school. So your time to see Charles was limited to his rare free weekends and sometimes after school. 

You had thought come summer time you would be able to see him more and were banking on your annual family vacation, but you were wrong. In fact, you barely even saw Arthur this summer. They were so busy with Charles karting it was like they didn't even live in their home. And when they were home your family was busy doing something.

The annual family vacation had to be canceled and you had basically gone the whole summer without seeing them. That was until today, two weeks before school started, when you came downstairs to see Charles and Arthur sitting on your couch talking to your Dad, who was sitting in a chair opposite of them.

"Ah, there she is." Your Dad had spotted you from the doorway. "They've come to steal you."

Rounding the side of the couch you were now stood in front of the two boys. Arthur was the first to jump up from the couch, his arms squeezing you into him, the two of you slightly swaying back and forth as giggles escaped past your lips. "Tu m'as manqué aussi Arthur."

As Arthur finally let you go your eyes fell on the middle Leclerc boy, who was still sat on the couch. "Charlie." The nickname you had given him that first summer had still stuck around five years later. It fell off your tongue with ease, basically second nature for you at this point. He never minded when you called him that, in fact sometimes he preferred it, but god forbid anyone else call him that.

You could see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, dimples peaking out as he tried to resist it more. As he stood up from the couch he finally let it free, the corners of his eyes crinkled and dimples on full display as he wrapped his arms around you. You noticed you guys weren't almost the same height anymore, your head hit at about his shoulder now. Had he gotten taller since the last time you saw him? There was no way he had grown that much in almost two months, but yet the proof was standing right infront of you.

"Tu m'as manqué." Charles stated as he pulled away from the hug.

"I figured you'd have your kart seat stuck to you when I saw you again."

"Well when that seat becomes an F1 seat, I know who will be the last person I invite to a race."

You wedged yourself between the two brothers on the couch as you rolled your eyes at Charles. "Yeah I won't need an invite because I'll have a permanent paddock pass." You weren't even sure if such a thing as a permanent paddock pass existed, but when Charles makes it into Formula 1, you had better have one.

"No doubt about it." Charles states, which gets him a smile from you in return.

"So what was Papa talking about? You guys are stealing me?"

"We've got something fun planned." Charles had a small smile on his face as he made eye contact with you. And as you stared back at him you noticed something else that had changed in the past two months, his hair. It was shaggy and almost covered his eyes if he didn't have it pushed to the side. You were surprised Pascale hadn't made him cut it yet, or that she hadn't snuck into his room at night and at least trimmed the hair around his face. It was just another sign of how long it had been since you'd seen each other.

You glanced over at your Dad, unsure of what "fun" they had planned, but he was no help. "What is it?"

"It's a surprise." Charles had stood up from the couch, eyes staring back down at you. "Well come on. We don't have all day."

"Be careful! Je t'aime!" Your Dad hollered as the three of you walked out the door.

"Je t'aime aussi!" You hollered back.

The warm sun beat down on you as you walked the familiar streets of Monaco, following the two boys in front of you. Your insistent pleas of wanting to know where you were going were ignored. And it didn't take long for you to just start guessing random places, which were all met with groaned no's from the boys.

Thankfully you guys had arrived at your destination because you were running out of places to name, but the place you were standing in front of was not where you had expected to end up. Though truly you should have known better.

"Did you guys really just bring me here to watch you two drive go-karts?" Of course they brought you to the track. It wasn't like you didn't like watching them race or even just screw around on the karts, but as of recently it was the one thing that was keeping Charles away from you. It just would have been nice to do something that didn't involve karting.

"We aren't the ones who are going to be driving them." Arthur's devious little smile on his face tells you everything you need to know.

"I don't think that's safe, and don't we need an adult with us?" So perhaps you were slightly scared at the idea of driving – no you were actually more worried than scared. You didn't want to seem like an idiot because you didn't know what to do or wreck and make a fool of yourself. That little shy five year old girl was slowly creeping back in as Arthur and Charles practically dragged you inside.

"The adult is already here." Charles points at Lorenzo who's filling out paperwork at the front counter. "I think it's time for you to learn, no?" Your eyes focus on Lorenzo, praying as an adult he has enough sense to not let this happen. But it was no use, he had already handed the worker the paperwork and was walking towards you with a bunch of gear in his hands.

"No chickening out this time petite soeur. Today is the day." Lorenzo stated.

Before you can even protest anymore Lorenzo is handing you all this stuff to put on, arms overflowing as you stare at him wide-eyed. "Do I really need all of this for" you glance over at the track then back at Charles "an indoor track?"

"Safety first Y/N. Plus you need to have the full karting experience." His dimples on display as he gives you a reassuring smile, that somehow works wonders on you, because you're putting on all the gear without him even asking. "Oh wait you're gonna need this." He slides a hair tie off his wrist and hands it over to you. His action put a smile on your face as you quickly tied your hair back.

It was something Charles had done for a couple years now, always having a hair tie on him. You were always pushing your hair out of your face or complaining about it being hot and of course you never had a hair tie with you. So, he just started wearing one on his wrist, so when you eventually needed one, he was there to provide.

With your gear on you guys walked over towards one of the karts and you made sure to listen intently as Charles explained how to work everything.

You slipped the helmet on and sat down in the kart, praying that you could remember what Charles had told you. "You've got this. Just remember what I said and we will be right here if you need us. I’ll be right here. I promise." Charles holds out his pinky finger, the familiar gesture between the two of you meant much more than just a simple promise. And as you hook your finger around his, you know it's going to be okay. "Please be careful. I think your Papa will have my head if you come back with even just a scratch." Lorenzo says as he double checks that you're strapped in well enough.

"I'll be fine."

You gave Charles one last final glance, who stood there giving you a thumbs up, before pressing your foot down on the accelerator. At first you were going so slow, scared that if you went too fast you were gonna wreck. But as you completed a couple laps you started to feel more comfortable and the cheers from the boys helped you out too.

"Floor it!" Arthur yells as you pass by on another lap.

You were really starting to have fun, so you listened to Arthur and pressed the pedal all the way down on the next straightaway. You felt like you were flying, but what you didn't know was that they had put you in the slowest kart, so you really weren't going as fast as you thought you were.

After a couple more laps Charles stood by the starting line, waving the checkered flag, a cheesy grin on his face as you passed by him. As the kart came to a stop you understood why they loved karting so much, it wasn't just fun, it was exhilarating, addicting, you already wanted to go again.

The boys surrounded the kart as you undid the straps and climbed out. As you took off the helmet you couldn't wipe the grin off your face. "Looks like you might have some competition Charles." Lorenzo teases.

Charles ignored his big brother's teasing and shifted his focus back to you. He had felt bad about not seeing you all summer and in all honesty not that much over this past year. But things in his life were changing, karting was becoming a much bigger deal, and he was winning, like a lot. He knew things were only going to go up from here. And as much as he loved racing, and god did he love it, he breathed it he dreamt it, racing was in his blood. There just weren't many times anymore where he felt like a thirteen year old, like a kid. It sometimes felt like he was missing out on things.

But Charles knew that when he came home from a busy weekend or practically a whole summer filled with racing, that things would always be the same at home. His Mom would always make spaghetti on Tuesday nights, you had to jiggle the handle on the gate to the backyard to get it to open, if you went into the ice cream shop on a Thursday night when the owner wasn't there you'd get extra ice cream, the lady across the street will yell at your for playing in the street, and you will always be a couple houses down. 

He knew that when he was around you that he could feel like a kid again. Sure, he had made plenty of friends through racing, but it seemed like all their conversations always somehow revolved or ended up referring to racing. Which wasn't a bad thing, because of course Charles loved racing. But sometimes he just wanted to talk about video games or other sports, or just something random. And he could do that with you.

Now granted, for someone who wanted to have a little break from racing before school started, you'd think he wouldn't be back at a track the first chance he got. But Charles had wanted to teach you how to kart for years, but each time he had mentioned it you chickened out. So he had finally gotten the nerve, with a little help from Lorenzo and Arthur, to just force you to learn.

He knew you'd do a good job, he never had a doubt. It was just your worries that prevented you from learning earlier. He knew you had grown to love the sport, from tagging along to some of his races, or how you can't wait for the Monaco grand prix every year, not to mention how glued you are to the TV when his free weekends and the F1 schedule line up. So, somehow in his own weird way, Charles knew you'd be a natural.

"You did do a good job, I'm proud of you." Charles flashes you a smile as you guys exit the track.

"Merci Charlie." You quickly shed all the gear and handed it back to Lorenzo. "I don't know why you guys didn't teach me earlier. That was so much fun. I see why you guys love it so much."

"Don't act like we haven't tried for years to get you to learn." Charles teases. "We basically just had to force you today."

Memories of all the past failed attempts at teaching you how to kart flooded your mind. The one time you hid in the bathroom claiming to be throwing up, the time you 'tripped' on your way into the building and said you sprained your ankle, or the many times you just flat out refused. So maybe them forcing you was for the better, because you wouldn't have taken the initiative on your own to learn.

"Whatever. At least I finally learned."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The walk back to your house was filled with Charles filling you in on his exciting karting filled summer. From the new friends he had made to the races he had won, he didn't spare any detail. And you just walked beside him, listening to his every word, grateful to just have him back around. Arthur would pipe in occasionally to contradict something Charles had said, fulfilling his little brother duties. And as the three of you traveled through the principality, the summer sun high in the sky, you wished every day could be like this.

The fragrant jasmine shrubs that lined the sidewalk told you guys that you were close to home. "You guys wanna stay for dinner? It's Friday which means Mom's making something pasta related."

Charles would never turn down a Friday night dinner at your house and so he had no trouble in accepting your invitation. Arthur declined, stating that he was going to hang out with some of his other friends, and Lorenzo had split from you guys at the track. Which meant it was just Charles and you, which was fine with you.

The smell of your Mom's famous red sauce, that she swore had to cook for at least half the day, filled your nostrils as you walked through the door. "Mom! Papa! I’m home!"

"In the kitchen!" You heard your Mom shout.

You found your Mom furiously stirring something on the stove as Charles and you sat at the island counter directly in front of her. She tore her attention away from her cooking just long enough to notice Charles was with you. "Well look who's back! I hope you're staying for dinner?" A big smile accompanied her words as she spoke to Charles.

"Of course, you know I love Friday pasta nights."

"Well it's still gonna be a little bit until everything is ready, so if you kids are hungry grab a little snack or something." Her attention was already back to the bubbling pot in front of her before she had finished speaking.

Charles' stomach had been growling the whole walk home, and now sitting here smelling your Mom's cooking had it growling even more. So, he took up her offer and grabbed two tangerines from the bowl of fruit on the counter. Without even thinking about it, he peeled the first one and handed it over to you.

"You're spoiling her by peeling that for her Charles." Your Dad stated as he walked into the kitchen.

Charles shrugged at your Dad's comment as he continued to peel his own tangerine. "I don't mind it. I know she doesn't like to peel them and it's really not a big deal to me. So I guess as long as I'm around she won't have to."

You never gave a second thought about Charles peeling your fruit for you. He's done it ever since you expressed your dislike for peeling them years ago. To you it wasn't you being spoiled, it was just your best friend doing something nice for you. You gave Charles a smile as you popped another piece of the tangerine in your mouth. "Merci Charles." As you looked back towards your parents, you caught them staring at each other, eyebrows slightly raised, and smiles on their faces. "What?" You questioned.

"Oh nothing sweetie." Your Mom answered, attention turning back to the food. She knew you'd figure it out eventually.

The topic of conversation during dinner was all about karting. Your parents wanted to know all about Charles' wins and if anything exciting had happened during any of his races. Charles truly was like a son to them, granted all three of the Leclerc boys were, but you knew Charles was their favorite. They sat there listening intently as he told them everything and your Dad gave him nothing but praises back.

"You're gonna do great things Charles. I just know it."

And finally when Charles changed the conversation to how he finally taught you how to kart, your Dad though first worried at the idea of you getting hurt, was ecstatic to hear that you were quite good and that you enjoyed it. Your Mom didn't like the idea at all, the sour look on her face told you everything. "I can barely handle watching Charles, let alone my baby."

"I was the only one on the track, Mom. Plus it was just for fun, you don't have to worry about me doing the real thing. I really was not as good as Charles says I was." You tried to reassure her, but she still didn't seem pleased.

"Maybe it will help to know that we put her in the slowest kart." Charles chimed in.

Your head whipped to the right of you, where Charles was sat. "You put me in the slowest one?! You really thought I’d be that bad?"

"It was your first time! You were nervous as is, let alone putting you in a fast one."

A scoff came from you. "I feel cheated out of a real experience."

"Well, the slowest is fine with me. In fact, how do we find one slower than the slowest?" Your Mom inquired, nothing shy of a serious look on her face.

As dinner came to an end Charles and you helped clean up and then ventured out back. The sun had just set, allowing for dusk to settle in, the remnants of the sunset still lingering in the sky. The two of you found yourselves on familiar territory, the swings. The metal chains had slightly rusted over the years, but still held strong as the two of you swayed back and forth on them.

Silence fell between the two of you as you tried to figure out how to talk to Charles about the thing that had been subconsciously bothering you for a while. 

Him forgetting about you. 

He had his head down, staring at his feet as he slowly swung back and forth on the swing. "Charles?" He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, blue eyes slightly covered by his shaggy hair.

"Yeah?"

Your hands gripped the chains tighter as you stilled your movements, feet planted firmly in the worn patch of grass. "I need you to make me a promise."

He had copied your actions, even going as far as turning slightly to face you as he spoke. "For what?"

"I need you to promise that you won't forget about me. That when you make it into F1 and become super famous that you won't think I'm some loser. Or even when you move up to F3, just please promise me you won't forget about me."

Charles frowned at your words, never in a million years would he forget about you, or think you were a loser. He didn't want to get into F1 to become famous, yeah it was a perk of the job, but he wanted a seat in F1 because he loved racing, and it meant that he was one of the best in the world.

He held out his pinky finger towards you. "Do you remember what I said to you when those boys were teasing you during your first year here?" You shook your head, the memory replaying in your mind. "That you’ve always got me and I’ve always got you. So that means I don't think I could ever forget about you Y/N, whether I make it into F1 or not. And If I do, I'm gonna need my number one supporter there by my side aren't I? So I promise I won’t forget you."

A big smile spread across your face at his words and as you hooked your pinky finger around his, you knew the promise was true.

But what you didn't know was that sometimes promises are broken.

thirteen and sixteen

Thirteen is a very weird year for you. 

It’s not puberty or the ever revolving drama that comes with being thirteen that is making it a weird year. It’s the embarrassingly painful crush you’ve got on Charles. 

It’s a cliche really, having a crush on the cute older boy you’ve grown up with. 

And one might ask why is it embarrassing? For starters, you can’t be around him for more than five minutes without turning into a blushing mess. He stares at you for longer than a second? Game over. He smiles at you? Done for. He laughs at something you said? You’re dead. 

He doesn’t know he’s turning your thirteen year old brain into mush just by simply existing and it’s embarrassing to even think about him knowing that. 

On the other hand, it’s painful. You’re thirteen and he’s sixteen, once again at very different stages in life. And you know that he doesn’t like you back, that he only sees you as a little sister, but it still hurts. It hurts because you’re thirteen and you think that you’re mature for your age and you honestly think why wouldn’t he like you back. It’s something almost every young girl goes through, and unfortunately it’s happening to you with someone you are very close with. 

Yes, you had always thought he was cute, but that's because he was. That fluffy brown hair, long thick eyelashes that adorned his pretty eyes, his dimples, the little crinkles by his eyes when he smiled. Okay– so maybe that's how you would describe him now, but still, he was a cute kid also, there was no denying that. 

 But if you really had to figure out when you realized you had a crush on Charles it had to have been this past Christmas.   

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The holidays in Monaco were somewhat different than the few years you remembered back in America. You had stopped celebrating Thanksgiving after your Mom’s failed attempt at trying to make a Thanksgiving dinner your first year here. It wasn’t that your Mom was a bad cook, it was that it was somewhat hard to find everything needed for a Thanksgiving dinner in Monaco. And as hard as your Mom tried to make it work, it just wasn’t the same without that damn Ocean Spray cranberry sauce. 

So to make up for not celebrating Thanksgiving your family truly went all out for Christmas. The couple Christmases that you could remember back in America were nothing shy of magical, but ever since moving to Monaco, your family took Christmas very seriously. There was no denying that part of your household was American, because every year your house looked like it came straight out of a cult classic Christmas movie. Like Kevin McCallister or Clark Griswold had taken up residence in Monaco for the holidays. 

It wasn’t just the outside that was decorated, the inside was just as festive and of course the tree was the main focal point. It was a busy tree, your Mom never liked an aesthetically pleasing tree, it was sentimental or nothing to her. Ornaments that were passed down on her side of the family, ones you had made in school, and some you had gotten after moving all had a home on the tree. 

And as if decorating wasn’t enough for your family, your traditions were even more of a big deal. The most important one to you though was making cookies on Christmas Eve. Mainly because Arthur and Charles had been doing it with you since your first Christmas in Monaco. 

Christmas music played on the record player in the living room, the sound traveling into the kitchen as your Mom and you made sure you had everything ready to bake. You were in your own little world, picking out your favorite cookie cutters and humming along to Wham!’s Last Christmas when you heard your Mom speak up. “You’re just in time Charles.” 

Your eyes moved away from the pile of cookie cutters up to the garland decorated doorway where Charles was standing. A smile slowly crept its way onto your face as the two of you made eye contact. He looked cozy, the sweater he had on was slightly oversized and his hair had a messy fluffy look to it. 

You watched as he talked to your Mom, she was surely talking to him about racing, and he would always gladly answer her questions, as she was nothing shy of a second Mom to him. The longer you stared at him, you could feel your heartbeat quickening. And a feeling was arising in you that you had only ever experienced with a boy in your class a year or so ago.  Though, the feeling didn’t last long, you had caught him picking his nose, and with that went away any feelings you had towards him. 

You didn’t even want to think about the word that was happening right now, the idea of it only making your heart race even faster. You tore your eyes away from Charles and noticed that the youngest Leclerc brother was missing, so you blamed your rapid heart beat and surely pink cheeks on that.

You cleared your throat and tried to gather yourself before speaking. “Where’s Arthur?” 

Charles' attention was torn away from your Mom over to you. He pursed his lips, he didn’t know how to say nicely that Arthur said that baking Christmas cookies was for little kids, and he wasn’t a little kid anymore. He let out a sigh before speaking. “He’s not coming, he said he’s too old to be baking cookies.”

“But its-” 

“I know. I told him that it’s tradition and that you would be upset, but he wasn’t budging. So you’re stuck with just me.” 

It annoyed you that Arthur had bailed on you. There was no such thing as being too old to bake cookies, he was just being a jerk. And as far as you were concerned, he’s not allowed any of the cookies when your families have Christmas together tomorrow evening. 

On the bright side you get to have some one on one time with Charles, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise– Arthur bailing on you. You picked up the recipe card from the counter, waving it around in the air. “Well let’s get to work then.” 

Charles is at your side in an instant, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater as he waits for further instruction. 

“Do you think you kids can handle doing it by yourselves this year? I’ve got some last minute gifts that need to be wrapped.” Your Mom inquired, hopeful that you wouldn’t burn the house down on Christmas Eve. 

You didn’t even look up at her, eyes focused on the recipe in front of you, this was clearly something you took seriously. “Yes Mom.” 

Without a word she was gone, leaving Charles and you to your own devices. 

You can feel Charles peering over your shoulder. He’s practically right up against your side and you can feel the soft material of his sweater on your arm. All you can smell is his cologne, something he had started to use within the last year or two, thankfully moving on from the Axe body spray phase. And you’re trying not to make this seem like a big deal, because it’s truly not, but something has shifted in your thirteen year old brain. The same brain being scrambled by him right now, and you think you’ve read the damn recipe card at least ten times now. 

“Did you forget that the recipe is in American measuring terms?” Charles asks. The recipe was your Grandma’s and your Mom had never been bothered to convert it to the metric system. 

“Nope, just double checking everything.” You force a smile as you set down the recipe card and grab a mixing bowl. You added all the ingredients and made Charles do all the labor, which meant he had to mix it and then roll out the dough. 

You dug through the pile of cookie cutters looking for Charles favorite one. “Herree it isss.” You spoke in a sing songy voice as you held up the cookie cutter to Charles. His favorite in question? A penguin with a Santa hat on. Without fail, every Christmas, for the past eight years. Charles made an excessive amount of Santa hat penguin cookies. 

A grin spread across his face as you placed it in his hand. “Wouldn’t be Christmas without this guy.” He wasted no time in pressing the cutter down into the dough and before you guys knew it the first batch was done and in the oven. 

As you started on the next batch Charles kept a close eye on the baking cookies. The two of you allowed for Michael Buble to fill silence in the air and the mouthwatering smell of the cookies soon filled your nostrils. “You know you still call her Mom?”

Your eyebrows furrowed at Charles' random statement. “Huh?” 

He walked away from the oven and back to his original spot next to you. “You still call your Maman Mom.” 

“Yes?” You weren’t really sure where he was going with this, it was nothing new to either of you. 

“I just figured by now you would have made the switch. You speak French with everyone else.” 

You shrugged your shoulders at him, you had never really considered it, the idea felt weird even just thinking about it now. “I’ve always spoken English with my Mom and French with Papa. It would feel weird to switch stuff around now.” You stirred in the flour as you continued the conversation. “You know I could give you some English lessons if you’d like. I think that might have been what you were hinting at.” You teased. 

Charles' eyes widened at your words. “Are you saying my English is not good? I think I speak English very good!” 

“Well.” You didn’t skip a beat. 

“What?” 

“You think you speak English very w-” 

In an instant there is flour all over the upper part of your body, your movements stilled as you’re processing what Charles had just done. You’re mad at first, actually seething because your hair looked so good today and now it’s covered in flour. And you can’t see Charles because you haven’t moved an inch since he threw the flour at you, but he went from having a shit eating grin on his face to a oh shit expression. Your quietness has him worried that you’re actually really pissed at him, but when he hears his nickname come past your lips he knows you're not that mad at him. 

“Charlie. You better run.” 

He isn’t sure he’s heard you right, but when he sees you pick up the whole bag of flour his sock clad feet are sliding on the floor as he runs around the other side of the kitchen island. You're playing cat and mouse around the island for quite some time. The beeping from the oven time ignored multiple times as giggles from both of you filled the room. 

As Charles rounds the corner again his foot catches on one of the barstool legs and you know you’ve finally got him. He doesn’t fall, but he slips just enough to allow you to fully catch up to him. And you may or may not have thrown the whole bag of flour at him, but him being covered head to toe in flour says it was the whole bag. You definitely got him 10x worse than he did you and from that gleam in his eye you know what he’s going to do, but you can’t get away fast enough and his arms are around you in an instant. He shakes his head trying to get as much of the flour off of him and onto you and by you trying to free yourself from his grip he’s transferred a good amount from his clothes onto yours. “Charles! Let me go!” Your pleas are pitiful, laughter dripping off every word. 

“Oh my god!” 

Both of your eyes widen, bodies frozen at the sound of your Mom’s less than pleased voice. The two of you sheepishly stood there as your Mom looks like she’s about ready to cry and cuss you out at the same time. “I can’t leave you two alone for an hour?!” Her eyes shift to behind the two of you, panic written across her face. She’s practically running towards the oven and that’s when you realize the burning smell. And when she not so softly sets the cookie sheet onto the counter you know she’s really not happy. The cookies were burnt to a crisp, the poor Santa hat penguin never stood a chance. “I’m sorry Y/M/N. It was my fault, I started it.” Charles rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 

“I don’t care who started it because you’re both cleaning up this mess.” A deep sigh came from you Mom as she really took in just how big of a mess the two of you had made, her head shaking in disapproval as she left the two of you to clean up. 

When you knew she was out of earshot you couldn’t but let out a little giggle, it was like in school when you weren’t supposed to be laughing, but everything is just so funny, and Charles follows your actions seconds later. The two of you fools, covered in flour, cookies burnt, and in trouble as you stood there laughing. 

That night you couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in your bed, your brain would not shut off. And it wasn’t because you were excited for Christmas morning, you only wished that was the reason. You couldn’t get how good it felt to have Charles arms wrapped around you out of your mind, or how that stupid sweater made him look even more attractive than he already was. 

As you stared up at the ceiling, you knew you were screwed. You had a big fat crush on Charles and it was going to ruin your life. You knew he only saw you as a little sister and that made everything so much more worse to you. Why did you have to develop feelings for him of all people? 

Christmas morning came and went and before you knew it evening had arrived, meaning the Leclerc’s would be arriving soon. You were in charge of setting the table, a task you didn’t mind, considering being in the kitchen with your Mom on any holiday was like asking to get yelled at. As you folded the last napkin neatly and placed it in its rightful spot you heard commotion coming from the front door, undoubtedly the Leclerc’s arriving. You spotted Pascale struggling to juggle all the presents and you hurried towards her, quick to offer a hand. “Merci chéri.” A grateful smile painted across her face.

The pile of presents grows as you place them under the tree and you’d think your family hadn’t already opened some this morning. Everyone settles into their usual spots in the living room, but your usual spot by Charles is left empty, as you’ve scurried into the kitchen. You’d rather face the unwarranted wrath from your Mom than be unable to compose yourself around Charles. But you don’t get to hide in the kitchen for very long because she’s practically done with everything, so you help her bring in all the food to the table, and admire your table setting skills as you do so. 

Dinner is pretty uneventful and luckily your Dad has Charles preoccupied with racing talk for most of the time. But you can’t help but catch his eye from across the table every once in a while and every time you do your heart skips a beat. By the time presents start getting passed around you had successfully avoided Charles for most of the day, but that is ruined when he plops down next to you on the floor, shoulders brushing as he gets situated. 

“Are you mad at me for yesterday?” Charles' voice is low, like he didn’t want anyone to hear, but he could have talked at full volume, no one would have heard him over how loud your Dads were being. 

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“You’ve been avoiding me all day.” 

Your fingers toyed with the lifted corner of wrapping paper on the present in front of you, your brain trying to figure out what to say. Yes, you had been avoiding him, but it wasn’t because you were mad. It was actually the opposite, but you couldn’t tell him that. “I’m not mad at you. Just didn’t want there to be another flour fiasco today. You thought she was mad yesterday, now imagine that while she’s in her holiday cooking zone.” You give him a reassuring smile, hoping that he’s bought what you’ve told him. But he doesn’t get the chance to respond as your Mom’s voice fills the room. 

“Ok does everyone have all their presents? Our Santa this year was less than enthusiastic about handing out the presents.” Your Mom shoots Arthur a look as he sits down on the floor across from Charles and you. 

“There is nothing left under the tree. I promise.” Arthur states. 

“Alright then everyone get after it!” 

Piles of wrapping paper fill the empty spots on the floor in no time and excited gasps fill the room as everyone unwraps their gifts. You’re always so grateful for everything the Leclerc’s get you for Christmas, they treat you like one of their own, and sometimes you feel they spoil you a little too much. 

With each present that you unwrapped that wasn’t from Charles, you start to get a little worried. You guys exchanged presents every year and if he didn’t get you something this year, you think you might die. So when you come to your last present and it says it’s from his parents, you try to hide your disappointment, especially because it’s an amazing gift. You hop up from your spot on the floor and make sure to go thank them personally, hugs and all. And you’re pretty sure you hear them say something about how you’re their daughter too and how you deserve it, but your brain is still thinking about how Charles didn’t get you anything. 

When you go back to your spot a little perfectly wrapped box with a bow on it is sitting there. You know you weren’t sitting on that, so it had to be placed there after you got up. You think it’s one of Charles that he forgot about, but when you bend over to pick it up you see Charles sloppy handwriting on it. A smile spreads across your face as you look over at Charles who has an equally big one on his. You quickly sit down, eager to know what’s inside. 

“Did you think I didn’t get you anything?” Charles questions, a smirk toying at his lips. 

“Maybe.” Yes. 

“I would never.” He bumps his shoulder into yours, motioning for you to open it. “Well, go on. What are you waiting for?” 

You don’t want to seem like you're absolutely ripping into the present, but it probably looks like you are. It’s a tiny box, like one used for jewelry, and you really aren’t expecting Charles to have gotten you jewelry. But when you open the box, nestled in the velvet cushion, is a ring. You glance over at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then back to the ring. It’s just a simple sterling silver ring and somewhat on the smaller side. To be honest Charles could have gotten you a bag of candy and you would have been happy to have just gotten something from him, let alone a ring. 

But when you pick the ring up from the box you see exactly why it’s smaller, and it makes your heart swell. On the inside of the ring you see the words pinky promise engraved into it and as you look over at Charles, he’s holding out his pinky finger, a matching ring adorning it. Your cheeks are hurting from how hard you're smiling, but you don’t care. It’s the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever gotten you and as you slide it onto your pinky finger you feel yourself smiling even more, if that’s possible. Your arms are around Charles instantly, pulling him in towards you, thank you’s tumbling out of your mouth as he giggles in response. 

“I’m glad you like it.” He pauses, trying to figure out the right words to say. “Things are changing. I’m moving up from karting and hopefully into Formula 3 within the next year. It’s just a reminder that we’ve always got each other, even if I’m gone racing or you’re off doing something, we can look at the rings and know we’ve got a piece of each other with us, always.” 

You can’t stop smiling at him, and that crush you’ve got has tripled in size in a few short hours. Your teenage brain over exaggerates everything and you basically think this means you’re gonna be together forever, even though you aren’t even together. 

While you’re in make believe land, your parents are observing the two of you. Whispers and knowing glances are exchanged, between them and your Moms can’t help but think it’s cute how close the two of you are. While your Dad in particular, no matter how he feels about Charles, thinks no boy is good enough for his little girl, let alone some sixteen year old boy. 

Perhaps you may be a little dramatic when you say that this Christmas was the best one you’d had so far, but honestly it was the truth. Sure you realized you had a huge crush on Charles that will probably end in tears, but you also got the most thoughtful gift ever, that you will cherish forever. So yeah, this was a good Christmas, crush aside. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

And so you lived with admiring Charles from afar for months. Enjoying what time you got together and just holding out hope that maybe one day he wouldn’t see you as his little sister. But life had a funny way of hitting you in the face with reality, especially at thirteen. 

When Charles shows up to a joint family dinner one night with a girl around his arm you feel like all the air has escaped your lungs. And when he introduces her to everyone as his girlfriend you plaster on a smile even though you feel like someone has pulled your heart out of your chest and ran it over multiple times.

It’s the longest dinner of your life and while everyone gushes over his girlfriend, asking her all about her life and interests, you poke your food around with your fork. It’s not like you have an appetite anyways, getting your heart broken will do that to you. And it sucks even more because she’s so nice, like insanely nice, you couldn’t even hate her if you wanted to. Not to mention how pretty she was, she was everything, and you were some pimple faced, awkward bodied thirteen year old. 

You fidget with the ring on your finger and your heart races at the idea of Charles not wearing his anymore, your eyes glance over at him and when you spot the ring still on his finger it calms you a little. But that still means nothing, just that he clearly still sees you as a little sister. What you don’t see is how your Mom has been watching you the whole night. You’ve never told her about your feelings towards Charles, but she’s your Mom, she just knows things. And she knows you're hurting right now, so when she changes the topic of conversation at the table you’re eternally grateful. 

It’s an early night for you that night, not bothering to join everyone for a game of UNO, claiming that you aren’t feeling well. When really you couldn’t wait to go upstairs and just cry it out. What did you do to deserve something like this? It hurt so bad, but you knew there was nothing you could do about it. And as you laid in bed that night all you could think about was how are you going to live without him liking you back?

sixteen and nineteen

Newsflash you do live without Charles liking you back. In fact your crush goes away by the end of that year, no thanks to the new boy in your grade, who eventually ends up being your boyfriend. But it was safe to say you were over Charles, at least you think you are. 

Charles, on the other hand, stayed with the girl who made you go crazy at age thirteen for over a year, but they broke up over text. And to your disappointment, Charles never told you the reason why. Ever since then it’s been somewhat of a revolving door of girls in Charles' life. Okay – maybe not a revolving door, but at least three different girls in the past two years. None of them lasted for more than a couple months though, and it was getting to the point where no one in either of your families got to know the girls.

Everyone knew that they would be gone sooner than later. After his last “breakup” a couple months ago, he hadn’t brought around a new one, he claimed that he needed to focus on racing, that F1 seat was almost in his grasp and that was all that mattered to him right now, but you knew there was something else going on. 

While Charles was having issues in the relationship department, you were actually flourishing. You had met your now boyfriend Lucas, when he was the new kid your eighth grade year. You thought he was cute from the moment he walked into your History class the first day back from winter break. And when the seat next to you was the only open desk you tried to hide your excitement as he sat down, but when he smiled at you first, it was hard to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks. He was the first to speak, asking if you had a pencil. But his accent made your ears perk up – he was Spanish. The big brown doe eyes and dark hair fit him, now that you realized he was Spanish. 

“Do all Spaniards come unprepared on their first day?” You teased as you handed him a pencil. It was his turn to be the one blushing as he stifled a smile. 

“No, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.” 

So he was a flirt – noted. 

The two of you became good friends rather quickly, but per your parents rules, you couldn’t date until you were fifteen. So, you played the long game and prayed that no one else peaked his interest. Luckily for you, he was so infatuated with you that he was willing to wait, and on your fifteenth birthday you went on your first date. He was nothing shy of a gentleman, even going as far as asking your parents permission to take you out, something your Dad was very fond of. And as your parents watched their little girl walk out the door hand in hand with a boy, they couldn’t help but feel a little sad. 

“Our little girl is growing up.” 

Your Mom wrapped a comforting arm around your Dad. “I know. I’m glad though, I figured she would waste her teenage years waiting on Charles.” 

A questioning look washed across your Dad’s face. “What?” 

“Oh honey. Don’t act like you’ve been blind these past ten years. They’ve always been drawn to each other, her more than him. She was absolutely heartbroken when he brought his first girlfriend to dinner that one time.” 

“Guess I do remember being less than thrilled at Charles getting her that ring for Christmas that one year.” Your Dad huffed. 

“Hmm,” she rests her head on his shoulder, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his abdomen as they still stand there, staring at the door. “You know Pascale has always said that Y/N would end up with Charles.” 

Your Dad scoffs at your Mom’s words. “And what do you think of that?” 

“I think only time will tell.” 

While your parents were discussing your love life back at home, you were having a grand time on your date. The pizza place Lucas had taken you to was cute, a fitting place for two fifteen year olds to be on a first date. Thankfully it wasn’t awkward or tense, and you had to thank the two of you for being friends for a year before your date for that. It was just like the two of you hanging out. 

On the walk back to your house your hands never separate, even when they start to become sweaty. And when he pulls you closer to him, so you're basically hugging his arm, you realize you could get used to this.The way his brown eyes look like pools of honey when the sun hits them just right as he looks down at you, the feeling of his thumb gently rubbing circles on your hand, and the way your name rolls of his tongue when he talks to you, especially with that accent of his. All of it has that all too familiar warm fuzzy feeling appearing in your stomach. 

When he stops in front of the ice cream shop near your house he doesn’t even have to ask you if you want any, you’re already dragging him towards the entrance. The little bell on the door rings as the two of you walk inside and the all too familiar sugary sweet smell hits your nostrils. 

“Ah! Chérie!” 

The owner Mr. Martin – a short older man, probably in his sixties, with what you would call haystacks for eyebrows was beaming at you from behind the counter. He had grown fond of you and the Leclerc boys over the years, claiming that he loved seeing the three of you grow up, as he never had any grandchildren of his own. Though, when his eyes shifted to the right and saw Lucas standing next to you his smile fell briefly, if you hadn’t been staring at him you wouldn’t have caught it. 

“Who is this handsome young man?” He asks as the two of you walk towards him.. 

You introduce Lucas to Mr. Martin and it’s at that moment that you realize that this is the first time you’ve brought him here. Something that didn’t seem possible to you because you were here so often that you had to have brought Lucas here at least once, but you can’t recall a time. 

Only when a vanilla cone is in front of your face are you brought out of your thoughts. Of course Mr. Martin didn’t need to ask you what you wanted, it’s been the same thing every time for the past ten years. Lucas had already sat down at one of the little tables, chocolate cone in hand, while he waited for you. 

“I was surprised to see you with a boy other than Charles.” Mr. Martin states as he wipes down the counter. “He must be special because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here with anyone other than your family or Charles.” 

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Yes, this was your first time you had brought Lucas here, but you know you’ve brought other friends here. There was no way in your ten years here that you hadn’t, but once again your mind was drawing a blank. As you glance back over at Lucas a knot forms in your stomach, it suddenly feels wrong to have brought him here. Like in some way you were tainting this place with his presence. Ruining whatever special hold this place has on your relationship with your family– with Charles. 

You completely ignore Mr. Martin’s statements and just give him a smile and thanks before making up an excuse as to why Lucas and you need to leave. He doesn’t take much convincing when you claim to want to see the sunset. His hand is back in yours as you hear the bell ring once more as the two of you leave. And it’s like as soon as you guys are back on the sidewalk walking towards your house, the gut wrenching feeling is gone. The only evidence of it is left in the ice cream and by the time you’re standing on your front porch step it’s all gone. 

Lucas has a lopsided grin on his face, one you’ve grown to love, as the two of you stand facing each other. “You know we are missing the sunset you wanted to see.” His fingers lightly toy with yours, before finally intertwining them again.

“Mmh. It’s okay.” You were getting lost in those big brown eyes of his, the sunset the last thing on your mind. 

“I’d rather stare at you anyways, you’re much prettier.” 

His words make you practically putty in his hands and before you know it you’re having your first kiss. It’s sweet, metaphorically and literally, the taste of ice cream still on both of your lips. His hand cups your cheek and you have to wonder if he’s done this before. But when he pulls away he only has you craving more, so you lean up and steal on more from him. Giggles escaping past your lips as you see the light blush on his cheeks, you were sure yours were bright red. “Guess this is where I ask you to be my girlfriend huh? Not like I’ve been obsessed with you since my first day of school, been waiting all year or anything.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him with a smirk on your face. “Are you going to properly ask me?” 

By the end of the night when you’re laying in bed, you had officially gone on your first date, had your first kiss, and obtained a boyfriend all in a matter of hours that day. You were a giddy mess, excitement coursed through your veins, and you couldn’t help but repeatedly feel your lips, the feeling of Lucas’ still fresh in your mind the whole night. You couldn’t wait to feel them on yours again. And when he texts you that he wants to hang out tomorrow you think your heart just might leap out of your chest. 

Being with Lucas was like living on cloud nine, you truly couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. As the year progressed you really wondered how you had snagged someone like him– tall, dark, and handsome. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, and he made you feel like it too, until he didn’t.

That’s the funny thing about first loves, you really think nothing could ever come between you, that it’s going to last forever. But the only thing that lasts forever is the damage they leave when they’re gone. 

You aren’t really sure what switched in Lucas, but after a year of being together he turned into someone who was never happy with what you did, always picking fights over stupid little things. And you know you should have left him already, but you love him, and you think you guys can make it work. You’re only sixteen and your Mom tells you relationships shouldn’t be like this at this age, shouldn’t be mentally draining, but unfortunately this one is. 

All your arguments as of lately had been about Charles. Lucas, though denying it every time you brought it up, had become jealous of him. You weren’t even sure where the jealousy had come from, you barely saw Charles like you used to. He was in F2 on the cusp of getting that F1 seat and you were busy with school and spending time with Lucas. You had even gone as far as rejecting invites to hang out with your other friends to spend time with Lucas, something now you regret very deeply. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It’s a chilly Friday night in February when everything comes crashing down. The argument started over Charles texting you asking if you wanted to hang out. You were already with Lucas, but you hadn’t seen Charles in a couple weeks and you knew once the season started seeing him would be even more scarce. So, you make the big mistake of asking Lucas if he wanted to hang out with Charles. 

“Why would I want to hang out with him?” His back was turned to you, but you already knew from his tone that this was going to turn into an argument. 

“Well I haven’t seen him in awhile and he texted me asking to hang out, I thought we all could hang out.” You thought maybe by including Lucas in the plans that it would make the situation better. Wrong. 

He turns to face you, walking towards your bed where you’re currently sat. “Did he mention me in the text?” 

“Well no but-” 

“Exactly,” Lucas scoffs at you, his expression sour as he looms over you. “He doesn’t want me to come. I would get in his way.” 

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, Charles was not the guy Lucas made him out to be. “Don’t know what you mean by you getting in his way.” 

“Oh don’t act cute about it Y/N.” Hearing your name roll off his tongue no longer sounded like music to your ears, it now more resembled nails on a chalkboard, like each time he spoke your name it was venom coming out his mouth. “Bet if I gave him the chance he’d try to get in your pants at the first opportunity.” 

Your eyes widened, cheeks getting hot at his accusations. “What kind of girl do you think I am Lucas?” 

“All I’m saying is your friendship with him isn’t normal, and it makes a guy wonder.” 

You were up off of your bed now, the two of you standing in the middle of your room. “This is getting old. I’ve told you, you have nothing to be jealous of.” You had started to twist the ring on your pinky finger, a nervous habit you had developed over the past couple years. 

“That is why your friendship isn’t normal.” Lucas grabs your hand, his fingers twisting at the ring trying to pull it off your finger. “What kind of girl wears a ring another guy got her while in a relationship? Huh? Even worse that you’ve got matching ones.”

Yanking your hand free from his grasp you can feel your blood starting to boil, and you’re thankful your parents aren’t home tonight because you can tell this is going to get ugly. “We fucking grew up together! He’s like a brother Lucas!” You were the first one to yell and you had unfortunately opened the floodgates because now Lucas is yelling.

“Who hasn’t heard that before?! He’s like a brother. Give me a fucking break. You’re telling me you’ve never had feelings for him? Not once in your life?”  

The accusations and ideas he was throwing around tonight were beyond ridiculous. 

“I’m not thirteen anymore Lucas. You know I only love you.” And you don’t realize what you’ve basically admitted until it leaves your mouth and you hear Lucas let out a dry laugh. 

“Ah. There it is. I think that last part may have been a lie, because you still wouldn’t be wearing that ring if you didn’t still feel something for him.” 

You shake your head at him, why couldn’t he get what you were saying though his thick skull. “I only have platonic love for Charles. It’s nothing like what you and I have.” 

He clicks his tongue, and you can hear the gears turning in his head. “Prove it.” You furrow your eyebrows at him, confused as to how you are supposed to prove that you love only him. “Take the ring off and give it back to Charles.” 

You tuck your hands behind your back, afraid he’ll try and rip it off your finger again. “No. It’s just a ring Lucas. You’re giving it more power than it has.” 

“If it’s just a ring then take it off.” You shake your head no at him. “Take it off Y/N.” You shake your head no again and he stalks towards you, causing you to back up until the backs of your knees hit your bed. “Take off the fucking ring!” He’s yelling and you can feel the tears starting to pool in your eyes. He’s never gotten this crazy before and you can tell that this is the end of the two of you. 

“Lucas just go.” You're trying to hold back your tears, but when he tries to reach around to grab your hand you let out a sob. “Lucas, leave! Now!” 

He backs up, and for the first time that night you get a good look at his eyes. They are no longer the pools of honey you once found yourself getting lost in, their dark, like a black void, and he almost looks unrecognizable as he stands there. “You never truly loved me did you?.” 

His words cut through you, because you really did love him, and you thought he loved you. But someone who loves you would never treat you like he has you. “I loved you more than you’ll ever know, but clearly you’ve got some shit mixed up in your head to think that I didn’t.” 

“But you are always going to love Charles more Y/N. You can tell yourself it’s only platonic love, but we both know it’s not.” 

You wipe away your tears as you sit back down on the side of your bed, this was getting old. “I can’t do this anymore. Truly. I’ve tried to tell you how much you mean to me, but Charles is a part of my life and if you can’t deal with that,” You take a deep breath, scared for what's about to come out of your mouth. “Then maybe we should break up.” 

And for the first time that night Lucas doesn’t respond and you’re actually surprised that he doesn’t put up a fight. “Alright then I guess we are done.” When he doesn’t immediately leave and decides to squat down in front of you, you're confused. Especially when he wipes away your tears as his hand cups your cheek. “I never wanted us to end up like this, but I can’t share your heart with someone else.” 

He should be screaming and instigating more arguing, not being gentle and loving. More tears fall down your cheeks as he presses a final kiss on your forehead before walking out your bedroom door. You can hear your parents greet him downstairs, what great timing for them to arrive home, and when the front door slams you’re surprised your Dad isn’t going after him. 

You’re immediately calling Charles and you don’t even have to speak, your sniffles and ragged breathing lets him know that you need him. As you hang up the phone you hear a gentle knock on your door and you see your Mom peek her head in, her heart breaking when she sees the state you’re in. “Oh my sweet girl.” 

“It’s over Mom.” You choke out between sobs. 

She does the only thing that she knows you need right now and just holds you, lets you get it all out as she runs her fingers through your hair. 

But seconds later you’re both greeted with an out of breath Charles standing in the middle of your room. Your tears subside for a moment, as you see him doubled over trying to catch his breath.

“Alright, I’m gonna leave you two be.” Your Mom gives you a reassuring kiss on the head before exiting your bedroom. 

Charles takes her spot next to you on your bed, his arm immediately pulling you into him. “Did you run here?” You ask as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Did you expect anything less when you called me crying?” He’s deadly serious when he says it, and you don’t know it, but he’d drop everything to come to your aid, no matter if you asked or not. You don’t answer him, but when you wrap your arms around his waist and basically tuck yourself into his side, he knows you appreciate him being here. “Am I wrong for thinking this has something to do with Lucas?” 

The tears start to fall again as the fight replays in your head. “We broke up.” Your words barely above a whisper, but Charles has no trouble hearing them, even over your sniffles. 

“Never liked that asshole anyways.” 

You rolled your eyes at Charles' statement, lightly laughing because he was totally lying. “Don’t lie, you liked him, hell everyone liked him.” 

“Ever thought I am just a very good actor? He made you happy, so I just pretended to like him, for your sake.” 

“Wish you would have made your dislike of him known, maybe I wouldn’t be a hot mess on a Friday night right now.” A sigh escapes past your lips, the feeling of Charles gently rubbing circles on your side had started to soothe you. And you wished you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his embrace. 

Charles doesn’t mean to pry, he knows you’ll tell him when you're ready, but he’s curious as to why the two of you had broken up, as far as he was concerned the two of you seemed happier than ever. But he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t happy about the two of you breaking up, for reasons unknown to him yet. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” 

Your grip on him tightens and he thinks if he let you, you’d be under his skin if it was possible. “He was jealous of you.” 

Charles feels his heartbeat quicken and he’s not sure why, but he does know he wants to hear the whole story. “And?” 

You know you’re going to start crying again, but it's Charles, you can tell him anything. So you take a deep breath and spill the beans. “It started a couple months ago. He’d pick fights over stupid stuff at first and then it turned into stuff concerning you. I tried to just let it go and make sure he knew he was my number one priority. But tonight’s fight was the worst one yet and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. He was basically insulating that I loved you more than him and I tried to tell him it was only platonic love that I had for you, but he wasn’t convinced.” 

There’s a strange feeling that blooms in Charles' chest as your words hit his ears and it clouds his mind because he’s never had a feeling like this when he’s been around you. It’s foreign and it scares the shit out of him.

You hold back some information from Charles, mainly because you were still processing how you really feel about him. Trying to sort through what Lucas had planted into your brain and what might have already been there, left over from thirteen year old you. But your ring clad finger searches for his and when you feel the cool contrast of his ring, you wrap your pinky fingers together. “Do you think our friendship is normal Charlie?” 

He cocks an eyebrow at you, confused as to what you meant. “Where’s this coming from?” 

Your eyes never break away from your intertwined fingers, matching rings staring back at you. “Lucas said our friendship isn’t normal and basically the fact that we have matching rings isn’t normal either.” 

Now Charles' gaze is also on your rings and for a moment he thinks maybe it isn’t normal, but then he realizes this is your guys normal. So fuck what anyone else or Lucas thought about his friendship with you. “Think he might have been just pulling shit out of his ass at that point. Jealous that he doesn’t have anyone in his life like we do each other.” 

Charles' words do make you feel a little better, because you know no matter what you’ll always have each other and tonight is proof of that, but that doesn’t stop your still broken heart from showing.

“Still kind of made me feel like shit though, like he made it seem like I didn’t love him at all, when I clearly did. I mean god Charles he was my first date, first kiss, first everything. Even with how badly he had treated me these last couple months, we’re always gonna have that connection. How am I supposed to find someone like that again? Fuck. I mean he literally has a part of me that I’ll never get back.” 

And Charles can feel his heart tightening at your words, because you’re truly the most amazing girl he knows, and to know that Lucas treated you badly when all you deserve is the best awakens something in him. 

“I wish you could see how you look to me, how amazing you are. Yes, you have those connections with Lucas, but believe me when I say you aren’t going to have a problem finding someone else.” 

A small smile finds its way onto your face as you hear Charles speak. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” 

“I wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You’re funny, kind, the best listener, and you’re so beautiful. Truly Y/N, anyone would be lucky to have you. And Lucas is clearly stupid for letting you go.” 

The blush on your cheeks probably looked like a bad sunburn with how much you were blushing and as you made eye contact with Charles you suddenly felt like that thirteen year old girl again. His blue eyes burning into yours and when he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear you can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach. And for a brief moment Charles had pushed your thoughts about Lucas to the back of your mind. 

He pulls you into a hug and if there is one place you feel the safest in the world, it’s in Charles arms. And when he whispers into your ear that everything is gonna be fine, you know it’s going to be, as long as you’ve got Charles in your life. 

seventeen and twenty 

He had done it. 

Charles had finally gotten into Formula 1. The thing he had only dreamt of since childhood had finally come true. The long weekends away from home, the training, the tiredness, the stress, it was all worth it in the end. That seat was finally his and you couldn’t have been more proud. He had been in talks with a couple of the teams for a while and he always kept you updated on the possibilities, some weeks it sounded like he would sign with one team, and then the next another. The whole situation was beyond stressful to you, so you could only imagine how Charles felt about it all. 

The day you found out that he signed with Suaber was one you’ll never forget.

Charles had tried to plan some elaborate thing to announce the big news to you, but that meant he would have to keep it a secret from you for at least a day or two. Something he found to be rather difficult once he got home, because the only thing he wanted to do was tell you. 

It didn’t matter to him that it was almost midnight by the time he had gotten home from the airport, he was going to tell you tonight no matter what. He pulled his phone out of his pocket– thumbs moving rapidly as he texted you. 

After dozing off multiple times in the last half hour you had decided to call it quits on your binge session of The Office for the night. You had switched the TV to something random to actually fall asleep to and it didn’t take long for you to be on the cusp of actual sleep until– 

DING

A groan escaped past your lips and you contemplated ignoring it, but when the second alert went off you snatched your phone off the nightstand. It felt like you were staring directly into the sun as your eyes struggled to read the text notification. 

Charlie: come out back 

Your eyes glanced at the time – 12:15. What the hell could he possibly want this late? But you begrudgingly got out of bed, slipping on some shoes and a sweatshirt before quietly going downstairs. 

The light on the back patio illuminated the backyard just enough for you to see Charles sitting on the swings waiting for you. And If you were even thinking about sneaking up on Charles that would have been impossible with the sliding door to the backyard. The thing screeched like nails on a chalkboard even with you opening it just enough to slide through it. His gaze now locked onto you as you scurried off the porch and towards the swings. 

The smile that he greeted you with was one beyond measure. He was clearly happy about something and you could tell just by the crinkles around his eyes and those dimples that right now looked to be deeper than canyons. 

“What’s got you so happy, Leclerc?” 

Your eyes focused on Charles' frame as he swayed back and forth slowly on the swing. He was clearly too big for it – his legs were bent awkwardly and his swing creaked everytime he moved. You could feel the sides of the swing digging into your hips and you realized you probably looked as ridiculous as him. 

“Just happy to see you. Missed you.” His smile still ever prominent. 

You scoffed at his words, he had just seen you a couple days ago. “Yeah right. You wouldn’t have texted me at midnight if there wasn’t something going on. In fact, how did you know I was up or even home? It’s a Friday night you know.” 

“Because I know you Y/N. Your Friday nights are usually spent at home watching some show until you can’t stay up any longer.” 

A grimace finds its way onto your face, what an amazing life you live. “Okay when you say it outloud it makes me sound like a loser.” 

His eyes had softened as the two of you made eye contact. “Nothing wrong with how you spend your Friday nights.” 

You wanted to get off the topic of your nonexistent social life and onto the pressing matter at hand tonight – what had Charles so giddy? “So are you gonna tell me what is actually going on or what?” 

He took a deep breath, he couldn’t believe he was finally getting to say these words out loud. “I’ve got a Formula 1 seat next year.” 

A blank expression is all that is staring back at Charles and he’s worried that you’re somehow mad or upset, but that’s far from the truth. You aren’t sure if you’ve heard him right, because you think you heard him say he’s going to be racing in Formula 1 next year, but your brain has seemed to have short circuited– your heart beating a mile a minute. 

You’re able to get out, “Sorry – what?!” and when you hear those words come from him once again you’re practically leaping out of the swing and into his arms. The fact that it’s nighttime and people are sleeping is the last thing on your mind as you're shouting excited nonsense at him. 

His laughter filled your ears as he stood up from the swing with you still wrapped up in his arms. You just couldn’t believe it, something he had worked so hard for, dreamt about since childhood, had finally come true. If anyone was deserving of it – it was him. 

“Putain de merde Charles! When did you sign and with who?” You asked once you had finally peeled yourself away from him and were able to form a coherent sentence. 

“Sauber – I just signed yesterday. I know it’s not Ferrari like we had hoped-” 

Your jaw dropped and you lightly smacked his arm. “Ferrari will always be there, I promise. And maybe after they see how good you do this upcoming season they’ll regret not signing you. But what I’m really wondering is why you told me you were going to do testing for one of the teams instead of telling me you were going to sign with them!” 

He put his hands up in defense, but the cheesy grin on his face still remained. “I wanted to surprise you! But then as soon as I signed that contract all I wanted to do was tell you. I literally just got home from the airport when I texted you!” 

The fact that Charles wanted you to be the first person he told had you melting and the butterflies in your stomach had you thinking about those unresolved feelings you had towards him. But you pushed it aside because tonight was not the night for that to be lingering in your mind. 

You reached down to his hand and linked your pinky fingers together. The gesture no longer just meant for a promise, but also one of comfort and reassurance. “I do hope you know though how immensely proud I am of you. How proud your Papa would be of you. I knew from that first time you ever mentioned something about becoming a F1 driver when we were kids that you would accomplish it and now look at you.” 

Charles' eyes soften at your words and when he looks into your eyes he feels that funny foreign feeling. The one that blooms in his chest and travels down to his stomach, the same feeling from last year when he held you after Lucas broke your heart. The feeling he chooses to ignore as he pulls you back into his arms, hugging you tightly, like someone might take you from him. He knows his life wouldn’t be the same without you and that he owes some of this success to you– for constantly believing in him even when he didn’t, for dreaming with him, and for being the light on even his darkest days. 

“And I hope you know that I wouldn’t have made it without you. You’ve been my biggest supporter since we were kids, always believing in me, pushing me, coming to support me when you could, and I can’t imagine you not being at my first race.” 

“Oh do you not remember what I said when we were younger? Think I said I’d have a permanent paddock pass, so you bet your ass I’m gonna be there.” 

A small laugh escapes past his lips and his dimples are back out in full force for what seems like the millionth time tonight. “Truly Y/N. Merci, I couldn’t have done it without you. Je t'aime.” 

“Je t'aime aussi Charlie.” 

His pinky finger finds yours once again and when he curls his finger around yours a wave of deja vu washes over you. And that’s when you remembered the last time the two were out here together. You were still kids, but you had made him promise not to forget you once he got into Formula 1. 

Now here the two of you stood, high on the exciting news of him achieving that goal. You can’t help that pit that starts to form in your stomach as you think of what you feared at age ten coming true. You try to hide it, not wanting to dampen the mood, and you know all you can do is pray that he keeps his promise. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

That following March you make the trip to Australia with the Leclerc’s and your family and it’s everything you could have ever dreamed of. Sure you had attended the Monaco Grand Prix every year, and some of Charles F2 races, but you had never been really in the thick of it like this. Maybe it was because it was Charles' first ever F1 race, but the feeling in the air was indescribable. The roar of the engines, the cheers from the crowd, it was something you could get used to experiencing. 

It’s surreal to see him in the car, see him flying around the circuit like it’s nothing, because all you can imagine is eight year old Charles saying he wants to be an F1 driver when he grows up in that car. He ends up placing P13 and for his first ever F1 race you couldn't have been more proud. And you aren’t afraid to admit that you shed a few tears, honestly you think everyone shed a few tears seeing him finally accomplish that lifetime dream of his. 

When you see him after the race he’s beaming like he’d won the thing and you could only imagine what he will be like when he actually wins his first race. You can practically feel the adrenaline radiating off of him when he wraps you up in his embrace. 

“You did so good Charles. You did it, you made it.” Your words slightly mumbled against his shoulder, but he hears you just fine. 

“I’m glad you were able to come. Wouldn’t have been as special if you didn’t.” You don’t think he’s wiped that smile off his face ever since he got out of the car and it only intensified as he spoke to you. 

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” And it’s true because there’s no other place you’d want to be right now. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The next time you see him is for the Monaco Grand Prix and he’s nearly shitting himself the whole week before. You would have thought this was his first ever time in a F1 car with how nervous he was. He knows these streets like the back of his hand, knows this circuit like the back of his hand, but he still spends an unnecessary amount of time on the sim, trying to perfect every little thing. 

With what little amount of time you see him between practice sessions and qualifying before the actual race you try and reassure him, let him know that he’s still an amazing person and driver no matter the outcome on Sunday. And it seems to have worked because by Sunday his spirits seem to be much higher and he’s got a good feeling about the race, hoping to score some points, and maybe win his home race. 

But when his brakes fail and he ends up crashing into the back of another car resulting in a DNF you’re heartbroken, but you know he’s even more upset. You know he’s going to be so hard on himself and overanalyze the whole situation, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to try and make things a little better. 

When you find him he’s pacing back and forth in what little space he has in his drivers room. Helmet still strapped onto his head and his race suit still done up. You spot one of his gloves on the physio table and the other on the ground — evidence that he had thrown them. He’s so in his head that he doesn’t even see you standing in the doorway as he paces. 

“Charlie.” Your voice is soft and you hope by using his nickname that it may calm him a little. 

His movements stop when he hears your voice and when he finally sees you standing there in the doorway all he wants to do is crawl into a hole and die. What an embarrassment to have his first DNF at his first home race. It’s like the gods wanted to punish him for reasons unbestowed to him. 

Your reflection stares back at you through his visor as you approach him, his shoulders relaxing slightly as your hands find their home on them. You finally work up the courage to flip up his visor so you can actually look at him and when you see red puffy eyes staring back at you your heart breaks a little more. 

“Let’s get this helmet off, yeah?” 

With a small nod given from him as permission you reach your hands up to undo the strap. You’re trying to be delicate with your actions, but when it comes to taking off his helmet there really isn’t a way to be nice about it. And Charles knows because he’s got his hands over yours, aiding you in taking it off. 

You couldn’t help but stare at him as he practically tore off his balaclava and threw it haphazardly somewhere in the room. As silly as it seemed, the indentions that it left behind on his face somehow made him more attractive. Combine that with his hair being a tousled mess and his skin glistening from the sweat (and tears) and post race Charles may be your favorite Charles. You watched even more intently as he unzipped his race suit, letting the upper half fall at his hips, exposing the tight fireproofs that you loved more than you should. 

Those unresolved feelings that you’ve tried to shove deep down for years had seemed to be crawling their way back up recently. But for today you pushed them back down because you were here to comfort Charles, not ogle at him, no matter how good he looked at the moment. 

He sat down on his physio table with a defeated sigh, hand running through his already messy hair. “I’ve let everyone down – the team, my family, myself, you. Maybe if I wouldn’t have braked too hard at turn seven or didn’t push as hard in the tunnel-” 

You moved to stand in between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders. He was on the edge of spiraling and you knew if you didn’t take him back from that ledge he’d be in his head about it for weeks. 

“Charles. There was nothing that you could have done differently, it was an issue with the car. Which means it had nothing to do with you as a person, as a driver, or your talent.” Your hand subconsciously searches for his, and like it’s muscle memory your pinkies link seconds later. “I promise.” 

“A ‘once in a generation driver’ would have avoided crashing.” 

Ugh. The phrases that the media used to describe Charles were – yes very flattering, but they came at a price. He took them personally and the idea of being anything less than what they claimed him to be took a serious mental toll on him. 

“You had no brakes Charles. What were you supposed to do? Bust your feet through the floor and Fred Flintstone it?” You could see the corners of his mouth turn up slightly at your comment and you knew he was backing away from the edge. His hands find their way around your waist and he’s pulling you into him, your head finding a home on his shoulder. 

“I’m still immensely proud of you. Hell, you could finish dead last in every race and I’d still be your number one fan.” This time there is an actual smile that washes across Charles face, but you don’t get to see it, your head is still resting on his shoulder. “ And I know it’s easier said than done, but please try not to be so hard on yourself, especially when it comes to things out of your control.” 

“What would I do without you?” It’s a serious question that Charles asks himself often. You’ve been each other's rocks for twelve years now. Through the amazing times and the horrible times. No one knows either of you like you do each other. 

You’ve pulled away from his embrace now, your eyes staring back at his. “Hmmm. I don’t know. You’d probably be absolutely miserable without me.” 

And when you finally see that pretty smile of his, dimples and all, you know you’ve accomplished your mission. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Although after Monaco– things changed. 

The first thing and probably the most inevitable was Charles moving out. Honestly, you were surprised he hadn’t done it sooner, but in between the Monaco GP and Canadian GP he moved into his own place. Which in theory wasn’t a big deal, but that meant he wasn’t just right down the street from you anymore. He had gotten an apartment further into the city, which in Monaco that’s not that far, but you knew it would make a difference. 

The days of popping into his house and expecting him to be there were long gone. The whole thing really shouldn’t have been such a big deal to you, but you couldn’t help but think that him moving out was only going to aid in your worries of him forgetting about you to come true. 

After Monaco your communication with Charles started to slowly lessen.Texts that once were answered in minutes now went hours without an answer or sometimes no response at all. You blamed it on his busy schedule, trying not to think too much about it. But much to your dismay, your worries do come true. 

It’s inevitable to you that you are drifting apart when you realize it’s been three months since you’ve seen him, almost a month since you’ve talked to him. And when you see him make it official with some girl you hadn’t even heard mention of after the British GP you feel like it’s just another nail in the coffin. 

You don’t even make the effort to reach out anymore, in fact you make sure not to after seeing that he’s got a new girlfriend. You’d just be wasting your time and energy. And it may seem like you're giving up on keeping Charles in your life, but really what else could you do? It truly hurts like hell to see the person you care about the most not seem to care about you, but you can’t force someone to talk to you or see you. 

He’s living his dream, traveling the world, partying, surrounded by stunning women. You’re still in school, still only seventeen, and not sure what you want your life to look like. It was inevitable really, for the two of you to drift apart, but that little part of you that ten year old you still holds on to, hopes that Charles remembers that promise he made and eventually comes to his senses. Because you know and you know he knows that you two are always going to have that special bond, the ring on your finger a constant reminder of it. And you wonder if he still wears his, but you don’t hold on to much hope that he does. 

Even though Charles and you aren’t exactly the closest at the moment you do want to try and attend another race before you start your final year of school and are forced to give that all of your attention. So when Arthur texts you asking if you want to go to Monza with Pascale and him you don’t pass up the opportunity.

Arthur filled you in on stuff regarding Charles during the flight, not that you asked, but he knew the two of you hadn’t really been talking. And you don’t mean to ask about his girlfriend, but you do, and you can see Arthur tip-toeing around his words. “She’s… nice. I’ve only met her once so I really couldn’t tell you much. You haven’t met her yet though, right?” 

You shook your head at him. “I haven’t even seen Charles since the home race. So no, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her.” 

“Merde. I didn’t think it had been that long.” 

What Arthur doesn’t tell you is that Charles doesn’t know their Mom and him are coming, not to mention you. You only figure it out when Arthur says something about making sure Charles doesn’t know to the Sauber team member who gives him three VIP passes. Arthur claims you guys are here to surprise Charles, give him a little pick me up after his last two races were DNF’s. 

The idea of seeing Charles again after so long already had your stomach in knots, but now knowing he doesn’t even know you’re coming makes it even worse. You were under the impression that he knew you were tagging along with Arthur. And everyone knows Charles is horrible at hiding his emotions, what if he sees you and can’t hide the fact that he doesn’t want you here? A million possibilities ran through your brain as Arthur dragged you towards the Sauber garage, while Pascale went to hospitality. 

Qualifying had just started and you were thankful for the extra time to mentally prepare yourself to see Charles again. With the way you were acting you would have thought you hadn’t seen him in years, but truthfully these three months had felt like years. 

The roar of engines were slightly muffled as you put on a headset, eyes focused on the monitor in front of you. Even with your nerves through the roof, it felt good to be back at a race. The atmosphere was intoxicating, you loved the hustle and bustle of it all, the adrenaline you got from just being here was crazy. 

You were so engrossed in watching Charles that you didn’t even notice someone come up behind Arthur and you until you felt him tap your shoulder. When you turn around the person standing there is the last person you expected to be seeing.  

Leah— Charles' girlfriend.  

Her lips are moving, but you aren’t hearing a word, and that’s when you realize you’ve still got your headset on. You quickly pull them down around your neck just in time to hear her say. “You must be Y/N?” You're shocked she knows who you are and from the look on your face she knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Charles has mentioned you before. It’s nice to finally meet you!” 

It’s sad to say that you had a hard time believing that Charles talked about you to her, but you put on a fake smile and accepted her invitation for a hug. “It’s nice to meet you too!” While Arthur and her spoke you tried to get a good read on her, but it was hard to tell if she was naturally this friendly or if it was all just an act. 

Time slipped away as the three of you chatted and you hadn’t realized Q1 was over and that Charles hadn’t made it into Q2 until you saw Leah’s eyes widened at something behind you. That something turned out to be someone and that someone turned out to be Charles. Leah’s practically hanging off of him while she’s trying to take a million photos and videos. And that’s when you know why Arthur tiptoed around his words about her earlier. Yes she was ‘nice’, but she was clearly using Charles for her own benefit. 

Charles on the other hand was oblivious to Leah shoving her phone in his face. His vision had zeroed in on you from the moment he entered the garage, even with your back turned to him he could spot you in a crowd of hundreds. When you finally turned around he felt like his feet had been cemented to the ground. His body felt hot, like a fever was running through his veins, and it wasn’t from being in the car moments ago. 

Arthur wasn’t supposed to be here and you weren’t either– especially talking to his girlfriend. It throws him for a loop and he can’t seem to get his brain and mouth to work together to even greet you, so he stands there while Leah makes sure everyone knows she’s dating a Formula 1 driver. 

The tight lipped smile you throw his direction doesn’t help how he’s feeling. You should be beaming at him, in his personal space (preferably in his arms), laughing at something dumb he said, anything other than how you were right now. And he knows it's no fault but his own, but it still hurts to see you stand there and act like you don’t like him, like you haven’t known each other for twelve years.

Charles could blame his absence in your life on his career, but that wasn’t the whole truth. 

He had seen your texts and truthfully sometimes he was so busy that he would forget to text you back. But those times when he could give you his full attention over text or the occasional facetime were times he never took for granted. He loved hearing your laughter, seeing your smile, or even just having you send him a text about your day. But with those things he loved so dearly came that funny feeling in his chest. 

The same feeling that he first felt last year when Lucas broke up with you, the night he told you he made it into F1, at his home race, and sprinkled in occasionally at other times. He had realized what it was not too long after the Monaco GP and at first he denied it, he thought there was no way it was possible. But then when that feeling would happen just from getting a text from you he knew he was fucked. He wasn’t even going to say the word out loud, not even think it, afraid of what might come if he even allowed the universe the satisfaction of him accepting what he was feeling. You were supposed to be his best friend and not someone he had feelings for. 

So what did he do to combat this insane revelation he had found out about himself? 

Distance himself. 

If he wasn’t in contact with you or seeing you, then surely this silly little thing, that he once again would not acknowledge by its government name, would go away. Plus his ever so busy career was the perfect excuse for him to use in case his Mother or you questioned him. 

And at first it wasn’t hard at all, he had gradually weaned himself off from facetiming you and then texting. And it wasn’t that bad because he had racing and training and media duties and parties– all the stuff that his life involved now to distract him. But then your texts became less and less and then on one off week he realized just how badly he missed having your stupid contact photo pop up on his phone and how he may have fucked everything up. 

But then he met Leah through another driver’s girlfriend and he had her to distract him even more. He knew what kind of person she was from the get go, but he was basically using her too, so if she wanted to make her whole instagram about him then so be it as long as his brain was free of that thing that must not be named about you. And Leah worked for awhile, she was relatively nice and it helped that she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. 

There was no real connection between them and sometimes Charles would rather watch paint dry than have a conversation with her. And most of the time he just let her sit there and talk while he scrolled on his phone, trying not to act like his heart didn’t skip a beat when a post of yours would pop up on Instagram. 

He wanted to contact you so badly, but what was he supposed to say? Hey, I've been so busy that I haven't even picked up my phone to text you hi. 

He knew he had caused some damage to your relationship when his Mom asked why he wasn’t coming home to see you anymore and that you weren’t yourself. He feels like shit about it, the idea of him making you upset is practically nightmare fuel for Charles and he doesn’t know why he thought distancing himself would make things better, they had just made things worse. Made him miss you even more without even realizing it. 

Clearly Charles had never heard the saying distance makes the heart grow fonder because if he had then maybe he wouldn’t have been stood there like a fool in the Sauber garage right now. Heart racing faster than the car he just got out of at the sight of you standing here in front of him for the first time in three months. 

What the hell was happening to him? What was this sudden effect you had on him? Had it always been there and he hadn’t realized it until now? He couldn’t think straight – it was clearly not a good idea to have tried to ignore these realizations (feelings) he had about you. A bad idea to not see you for months because now that you are here everything is rushing back up to the surface 10x worse than before. 

“Long time no see stranger.” Your voice brings him back to reality, but your closer proximity has him searching for an out. His head glancing in every direction for someone– his race engineer, one of the mechanics, Leah, anybody to distract him from you. 

When his search comes up short he resorts to making his stomach hurt even more by talking to you. 

“Yeah. How have you been?” God. Did he not even know how to talk to you anymore? Small talk with someone you know better than yourself had to be a torture method used by government agencies. 

“I’ve been good.” Lie, but he didn’t need to know that. “I see you’ve been living it up since I saw you last.” 

You were expecting a little awkwardness between the two of you, but the way Charles was acting was insane, it was like it was your first time meeting or something. He couldn’t maintain eye contact to save his life and honestly looked like he’d rather be someplace else at the moment. Your fear of him not wanting you here was clearly not a silly worry, it was reality. 

“Um yeah. Always busy doing something recently.” 

You’ve been fidgeting with the ring on your pinky finger the whole time and your movements catch Charles' gaze. His eyes immediately locking in on the silver ring still shining on your finger. He’s surprised after the way he’s treated you these past couple months that you still have it on, but yet here you stood in front of him with it on, a sign to Charles that he did not deserve you one bit. 

When he sees you realize that he’s staring at your ring and then sees your eyes shift to his naked finger his heart rate quickens once again. His stomach feels like it's about ready to drop out of his ass at the sight of hurt on your face that’s then quickly replaced by a blank stare. He can’t get his words out fast enough, he’s chewing on his words, mouth drier than the Sahara desert. 

“I-um-It’s in my-” 

“It’s fine Charles, really. We’re not little kids anymore. I shouldn’t be holding on to silly childhood promises.” It wasn’t fine, it was far from fine. You’re blinking back tears, your words referencing everything but the ring. But it’s a combination of everything that’s got you upset. The two of you drifting apart, the broken childhood promises, wanting to hate him right now but still being so proud to see him out there doing what he loves, and that damn ring. 

You felt stupid for still having it on, for thinking that he would still have his on. You needed to start being more realistic, but you were still only seventeen. An age that held so much fun and whimsy, you should be out having fun with your friends, not getting upset over a guy who clearly didn’t feel the same about you. The two of you were always going to be at two different times in your lives, it was never going to work out, but fuck there is always going to be apart of you that still holds onto him. He’s got his fingers dug so deep into you that you think you'll be old and gray and still wonder what could have been. 

Each word you spoke felt like a stab to Charles' heart. He wanted to tell you that he still wears his ring. That it’s sitting on its designated spot in his driver's room. But once again he can’t get his words out fast enough, his brain still hung up on your words for some reason. He’s hoping you would realize that the reason he doesn’t have it on was because he had just been in qualifying, but when he sees you slide your ring off and toss it in your bag those stabs to the heart intensify. He feels like he’s losing everything right in front of him, but he can’t seem to get his mind and body to work together to stop it. 

He feels an arm wrap around his and he knows it's Leah. Where was she moments ago when he was looking for an out? Maybe this situation could have been avoided and Charles wouldn’t feel like he had just lost the one person in his life who truly cared about him. 

“Good luck tomorrow Charles.” 

You don’t feel like sticking around any longer, especially if you have to look at Charles and Leah. You let Arthur know you're gonna go find Pascale, but you don’t leave without taking one last glance at Charles. 

It’s a long evening with Arthur’s prying questions about what's going on between his brother and you. All you can do is shrug your shoulders because really you don’t actually know what happened yourself, you assumed you drifted apart, but was there something else that happened that you didn’t know about? 

The next day you decide to watch the race from Sauber’s hospitality with Pascale, hoping to get away from Arthur’s never ending questions and Leah’s presence in general. Pascale luckily hadn’t pressed you on the Charles matter, but she’s practically your second Mother and she knows too that there’s something going on between Charles and you, she’s known from the beginning.

Charles ended up placing eleventh, which is miles better than his last two races, which were DNFs. Though you don’t even bother to go to the garage with Pascale, opting to stay in hospitality until it’s time to leave. It may have been petty of you, but you really weren’t in the mood to see Charles again and from his behavior yesterday he clearly doesn’t care that you're not there. 

But that was far from the truth. In fact Charles was praying that you would show up in the garage this morning, but when Arthur shows up solo he can’t hide the frown that forms on his face. The praying then moves onto seeing you post race, but that is quickly diminished when his Mother shows up without you in tow either. 

Your words from yesterday hung heavy in Charles' mind all last night. I shouldn’t be holding onto silly childhood promises bothered him more than it should have. And he wracked his brain trying to figure out what you could have been referencing. It wasn’t until he was almost asleep that he remembered a certain promise that the two of you made at ten and thirteen. Sleep was the last thing on his mind as he laid there wide awake staring at the ceiling recalling the memory in his mind.

He was such a fucking asshole. He’d done the one thing you promised him not to do. Granted he never really forgot about you, you were still clearly on his mind these past three months, but to you it really did seem like he had forgotten about you. Like he had gone off and became this famous race car driver that couldn’t be bothered to text his childhood best friend.

God he had fucked up, like truly fucked up, and all he wanted to do was explain himself (without revealing you know what), apologize, and try and get back to the way things used to be. That though, was proving to be easier said than done when you wouldn’t even come around. And by the time he’s done with his post race duties you’re back at the hotel ready to head back home. Charles doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance to redeem himself and you're left wondering why you even agreed to come in the first place. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A week later you're at home sitting on your bed, face shoved into a math textbook trying to figure out some formula when your phone rings. Charles' contact photo pops up on your phone and you contemplate not answering it. You haven’t had any contact with him since Monza so you wonder why he’s decided to call you of all things on a random Monday. But against your better judgment you press answer and put it on speaker before tossing it back down on your bed. 

“Bonjour?” 

There’s muffled sounds in the background, but Charles hasn’t spoken a word, and you wonder if he accidentally butt dialed you. 

“Y/N.” His voice finally echos through the speaker and you hate the way your heart flutters at the sound of your name rolling off his tongue. 

Charles had been working himself up to call you for hours, his finger hovering over your contact too many times to count. He thinks he may have blacked out a little when he finally pressed his thumb down on the screen and then heard your sweet voice, hence his delayed response. Today was his last chance to tell you the big news he'd hoped to tell you last week in Monza, but that clearly didn’t work out. 

The big news in question? Him finally signing with Ferrari. 

The team that he had dreamt of driving for once he got into F1 had finally given him a chance. It was not only his dream, but his Father’s dream for Charles too. Many weekends with his Father spent at race tracks had all led up to him getting that initial seat this year and then finally getting that Ferrari seat for next year, he only wished his Father could be here to witness it. Charles couldn’t have been more happy to finally accomplish that dream not only for himself, but also his Father. 

The other person who knew about how badly he wanted to be sporting that Ferrari red and supported him in finally reaching that goal was you. And to Charles it didn’t matter if you guys perhaps weren’t exactly on the best of terms right now, he wanted you to be the first person he told, just like last year when he got into F1. He sure as hell didn’t want you to find out from the press release, so here he was telling you over the phone. 

“Oui?”

“I’ve done it. I’m driving for Ferrari next year.” It feels good to say it outloud, especially to you because you know just how much it means to him. 

There’s silence from your end for some time and Charles checks to make sure you hadn’t hung up on him, but the call time is still going. He’s about ready to say your name when he hears sniffles echo through the speaker.

“Are you crying?” He’s worried he’s somehow done something once again to make you upset. 

You are in fact crying, as much as you hate it. It’s a mixture of happy and sad tears that you're desperately trying to wipe away like he can see you. Happy tears for him finally signing with Ferrari, a goal that you knew he would accomplish with no issue. Sad tears because you wished he was here telling you in person, wished that things were like they used to be, wished that you never developed feelings for him, and wished that whatever that situation was in Monza last week had never happened. 

“I’m just really happy for you Charlie.” His heart skipped a beat hearing you call him Charlie, it had been too long since you’d graced him with that nickname for his liking. “I told you Ferrari would see what they had missed out on and come running.” 

A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled that night on the swings when he told you about him getting into F1. “I wanted you to be the first person to know.” You can’t ignore the butterflies that form in your stomach at the thought of him thinking about you, wanting you to be the first to know, but you’re still crying, your emotions all over the place. 

When silence fills the line and he still hears your sniffles, he knows it’s not just happy tears you’re crying. It was time to face the elephant over the phone. 

“Listen I know things have been weird between us these past couple months and,” He paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “I know it’s my fault. I broke that promise I made you and I hate myself for it everyday.” The idea of him distancing himself from you was the dumbest idea he’s ever had. He wasn’t better off without you, he was better with you. His feelings towards you aside, he’d rather die than not have you in his life. 

“I got so caught up in this new lifestyle and I lost myself for a while.” Maybe he shouldn’t be lying to you, but he wasn’t about ready to admit you know what. He’d already fucked up enough, he didn’t need to go spilling his guts and fuck everything up even more.

“And then in Monza I was shocked to see you there and I felt like an ass for forgetting about you and I was trying to figure out what to say, but you were clearly upset and it was honestly just a mess.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Basically what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for being a dick and that I really miss you.” 

His thumb toyed with the ring on his finger as he waited for your response  and he remembered you still didn’t know he still wore his. “I also still wear my ring. I just hadn’t gotten the chance to put it back on after qualifying last week.” His gaze never broke from the ring as he spoke. “I don’t like that you think I would ever stop wearing it. Gonna wear it till the grave Y/N.” 

His last sentence was mumbled, but you heard him loud and clear. Your gaze shifted towards your dresser where the silver ring had sat for the past week. Perhaps you had jumped the gun with your actions last week, you knew he had to take off his jewelry when he got into the car, but in the moment your emotions were telling you otherwise. “You made me feel like shit Charles. It’s a horrible feeling to see someone exiting your life in real time and knowing you really can’t do anything about it.” 

“I know and I’m so sorry.” He runs his hand through his hair in frustration, and he thinks he’s done it so many times that he might have a bald spot by morning. 

You feel like you’re forgiving him too easily, but you’ve missed him so much. And to hear him finally admit that he fucked up and say that he missed you too has you unfortunately very easily swayed. He’s been in your life for so long it’s felt like a piece of you was missing these past couple months without having contact with him. So, you forgive him, because you love him.

“I want things to go back to normal, like before.” You’re standing in front of your dresser now, ring rolling between your fingers. 

“They will.” He glanced back down at his ring. “I promise.” 

“You promise?” You asked as you slid the ring back on your finger, a missing part of now you back in its rightful place. 

“I promise.” 

twenty two and twenty five

Over the past four years Charles and you had matured significantly. 

You had graduated and landed a job that you loved at home in Monaco. It required you to travel a lot, which you loved, but also came with amazing off time and flexible hours. A perk you were beyond grateful for because that meant you could attend the majority of Charles races. You had also gotten your own place, a cute little apartment, and was truly embracing adulthood. 

When it came to the love department though– Charles was still there.

Over the four years you had your share of talking stages and two boyfriends who both only lasted a couple months. Your hectic work schedule didn’t help matters, but neither did your feelings towards Charles that you’ve been harboring for the past eight years. You really would have thought you’d have gotten over those, figured it was a thing of adolescents, but your twenties came and the feelings never went. It wasn’t as bad as when you were younger, you learned to handle yourself better and your job keeping you busy helped that. The two of you were at a good place in your relationship and you came to terms that unless you were a big girl and confessed your feelings to him, then you were just going to have to live with him at arms distance. 

Like you when it came to romantic relationships–  you were still Charles number one, as much as he tried to make it work with other girls, they just weren’t you. He had thought multiple times over the years that he was going to tell you how he felt, but you were either talking to someone or had a boyfriend, the timing never right. So he learned, like you, to live with his feelings towards you. A thing that was necessary if he didn’t want a repeat of what happened when he tried to distance himself from you.

So here the two of you were– adults who were completely oblivious to how either of you felt about each other for years, hopelessly pining over each other. 

Charles' career on the other hand was more of a success story than his love life. In the past four years he had accomplished his Maiden win in Belgium during his first year with Ferrari and then his second the next week in Italy. Then went on to win three more races during this year's season. 

A season with three wins may sound like a great accomplishment, but the thing was that he should have had more than three. To say that Charles' fourth season with Ferrari was stressful was an understatement for the ages. He had never been more happy for winter break to arrive than he was this year. He had started the season out on a high by winning the first race of the season, but life somehow had a way of humbling him. 

Horrible strategy calls from the team, bad pit stops, and car troubles had cost Charles his chance at the championship. It seemed like for every high he had– five lows followed. So needless to say when he saw the checkered flag at Abu Dhabi he was somewhat relieved that the season was over and perhaps making the podium may have lifted his spirits a little too. 

But that relief was short lived, because in true Charles fashion, he can’t get out of his head about the what ifs from the season. He had wanted to just let it go, leave it behind him and look forward to this time off and the new season ahead. But all his brain wanted to think about was maybe if we would have gone with softs instead of hards or pitted one lap earlier or managed his tires better then maybe he would have been still coming down from the high of winning the championship right now instead of sulking about. 

He’d been a little distant since break started and you knew he was probably in his head about everything. So when a text pops up on your phone from him late one evening telling you to meet him at the harbor you don’t even think twice about telling him you’ll be there in ten. If you had to guess what he had planned, you’d bet all your money on taking his yacht out to look at the stars. It was something the two of you had done for a couple years now, but it was usually over summer break, not the week before Christmas. But for Charles you would do anything, even brave going out on the water, at night, during the winter. 

When Charles see’s you walk up to his slip on the dock wearing what looks to be the coziest outfit and holding his favorite blanket from your apartment he thinks his heart is about ready to explode. “You’re lucky I love you Charles. It’s gonna be so cold out on the water.” 

I love you. The words echo in his mind as he helps you into the boat. It’s nothing new for you two to say it to each other, and he’s under the impression you’re saying it platonically, but god does it sound so heavenly to hear those three little words come out of your mouth and be directed towards him. 

“I’m the luckiest man alive.” He’s referring to you and that glimmer in his eye would tell anyone that he was, but you don’t see it, you’re too busy getting situated in your designated spot next to the captain's seat. 

Once he’s got the boat a good enough distance out into the water he deploys the anchor and you make your way out to the loungers on the deck. You push two of them together, making a big enough space for both you and Charles to relax. 

You’re already cozied up with the blanket by the time he makes his way over to you, but he doesn’t even have to ask, you’re already pulling back the blanket for him to slide under. 

He lets out a sigh once he gets comfortable beside you. “I needed this.” 

A hum in agreement comes from you as you scoot a little closer to Charles, a gust of cold wind blowing through the air. 

“There’s the big dipper.” Charles points his finger up to the sky, your eyes following where he’s pointing to. The two of you take turns pointing out what you think are constellations, but are undoubtedly random stars in made up shapes, but it doesn’t matter to either of you. 

The gentle lull of the waves crashing against the boat fills the silence that falls between the two of you once you’ve run out of things to point out. And you’ve somehow ended up cuddled into Charles' side, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. You couldn’t help it, he’s always been a walking furnace, and when the opportunity presents itself to be in his arms you were gonna take it. 

It was something that was happening more and more with you two recently– pushing the envelope per say on what your friendship entailed. Cuddling, staying the night at each other's apartments, hands lingering a little too long after a hug were all normal things for friends to do– right?  Friends who somehow while doing these things couldn’t tell that the other person felt the same as they did. 

Love may be blind, but in Charles and your’s case, you were blind to love. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been out here, but you think you could spend eternity out here with him. The feeling of comfort, safety, and the feeling of home that he brings you when he’s around is something you don’t think you can ever live without again. He’s your person and you hope you're his, no matter what the future for the two of you entails. 

The feeling of his fingers ghosting across your arm and down towards your hand tells you he’s searching for one thing and when his pinky finger links with yours you know he’s got something on his pretty little mind. 

“You wanna talk about it?” You whisper, your head still resting on his solid chest.

He doesn’t respond for a while and you think he perhaps didn’t hear you, but then he speaks and it sounds like blasphemy coming out of his mouth. 

“What if I quit?” 

Your body freezes at his words and you’re hoping he’s not meaning what you think, but when you lift your head to see nothing close to a joking manner on his face you know this is about to get serious. 

“I’d think you’d be miserable. You love racing, you were born to do it, it’s in your blood Charles. All the hard work you’ve put in from a literal child to now–” You shake your head, not even wanting to think about him quitting racing. “Don’t be stupid and throw it all away. You’re just only getting started.” 

A deep sigh comes from him, his eyes fixated on your now intertwined hands as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “I’m not going to, but there were so many times this past season that I thought about it. I know that’s crazy to say after I won three times, but god the lows of racing truly are lows. I’d have a good weekend and then have literally a weekend from hell the next race week. It’s just a lot– mentally. Trying to live up to everyone’s expectations, the teams, the fans, the media, and my own is like a mental prison sometimes.” 

You had sat up at this point, and almost like a small child Charles had clung to you, his head in your lap as you gently ran your fingers through hair. You knew he had a rough season, but you didn’t think it had taken this much of a toll on him. 

“And you’re right. I love racing and I’d be miserable without it, but sometimes I’m miserable with it.” 

The frown that had formed on your face moments ago had deepened at his confession. “I didn’t know the season had affected you this much Charles. Wish you would have talked to me sooner about it.” 

“Sorry.” He mumbles. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for Charlie, you’re allowed to feel how you feel. And I know you probably get sick of hearing me say it, but I’m still so immensely proud of you. Like I’ve said before, you could finish dead last in every race and I’d still be proud. I know this season was a rough one at times, but you won three times and were on the podium eleven times. That’s still something to be proud of. So for every time you're miserable because of racing, think about me telling you repeatedly how proud I am of you and maybe you’ll just be miserable because of me instead.” 

You see the corners of his mouth move up and you know you’ve gotten a little smile out of him. “That’s funny that you think me hearing you say that you’re proud of me would make me miserable. It actually has the opposite effect, so your plan may work, but it would result in me being happier instead of more miserable, which is what I think we want to accomplish right?” 

“Yes, I love happy Charlie, but I still love miserable Charlie too.” 

He’s sat up, the two of you sitting face to face now, and you aren’t sure if it's the cool breeze or him staring at you that makes a shiver run up your spine. “That’s good to know.” 

He’s still staring at you and even with only the moon as your source of light, those pretty blue eyes of his are as bright as ever, and staring into your soul. And for a split second you think he’s leaning in and you think this might be the moment he’s gonna kiss you, the moment you’ve been waiting for since you were thirteen. But you’re completely wrong, he’s only reaching for the blanket as he leans back onto the lounger once more. 

“Merci Y/N, truly. For always being here for me, especially for tonight. It was nice to finally get that off my chest. Je t’aime.’ 

You claim your spot back next to Charles and you don’t even second guess yourself when you lay your head back on his chest. “Je t’aime aussi Charlie.” 

Charles, while he can’t complain about having you in his arms and your head on his chest. He can kick himself for that moment mere seconds ago. He was finally going to do it, it was the perfect time, but he chickened out and reached for the blanket instead of using that hand to cup your cheek. He could drive a race car at 230 mph, but couldn’t work up the courage to kiss the girl he was in love with. Maybe he’d find the courage sometime in the next four years. But for now he could live with having you cuddled up against him and knowing that even if it may be platonic, you love him too. 

twenty three and twenty six 

The Monaco Grand Prix. 

An world renowned event. A pinnacle for motorsports. People from all around the world come to the tiny principality every year to watch twenty of the world's best drivers race around the streets of Monaco. 

As a child you watched the grandstands go up every year and you dreamed of getting to watch Charles race those very same streets that you took to school. The two of you as kids watching from the crowd, not knowing that some of those drivers Charles would drive alongside one day, even being teammates with some of them. Charles could only hope that one day that would be him on that top step, hearing his own national anthem play at his home race.  

That one day had yet to happen after six seasons in F1. After three DNF’s, horrible strategy, and two lost pole positions– Charles really didn’t think winning his home race was ever going to happen. He had started to believe the “Monaco curse” more and more year after year. 

You on the other hand didn’t believe that the curse existed. You did believe that the idea of one had made Charles be more in his head when the race came around every year, and in a sense perhaps making him not perform the best at times. But no, you didn’t believe in the Monaco curse.

Every year you had hoped he would win and sadly when he didn’t you were there to pick up the pieces. You knew his time would come and granted you didn’t think it would take this long. But the universe works in mysterious ways, there’s a reason for everything, and you knew there was a reason Charles hadn’t won yet. 

And as this year's grand prix rolled around you hoped that this time the universe was ready to give him what he deserved. 

You did have a good feeling about the race this year, or at least a better feeling than prior years. It was mainly because Charles had been so– carefree these past couple days. He’s usually already thinking about Monaco at the race the week before and the nerves have set in come media day, but this year he’s different. 

He’s excited of course, to be at home for the week and to see everyone for more than a couple days, but during the days leading up to media day he doesn’t show you any sign of nervousness or doubt. And you can’t help but think that this year is the year, he seems to finally be in the right headspace to win this thing. 

Charles and you had spent basically every free moment the two of you had together this week. It was nice, the two of you together again like old times. You had gotten the week off from work, a perk from your job, and it wasn’t like Charles had to travel to another country. So, the two of you took full advantage of the week. Dinner with both families together, hanging out with friends, and just enjoying each other's company filled your Monday through Wednesday. 

But come Wednesday evening you found yourself at Charles apartment after a long day on the water with all your mutual friends. You’re absolutely beat and ready to be back at your place when Charles asks you to come back to his, and you want to say no, but the way he looks in golden hour could be used as a hypnotization technique, so you say yes. 

He claims he’s got something to show you, but the whole car ride and trek into his apartment he won’t budge on telling you what it is. It isn’t until he sits down at his piano with a blush creeping up his neck that you know what he’s got to show you. 

“Have you been working on new music?” You ask with a hopeful smile on your face. 

His fingers ghosted over the keys and his pinky lightly tapped one– the sound filling the room. “For a while now and I think it’s finally ready.” The blush had made its way onto his cheeks and he’s fidgeting with his bracelets as he makes eye contact with you. “So, I think it’s only right that the person that it’s for should get to hear it first.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise and now you’ve both got crimson painted cheeks. “You wrote a song for me?!” 

“Yeah.” He states sheepishly. 

You’ve always loved hearing Charles play the piano. There were many late nights spent where you sat in his apartment and just listened to him mess around on the piano. Those nights were shamelessly some of your favorite moments with Charles, it was like the world didn’t exist and it was just you two and the piano. So to know that he thought and even cared enough about you to write you something had your heart about ready to leap out of your chest. 

“Well, let's hear it then.” You sat down on your usual spot on the couch and eagerly waited for the music to hit your ears. 

He hesitates at first, his fingers slightly slipping on the keys, but once he gets himself sorted the sound that comes from that piano nearly brings tears to your eyes. It’s beautiful and heartfelt and you can’t believe he wrote something like this while he was thinking of you. It’s tugging at those feelings you’ve still got for him after ten years and you try not to get your hopes up that this means he feels the same as you. 

When the song is over his head immediately turns to you for reassurance, but all he sees is your body barreling towards him. You’ve got your arms around him before he can even process what’s happening, but from your excited words of nonsense he knows you loved it. 

“Oh mon dieu!” Is the first coherent thing you’re able to get out. 

“I take it you liked it?” 

“Liked it? I loved it Charlie! It was beautiful and the fact that it was for me made me love it even more. Truly what did I ever do to deserve someone like you in my life? Merci a million times.” 

“I’m glad you loved it. I’ve been working on it for months, wanted to get it perfect in time to show you now.” 

You’re both beaming at each other and to anyone from the outside looking in, the two of you looked so in love it was crazy. Crazy that the both of you have been harboring feelings for each other for years and years and neither of you have made the first move. 

“Will you play me some more?” You try to give him your best puppy dog eyes and of course he can’t say no to you, puppy dog eyes or not. You give him one last hug as a thank you before you sit back down on the couch and let the melodic sounds soothe you. In fact it soothes you so much that combined with the tiredness from being on the boat all day you end up eventually falling asleep. 

You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until you feel Charles gently shaking you awake telling you that is time for bed. It’s not uncommon for the two of you to spend the night at one another’s places. You’ve spent many nights in Charles' guest bedroom after drunken nights out or sometimes just for fun. You’re clinging to him, still basically asleep, as he helps you walk towards what you think is the guest bedroom, but it’s his. 

Charles was only going to grab your pajamas that you had left here last time, they were just in the laundry basket on his dresser and it would just take a second. But you followed him into his room still thinking it was the guest room and Charles doesn’t even know you’ve come in behind him until he turns around to see you crawling into his bed.

That all too familiar feeling starts to bloom in his chest as he sees you curled up and comfortable in his bed. He’d want nothing more than to climb in next to you and hold you all night, but he knows the guest room is his room tonight. Charles doesn’t even make it two steps before you call out his name. When he turns around he’s not expecting to see you lying there staring at him with those sleepy eyes, comforter pulled back as you pat the empty spot next to you. He knows he shouldn’t, this is different than cuddling on the couch or sharing beds as kids, it feels different at least. But against his better judgment he climbs in next to you and like he’s your missing puzzle piece you instantly slide into Charles arms. 

It’s like home, being in each other’s embrace. 

The next morning when you wake up in Charles' room it takes you a minute to remember everything, but the blush that creeps onto your face at the memory of you and Charles cuddling in his bed is embarrassingly bad. And you thank god Charles isn’t next to you right now to see it. 

You do wonder where he’s gone though. He’s not in the living room or kitchen, and it’s still too early for him to have left for media day, but then you hear complaining coming from the bathroom. 

“Maman! No, that's going to be too short!” 

As you peek around the door frame you find Pascale cutting Charles' hair, a tradition the two of them have had every year before the Monaco GP. 

“Charles last time I checked you’re not a hair stylist, let your Maman do her job.” You teased as you finally entered the bathroom and you see him roll his eyes at you in the mirror.

Pascale lights up at the sight of you and leans over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Mon amour, you’re here early.” The look on her face tells you she knows you spent the night, but it’s not like it’s something new or anything happened. Hell even if she didn’t know she could definitely tell you had just rolled out of bed. 

“I spent the night. Fell asleep after we were out on the boat all day.” You shrugged your shoulders, it truly was no big deal (you sleeping in his bed and cuddling with him aside). 

She doesn’t say anything, but she does nothing to hide the smile on her face and sly looks she gives you and Charles the whole time she’s cutting his hair. She’s been waiting for the prophecy to fulfill itself forever and that prophecy just so happens to be Charles and you ending up together. Call it Mother’s intuition, but she’s known you two were made for eachother since you were kids. If you didn’t end up together soon she was going to have to do her own plotting to get you two to fess up about your feelings.

Pascale can see how you two look at each other, how Charles’ eyes light up when you enter the room. How you’ve always been his soft spot since you were little kids. The way you speak about Charles like he’d hung the stars and the moon in the sky. She knew you fell first and Charles a couple years later. All these little things she’s noticed and stored away for that eventual wedding day. 

You can see Charles staring at you through the mirror and it’s making you squirm, his eyes burning into you. “You gonna get rid of that facial hair too?” You try to get him to focus on anything other than you at the moment. 

His mouth opens in fake shock and Pascale curses him for moving. “I’m actually thinking of growing a full beard.” 

“Oh please don’t.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘’t.” 

Charles and you don’t speak about you spending the night in his bed or in his arms. In fact you don’t see him again until qualifying on Saturday where he puts it on pole. You’re ecstatic and you can tell he is too even though he’s trying to remain calm and collected while he does his press duties. He’s gotten pole two times before in Monaco, he knows pole doesn’t mean you win, but he can’t help but think it’s a good sign. 

That night you find yourself back at Charles' apartment by his request once again. Which was a surprise, you figured he’d want to be alone the night before the big race. But it’s quite the opposite, he wanted your company, he can’t get how good it felt to have you in his arms in his bed the other night and he selfishly hopes it happens again tonight. 

“Feeling good about tomorrow?” You asked as the two of you sat down for an amazing pre race dinner of pizza. His trainer may not like it, but you two thought it was a good idea. He needed all the positive energy he could get and if that meant pizza for dinner, then so be it. 

“Yeah. The car has been consistent the past two days and I’ve got pole.” He paused for a moment and you can tell he wants to say something, but he stuffs his mouth with pizza instead. You don’t press the matter anymore, figuring he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, didn’t want to possibly jinx anything. It’s a relatively quiet dinner the rest of the time, he asks about how your job is going and you two shamelessly gossip for a moment about two old friends who recently broke up. 

It’s not until you’re putting the leftover pizza into the fridge that he brings up tomorrow again. 

“It feels right this time.” He’s leaning against the counter, eyes trained on you as you turn back around to face him. “I mean tomorrow– it feels right. I think it’s gonna happen.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you move to lean against the counter next to him. “I think so too. You’ve been different too, more relaxed this week. Think it might be the universe telling us it’s finally gonna happen?” 

A deep sigh comes from Charles. “Mon dieu I hope so.” 

You glance over at the time on the microwave– 11:00 p.m. Shit. You didn’t think it was that late already. 

“It’s getting late Charles. You should be in bed and I should be heading home. It’s a big day tomorrow.” You go to give him a hug goodbye, but he’s just staring at you, and it throws you for a loop. “What’s wrong?” 

He swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Was he sure he wanted to ask you this? Would it make things weird? It never has before when he’s asked you, but this time felt different. Fuck his palms were drenched in sweat and he could feel his heart beat racing. 

“Um– well you could just spend the night if you wanted to” 

You try not to act like you weren’t silently hoping the whole night that he’d ask you to stay. You had figured he wouldn’t want you to again after you basically invaded his bed the other night, so hearing him tell you to stay made you a little giddy. 

“Traffic is a nightmare this time of year…” You act like you're weighing your options while you fully know you’re going to say yes. “Probably take me twice as long to get home, even at this time of night.” You fake ponder some more, really putting on a show. “Yeah I guess I’ll spend the night.” 

He tries to hide the smile on his face when he hears you finally accept his offer and as much as he would like to stay up and talk some more, he really did need to be getting to bed. “Well, I probably should be in bed by now. So I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” 

“Yeah. I should go to bed too.” 

So you follow him down the hall towards the bedrooms. When he reaches his room he opens the door, but lingers in the doorway. You being a couple paces behind him, figured he was just waiting to tell you goodnight. But when you reach the guest room, which is across from his room, he doesn’t say anything to you. Your hand lingers above the door knob and something inside of you tells you not to open it– to turn around instead. 

You’re met with his piercing blue eyes staring at you as you turn around. His gaze sometimes could be so intense, but this time you matched him. There was an obvious tension in the air, but neither of you were brave enough to be the one to break it. Then suddenly you see Charles nod his head towards his room before finally going past the doorway. He’d left the door open behind him and you knew that was just another unspoken invitation. And like a moth to a flame you followed behind him, not even second guessing your actions. You hadn’t even opened the guest bedroom door, you were a goner as soon as he asked you to spend the night. 

For the second time in a week the two of you shared the same bed, not sexually, but it definitely wasn’t friendly or at least how normal friends would share a bed. But tonight he’s in your arms, your fingers lightly combing through his hair as he rests his head on your stomach. He falls asleep rather quickly, his light snores filling the room, but sleep evades you that night. Your heads a mess, you can’t help but think that Charles has to feel the same way as you, there’s just no way that he doesn’t. 

What man is this intimate with someone in a non sexual way and doesn’t have the slightest bit of feelings for them? But then your heart breaks at the idea of him just stringing you along and you know you’ve got to set up some boundaries to protect yourself. Unfortunately you were never going to be the one to admit how you felt first, so unless he spills his guts, then this was the last time you’d share a bed with Charles like this. 

The next morning he’s already gone and at the track by the time you wake up and when you grab your phone from the nightstand you see he’d sent you a text. 

Charlie: i left early this morning and you just looked too peaceful to wake up before i left. so i’ll see you before lights out. 

A sigh escaped past your lips as you tossed your phone on the bed, today was going to be a long day. 

You made the journey back to your apartment to get ready and then fought the traffic again to get down to the circuit. The hustle and bustle distracts your brain from continuing your spiral session from last night, something you were grateful for. You were here to cheer on and support Charles, not go into a frenzy once again about whether or not he likes you. 

A good amount of your time is spent in Ferrari’s hospitality chatting with everyone and discussing potential outcomes for the race. You don’t end up seeing Charles until the time between the drivers parade and race time. He’s in his drivers room when you find him and he’s literally the calmest you’ve ever seen him before a race. 

His face lights up when he sees you and he’s immediately pulling you in for a hug. “Didn’t think you were gonna come for a second. We’ve usually seen each other by now.” 

“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Just got caught up talking to everyone and you know how our Moms get in a large group. I had to wrangle them in before they invited everyone over for dinner tonight.” 

“Well I don’t plan on being home for dinner tonight. I’m going to be out celebrating.” He’s got a cheeky grin on his face as speaks. 

You laughed lightly at his new found confidence. “Oh someone is sure of themself.” 

He only laughs along with you, as the two of you sit down on his physio table.

The two of you chat some more about random things, like if he’s planning on going to Jimmy’z or someplace else tonight. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been talking until he gets a knock on his door letting him know it’s twenty minutes till lights out. Before you leave you stand in front of him, holding out your ring clad pinky finger and like a natural reflex Charles wraps his around yours, pulling them close to his chest. 

“You’re gonna do great and when you take that top step on the podium I’m gonna be there front and center cheering you on.” 

“You better be.” He’s serious, he doesn’t want to win this thing if you aren't right there alongside him.

“I promise Charlie.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You think you might pass out or throw up when the lights go out and the race finally begins. It then turns into thinking you’re going to do both when there’s a red flag not even halfway through the first lap. Your mind automatically goes straight to Charles and your stomach churns at the idea of him being hurt, screw the win, all that mattered to you was that he was okay. Thankfully he’s not involved in the crash, but the red flag lasts for what seems forever. And eventually you have to endure the start of the race again. 

You’re a nervous wreck the whole race, but you think with how hard Pascale has been gripping your hand that she might be more nervous than you. It’s the longest 78 laps of your life and you’re praying he can maintain the lead, put a big enough gap between Oscar that he can just ride this race out. Lap by lap he’s holding steady but that just makes you more nervous. The knot in your stomach grows more and more as that lap number gets closer to 78. 

He’s driven so well the whole time you couldn’t have been more proud. You’d been holding back tears since lap 68, but when you hear him over the radio on lap 75 say that he’s just going to bring it home you can’t help but let a couple tears fall. And by now you know the win is his. He’s got almost a nine second lead and as long as he keeps his head clear he was going to be the first one to see the checkered flag. 

The feeling of seeing Charles cross the finish line and knowing he had won was indescribable. The whole Ferrari unit was going crazy, already rushing down to be there when Charles got out of the car. You’re cheering as tears run down your face, your Mom and Pascale hugging you, the two of them also in tears. It’s surreal, him finally winning, you can only imagine what he’s feeling like right now. You waste no time in heading over to get the best spot to watch the podium ceremony. You’re front and center, the metal barrier pressed up against your abdomen as more people fill the crowd behind you. 

The feeling you got seeing him come out, take that top step, and proudly hold that trophy was something you wished you could feel forever. To see him wrapped up in the Monaco flag as the anthem played, the visible weight taken off of his shoulders. You were so unbelievably proud of him and so utterly in love with him. The tears just wouldn’t stop coming as you watched him shine up there. The universe had finally decided that this was his time, he was destined to win this race today. 

Charles feels on top of the world as he looks down at everyone in the crowd, he can’t believe he’d finally won his home race. He’d immediately spotted you as soon as he took that top step and he could see how happy you are for him, tears streaming down your face paired with that beaming smile. His heart has never felt as full as it does right now. And as he stands there hearing his national anthem play at his home race he knows that today was meant to be. The universe put him here, put you here, for a reason. He’s tired of pretending like his life wouldn’t be better without you being his. The two of you haven’t broken eye contact for awhile, both of you grinning like fools, and he decides that now is the time. 

“Je suis amoureux de vous” He mouths to you. 

It takes you a moment to realize what he was saying, but when you do you think you’re dreaming. There’s no way he just admitted to being in love with you right here, during his podium celebration. You pinch yourself just for good measure before mouthing it back to him. And if it was even possible his smile gets even bigger. 

You’re the first person he wants to see after the celebratory champagne pop. He can’t wait a second longer to tell you how he actually feels out loud. He doesn’t care that he’s drenched in champagne or that there’s hundreds of people around. He’s waited too long to let a moment like this go by. He’s pushing his way through the crowd to find you, he’s basically getting manhandled, but he doesn’t care, you’re his priority. And when he finally finds you it’s like a scene straight out of a movie. 

His adrenaline is pumping and he doesn’t even think about what he’s doing, he’s just running straight towards you, his heart fluttering when you smile at the sight of him. His hands cup your face and in an instant his lips are on yours. It takes you by surprise, but once your brain finally processes what’s happening, you grab him by his race suit, pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss. He tastes like champagne and sweat, his lips soft, and his facial hair tickles your face. Kissing Charles is everything you could have ever dreamed of and more, you’d never thought the day would come. 

When you finally pull back it feels like the world is spinning and Charles laughs at you being drunk off one kiss from him. His hands cup your face once more causing you to focus on him. “I’m in love with you. Have been for years, but I’ve just been too scared to say anything, but winning today let me know the universe was on my side. And I couldn’t pass up the opportunity once again to tell you how I feel.” Your eyes widen at hearing him say he’s been in love with you for years. “Don’t act so surprised. I made it painfully obvious sometimes.” His dimples peaking out as he smiles at you. 

“I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen Charlie.” 

Now it’s his turn to look surprised. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Was too scared that you didn’t feel the same.” 

“I could never not love you Y/N. It’s always been you, you’re my person. I wish I would have  told you sooner so I could have been doing this more often.” He pulls you in for another kiss and you think if he didn’t have his arms around you your legs would have given out. 

Never in a million years did you think that Charles would be confessing his love to you after he’d just won his home race. If thirteen year old you could see you right now she’d probably die. You can’t believe the man you love with every fiber of your being loves you back. The universe definitely wanted today to be a win not only for Charles, but for you. 

He grabs your hand and presses your ring clad pinky finger to his lips. “Mon coeur.” Then he presses another kiss to your lips. “Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime aussi.” 

thirty three and thirty six

The summer sun had started to make her farewell to the principality of Monaco, pink and orange hues swirled in the sky. A little boy and girl play on a weathered playset, their giggles echoing through the open air. The sound of a screeching sliding door tells them that their Maman is coming to get them before they even hear her holler their names. “Come say goodbye to grand-mère and grand-père!” 

Their tiny bodies run towards the house and are soon met with lots of hugs and kisses from their grandparents, who they see very often, but it wouldn’t seem like it by the way they were acting. 

“Ok, who wants ice cream?” Their Papa asks after all the goodbyes are said and they are out the door. 

“Me!” Is said in unison from the two children. 

The little girl has her Papa wrapped around her finger, he just thinks the world of her as they walk hand in hand down the street, while the little boy is definitely a Maman’s boy. 

“You know your Maman and I used to come to this place all the time when we were younger.” 

“We know Papa, you’ve told us a hundred times, and we come here all the time.” The little girl sasses her Papa.

“I know but I just like to reminisce.” The man gives his wife a wink and she knows he’s about ready to go down memory lane.

The journey to the ice cream shop is filled with stories about their younger years and luckily for the children the ice cream shop isn’t that far away. 

That all too familiar sweet smell soon fills the parents senses and it brings them back to when they were around their children’s age. That same bell on the door dings as they enter and that same old man who should have retired a decade ago is still working behind the counter. 

“Ah the Leclercs! My favorite family. You know I’m gonna have to start making extra vanilla ice cream just to accommodate you guys.” 

taglist: @rana030 @blueflorals @sltwins

[sweet-as-kiwis]

The guitar can hold a tune :D

[moonstruckme]

a thought:

reader is literally so grouchy and bratty and tired and is accidentally snapping at (whoever u want) and thennn they take initiative to casual dominance her to take a nap after some tea and it’s just so crazy fluffy!!!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: d/s dynamics

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

You’d claimed to want to read with Remus on the couch, but you keep huffing like your book is your least favorite thing in the world. Remus wraps a hand around your thigh, rubbing a slow back and forth with his thumb in an attempt to pacify you. He knows precisely what this mood is about. 

“Ugh, this construction noise is the worst!” You glare out the window as if hoping the men across the street will see. 

“Why don’t you use my headphones and try to have a nap, dove,” Remus suggests mildly. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, sounds like it’s catching up to you.” 

You bristle at the implication. “I’m not tired, I’m just sick of this. Nobody asked for the road to be redone. It was perfectly fine before.” 

Remus shoots you a sideways look. The road outside your house was riddled with potholes, and you both know it. If you were in a better mood, you’d be baking cookies for the construction workers to thank them. 

You ignore it, huffing again. “I’m gonna get some dinner,” you say, setting your book down roughly as you stand. 

“Last night’s leftovers are in the fridge.” 

“Don’t feel like those.” 

Remus gives your bum a light swat through your sweatpants as you go by. “Eat something real,” he warns. 

You make a vexed harrumphing sound. He chooses not to hear it. 

What he does hear, less than a minute later, is popcorn popping in the microwave. Remus sighs through his nose, tenting his book on the coffee table and pursuing you into the kitchen. You don’t turn around as his footsteps approach. 

“Dove.” Remus takes your hips, turning you manually. “That’s not a real dinner.” 

You shrug, obstinate. Your stare looks like you’re itching for a fight. “It’s what I feel like.” 

“You haven’t had anything with a vegetable in it all day. You need to pick something else.” 

You roll your eyes, turning back around. Ignoring him. Remus hits the button to shut off the microwave. 

You spin back around, eyes flashing. “You can’t—” 

“That’s enough.” He takes your jaw in his hand, your chin resting at the apex of his thumb and forefinger. “You’re being a brat,” he says in a low, steady voice, “because you’re sleepy and probably because you haven’t eaten a real meal since yesterday. That stops now. You’re going to eat the dinner you made yesterday, which you liked, and then go have a nap. Understand?” 

Remus isn’t really irritated with you. You’re being unruly, sure, but these moods always end once you get what you’re looking for from him. Now he’s given you it, you’ll calm down. 

It’s fucking precious, the way your temper melts away under his hard gaze. Your eyes round out and your head sits heavier in his hand, remorse finding its way into your expression. 

“Sorry,” you say, tone about ten degrees milder than it had just been. 

Remus rolls his eyes at you, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “I know, darling. You can still make it up to me. Heat up those leftovers, okay?” 

You hum, and he lets you go, kissing the hill of your cheek. 

A minute later, you join him in the living room, curling up next to him on the couch while you eat and he reads. Your posture is already less rigid, the both of you enveloped in companionable silence and the smell of warm food. Your fork clinks as you set your plate down on the coffee table, and when you don’t get up to go to bed, Remus looks over at you. Your eyes are already on him, a question in them.

He fights to repress the smile that curves his lips. “What?” 

“Can I sleep here?” you ask hopefully. “Would it distract you if I put my head on your lap?” 

Remus coos. “No, sweetheart, of course you can.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, though you’re already lying down, him uncrossing his legs to make his lap more comfortable for you. “You’re not still mad at me?” 

He tsks, petting your hair while you get comfortable. “I’m not. Wanna know a secret?” 

You hum, eyes already closing. 

“I’m never really mad at you, dove.”

[sinning-23]

Backseat Pillow Princess

Hey y'all! I like to call this game, "Guess what I saw and cant stop fucking thinking about?" Take this because I need them both carnally and I'm sure you do too!

Enjoy :D

Warnings: violence, blood, swearing, the reader is annoying and Logan pretends to hate it in a way that seems like he actually does, they should have fucked but uhhh they didn't, lots of tension, pt.2 coming soon hopefully?

PT.2 UP NOW

"Bae i love youuu, you my everythinggg~"

"Can she shut the fuck up"

"I'm your main bitchhhh, fuck a wedding ringggg~"

"Only if you ask her nicely,"

"Nah, I like when he's mean."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me"

The nonstop back-and-forth bickering had been going on for about 2 and a half hours now and the man the myth the legend, Wolverine was getting dangerously tired of it, unfortunately. Your shitty renditions of Sexyy Red matched with Deadpools incessant yapping was becoming too much to bear.

But little did he know, that was exactly your plan.

"Are we there yetttt" You whine from the backseat, sprawled out with your arm over your face.

It had been what felt like days (despite it only being a couple hours as previously mentioned) you'd been driving and the fact that you were in a small space filled with touch-starved testosterone(Wade and Logan) wasn't helping your case.

"If you shut up it'll go faster," Logan grumbles, Wade's chatting only worsening.

"No, it won't, you're just being mean! What's a sexy, super talented, immortal.. sorta, girl like myself supposed to do?" You whine again, an idea soon popping into your head.

If there was anything you loved more than seeing how far you could push this crotchety son of a bitch, it was stirring the pot.

Knowing the idiot riding passenger, a slip-up was inevitable and all it would take was the right pressure applied from yours truly.

"Hey Wade, wanna ask Wolvie what he's gonna do when he gets back? To his own timeline that is." You hum, resting your elbows on the middle console and your chin in your palms.

Ah yes, the fantasy your sick little brain conjured up was almost to fruition. All they needed were a few nudges and you'd all be at each other's throats with as much violent, sexual tension you could dream of.

"Yeah, what will you do if the TVA can fix your timeline?"

Bingo

You lean back, preparing for the absolute bloodbath that's bound to take place as the tension skyrockets.

Now up until this point, you'd be trying your damndest to get into Wolverine's pants, call it 'something you needed to scratch off your bucket list'. Anyway, from the "Mad Max"(as Wade put it) esque part of the void all the way here, you made your fair share of passes.

Unfortunately, all were shot down with a snark comment, the unsheathing of those gorgeous adamantium claws, or a growl...all of which only further fueled your desire. What could you say you liked a challenge?

"What did you say?"

You lean forward, making eye contact with Wade, his head shaking as if to say "No don't don't don't" but you were never good with social cues.

"He said 'IF' sweetheart." You retort, practically kicking your feet as the look in Logan's eyes grows wild, that growl barely bubbling in his throat as he and Wade converse back and forth.

"You shut the fuck up." He seethes, though directed at you his eyes stay focused on Wade.

You fight the urge to say 'make me" but you soon become quiet when Logan really starts to read your buddy in red. Oh, this fucker was definitely projecting...

"And you," He's got an accusatory, gloved finger pointing at the center of your face.

"You got some unresolved daddy issues or something? I don't know what hole or holes you're trying to fill but I can sure as shit tell you the harder you try to get under my skin the more it makes me wanna rip yours off that pretty-looking face." He growls, your heart practically beating out of your chest.

"Now I suggest each of you shut your goddamn mouths until we are where we need to be."

It's silent for a second again and you can feel the bridge about to break...anyyy second now.

"I'm gonna fight you now."

Three...

Logan chuckles, amused at the fact that Wade would even suggest he could getaway with something like that

Two..

And mid-sentence, Wade's fists make contact with Logan's nose.

One.

You scoot back, the car shaking as Wades head makes contact with hr car door and then the radio, each smack of his skull changing the station.

“Omg nooo don’t kill each other you’re both so hot and sexy and cool, nooo.” You yelp, your false concerned pleas falling on deaf ears.

And once the blood from each blow splatters against your face, you feel a bit opted to join in. Besides, he hurt your feelings, he deserved a little ass-kicking.

Question, when three seemingly frustrated and regenerative assholes get into a car fight with tensions, sexual or otherwise, that have been building for about 2 days now, what happens?

You slip past the pair of claws that just barely nick your side as you shove the driver's seat forward, effectively trapping Logan for a moment.

"You did this on purpose! You honry fuck!" Wade shouts, using his elbow to crack your skull and shoved you right back into your spot behind them before you can respond. Logan pushed the seat back again, now trapping you as his claws stabbed through the cushion, impalling you through the back of the seat.

"FUCK! This isn't how this was supposed to pan out in my head!" You yelp, gasping when the claws leave you feeling the worst kind of empty.

"I didn't even do anything he's the one that lied!" You seethe, using the heel of your boot to kick Wade's side in, the crack of bones bringing you much satisfaction.

"IT WAS AN EDUCATED WISH!" He defends, unloading about 3 bullets into your sternum before kicking Logan out the winsheild, glass falling inside and out.

You take a gulp of air, digging the bullet out before locking your arm around Wade's neck and the passenger seat headrest.

"You red-clad cunt! I was supposed to rizz him up, fuck him, and ride off into the sunset with my rugged fucking mountain of a man and you RUINED IT!" You shout, releasing Wade when six separate knives dig right back into you.

Taking the chance, you throw the back of your head at his face before pulling his claws from out your sides and kicking Wade's chest in. Looks like legs were your strong suit today!

"You said you didn't wanna fill any holes, yet here we are!" You growl in frustration, turning back around to shove your boot heel into this man's rock-hard chest.

He only grabs your ankle, pulling you forward, once again skewered by his claws. Your position is less than ideal, any other angle would for sure look l like you were on the receiving end of some damn good strokes.

And there it is, that stupid bloodied grin he gives while he watches your eyes squeeze shut and your head tilt back. A light, yet pained swear left your bloodied lips and the gasp that leaves your lungs when his claws retracted was just as erotic as you'd imagine.

"Would've been better off fucking at this point huh?" You joke, seeing Wade creep up behind the backseat door.

"Maybe." He responds a bit coy, the tension only dying down for a fraction of a second before you're at each other's throats again.

With your help, Wade is right back in the car, and the three of you are now waiting for the next move. Logan's up against the dash, Wade is heaving against the backseat by your side, the two of you manspreading with a dangerously hungry look directed at the man in yellow.

"This is pointless. We're gonna be here for hours regenerating and fucking each other up, but damn if it isn't fun." you chuckle, letting your head lull back against the completely destroyed headrest.

"So what do you suggest, 'sweetheart'," Logan growls, using your little pet name from earlier.

"Oh I think you know very well what I suggest, but I'm starting to believe you just can get it up can you peepaw?" You insult, Logan's face contorting in a sneer.

There's another silence, your gaze locked with Logan's as you both teeter on the edge of regular frustration and the urge to rip each other's clothes off. This fuckers love language was definitely acts of playful violence...if playful meant an absolute bloodbath in this stupid-ass honda odyssey.

"I feel like there's some underlying tension here that I definitely wanna be a part of.

"You shut the fuck up" You speak simultaneously, Wade doing just that.

"So what'll it be, bub. Fuck me or fight me?" You mock, seeing that smile right back on his face.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You would like to say that the remainder of the day, into the night, all the way into the wee hours of the morning were spent furiously love-making in the bloody and battered Honda, but that would only be half the truth.

The moonlight had shone so brightly down on the three of you, each movement calculated, as you continued to punch, stab, pick and damn near fuck each other in the enclosed space.

At one point your hands were pinned to the dented dashboard, Logan slotted between your legs, Wade right behind your oddly bent body....accept Wade's gun was at the small of your back and Logan had his hand wrapped tightly around your throat as your legs squeezed as tight as possible.

And at another, you'd been hovering above Logan, hands at his chest while Wade had a fistful of your hair, his grip lethal... a-although your hands were only at his chest cause you were double-fisting two knives that you had wedged to the hilt into each to his pectorals...and Wade was also pulling your hair to get a better angle at your chest since he deemed it was "only fair" considering you were going the same to the man beneath you.

It had only gotten worse, your comments ranging from rude to just plain nasty, and the farther along you went in the night....strangely enough, the better everything felt. The slight accidental/intentional grind of your hips against Logans, or the way you just so happened to fall back into Wade's chest, your bodies pressed so close together you could feel each breath you both took.

"Oh you just don't know when to quit, do you honey?" Logan grumbles, throwing you off him, your positions quickly switch.

"Not in my vocabulary sweetheart." You shoot back, gasping when Wade grips your hair again.

"Yeah, thought you were seeing the pattern ready peanut, she's hard to break." He chuckles, a filthy smile making its way over your bloodied face.

You were practically sandwiched, Wade behind you, his chest to your back, and your legs just barely make room for Logan who was kneeling one leg on the backseat, the other slightly off the edge.

"This is a little unfair don't you think? Feels like I'm about to get tag-teamed." You joke, the moonlight illuminating the current position just enough.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're sick." Logan scoffs, only feeding into your slight delusions.

"Yeah, I might be sick but you're a hypocrite, You want it too, don't you? I know for sure Wade does, 'cause that's definitely not his gun on my ass." You shoot back, body and brain stirring from the hours of activities.

He doesn't say anything, just tightens he grip he has on your hips.

“Cmonnn, we had our nice,” you glance over at the destroyed radio, your hopes of trying to get the time seemingly crushed.

“We’ll say 9 hours give or take, we’ve already been fighting and none of us are really satisfied.”

You can feel Wade adjust, his hands now secure at your shoulders, massaging the small of your neck with his thumbs.

“We all know what’s gonna solve that and we can put this whole debacle behind us.” You coax, your hips rolling a bit to meet his and he turn his head, jaw working as if he was seriously considering the offer.

And with a finally huff what really sounded more like a growl of last restrained, he’s on you.

——————————————————————-

YES IM MAKING A PART TWO YES THERE WILL BE SMUT BECAUSE WTF YALL. UHHH HOPE YOU ENJOY LMK IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED I. THE NEXT PART!

[deadghosy]

Hi! I hope you're doing great!

So I saw the headcannons of reader as Catnap and Dogday and I fell in love with the way you write! So I was wondering if you could do a headcannon about the reader being bendy from bendy and the ink machine?

Like the reader can draw and bring ink creatures to help around the hotel, maybe draw some decorations for the hotel? Sometimes going full on ink demon form to protect it or just pick up their friends on their back to make them feel taller

And the reader was actually an animator at joey drew studios and died, I think that would be pretty cool!

P.s I would love if the reader was wearing the same suit bendy wore in bendy and the dark revival

HAZBIN HOTEL X BENDY!READER

Prompt: a cute “little” demon becomes a resident who helps with the designs around the hotel!

Starting off. You definitely appeared as baby bendy 😘 with ya cute ass red bow or white bow. What ever you want the bow color as you showed up to the door trying to seem professional as Charlie gushes at your cuteness and lets you in.

The picture of baby bendy in the car, yeah you have that as you literally fuckin' zoom in the hallways drinking apple juice like a bad ass kid….bendy!Reader and chibi!Reader both doing races to make sinners poor😭 lil evil asses….

I imagine Angel dust and Alastor ganging up on you as a team to insult you by your height until you grow up to ink demon from with a roar.

“HOLY SHIT-” “Oh my.” They both said as you they were blew off by the power of your roar. So you felt happy seeing them shocked to see that part of you as Charlie didn’t see it and had commented how adorable you are with your suit.

Shit you are a devil in an angel’s suit‼️

You still wore the suit you had in when you met Audrey…man you miss her. But you are getting taken care of by Charlie and her friends here. Plus her father.

You help design the banners around the place! And even your small ink minions help as well.

I can imagine bendy! Reader being like “fuck it.” Because they can’t reach for the cereal and turn into normal height looking bendy and just starts to act as if it’s normal. While in the background, the crew has pure confusion on their face. Like, “what the fuck? You can be taller?”

“Yeah! Pretty neat right?” “..Im out of here…” husk says walking away as niffty goes up to you excited to talk to you about your height.

You ran over alastor’s foot once….you never speeded over 120 mph in your whole life seeing Alastor chase after you.

I imagine you going to normal height as you are just chilling with your small or long tail swinging and husk gets curious as he picks it up with his paw. “So…this ya tail right here?” You nodded reading the new paper. “So you’re a sinner demon?” “I ain’t nothin'” you said with a smirk as you disappeared in ink.

No one knows what exactly what you are. You don’t have the basic looks to look like a sinner or a hell born. So it’s kinda confusing to other.

You’re obviously a human who died to the ink as you use to animate bendy…so you’re bendy?? Does that make since because whatever you died by is your demon form….hopefully that made sense..

You once went full ink demon mode because a sinner tried to attack at you and husk while just running errands for the hotel. You transformed getting taller with the ink covering your face as you growl and slashes at them with a giant gloved hand covered in ink. And after that husk respected you more.

“Bendy/reader, can you help me make a cute star design?” Vaggie asked as Charlie was trying to make a star gazing banner. You nodded with your cartoony smile and pulls out a marker and started to draw on the air. The star in the air becomes to life as vaggie’s eyes widen.

“Uhm…oh wow. Thanks?” Vaggie says as she walks away with question marks visible while you just smile.

Y’know those dubbed comics where bendy has an accent? I feel like that’s cannon because you and Angel would be babbling about which part of city you guys were from.

I can see sir Pentious and you doing crafts as you made him an ink cartoon flower as he made you a bracelet bead with your name on it.

Lucifer will definitely play violin as you tap dance. Just a wholesome ass moment fr 💗🦆

You one time had fat nuggets in your doom buggy as you guys had shades just chilling around the hotel like bad asses✨

You miss your original family when you were alive and working. But everytime you open your eyes, you are greeted by the sweet comfort of your new family in the hazbin hotel.

You one time made an ink sculpture of your family and you tried to hold your smile but it faltered as you cry at how you missed your family as the ink sculpture melted due to your emotions.

Alastor appeared in your room seeing you sad little state as he comforted you. He had taken a liking to you ever since you joined the crew.

I can see you being childish because of your shortness so you use it to your advantage. YOU AND ALASTOR MAKE YOUR INK DEMONS FIGHT LIKE POKÉMON 😭😭

lol imagine bendy!reader making a whole like of fake ass tarrot cards to fuck with people as you have that smirk on your face.

“You’re gonna get run over toots…watch your back..” “what. The. Fuck-”

They got ran over by a mysterious person and a car….who knew who it was…it was you, you little bastard.

When the hotel has a talent and show day or night, you remembered how you animated bendy to do ballet and tap dancing. So with your information, that’s what you did. Yeah some sinners laughed..but some aplaude as they found it cute and so did your friends

You making ink blob bracelets for your friends as you can make them solid is a goal for real.

Headcannon on how you would try to make ink sculptures, but failing as you huff in anger and smash it with a full ink demon hand as the rest of your body is fine.

Headcannon of you just accidentally leaving ink footprints as you took off your shoes once 😭 niffty doesn’t complain as she likes to clean tho

I can see Lucifer picking your small body up happy for you to be so small as he has started in his eyes. And you are like annoyed at how the cast picks you up like a baby.

LMAO THAT WALMART MEME STOPPP😭😭 LUCIFER PUTS YOU UP TO THE DAMN WALMART CAMERA HAVING ALASTOR ALSO PICK LUCI UP 😭😭

I imagine you and Alastor having either a “bad ass son x calm father” troupe or a “non-biological sibling” troupe as you two get quite along

Your little ass doom buggy is such a weapon when needing to take a troubled guest in the hotel….YOU RAN THEM OVER?! 😨 ALL PEOPLE SEE IS A SMALL ASS INK DEMON HAVING A GUEST SCREAMING AS THEY GET RUNNED OVER TO THE DOOR-

So when the angels came for the battle, you were sure damn ready as you suffocated them in ink and control them into killing their own.

After seeing your full demon form, you definitely had been seen in a different light. They don’t see you as the cute baby bendy they seen you before.

Nah nah. They see you as a grown ass person as you are not in the baby bendy phase but more like the fanart type shit looks. With your charm, you definitely bring in some customers. 

HOPED YOU GUYS LIKED THIS AS THIS IS ALL I COULD COME UP WITH 🦆💗 MWAH

[grimoirguestbook]

Book of Bill Website Codes

(Organized by category with notes)

Here's my list of inputs that work on the website :)

Hopefully the read more works like I think it does and I don't accidentally spoil anybody

That being said by clicking read more you will see All of the codes I have found so far

Please be mindful and try not to spoil anybody else with this information. So please be careful if reblogging

I got everything I have collected/found on here, it's a bit messy right now but After I take a small break I'll reorganize and add notes but for now everything's on here, please so check out the posts linked in the log as once I lost all leads I looked to their post for other inputs :)

Also feel free to put any you know of that Aren't on here in the replies I'm sure there's some missing

I will be updating as I find more so check back in if you can! :)

Thank you!

They'll be categorized by

Neat Tv text- Nothing special the tv just gets some text to it

Tab pages-brings you to another tab/website

Audio/video- Audio/video clip plays

Readables- A picture will pop up on screen that you can read

Printables- You can print them :D!

Other- Hard to categorize

Note:

If an * is next to a name that means that you can get different results for the same prompt

(Any personal notes will be in parenthesis)

-> An arrow means that the Passwords are found in the previous page

ex- Page with code that translates to "dork"-> Dork

Slashes/mean/that/any/of/the/prompts/listed/will/take/you/to/the/same/page

Blue text with an underline is a link! Haha! would you look at that! it works!

Will Keep this updated as I find more and will Note the logs at the end of this post

?????

For the mason page anagrams I know WHO they are I just don't know WHAT to do with them, i know it says cryptogram codex at the bottom i think i have to do something with the anagram results but I'm unsure what that is. Stanford Pines Stanlie Pines Gideon Charles Gleeful Preston Northwest Pacifica Elisa Northwest

Notes to Dipper Prompt: (Unsure why- Maybe going to Blind eye page and blurring it but changes from dipper being told to stare at the sun to "I THINK ITS WORKING! STARE HARDER! HARDER!" and the page looking burnt I Think it has to do with how many input codes you enter, It now says "you've almost solved it" and is even more burnt than before, it is now full black)

Neat Tv text-

Pines

Blendin

*Triangle

Axolotl

Ducktective

Book of Bill

TJ Eckleburg (Great Gatsby)

Nothing

Something

*Ciphertology

Deer Teeth

Scalene

Scrimbles

No

Fortnite/skibidi/ohio/rizz/crypto/elon/gyatt/Doge

Life

Death

Portal

Question

Answer

Euclid

*Well Well Well Being

Reality

The Universe

Journal 1

Journal 2

Journal 3

Theyll see/They'll all see/I see

Filbrick

Disney/Disneyland/Mickey Mouse

CIA/FBI/NSA

333 Sundapple Lane Cozy Creek IL 60714-94611

Season 3

Season 2

Season 1

Caryn

Euclydia

Skeleton

Who are you

Burnside

Family matters

When will I die

Multilevel mark/caesaratbashvigenere

Scientology

Easter egg

Sevral times

oh yes they both

Am i Blanchin

Bye gold

Youre insane

History

Hologram

Scalene

Euclid

Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Text Chain (You get questions who's answer is another password)

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> 333 sundapple lane cozy creek IL 60714-94611-> MutliLevel mark->emmaline butternubbins->Dispense my treat

What i thought it was (with answer sources):

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Answers found in TBOB- Don't Know, NA, Mcguckets dream page, Medieval page, Anti-Cipher Section- tonic page, Anti Cipher Section- Newspaper, Top Secret page, Textbook page- Skin, Dark Ages Page, Anti Cipher Section-Epilogue, A winter break- footprints page, Book of Bill Cover options page, Never trust a wizard page, Have you dreamed this fellow ad (references informercial in show)

Tab pages-

Abuelita

Dippy Fresh

Alex Hirsch/Alex/Hirsch

*Stan/Stanley (his outfit in ebay searches plus a READABLE with SICK music mind you-Check readable section for more info)

Grunkle Stan

*Gideon (second option unlocked after fully "mableizing" the room)

Waddles

Mcgucket/ Old man McGucket/Fiddleford

Bill/Cipher/LLIB/LLIBREHPIC

Bill Cipher/Rehpic

Zyler (Goes to same place as Craz)

Craz (Goes to same place as Zyler)

Toby Determined

Gravity Falls

Mystery Shack

Not a phase

Blanchin

Peak

Cray Cray

Fixinit1

Meow

Fuck alex/Fuck you alex

Globnar

Monster

Audio/video-

Babba/Discogirl

*Gideon (unlocked after fully "mabelizing" the room)

Tad Strange

Pinata (DEFINATELY WORTH WATCHING)

Vallis Cineris (Found on wall when lightning strikes)

Hey Nerd

Weird (Love him)

Spookemups/Spooky/Scary

That's just a/Theory/Gametheory/Matpat (<3)

One Eyed King-> Naitsuaf (Morse Code) ( early years page)

Forget the past

Im still on your mind

Dorito/Nacho

Just fit in

Rubberhose

Love/Boyfriend

Hectoring

Conspiracy

God/Frillium/Help me

Burned inside

Kook

Kubrick

Small/audio log/music (nothing showed up at first, turned off tv and strange audio played, needs to be reversed)

L is real 2401 (soos my boy)

Readables-

Mason (Dippers real name)

*Dipper (personal notes in ???- keep opening the card to get different results)

Pacifica-> PlatinumPaz

Ford/Standford/Sixer

Wendy

Robbie (def worth a look IMO)

Soos-> Pinata

Cursed (Translated from candle in background)

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Blind Eye->Theyll see (Will blur if clicked on, cannot un-blur, may change dipper?)

Weirdmageddon

Lies

Sorry

Booberry (Decoded from popsicle stick)

Even his lies are lies (Front paper)

Tantrum ( code on Bills Mugshot page)

Suck it Merlin

Shave your Grandma (leads to dippy fresh page)

Baby Bill/baby/lalalalala/daddy/mommy

Owl Trowel

Hotxolotl->Seven eyes-> r34lity

Love ya bro

Fuck/Shit/Fuckyou/bitch/slut/sex

Baaaa-> Black Sheep

naitsuaf (click are you ready-> Sign "pleasure doing business with you -candle light turns blue- OR be a coward (losing sound effect plays)

oroborous-> Frillium

Glass sand beach

math/trigonometry/

horror/creepypasta

destruction is a form of creation

unreality

you can't kill an idea

virus

Occurremusiterum

*Stan (click multiple times to get-once there click "how he beat me several times)

Card

Theraprism

Dionarap->stod eht tcennoc

Printables-

Tyrone/Clone/Paperjam

Curse Wittebane (translates runes on page about witches)

Paper is just book skin ( BE WARNED: automatically downloads a photoshop file and crashses the cite)

Irregular (has code on it)

Divorce/breakup

Other-

Mabel (You get fun stickers and a popping sound :) )

*Giffany ( You put her name in multiple times and it forcibly downloads pictures of her and a text document to your computer, scared me a little Not gonna lie here)

Kings of New Jersey (downloads "secret code" font)

cryptogram codex (downloads cryptogram fonts)

dispense my treat-> Kook (downloads a bunch of cool wallpapers)

Log:

One hour after posting: Added 17 new words

Found by me: Booberry, Mountain Dont, Xgqrthx, titans blood, lyre liar, haralds ramblings, union made

Accidentally found by looking at a post: Sorry

Gifted by replier (Thank you!): MATPAT, yes, no, Fortnite, life, death, portal, question, answer

30 minutes after last update: 9 Words added

Found by me: Theraprism, 29121239168518, Grebley Hemberdreck, Rat, 3466554, Tinsel Snake, Torture Mentally, Fordtramarine, Gun (shocked that worked It was a joke- "bill cipher has A GUN")

Like THREEEEEEE ish hours later?

Found by me: one eyed king, well well well being, shave your grandma, paper is just book skin, even his lies are lies, forget the past, irregular, euclid, tantrum, suck it merlin

Like 12 hours later

Found by me: Reality, Baby Bill, Reality, The universe, Giffany (why is it two Fs, Blarg) They'll see, I'm still on your mind, Journal 1, Journal 2, Journal 3

Gifted to me by a replier (Thank you!): Owl Trowel

Idk- Later

Found by me: hotxolotl, lova ya bro, kings of new jersey, fuck, just fit in

Found on twitter(JasonRitter): Dorito, Blanchin'

Gifted to me by Replier(Thank you!): Gideon's option knowledge

Even MORE later:

Me: Seven eyes, r34ality, filbrick, disney, skibidy, rizz, ohio, love, cia, fbi, rubberhose, 333 sundapple lane cozy creek il 60714-94611, bahhhh, black sheep, naitsuaf, oroborous,theyll see, theyll all see Frillium, occuremusiterum (some of these i gave myself because i was really close but just missed a small detail/spelling)

Taken from here and Here Because I got stumped: Season 3, Season2 , Season 1, Glass shard beach, caryn, Euclydia, Peak, Theory, Cray Cray, Help me, mickey mouse, hectoring, divorce, breakup, skeleton, math, history, monster, gyatt, who are you, fixinit1, conspiracy, riddle, cryptogram codex, horror, creepypasta, trigonometry, god, boyfriend,baby, lalalalala, scary, trigonometry,just blendin, morality, burnside, family matters, when will i die, elon, multilevel mark, goodnight sally,paper jam, tourist trap,the duchess approves,shape, scientology, meow, nacho, crypto,sevral times,easter egg, oh yes they both, daddy, mommy, burned inside, destruction is a form of creation, i see, unreality, you can't kill an idea, am i blanchin, fuck alex, fuck you alex, fuck you, shit, bye gold, nsa, globnar,disneyland,kook, kuibrick,virus,that's just a, you're insane

Next day

Found online: Dionarap, stod eht tcennoc, dispense my treat

[munsonhoneybaby]

Too Much in Common | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader

Summary: After Dustin brings Eddie home for a D&D campaign, you find yourself enjoying his company more frequently than expected.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use (marijuana), smut, kinda automatic dubcon since they're both fried?, fingering, a lil praise, eddie’s just a lil obsessed

A/N: it hasn’t been explicitly stated yet but reader is adopted. hopefully i actually post a part two in a timely manner.

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

The rumbling of Eddie’s van ceased in the Hendersons’ driveway as he turned the key back in the ignition. He was surprised, however, when the metal thrum of a guitar continued despite his radio now being off. Opening his door, he recognized “N.I.B.” by Black Sabbath and realized it was coming from inside, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

He made his way to the front door, not bothering to knock beforehand since Dustin was expecting him and the kid’s mom wasn’t home. “Since when did you get a taste in music, Henderson?” He called over the music blaring from the sound system in the living room. A door around the corner slammed open much more forcefully than necessary and the aforementioned freshman barreled out of his bedroom. 

“It’s my sister!” He shouted back. “She said I could have you guys over while Mom is gone if I didn’t bitch while she was in charge, but APPARENTLY THAT MEANS MAKING ME GO DEAF!” 

Eddie could just barely make out your muttered “oh please” as you entered from the kitchen. You turned down the volume until the sound could be considered background noise. “If anyone here is gonna go deaf, it’s me from your constant shrieking.” Distressed jeans hugged the curve of your waist perfectly and the Poison t-shirt you had on looked soft from numerous wears. He tried not to stare, but he was sure he looked like a cartoon character– bugging, heart-shaped eyes and jaw hitting the floor. He almost missed it when you acknowledged him. “Munson. I heard you were still running Hellfire. Didn’t realize you’d be coming today.”

Oh fuck. You knew him. You knew him? How did you know him? Of course, you had gone to the same school, everybody in Hawkins did, but he would remember meeting a girl like you. Would you be upset with him for not knowing who you are? God, already embarrassing himself and he hasn’t even started talk–

“Relax,” You snorted. “I was a grade under you at Hawkins and I was homeschooled my senior year. We never talked, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me. I’m pretty sure everybody knows about you, though.” And this is when you tell him to get out of your house and stay away from your kid brother because he’s a drug-dealing, Satan-worshipping freak. “It’s nice you’re still running the D&D club, sounds like everything else there gets worse every year.” 

Some of the tension in his muscles slipped away and he realized he’d been subtly bracing himself. “Oh–” The doorbell rang and Dustin ran to get it, welcoming in Mike and Lucas who were already amicably bickering louder than necessary. Behind them trailed the two others they had ridden with, Jeff and Gareth if you remembered correctly. They seemed a little uncomfortable holding a session in a new house, but relaxed drastically when they set eyes on Eddie. “Uh– you guys can go ahead down to the basement with the freshmeat. I’ll be down in a sec, alright?” They nodded, waving politely to you before following the boys.

When they were gone, you and Eddie locked eyes again. “Seriously, I’m glad Dusty has someone watching out for him. He takes more shit than he deserves. Just try to be a good role model, alright? If I find out you give that kid Special K or some shit, it’s fucking over for you. Got it?”

“I would never let anything bad happen to those kids when they’re with me,” He spoke earnestly. “I’m gonna look out for them. If I’m ever gonna do anything right, it’s that.”

“I believe you, Munson.” You gave him a small smile and nodded towards the basement door. “You should probably get going. They can’t start the game without their dungeon master, right?”

An embarrassed flush fought its way up his neck to his cheeks as you turned towards the hall where your bedroom was. Before you could get more than a couple of steps though, he gently grasped your wrist. “Hey uh, by the way– I just wanted you to know that I don’t really– I don’t do any hard stuff anymore. Haven’t in a while. I hardly even sell it anymore and I stopped selling to first-timers.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, don’t worry about it. I totally get it, I just wanted to let you know; for your peace of mind, I guess. You deserve to know who your baby brother’s hanging around with, I don’t want you to think I’m too bad an influence.”

“I don’t think you’re too bad, Munson. Just a healthy amount.” You gave his own wrist a small squeeze as you slipped your hand from his and finally went back to your own room. He gazed after you momentarily, even after your door had closed. If the guys were still present, they would definitely be giving him shit.

As if on cue, he heard Dustin’s muffled shout from the basement. “Eddie, hurry the hell up!”

You were sitting on the front porch swing lighting a joint when his beat-up van pulled up two nights later. “Seek & Destroy” poured from his cracked-open windows until his door opened and he set foot on your driveway once again. “He’s not here, y’know,” You called to him.

“That’s alright, I actually just needed to–” Eddie was halfway between you and his van when he caught a whiff of a particularly familiar scent. A shocked, teasing grin slowly spread across his face. “Henderson, are you smoking marijuana right now?” 

In spite of yourself, you let out a laugh, coughing around a lungful of smoke in the process. “Say it a little louder, Munson, I don’t think the deafening Metallica got the neighbors’ attention.” 

Laughing, he dropped into the space next to you on the swing. “I didn’t peg you for the smoking type.”

“Oh, you mean from the three minutes we interacted?” You squinted playfully but held the joint out to him. “Just weed, I don’t fuck with anything else personally.”

He took you up on the offer, calloused fingertips brushing your skin as he took the joint from you. Examining it for a moment, he smirked as he took a hit. “Fuckin’ with it pretty hard, apparently,” He breathed out. “You roll almost as good as I do.”

“Good, then you can roll the next one.” It passes between you as you speak, though Eddie tries to keep his turns short out of courtesy. “Which brings us back to the topic of why you’re here mooching my shit. You said you needed to do something?”

“Right, I uh- I forgot my lucky dice here the other night. I figured I’d pick ‘em up on my way home from The Hideout.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re in a band or something, right?” 

“Since middle school,” He nodded, “Just me and a few guys from school, s’called Corroded Coffin.”

“Sounds metal.”

“We try to,” He chuckled.

“You like Black Sabbath and Metallica, you’d better,” You teased. You didn’t notice the way his eyes followed your every move as you smoked. The way your cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as you sucked in a hit, how your breath hitched and your eyes fell closed as you held it in. The corners of his lips curled up in amusement watching you blow Os while conversation lulled for a moment. Offering him one last hit first, you stub out the roach on the ground and stand from your seat. “C’mon in, you can go get your dice.”

“Thanks,” He hummed, grabbing the door as soon as it was open to hold it for you. 

“Have you eaten?” You ask, heading into the kitchen as he made his way toward the basement door. “I haven’t, I was gonna make a sandwich or something. You want one?”

“That’d be great, actually, thank you.” The dice weren’t hard to find seeing as he’d left them there on purpose. So maybe it was a little weird, definitely a little desperate, but he wanted to make sure he had another opportunity to see you– get his foot in the door, so to speak– and he really hadn’t expected all this. He’d hoped you’d be the one to answer the door and he’d get to make small talk for a few minutes, point out your shared taste in music maybe, but this? Catching you alone, sharing a joint, getting invited in for something to eat? This was going better than he could’ve possibly expected.

“Find ‘em?” You called down.

“Yup!” He jogged back up the stairs, waving the small velvet bag as he joined you in the kitchen. “All good.”

“What a relief. Can’t have the dungeon master thrown off his game, that would be a travesty.” You glanced up at him mischievously as you finished making the first sandwich, scooting the plate across the counter to him.

Eddie suppressed a smile, shaking his head as he picked up the sandwich. “You just love teasin’ me with that, don’t you?” He asked before he took what was probably an unattractively large bite.

“Depends on what kind of teasing we’re talking about, Munson.” You drawled casually in return, turning to continue making your own. Meanwhile, it was an effort just for him to keep his food in his mouth without choking on it. You were flirting with him.

Weren’t you? Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d meant it the other way around– that you’d only tease him in a joking way and that you’d never want to–

“Eddie, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears,” You snorted. “Stop thinking so hard, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” You took a big bite before grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Want one?” His answer was going to be yes, but you were grabbing him one before he had responded anyway. There was a brief and fairly comfortable silence as you cleaned up the rest of your small mess and he took a few long swigs of his water. “Wanna finish these in my room? We could smoke another joint maybe…just chill out, I don’t know…”

“Yeah, totally,” He agreed, maybe a little too eagerly.

“You’re rolling though,” You remind him over your shoulder as he begins to follow you to your bedroom.

The door creaked as you opened it, waiting for him to enter after you so you could close it. As you opened the window wide and lit a stick of incense, he took in his surroundings. Your room wasn’t like the average teenage girl’s– not that Eddie had seen very many of those– not pastel-colored, or frilly, or covered in heartthrob posters, though a few stuffed animals were perched tenderly on your bed. Actually, it was almost more like his, albeit much more organized. There were posters of horror movies and rock bands filling a decent amount of the empty space on your walls, the Dio flag pinned to the ceiling drawing his attention. “Oh, that is so sick!”

“I thought you might like some ‘a this stuff,” You laughed softly. Nodding towards the stereo in the corner, you continued, “You can put something on if you want.” He squatted down to look through your cassettes, hearing your voice move through the room as you got out your bud, tray, and paper. “Try to keep it understated though, alright? Nothing too hard or fast right now.”

“Really tryin’ to mellow out tonight, huh?” He began playfully, but looked back at you as his tone softened a little. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, I’m alright,” You reassure. With the cassette in place, he made sure the volume was low before it began playing softly as you spoke. “I just get a little too pent up sometimes, you know? Everything’s just been kind of a lot lately, ‘s why I was already smoking when you showed up.”

“Hey, I can beat it if you want. I didn’t mean to show up outta the blue at a bad time and I definitely don’t have to stick around if you don’t want me here. I can totally get it if you want the time to yourself–”

“Please stay,” You quietly interrupted, then seemed a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t– I’d appreciate the company if you wanna stay a little while.”

Eddie gave you a comforting smile before taking a seat at your vanity to roll the joint, trying to lighten the mood. “Careful what you wish for, Henderson. I mean, you’ve got good music, good weed, made me dinner; I might be hangin’ around here more often with this kinda treatment. You’ve got me livin’ the life, babe.”

Laying down on your bed to watch him, your voice was more serious than he expected when you replied. “You’re welcome any time, you know. Mom likes when the house is busy and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Dustin practically worships the ground you walk on.” His rings glinted in the lamplight as he carefully sprinkled the bud onto the paper.

“Yeah? And what’s your review, hm?” You didn’t mean to stare at the way his lips wrapped around the joint or how his tongue traced the seam of the paper to seal it.

You hummed vaguely as he finished up, gently plucking it from between his fingers when he was done. Dramatically inspecting it much longer than he had yours, you finally say, “You roll clean joints.”

He shakes his head and laughs. Your lips close around the paper, feeling the seam still damp with his spit, and you jut your chin toward his lighter on the vanity. Grabbing it without a word, he leans forward to give you a light. Your gaze catches on his rings once more before lifting to his face again. A reflection of the flame makes the brown of his eyes warmer as they lock with yours, looking up from where you still lay on the bed on your stomach. You take a long pull as he draws the lighter away again and the spell is broken.

Sitting up to breathe the smoke in deeper, you tuck your knees under you. Eddie joins you on your bed, but not before he kicks off his shoes by the bedroom door. He sits cross-legged just in front of your pillows so you shuffle around to face him. “So, how was your concert?”

He snorted, “Concert might be a bit heavy. Gig is a little more accurate. Show maybe.”

You roll your eyes, but keep your tone light and pass the joint. “You’re a loser, you know that? You knew exactly what I was talking about, answer the question.”

“It was pretty good I guess,” He shrugged and took a long hit. “I think there may have been a whole seven people this time. And one of them was even sober!”

You smiled sympathetically, “You’re just in the wrong town. Don’t worry, I’ll come watch you play. I don’t know if that’d be a good atmosphere for the boys, but I could probably force Steve, Nancy, and Robin to come.

He twisted one of his rings around his finger for a moment. “That’s really nice, sweetheart.”

With each toke you both took, the joint burned slightly shorter until it was almost completely gone. “You want the last hit?” you asked. “I finished the last one. And you rolled this one anyway.”

“No, that’s alright. It’s your weed; I’m literally a drug dealer, I’ve got plenty at home.”

“Here,” You took one last long drag and he raised an eyebrow in confusion, but he understood when you sat up further on your knees and leaned toward him. A sense of giddy excitement overtook him for a second, nerves probably heightened from the weed, but he kept his composure. When your lips slotted over his, he took a deep breath in. His hand slid into your hair to keep your head steady as you sighed the smoke into his mouth. Your lips grazed over his afterward, very obviously lingering long after it was necessary. You giggled as you slumped down into a laying position, letting your head fall back into his lap.

“Seems like someone’s a lot more relaxed now,” He cooed playfully.

“Sorry, I can get off ‘f you–” He notices how your voice is slightly rougher after smoking so much.

“Hey, no–” His hands settle warmly over your shoulders, not holding you down so much as they were encouraging you to stay put. “It’s alright, baby. You can get comfy, you’re not bothering me.”

His hands soothed up and down your arms as you settled back in. “That feels really nice.” You hummed quietly and it drew out into another giggle, “Everything feels really nice.”

He laughs a little airily himself, “It does, doesn’t it?” Your skin felt so soft and warm beneath his fingertips, tracing imaginary shapes along the bare flesh of your arms. “‘M feelin’ pretty good, myself.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his pretty pink lips again. They’d felt so soft against yours and you wanted more– to really feel him this time. His thumb brushes your chin, dragging down in a way that had your mouth opening slightly. “What’re you thinkin’ so hard about, sweet thing?”

Blinking up at him with glassy eyes, you raised an arm to brush your fingers over his flushed cheek. “Eddie, c’n you kiss me? Please?”

“Yeah?” He moved his thumb a bit higher to tug your lower lip down a bit, face dipping down a bit closer to yours. “That what you want?” You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, making him chuckle quietly. 

He allowed his lips to graze teasingly over yours, just barely touching, before finally kissing you. His nose brushed your chin and you could feel the small smile adorning his face before your lower lip was sucked softly between his. Fingers winding into his mess of frizzy curls, you moaned quietly into his mouth and pulled him closer. After another moment though, he slowly drew back, lips separating from yours with a soft smack that made you unreasonably desperate for more.

An ache had sparked in his lower back while loading the amps into the van after their show earlier that evening, deepening as he proceeded to help load the rest of the equipment afterward. Now the deep curve he had molded it to in order to keep his mouth on yours had the pain radiating up his entire back. “As much as I’m enjoying this– and believe me, babe, I’m seriously enjoying it– my back is kinda killin’ me and hunching over you like this…” 95% of his brain was screaming at him to shut the fuck up, to ignore it and just keep kissing you breathless anyway, but the other 5% was crying out to lay down and he had to listen.

“Oh, sorry,” There was a slight pant in your voice as you released your grasp on his hair. He sat up slowly as if a movement too fast would shatter the calm in the air. You sat up yourself, watching as he eased himself back onto your pillows. “S’that better?”

“Way better,” He confirmed. “We can uh- we could keep kissing if you want.”

Openly cringing at how awkward that sounded, he opened his mouth to say something else before you interrupted him with a still-sluggish giggle. “I’d like that, Eddie.”  

“Okay,” He nodded rapidly. 

Leaning forward onto your hands and knees, you crawled into his lap. His hands instantly settled on your thighs, running up and down the material of your pajama pants. His eyes flickered wildly over your body a few times before gazing up at you in awe. You didn’t waste any time in kissing him again, which was much easier now that he wasn’t upside down. As you moaned into his mouth, his hands molded to your hips, squeezing and pulling you as tight to him as he could get you. His tongue slipped between your lips, making them open further as your hands found his hair once again. 

He didn’t mean to start moving, slowly grinding into you in an attempt to relieve the tightness in his jeans that definitely wasn’t a problem before he came over— but then you were rocking down on him yourself, clothed cunt rubbing against him in a desperate search for friction. Hips rutting up into yours, he braced a palm against your lower back. You could feel his hardness pressing into you through the layers of clothing between you. Pulling back for air, you panted into his mouth, still subtly grinding against him. “Fuck,” He grunted quietly. The soft whimper of his name that you gave him in return made his head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Got me so fuckin’ hard, sweet thing. Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t wanna stop,” You whined back quietly. “Feels so good.” 

“Good,” He cooed. “Don’t worry, ‘m gonna keep makin’ you feel good.” Hot, open-mouthed kisses moved down your neck and you let out a moan. His fingers wormed their way past the hem of your shirt, tracing the cup of your bra. “This okay?” He mumbled against your skin. Nodding, you cupped his hand and guided it higher until he pushed your bra out of the way. The pad of his thumb brushed firmly over your nipple, making your hips jerk against his. “Mmm, so sensitive. Is that jus’ the weed or are you always like this?”

“Both,” You breathed out. “‘N you’re good at all this.”

“Aw you don’t have to butter me up, baby,” He grinned. “I’m gonna make you cum either way.” Free hand dipping past the waistband of your pajama pants, Eddie continued playfully, “But, go on. Keep tellin’ me how much I turn you on.”

“Eddie,” You pleaded, “C’mon.” 

Fingers stroking the damp fabric of your underwear, he asked, “This okay? Really want me to touch you?” Your desperate nods made his lips curl, pressing more firmly against you and drawing out a moan that you tried to stifle. “No, no, no, you gotta tell me how it feels, sweet thing. We’re all alone, you can make those pretty noises, it’s okay.”

Your head slumped into the crook of his neck, mouthing lazily at his skin. Nudging your underwear to the side, he sank his middle finger knuckle-deep into you. Grasping tightly at the worn material of his t-shirt, your breath hitched. “Mmm, fuck– yes, Eddie, thank you.”

“Look at you, usin’ your manners ‘n everything. Of course, you would. Such a good girl.” Your moans only grew louder, making his hips jerk in search of friction. “So warm and wet, bet you’d feel so good around my cock.” Lifting your head to kiss him again, your hand found the shape of his length in his jeans. He rolled his thumb over your clit in circles as his hips rocked against your palm. Mouths open against each other’s, you exchanged panting breaths and muffled moans. Confined by your pants, his hand didn’t have much room for movement, leaving your hips stuttering frustratedly. “Lemme get these off’a you, babe. Can make you feel so much better than this.”

Suddenly, his hand was curled under your thigh and you let out a small squeal as you were flipped onto your back beneath him. Your pants and underwear were yanked down your legs feverishly, Eddie parting them to slip two fingers into you this time. “Shit, Eds!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Immediately, he tried to withdraw his hand, but you gripped his wrist to stop him. 

“Don’t stop, Eddie. Please, don’t stop,” You rushed.

“Alright, sweetheart, ‘m right here. Don’t worry.” Your hands laced into his hair for stability as his fingers crooked into a spot that almost made your eyes cross. Already dripping onto your bedspread, you pulled him even closer to you. Smirk spreading across his face, he said, “Oh yeah. That’s the spot, huh, baby?”

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re gonna make me come,” You whined.

“Good, want you to soak my fingers.” His hips rocked forward, clothed cock grinding into the back of your thigh. “Wanna feel you come for me.” The way his thumb rubbed so firmly against your clit had heat shooting all the way to your toes. Desperately tugging him down for another kiss, your thighs trembled as they squeezed closed around his hand. “There it is,” He murmured lowly against your lips. “Mmm, you’d feel so fuckin’ good coming around my cock, sweet thing.” The deep cadence of his voice had you shaking.

Grasping at the back of his shirt, you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He held you in silence for a long moment until your head eventually dropped back against the bed. A smile slowly grew on your face as you looked up at him and you let out a small giggle, making him grin down at you. He laughed softly too as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

Eyes darting shortly to the alarm clock on your nightstand, you did a double-take when you noticed how late it was. “Son of a bitch, my mom’s gonna be home any minute!” You grabbed your discarded underwear and pajama pants from the foot of the bed as soon as Eddie had peeled himself off of you. “Uh– fuck, I’m really sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to invite you in just for this, I just didn’t realize how late it got. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, but–”

“Are you kidding?” He was already leaning against the wall by your door, slipping on his beat-up air forces. “I had a blast, babe. We should do this again sometime,” He winked teasingly.

You rolled your eyes half-heartedly, feeling your body warm. When the two of you reached the front door, you rubbed your arm and met his eyes only a bit awkwardly. “I’m sorry again about not…returning the favor.”

He chuckled, giving you a small smirk. “Don’t worry about me, sweet thing. After tonight, I’ll have no trouble taking care of it myself.” Taking a step closer to you, he leaned down for a kiss that was much slower and softer than the last few you’d shared. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Night, Eddie. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

“Anytime.”

You waited at the door until he’d gotten in his van and driven away before finally heading back to your room. As soon as you closed your bedroom door and flopped down on your bed, you heard your mom’s car pull into the driveway. Meanwhile, Eddie drove home, foot a little heavy on the gas pedal as he itched to get back to his own room.

He didn’t see you again for two weeks. He knew the Hendersons’ phone number, but there was no way he could ask for you if Dustin or your mom picked up. So he waited, very impatiently mind you, and hoped he hadn’t ruined things by going so far with you so fast. 

When he did finally see you, it was at Hawkins High School. You’d come to pick Dustin up from that week’s Hellfire club meeting. You knocked on the door before entering, knowing that– despite the session being scheduled to end ten minutes ago– they often ran over their allotted time. Sure enough, you heard Eddie’s booming voice as you cracked open the door and slipped inside.

“And as the chimera flew closer–” When he noticed you he immediately straightened from his position looming over the table, clearing his throat and clasping his hands together behind his back. He didn’t want to scare you off with all this yet. “Okay gentlemen, that’s all for today.” The collective groan they let out had you feeling a bit guilty, they’d obviously been enjoying themselves, and now you were being the annoying big sister; you should’ve just waited in the car. But Eddie was quick to speak again. “Oh, cut the moaning. We’re almost fifteen minutes over and you all need more time to prepare for battle anyway. Amateurs.”

As the others all packed up their things, he approached you and you greeted him with a smile. “Sorry for interrupting, seemed pretty intense, I hope it wasn’t too important.”

“No, no, it’s good you came in. We would’ve been all caught up until someone else came in to stop us in a much less forgiving manner.” You both laughed and it went quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat again. “So uh, I’ve been hoping I’d see you around.”

“Yeah, me too… Smoking alone isn’t as fun anymore.”

His lips quirked up into a smirk and he nodded playfully. “Yeah, ‘ve been thinking the same. You should start buying from me, you know. I’ll give you a discount.”

“Oh, so I have to pay you to smoke with you again? You know, we used my shit last time,” You teased.

“You’ll never pay for anything you smoke when you’re with me, sweetheart. I’m a gentleman after all. Here, hang on.” He dashed back to the table, hunching over to write something down before tearing off the small scrap of paper and coming back to you. “Now you can get a hold ‘a me, come smoke all my weed anytime.”

“Oh, I’ll be taking you up on that.”

Your comfortable conversation was interrupted when Dustin shouted your name. “What’re you doing? Let’s go!”

“I’ll see you around, Munson.”

“Sure thing, Henderson.” 

As you drove Dustin home, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad idea to get involved with Eddie. He was one of Dustin’s best friends now, a mentor for him, one of the only male role models he’s had aside from Steve since he lost his father. The last thing you wanted was to make Dustin feel like you were taking that away from him. God forbid something should happen between you and Eddie and he doesn’t feel comfortable coming around anymore. You couldn’t do that to him. 

Still, you found yourself hunkered over the phone in the living room that night. You tried to hold out, you really did, but you only managed to hold yourself back until almost midnight after your family had gone to bed. Coiling the cord around your finger, you waited impatiently as the phone rang three times.

When he finally picked up, you could hear the smirk in his tone. “Hi, sweet thing. Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Well, I figured I was running low on bud anyway,” You drawled quietly. 

“You’re awful quiet,” He teased. “Don’t want Mommy to catch you up on the phone so late?”

“Fuck off,” You scoffed playfully. “If you’re having so much trouble hearing me over the phone, why don’t you come over?”

“Oh, so she minds a phone call, but it’s okay if we have a sleepover?” He snorted. 

“No, but if you’re quiet you can sneak in and back out before she wakes up to get ready for work. I’ve got twenty bucks calling your name,” You cooed enticingly.

“Seriously?”

"Come on, Munson, you've never climbed through a girl's window before? I'm disappointed."

He simply replied, "I'll be there in fifteen, make sure it's unlocked."

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

<3

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[rinhaler]

MORE UNCLE NANAMI PLEASIEEEE PLEASE 🥺🥺🥺🥺👉🏽👈🏽

++ 𝐡𝐢𝐢, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲/𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 🙈 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐤𝐬𝐣

It's been a while since I did any nanamin stuff hehe (combining two reqs bc u both don't have anything specific heheheee)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, incest, fem!reader, uncle!nanamin, fingering, exhibitionism, public sex ig, squirting, pet names (sweetheart, princess, angel, baby).

words: 1.1k

“W-Wow…” you muse, taking in the decadent atmosphere of the restaurant.

You’ve seldom been to places like this, like when your favourite uncle decides to treat you and your mother to a nice meal when he’s in town. But even then, there is a stark difference from the restaurants back home in the village you live in. It’s magnificent. You may have experienced a similar setting before, but never on a date.

A date with that very same uncle, nonetheless.

“You like it, sweetheart? I’m glad.” he tells you, taking your hand as you're guided by the maître d' to your table. He looks over the top of his menu as he studies your face. You’re so precious, that’s what he thinks as you look over the options and realise you don’t understand what any of them are. “I’ll order for you.” he assures you, taking the menu from your hand and setting it down.

You feel yourself get warmer, a little embarrassed that he picked up on your cluelessness so easily. But you smile, regardless, thanking him.

You’ve been so excited for this little trip since you first heard about it.

“Uncle Nanami wants to know if you’d like to spend the weekend with him?” your mother asked/told you. And, bless her, she had no idea what that would entail.

It’s been months since you’ve seen him. You were hardly surprised when your ankles were practically behind your ears as he drilled his cock in and out of your puffy, slicked up folds, the minute he got you to his house.

You’d been drenched the entire train ride.

“You look so pretty tonight, princess.” he tells you, cupping your face so sweetly with a rough, masculine hand. His singular hand is almost the size of your entire face. He coos at you as your eyelids become heavier, leaning in to place a delicate kiss on your cheek. “I’m so happy you’re here with me. Hopefully your mother won’t object to this being a regular thing.” he smiles.

You’ve been squirming in your seat since before your main course arrived. The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, you forget how naughty your uncle Nanamin can be. Your panties are once again entirely soaked through. He’d mentally noted how much you were wriggling around, though he chose not to comment on it. Not until—

“Can’t sit still for five minutes, hm? What’s wrong?” he asks.

“N-Need you…” you whisper, putting your head down to avert his intense stare. Though you’re soon looking at him again as he tilts your head up by your chin, forcing you to hold his gaze.

“What was that, angel? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Need you… uncle Nanamin, need you real bad.” you pout. And at that, he smirks. You’re a little taken aback as his hand lowers beneath the table. Here? Right here? Your heart pounds as you look around at the other clueless restaurant patrons. This is so unlike him. He’s always so upstanding and discreet. But—

“My my, sweet little girl. You are soaked.” he comments as his fingers breach the hemline of your cotton panties. You bite your lip as his fingers drag up and down the length of your slit. He shushes you as your eyes well with tears, shame and pleasure wrack through you as he finds your slippery clit. And he targets it, skilfully. “Be good for me, be so good for me. If you make a single sound, I won’t touch you for the remainder of the weekend. Do you understand?”

You take his words literally, only nodding as he awaits your answer. It’s near impossible, though, when he makes you feel so good like this. Even with just a few pathetic rubs on your clit, your eyes begin to roll back.

“Na— Nanamin,” you do your best to whisper, his name leaving your lips as a ghoulish gasp. He shushes you, quietly, but it’s loud enough to make a statement. His eyebrows furrow, and you can’t tell if it’s anger or disappointment. You think you’ll die if he stops, though his ministrations haven’t ceased yet. Maybe you were quiet enough to test the boundaries of what he actually meant.

He doesn’t want you to cause a scene.

“Kiss me, please.” you whisper again. And that softens his features. He pities you, you think, although that assumption proves wrong as he indulges you. He closes the distance between you without letting up his gentle yet purposeful touches on your pretty pearl. You’re a little surprised when you feel his tongue enter your mouth, something you’ve never known him to do in public before. “I— I love you.”

“Yeah?” he smiles into your kiss before he breaks it completely. “You’re so close, you’re shaking. Let me see how much you love me. Cum for your favourite uncle, sweetheart, go on.” he instructs you.

He holds one of your hands with his free one while your other one curls into your seat. Your knuckles turn white as you finish, legs trembling and clamping around his hand as you douse his fingers. You can’t believe he’s made you squirt in public. Embarrassment rises through you once more, and you’ve never felt such a scorching temperature in your life.

You look around to see if anyone has noticed, while Nanami withdraws his hand and crosses his ankle over his knee. You watch him as he sucks his fingers clean of the mess, your mess, with a look of contentment on his face. You, however, are panting heavily while you rest your head in one hand on the table. You’re slumped over, and you couldn’t feel more self-conscious.

You don’t exactly look like you belong here.

“Would you be interested in some dessert?” a waiter asks as he approaches, though his question almost evaporates as he looks at you. Your sweat coated skin and your mussed up hair catches him off guard. Your irregular breathing makes him worry for your well-being. “Are you alright, Miss? You look…” he finds himself at a loss of what to even say. He knows he needs to be polite, but you almost look ill.

“She’s fine, just a little warm and worked up.” your dear uncle intervenes, smiling at the waiter graciously as he interlocks his fingers and rests his chin atop them. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart? I’m sure you’ll cool down after some ice cream.”

You nod, doing what you can to pull yourself together. You’d hate to embarrass your favourite uncle, after all. What if he doesn’t invite you back to do this again?

“Wonderful, sir.” the waiter smiles as he holds up a pad of paper with a pen to take your dessert orders. “You make a lovely couple, by the way.” you aren’t sure if he’s being polite out of obligation to his job, or if he genuinely feels that way. But you and your uncle share a knowing smile with each other, and yours only grows wider as he brushes a fallen section of hair out of your face.

“We aren’t a couple.” he starts. “I’m her uncle.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[tourturestarradio]

𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄

“𝐈’𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐫.’”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Prompt: Deadpool/Wade Wilson x kind reader x Wolverine/Logan Howlet, Y/n had a bad day, Logan offers to relieve some stress but you both were interrupted by Wade.

Warnings:, p in v, oral (reader receiving), riding, fingering, finger sucking, Wade and Logan bickering, sex toy used, annoyed reader

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

You looked at the snarky man in front of you “sir I’m sorry but…” the man shouted over you “for the last time lady my daughter’s wedding is tomorrow! I need these cupcakes!” You dropped your head clenching your fists. 

“Sir please stop shouting, I know you need those cupcakes but you never placed an order for them I’m sorry” you sighed, the male pointed a finger at you “you can just whip up a couple before tomorrow or are you too fucking dumb to do that as well!” You could feel your eyes water as he continued to spit insults at you. 

“I-I’m sorry sir, but..but I can’t I have a ton of other orders to d-do…” you muttered quickly wiping away your tears “you bitch god you’re useless-“ “hey!” The man turned around looking to see who was talking.

Logan stood there with a mean scowl “better watch your fucking tone when you’re talking to my woman.” He stated gruffly, you wiped away your tears seeing as the male stared at him “this pathetic bitch is your girl?” Logan punched the male in the face before grabbing his collar in an instant his blade was held up to his neck “you deaf you dumb fuck?” 

You hurried from behind the counter stopping him “Logan! It’s fine, it’s fine just let him go please…” the man looked frightened, Logan kept him his eyes trained on him “Logan please this day has been hard enough.” You stated, reluctantly he let go.

The man scrambled to get away from Logan. You sighed “thank you…I’ll be leaving in a bit” you hummed, Logan looked at you “you can’t just leave now?” You shook your head “I’ll be fine, and I’ll be home soon.” You sighed rubbing the back of your neck.

Logan kisses the top of your head then left “I was coming to pick you up, walk you home so you didn’t have to worry about dicks like that ” you nodded “and thanks for that but I’ll be okay” you smiled. 

He looked at you “…fine…” he left leaving you to get back to work. 

.

You walked to Wade’s and Logan’s shared apartment knocking slowly you waited for him to answer the door. When he opened the door you practically jumped on him, he caught you his hands holding your back.

He felt you press your lips against his feverishly, he kisses back of course but after a few seconds he pulled away “Logan…please…please take care of me” you whined today was a terrible day you needed your day to end right or you were going to pop a blood vessel.

Logan tilted his head “that bad huh, want me to make it better?” You nodded your head “don’t worry I’ve got you sweetheart” in an instant he had lifted you off the ground hooking his arms under your legs as he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. 

Placing you down onto the bed you slid off your clothes as Logan did the same “never seen you so needy before” he smirked, you were left in your underwear and bra “just fuck me already” you whined, Logan’s eyes dragged across your body “hopefully these weren’t your favorite set” he commented one of his claws dragging up your leg making you shiver and start to close your legs. 

His larger hand stopped you “keep these nice and open for me sweetheart” his blade dragged against your underwear cutting them off of you, he did the same with your bra. Retracting his blade he ducked his head down between your legs, and just like that you felt all your problems melt away as his tongue flicked against your folds. 

Your hands instantly went to his hair gripping it tightly, “ngh, feels so…good” your thighs squeezed around his head “more….more please!” Your hips grind against his face, you gasped in delight as you felt him push two fingers into your dripping pussy. 

Your moans grew louder as Logan worked wonders on you his ego growing bigger upon hearing you moan his name like it was the only thing you knew, but he didn’t want you to just get off on him eating you out so after a few seconds he pulled away  causing you to whine in frustration. 

Logan placed one last kiss to your dripping g heat “come on I’ve got something much better for you” he hummed, carefully undoing his belt buckle you licked your lips seeing just how hard he was. Your hands grabbed his shoulders “wanna…wanna ride” you groaned, he raised a brow “oh do you?” You nodded again. 

He cupped your cheek “come baby use your words” his thumb dragged across your bottom lip, your tongue peeked through your lips as you took it in your mouth making eye contact with him. He groaned “fuck, the things you do to me”

“Please, Logan…please. I wanna ride you…please” you begged, a smirk grew on his face as he flipped you both over so you were on top of him. 

You hovered above his cock a lust filled look in your eyes. Sinking down onto his cock you squeezed your eyes shut “fuck…so big ah” you moaned, you stayed in place for a moment before slowly bouncing up and down. 

Logan held your hips low groans left his mouth, “that’s it baby, fuck eyes on me” you felt on top of the world right now as Logan rubbed your hips “so good!” Bouncing up and down you grabbed his hand placing it on your breast. Logan let you use him as you please, he want to make you feel good without that annoying fuck in his ear.

He pinched your pierced nipple causing you to clench around him “fuck…so good…you make me feel so good!” You moaned tossing your head back. 

Logan smirked “yeah?” You nodded your head rapidly “yes! Yes!” Your nails scratched down his chest “fuck you’re hot when you do that!” You both froze looking over to the doorway seeing Wade standing there “wow where was my invite? Just gonna have all the fun without me how cruel” he said placing his hand over his heart.

Logan rolled his eyes “you gotta be fucking kidding.” He huffed, Wade came over “what come on peanut I can make her feel good too!” Logan clicked his tongue “yeah but not as good.” You deadpanned your high starting to where off. 

“Oh yeah sure, I’ll have you know! I made her cum four times with only my tongue! You haven’t made her cum once as far as I can tell” he stated crossing his arms, Logan carefully pulled you off of him “yeah fuckin right we were doing just fine before your dumbass ruined everything.” Logan huffed you sat there growing annoyed.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ You thought to yourself watch as they argued. Standing up you slid on one of Logan’s shirt that was laying around and got up “and I’m sure the readers would agree I’m better than you! I mean look at the likes and repost I get compared to you!” Logan scoffed “the fuck are you talking about?!” 

You were usually so sweet when they started to argue like this, calmly defusing the situation but you were just to over it.

“Will you both just shut your fucking mouths?” They both hushed looked at you “Jesus Christ, I don’t like either of you right now cause you’re both acting like fucking dickwads. I mean complaining who fucks me better are you kidding me?!” You grabbed your things and left the room Wade quick to follow you as Logan got on his clothes as fast as he could.

“Wait, wait, wait where are you going!” You opened the front door walking out into the hallway “home.” You slammed the door causing the two men to sigh in disappointment “you’re a fucking idiot.” Logan huffed.

Walking into your apartment you went into your room going into your closet, moving aside some folded clothes and shoes you grabbed a box opening it you grabbed the biggest one you saw “guess there is a use to you after all” grabbing the bottle of lube you shut the box and hid it back in your closet.

“A least you can treat me good without any repercussions.” You hummed.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: *amazing caption*

[sysig]

what's your favorite part about making art?

Getting it out of my head (lol)

To give a more complete answer haha, each step has its own charm! Sketching is nice to have it Out of me, alleviates the itch of having a Thought or Feeling that just needs to be Out and onto paper already

If I'm drawing digitally, lining has gotten rather meditative, or if my sketches are particularly scribbly then it's like a puzzle haha

Toning on paper is a fun exercise in tool usage - I have specific pencils I switch back and forth between to get The Effect I'm looking for, or filling in with the same pencil for the whole piece is nice to just have it done all at once, it's satisfying both ways

Editing has kinda fallen by the wayside for me lately (as evidenced by my lack of uploads - I keep wanting to share, but there's a stopper in my brain that says "No, they're Not Done!" which is like......half correct? It's done when I say it's done, but they haven't been edited "properly" so) but it also has its good points! It took a bit to find the fun again because editing is definitely Not my favourite part of the process - it's not Creative or Exciting or Expressive in the same way as the other steps but it is something I can do for my art that makes it appear how my hand, eye, and brain want it to - my hand is messy, my eye is very particular, and my brain parses between the two, takes away the lines that muddle the final image until there's only The Picture left :) And sometimes it's all I have the energy for! Sometimes all I can do is take my backlog and make it pretty rather than make something new - but it's still Making Art :)

The only part I really don't like is scanning lol, it's just annoying, why can't my pictures be uploaded in perfect quality directly from my sketchbook to my computer haha

And most of this is to do with drawing since it's still my main art form, but a lot of the same applies to writing and papercraft and whatever else I try my hand at - it's nice to Have and Do and see where it gets me :)

I'm doing well! I've been writing more than - ever? I think? I think this is officially my up-to-now peak of Finished Writing by wordcount and time spent on it lol, it's been very fun!! And also a little overwhelming haha I still haven't quite found a New Normal about it, it being The Most haha, but I want to work towards that balance! More practice means more time to implement it so lol

[creepswrites]

Dear, writter

May i've a request for Thomas hewitt, Bubba Sawyer,bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, and Vince Sinclair, With a hot wife fem reader, I want to see their life being a father to a hot fem reader. Because that is my dream. 💫Fluff💫

Please.... Your writing is so gorgeous 💋💋 master 🌹🌹🌹

Thank you so much

From your followers:

@kawaistrawberry21

awww i'm glad you like my writing!! hopefully you enjoy this :D

SLASHERS with a F! S/O who is their hot wife

THOMAS HEWITT

Everyone in town was shocked when you and Thomas got married

Thomas included but he never said anything about it

His family thought you were way out of his league, Hoyt was never afraid to comment on this to your face

But you love Thomas, he was a good man

So when he'd finally, finally, proposed to you, of course you'd said yes

When he found out you were having his child? He was over the moon

Luda May was almost as overjoyed, already making arrangements for the baby's room, making clothes, etc

She couldn't wait to be a grandmother and Thomas couldn't wait to be a father

When the baby's due date was getting closer, you could tell Thomas was nervous about if the baby would come out looking like him

But you reassured him that, no matter what your baby looked like, you would love it the same way you loved him

He was good with the baby, so gentle and patient, always happy to help when it cried

If Hoyt ever tried to give either of you a hard time, Thomas actually violently defended you, sometimes tossing Hoyt across the room with one arm

He'd never let anything hurt you or your baby

BUBBA SAWYER

Like Thomas, everyone was surprised when you and Bubba got married

Though his family were far more excited about it! After all, their brother was quite the catch

You got along well with his family even before you moved in, with Chop Top and Nubbins always commenting to Bubba how lucky he was to have such a hot wife

It always made your husband get all flustered, babbling soft nonsense. He was cute

When you got pregnant, Bubba and the Sawyer family were over the moon

Family was extremely important to them and they were happy for you and Bubba

When Nubbins made a very ugly little hat for the baby, you accepted it but told him gently it'd be too big for their head but that you'd grow into it. He was excited about that prospect

Chop Top and Drayton helped Bubba set up the nursery so you could just relax

And when the baby was born, Bubba was so scared of holding something so fragile and precious

But you helped him, guiding his arms to hold the baby, and he was in shock and awe

He'd never thought he'd get married, much less to someone as gorgeous as you, and have a child together

Bubba was a nervous father, usually letting your kid get away with anything so you had to be the rule-setter when it came to the kid

His brothers were menaces when it came to babysitting their niece or nephew

But both you and Bubba were happy. He'd protect you both, no matter what

BO SINCLAIR

Honestly? This was a major win in Bo's mind

If you think he doesn't show off for you, you're wrong. That man takes every opportunity to

He also definitely flexed to his brothers about scoring the hottest wife ever

Of course, his brothers were very nice and respectful with you, though Bo wouldn't let them be too friendly

He's got a jealousy streak

Whenever visitors arrive to Ambrose, he's always got his arm around you or bragging about you when you're not around

He's whipped, you've got him wrapped around your finger

But when you tell him your pregnant, you're shocked at how scared he becomes

Of course, he doesn't show it visibly, but you know your husband and you can tell when he's nervous about something

Eventually, when he starts trying to pull away from you, you corner him and make him talk

Some yelling and fighting ensues but he caves, confessing he's scared he wouldn't be a good father. I mean, he didn't exactly have the best role model and he didn't want you or your babies to suffer for it

But you reminded him you were in this together and he'd relax a little

You had twins, because of course you did, but this only seemed to make Bo all the more anxious

He didn't exactly... know what to do with a baby? He'd never really been around infants so he's looking to you for help on this one

When they're a bit older though, he'll let them hang out in the auto shop with him when he works

One day you come home to find him asleep on the couch with the twins curled up on his chest and you just melt

He's a good dad and a good husband

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Vincent was shocked you'd said yes when he proposed

He didn't consider himself attractive in the slightest but you said yes?!

I mean, you were stunning, he'd stared at you constantly even when you were dating and it certainly didn't stop when you were married

Bo and Lester were definitely jealous, teasing him to see him get flustered over how lucky he was

Unlike Bo, when he found out you were pregnant, he was excited

Nervous, absolutely, but everyone is nervous when they're having their first kid

He's so wary for you though, nearly had you on bedrest the entire pregnancy because he feared the worst

One time he caught you standing on a chair to reach something and he nearly had a conniption

But the twins came - because of course they were twins - and were healthy and beautiful

Vincent is so gentle with them, like they're the most precious things in the world to them

He makes little wax sculptures for their room to decorate it

Definitely encourages and supports creative hobbies for the kids! He gets them finger paints and crayons and the like

You've woken up in the night because of the babies crying but Vincent is already up, ready to help

Vincent's mastered carrying them both with an arm each and its very cute

Sometimes you catch him holding one of the twins and humming softly to them as they sleep in his arms, just swaying together in the kitchen

You feel so lucky but he feels even luckier to have you and your kids

LESTER SINCLAIR

Lester is by far the most... stable? So you'd been instantly drawn to that about him

He'd always get so flustered, bringing you flowers and blushing like a madman while you were dating

It took him the longest to propose to you though, he always felt like you were waaaay out of his league

Visitors came and would gawk at you and he'd feel a twinge of jealousy at the reminder that yeah, you could have anyone

But he did propose to you and you said yes because you wanted him, not anyone else

Neither of you had any shame in PDA, often holding hands or kissing in front of visitors

You lived with Lester and Jonesy in a little house on the outskirts of the town, surrounded by trees and very peaceful compared to the horrors of Ambrose

It had actually been Lester who suggested having a kid or two running around. After all, he had two older brothers so he was used to that business in a house with lots of people living in it

Over time, the two of you would have two kids, but they weren't twins

Lester was a good dad too! He was attentive and loving but he didn't let them get away with too much

He'd teach them how to shoot when they were a bit older because it was a fond memory he had with his own dad

Of course, Lester didn't have the best dad to draw comparison to

But at least he knew what not to do. Surely that counted for something?

You'd come home from working a short shift to find Lester and the kids playing in the backyard, running about with Jonesy as they played soccer

Both you and Lester would do anything for your kids and you knew he'd do anything for you

[kittifang]

❝ THREE’S A CROWD? ❞

WC : 543 includes : reader is more of a voyeur in this, voyeurism, frottage, mxm, poly satosuga, dirty talk, edging, 18+ MDNI

poly! satosuga that you walk in on, both men desperately working their hips into the other's as their twitching cocks grind together, the swollen tips leaking with precum and making the slide even more sensual. You freeze, not wanting to interrupt yet simultaneously wanting to because, god, are they beautiful together. Your eyes are stuck on the way Geto's hand wraps around both of their lengths, pumping and working them together, the lewd sound accompanied by Gojo's grunts and their shared moans.

With the wet smacking of their sloppy kisses against each other's lips, you can already feel yourself dripping into your panties at the wanton scene. The pair's skin is shiny with sweat, their bodies glistening with a sheen of it,  slipping down their forheads and soaking their hair, which tells you they've been up to this for a while. You watch as the white-haired man buries his face into the crook of his lovers, whining as the fingers of Geto's spare hand sink into the flesh of his ass.

Gojo's always been greedy, always wanting for more, and there's no exception in the bedroom, and Suguru loves taking advantage of that. With how debauched and outright greedy your blue-eyed lover looks, you'd guess it's another one of those instances. He presses his forehead against Geto's with a plead, "S-suguru, please,-ngh- need to cum f-fuck!". And he receives a chuckle in response with a caress of the man's thumb over the weeping slit of his cock.

"Hmm, you think you deserve it? Maybe I'll be nice because you asked so prettily. Just look at you all desperate for me." Black eyes finding his rivers of desperate blue as their foreheads press together, Satoru looks so dazed and needy, all flush and whiny—just how Geto likes him, and he can't resist giving into him. He's already edged the poor man twice and knows he's reaching his limit, so he hums. Hand snaking from Satoru's ass to wrap around his neck to press their lips together, his other still steadily pumping the both of them, and he ups the pace. The actions only turn Gojo even more needy, his muffled moans of "Suguru! g-gonna cum t-thankyou thankyou thankyou" swallowed by the black-haired man's mouth, all messy and full of clashing teeth.

A string of spit connects their wet lips as Suguru tilts the other man's head and takes the lobe of his ear into his mouth, nipping the flesh as he speaks once more. "Thats a good boy, make a mess, baby, cum all over my cock just like that." And with a few more strokes of his hand, that's all it takes for a cry of "Suguru!" to leave Gojo's lips as his hips stutter, heavy balls tightening as he paints Geto's cock and his own abs with his seed.

He could cry from how fucking good it feels, rocking his hips as he's milked for all he's worth, groaning and whimpering as his twitching tip drips with the last remains of his spend. He buries his head in his beloved neck's once more. Now in tiredness as he breaths raggedly, those same hands rake over his back as he recovers. Soon enough those black eyes finds yours with a smirk from across the room, taking in your too pressed together thighs and red cheeks. "Enjoy the show, sweetheart?" And you swallow, you just know you're in for trouble.

AN//: errr this was supposed to be a lil drabble and I ended up getting VERY carried away😅 (who's surprised) :P. This is the first thing I've written since last year so hopefully y'all like it,i would greatly appreciate your thoughts and feedback!! byeeeee :D.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Just a cute, fluffy fic from Wayne's pov

💞

"Hey Wayne, how do you know you're in love?" Eddie asks him as they eat dinner that night. Wayne nearly choked on the pasta he was eating but covered himself by gulping down some coffee.

Shit, he needs something a little stronger for this, like when he had the talk with Eddie a few years ago, that was awkward as hell for the both of them.

Fortunately for Wayne's heart, Eddie kept his love life a secret. There were a couple people that weren't serious, but that's as far as Wayne knew. Eddie asking about love, though? This was new.

"I haven't got time for falling in love, Uncle Wayne, I have way too much shit to worry about, and it's a bunch of bullshit anyway", were the words of Eddie just a year ago.

Wayne knew his nephew craved love but at the same time viewed it cynically, so whoever this person was must be special to change his views.

"Why'd you ask boy?" Eddie's cheeks turn pink and he shrugs, gulps down the warm coffee and almost scalds his tongue. "Ahh shit!" his eyes widen when there's a knock on the trailer door, and Wayne gets up to answer it; he knows who it is even before he answers.

You're standing on the step, a D&D book tucked under your arm, smiling at Wayne with just a little bit of shyness this time which was an improvement.

You hurry inside and tell Eddie you'll set the books up in his room.

For six months, you'd been visiting the new trailer (all paid for by the government, so no questions were asked about the old one), and it took a while for you to relax around him; now that you did, it was like your second home and Wayne was used to you being here.

You had been visiting on your own, but sometimes with Harrington and Dustin, Wayne doesn't know what went on during Spring Break, just that Eddie was injured during the earthquake, and you were there for him every step of the way.

His wounds had healed but left scars, and sometimes Eddie woke up screaming after horrendous nightmares, not when you were around, though. When you were around it helped Eddie, helped the both of you work towards healing.

The fact that both of you were obviously falling head over heels in love with each other, is something that Wayne has kept quiet about, waiting until Eddie approached him about it.

Today was the day.

Wayne smiles gruffly. "This about your girl?" he nods to you as you head into Eddie's room and Eddie's cheeks darken even more.

"Yeah, yeah it is. She's amazing, isn't she, Wayne?" he enthuses; I just wanted to ask. How do you know it's love? I mean shit, I uh look at her, and she feels like home, and I don't want to be with anyone else ever; I feel like I can be myself around her, and she'd never judge me; she makes me tongue-tied and my heart races and she's so distracting and I... I'm in love with her" he sighs content then looks up at Wayne panicked.

"Shit, I don't even know if she feels the same?" Wayne sighs, he adores his nephew, but the boy is completely oblivious at times.

"Son, she looks at you like you hung the moon so why don't you quit horsing around and ask her out" Eddie looks like all of his Christmases have come at once.

"You really think so?" He asks hopefully and his eyes light up when Wayne nods. "Maybe I will talk to her then" Wayne then proceeds to watch his nephew practically melt at the sight of you; that was something that so very rarely happened with Eddie, so he was completely smitten.

Here's hoping that he did pluck up the courage to talk to you.

❤️

It's late when Wayne comes home from work; the TV is on, so Eddie is still up, and Wayne would bet that you're here too.

Wayne sees the two of you giggling together, holding hands and exchanging kisses, there's a big soppy smile on Eddie's face and he only has eyes for you.

About damn time. Also, Hopper owes him a glass of his best scotch so he will make sure to collect that too.

💞

[silassinclair]

Hi! It's me the "Maddox with a sassy y/n" annon. Omg i just saw your post and it made my Whole Week! 😭

Thank you so much!

Anyway, i have a new request (if that is alright). I saw that you have a yandere Boxer but i didn't see to much info on him.

Could we get an introduction or some information for him? I'm really curious.

As always, have great day/night! ✨

Sorry this took a while to answer, just came back from the Philippines and I saw this req in my inbox. I’ve been waiting to write for him so now I have the chance to!! Hope you like it :D Also the beginning of this is really long, boring, and angsty but bear with me ya'll :) Also the Russian is google translate so it may be inaccurate :(

Masterlist Here!!

Next Part Here!!

Yandere Boxer x Reader

Viktor Markov was not the man you thought he was; well, not anymore. You both were raised in a small eastern European town. Him being the boy next door; always covered in dirt and was the sweetest little boy who would bring you flowers and bugs that he found. And you were the weird little girl who would collect the rocks and flowers that he gifted you with a smile. So naturally the two of you became friends, two peas in a pod.

He always had your back and you always had his. Growing up together in eastern Europe was hard. Both of you came from a pretty rough neighborhood and home life but that didn't stop you two from being happy. After all you only needed each other. It was just you two against the world. And it was like that for years.

Well, that was until high school. Viktor stopped talking to you in Sophomore year. Your calls went ignored, socials un-interacted, and texts delivered. So you just gave up. You no longer chased after him or begged him to tell you what was wrong when all he did was give you a cold shoulder. And honestly, you just didn't want to be around him anymore.

He got in with a bad crowd. Some upperclassmen guys who would just skip class to smoke. And seeing your childhood best friend become one of them broke your heart. You tried, you really did. But instead the blonde snapped at you, telling you to stop acting like his Mother and that he didn't need you anymore. And he was right, Viktor was more grown up now. Hard jawline, firm muscles, and standing at a staggering 6'3 feet tall.

He didn't need your back anymore.

And you didn't need his.

High school was a blur. You kept to your studies and only had a small circle of friends that consisted of all girls who have all been friends longer than before you ever came around. You were the grass friend. They all walked on the sidewalk while you trailed behind to the side; always stepping in the mud and grass. They weren't really your friends, you just didn't want to be alone. And they didn't see you as a friend, they just didn't want you to be alone. Pitiful isn't it?

But none of it mattered. It was all over and done in the blink of an eye. After high school was university and in university was medical school and after medical school was a new beginning. Being a docotor was never really your dream. It was your parent's dream and they just wanted the best for their little girl. You didn't want to disapoint them and go to culinary school like what you really wanted. So you worked and went to med school at the same time.

It was hard. It really was. You have no friends, no social life, and no one has your back. Yet it's your job to have people's backs. Ironic and unfair. But that's life.

Money was getting tight. Paying off student loans and working multiple jobs was getting exhausting. Living? No, it felt like you were dying. But you got offered a job you could not refuse. A patient came into your office. It was an older man in his early 50s.

"You're quite quiet for a doctor." He says. "Shy thing are you?"

You give him a silent nod. Hopefully this conversation doesn't take the turn you don't want it to take. Getting harassed by patients as a woman doctor is scarily common.

"I need a doctor. One like you; diligent, quiet, and quite the eye candy. Work for me krasivyy (beautiful). The pay is better than working in this heap clinic."

You eye him oddlyand whisper, "Why do you need me? Do you want me to be one of those underworld doctors or something? If so then no. I won't be patching up assassins or serial killers."

The man laughs, his voice booming in the small examination room.

"No no. You won't be dealing with any of those type. But this still is underground as you say. I own an underground boxing ring. And I need a doctor to patch up my fighters. Illegal, but good pay no?

You thought about it for two minutes then finally gave your answer.

“When do I start?”

The man’s name is Radko. And right now you’re in his gym. It’s dark, stinky, and full of shirtless men training for their next match. You thought you felt out of place in school? Nope, this is 100x worse. And some of these guys are acting like they’ve never seen a woman before.

“Stop looking at me like that weirdo.” You think to yourself while walking past a guy on a bench who’s wiping the sweat off his chest. His hungry gaze on you sends shivers down your spine.

“Ignore their stares.” Radko puts a rough hand on your shoulder. “They’re not used to seeing pretty women.”

“Yeah I can see that.” You mutter.

You two stop in front of the door near the back of the gym. It says “Clinic” in front of the door. He opens the door and you’re greeted with a surprisingly clean office. Radko must have cleaned up a little when he knew you would be coming.

“This is where you’ll be. Some guys will walk in pretty roughed up. Just patch em up abd send them on their way. If any of em try anything with you, you tell me right away. Okay?”

Radko was like a Dad and you liked that about him. A pretty intimidating Dad who owns an illegal boxing ring but what does that matter. Doesn’t particularly make him a bad person.

“Okay. Thank you.” You say with a warm smile.

“Ah you’re so milyy (cute)! Please don’t quit within the first week, I don’t think my heart can handle it if you go.” Radko says and hugs you. You give the big man a pat on the back in return.

“I’ll leave you to it now. You’ll receive your pay bi-weekly. See you now.”

And with that you were left alone. You were left in a small private clinic you could call your own. Maybe this job wouldn’t be as bad as you thought? But all positive thoughts flew out the window when your first patient of the day walked in.

Tall, pale, short blonde hair, scarred torso, muscle on muscle, and piercing blue eyes. All features of someone whom you thought you would never see again. Who you never wanted to see again.

“Kroshechnyy?” (Tiny)

God that nick name. There was a time it would make you smile and laugh. But now it just pissed you off. He had the audacity to call you that as if you two were still buddy buddy? No, fuck that. Fuck him.

“It’s Y/n to you now. What do you want Viktor?”

The man’s face creased with pain. Not physical, no, something worse.

“What are you doing here? This place isn’t for you.” His voice was a deeper timbre from when you last spoke to him Sophomore year. He walks closer to you and you can smell his sweat from training but also… Jean Paul Gaultier? Why would you wear designer fragrance at a gym? Weirdo.

Little did you know when he saw you walk in the gym he immediately raced to the locker room to freshen up and see you.

“I’m a doctor. I got a side job from Radko.” You explain swiftly. “If you’re uninjured then please leave. Other patients may come in with actual reasons to see me.”

Rather than face to face you’re face to chest with him. How the hell did he get so tall? You crane your neck up to meet his eyes.

His expression stiffens. His usual cold demeanor returns.

“You shouldn’t be here. This place isn’t for you. It’s dangerous.”

You roll your eyes. “I think I can manage. Now please leave me alone. You’re the last person I ever want to see.”

Viktor ignores the comment and his gaze remains ice cold. You nearly shiver, did the room temperature drop?

“Stop acting childish. Tell Rad that you quit.”

“But I’m not quitting.”

He steps closer.

“I’ll make you.”

“And what are you gonna do?”

He bends down to your level and scoffs.

“I don’t need to lift a finger. You’ll get scared and run off with your tail between those little legs of yours. These men here will eat you alive.”

Did he not think you knew that before you signed up for all this? You were aware of what you walked into. Underground gym, surrounded by men, all physically fit to the max. They could rip you in half. But you needed this job. There wasn’t time to be afraid.

“Yeah yeah I know. I don’t need your lecture. Now get out before I tell Radko.”

Viktor leans closer. His nose mere centimeters from yours.

“Don’t come crying to me when you get hurt.”

“If I get hurt then I’ll just patch myself up. I didn’t go through 4 years of med school just to cry when I’m in pain.”

The tall Russian growls lowly to himself and leaves, not before slamming the door of course.

“Fuck…”

This new job of yours just got worse tenfold.

It’s been about two weeks since you started working here. And you’ve met all of Radko’s men. They weren’t as bad as you thought they would be. Yeah they would flirt with you but not in the gross way. They knew when to quit.

Well, all of them except for Vladimir. The same one who eyed you like a piece of meat the first day you came here. Everyday he would come to the clinic to shoot his shot. And everyday you turned him down.

“Little kotenok (kitten) is still feisty.” Vladimir clicks his tongue. He manspreads in the examination chair, flexing his ab muscles and turning his head to the side to show off his impressive jawline. But all it does is un-impress you.

“If you’re going to waste my time like this everyday then I’m going to tell Radko.” You firmly state and cross your arms.

Like a kicked puppy the boxer whines, “Nooooo. I’m sorry please don’t kick me out. This is the only room besides Coach’s that is air conditioned.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Not my problem, do an ice bath or something.”

Vladimir chuckles and goes to say something else but stops himself when he sees and hears the door open. You also turn your attention to the door, wondering who it is and why they didn’t knock.

“Get out.” Viktor says. His voice like stone, as is his glare. His bloody swollen eye only ads to his intimidating aura.

Vladimir gets out of the chair and groans. “Way to be a cockblock Vicky.” He says mockingly.

You were about to shoot in and say how there was no way you would give him the light of day but Viktor had other plans. His fist makes contact with Vladimir’s abdomen with a mean punch. Making the other man wheeze and keel over in pain.

“Get the fuck out.” Viktor grabs him by the hair and kicks him out of the office. Literally. The door then slams shut, leaving you alone with your heated childhood friend.

“Thanks…” You mutter. Unable to look into his eyes, well… eye. The other is swollen shut.

He grunts and sits on the examination bed. Getting into doctor mode you walk over to Viktor and assess the damage. There’s a few bruises on his ribs but his eyes seem to be the worst. Delicately you touch part of the bruised eye and he inwardly flinches, making you draw your hand back in an instant.

“What happened?” You softly ask.

“Alexei sucker punched me. Dick.”

You stifle a laugh, making your patient deadpan. “Typical Alexi. I’ll tell him off the next time he comes in here complaining about his stomach aches.”

Viktor and you are silent when you rub ointment on his bruises. After the ointment is all done you hand him an icepack.

“Use this for the eye.”

He nods and thanks you with a silent nod. Then, he leaves just like that.

After that you would see more of Viktor and less Vladimir. To be honest you’ve been seeing less of everyone. Everyday Viktor came in with new reasons to come to you. Headaches, head trauma, bruises, scratches, and the worst was a dislocation.

“What is it this time?” You don’t even need to face the door to know who it is.

“He needs help!”

You whip around immediately, nearly spilling your coffee. You see Alexi and Cain at the door and draped over their shoulders is an unconscious Vladimir. You run over to them and tell them to lay Vladimir down on the bed gently while you assess his condition.

“What happened!?” You say worriedly. He was barely breathing. You begin doing chest compressions.

“We found him outside. Some of those bastards from west gym probably did this to him…” Cain says, his eyes are full of rage.

The compressions aren’t working. So instead you ready up the life support. He won’t last long with traumatic brain injuries like this.

“What’s gonna happen to him Doc?” Alexi sounds the most worried. He’s just a kid, only being 17.

“I’m putting him under life support.” And it was damn hard to do it on your own.

“Thank you.” Cain says. He puts a hand on the small of Alexi’s back. “Let’s leave her alone. She’s busy.”

The two men leave. Leaving you alone with Vladimir who has one foot in hell. No offense Vladimir, but no way you’re going to heaven. All day you stay by Vladimir’s side. Other men come in to check on him or get patch ups. And you go about your job, leaving the unconscious man to rest on the bed.

If I knew she would be stuck to his side like glue then I never would have beaten the fucker half to death. The plan was to kill him but the stubborn bastard just didn’t want to die. I watch Y/n from outside the clinic. The window’s blinds are open. She’s so close yet so far; always out of my reach. Part of it is my fault. I was the one who pushed her away after all.

But I had no choice. I didn’t want her involved with the people I was involved with in high school. I needed them in order to get some side jobs. Hell, a couple of them box for Radko too at this gym. I thought Y/n would be gone from my life for good, but I was wrong. I thought God was punishing me for the things I have done but it seems like he took pity on me just this once by bringing her back to me and letting me have a second chance.

But so far I’m making no progress. What even is love? I know I love her but I don’t know how. All I know is that I need to protect her from all the wolves here. I already staked my claim on her but one fucker didn’t want to listen. Vladimir, that egotistical thorn in my side. The next chance I get I'll kill him for good. It's not like this is my first time killing for her after all.

High school was when I first took someone's life. Some upperclassman bitch was harassing Y/n. I couldn't stand watching her suffer. And I couldn't comfort her like before when we were young; by this time I already cut off Y/n for good. But I knew there was something I could do. So I killed her. And I killed anyone who dared breathe Y/n's name wrong.

I'll do whatever I can to protect the love of my life. Slowly, little by little, I'll win her back. She'll be mine again and we'll be even closer than friends. But for now I'll do what I can to keep her safe from the sidelines. Even if it means she'll find out and hate me forever.