#the coming of Arthur pt 2

[koalas-koalas-everywhere]

Everything has a goddamn sound effect, even Merlin's eyes turning gold. This show's so dumb, I love it so much.

[sonicstorybook]

The King’s Champion

A SatBK AU where Shadow is the one sent to Camelot and Sonic is the doppelgänger- the one and only King Arthur!

Chapter 1/2

Summary: Arthur the Hedgehog pulled the legendary sword Caliburn from the stone, and he became King Arthur, the ruler of Camelot. Shadow the Hedgehog appears in a flash of magic in the middle of his banquet hall, and he becomes Arthur’s problem. As the sun rises over the kingdom, a pre-dawn conversation between both hedgehogs also helps them reach... well, not quite a mutual understanding, but progress is progress! 

(Shadow doesn’t know where he is, what’s going on, or why he’s there- but it doesn’t matter. He’s Shadow the Hedgehog, the world’s ultimate life form, and he’s going to play this weird game by his rules.)

Contains: Pre-relationship/platonic Arthadow (Arthur the Hedgehog x Shadow the Hedgehog)! 

Rating: G

Word count:   4,289

Note: Dedicated to my pal Smash ( @teamxdark ), whose fantastic Arthadow stories have been living in my head rent free until I finally had to try my hand at their dynamic. Hope this helps scratch your Arthadow itch. <3 

And a very special thank you to my good friend Essy ( @messedupessysonicsheit​ ) whose encouragement, enthusiasm, and marvelous ideas helped give this AU life! C: Thank you for being forcibly recruited as my beta reader, lol!

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‘Be careful what you wish for, Arthur, because you just might get it!’

Sir Ector had told him that so many times as a child when he complained of all his tedious chores and boring lessons. Arthur would much rather dream of adventure and glory as a knight, powerful and brave and noble! Back then he was always running, always rushing to get to this point in time.

Sir Ector was right, of course. His foster father was right about many things, it turned out. Who knew that a normal human being could understand the heart of a blue hedgehog so accurately?

Strange. How strange that he should think of childhood dreams and idle wishes now, making his way up the winding staircase to the tallest tower.. and his guest.

Arthur takes the steps two at a time, impatient to get to the top where he knows Shadow the Hedgehog is brooding.

Probably. It’s difficult to anticipate what the stranger is doing since he is completely unpredictable.

It had been an omen that this Shadow had appeared in a whirlwind of strange magic, materializing out of thin air like a ghost. And like a ghost, he had disappeared just as quickly, dislocating Lamorak’s shoulder and bloodying Sir Hector de Maris’ nose in his haste to get away.

For two weeks, this hedgehog with Lancelot’s face and his frantic energy had wandered throughout the kingdom, lost and confused and very clearly looking for something. While a bit careless with his strength, and very destructive, their strange guest only lashed out when provoked or cornered. (Which was probably why this Shadow favored the castle towers so much. No walls or ceilings to trap him. This was one of Arthur’s favorite places to run away from his duties, too.)

None of his knights had been able to bring Shadow the Hedgehog back, neither by strength of arms or skill of speech. It wasn’t until Camelot’s king himself sought him out, bested him in a duel and coaxed with gentle words did the mighty warrior finally agree to come to court.

(Arthur still isn’t sure how he was the one who managed to connect with this Shadow the Hedgehog. Gawain has the strength of ten men and Percival a patient, silver tongue. Shadow shows a clear disdain for authority and doesn’t seem particularly impressed with Arthur’s laurels, so what? What is it? Is it because they’re both hedgehogs?)

The cloak on his shoulders feels heavy and itchy, and how he longs to take it off- but he does not. Arthur pushes the trap door open, and finds Shadow the Hedgehog on the embrasure. He’s sitting on one of the raised rocks that circle the tower like a crown, one knee pulled against his chest. The other dangles over the side of the wall.

“Hello, Shadow the Hedgehog,” Arthur calls out, adjusting his cloak around his neck to protect from the early morning chill. He kicks the trap door closed behind him, and makes his way to the stone next to the other hedgehog, using it as an armrest as he looks into the gloom of the pre-dawn.

The darkness of night slowly recede as the first spot of distant orange light starts to peek over the tree line, dark purples and blues bathing the emerging silhouettes of the castle town. Shadow’s profile is barely illuminated by the growing light, but his red eyes glimmer with an unnatural light of their own.

“How did you sleep?” Arthur tries again when Shadow doesn’t respond, tilting his head thoughtfully, “Your quarters were comfortable, I presume?”

“What do you want?” Shadow asks brusquely, eyeing him with a guarded suspicion. In cheerful temperament, particularly so early in the morning, Shadow and Lancelot are perfectly matched. (Shadow’s own fault- Arthur had a perfectly decent guest room prepared for him, and his strange visitor hadn’t stepped one foot inside!)

“I want to know how my guest is enjoying my hospitality,” Arthur answers back just as dryly, “And if he needs anything. Clean towels, perhaps?”

“I’m fine,” Shadow looks back to the sky, but his attention is on the straggling stars that are disappearing in the growing morning light. He looks so very lost like that, searching for something he can’t seem to find.

“Are you?” Arthur asks quietly, but just as he anticipated, that snaps Shadow out of his pensive mood, “You don’t act like you’re fine.”

“Don’t you have a kingdom to run?” Shadow fixes him with a fearsome scowl, quills bristling in annoyance.

“Run where?” Arthur grins with a shrug, turning so his elbows are leaning against the stone nonchalantly, “I think it’s doing pretty good here. Where would do better? On the banks of the Misty lake? In the depths of the Crystal Cave?”

Shadow doesn’t look the least but amused with his teasing, frown somehow deepening, “Ugh. Surely there must be something more important you should be doing than bothering me.”

That comment hits a tender part of his heart Arthur had long forgotten, when he was half this size and went by the epithet ‘Wart’ instead. Perhaps not much has changed during that time. Perhaps he’s still just an annoying little boy trying to be what he is not.

“...I suppose there are other matters that need my attention,” Arthur concedes after a long moment, remembering himself and slipping back into his more poised and measured royal voice, “But it is also true that a good king cares for his people.”

Kings had to look forward, not back. He gives Shadow a pleasant but bland smile, focusing on the here and now,  “And a great king extends that hospitality to all his subjects, and all the visitors to his lands. I apologize if I have disturbed you.”

Shadow opens his mouth to argue, a strange emotion flashing in his eyes, there and gone like a bolt of lightning- but he doesn’t do or say anything. He just crosses his arms over his chest and glowers at the forest in the distance, “...Whatever.”

The first rays of the sun are just starting to peek over the horizon, pinks and oranges stretching out across the pale blue sky. It bathes his kingdom with a warm, almost magical glow.

It has been a long time since Arthur has taken the time to see the sunrise. He enjoys the stillness of the sleepy morning. In another hour or so, his kingdom will be bustling and awake, bringing new problems for him to solve. But for now, it’s serene. Calm.

“The sun rises on yet another day, and as the kingdom wakes and goes about its duties, so too must its king,” Arthur pushes off the stone and clasps his hands behind his back, projecting the calm confidence his people have come to expect from him.

“If you are feeling more sociable today, breakfast will be served in the banquet hall. We would be most delighted to enjoy your company, if you are willing to grant it,” Arthur has learned to be careful with his word choice and tone, since it carries much more power than he realizes. An invitation could be read as an undeniable request, and a request a threat.

“Tch. Yeah, right,” Shadow scoffs, mouth twisting into a grimace as he rolls his eyes. Clearly not an issue with this Shadow the Hedgehog, “Just leave me alone.”

Such a remark could have been interpreted as treasonous if Arthur was a less patient man. (As it turns out, this flippant disregard for his position is delightful, making Arthur feel more like a person than a figurehead, for once. Even Kay’s barbed teasing and affectionate insults had lost their bite the moment Arthur the Hedgehog became King Arthur of Logres.) Arthur allows himself a small smile.

“And so you shall be!” Arthur shrugs, forgetting himself for a moment, “Enjoy acting like a gargoyle! You’ve got the fearsome scowl down perfectly.”

Shadow’s eyes flicker to him briefly, but he doesn’t respond

“If you should need anything, ask me directly, please. My knights are proud, and they won’t forget or forgive that they lost to an unarmed and unknighted knave-“

“I'm only going to say this once,“ Shadow crosses one leg over the other as turns to give Arthur his full attention, “I’m not a knave or a churl or a boor or whatever strange terms you guys insist on using. I’m a hedgehog. Only a hedgehog.”

“That’s not what that means-“ Arthur starts to try to explain, but Shadow cuts him off.

“I don’t care.” Shadow tosses his head imperiously, “Whoever calls me anything but hedgehog is going to get a kick to the head.”

They stand in silence a moment longer, watching the sky continue to lighten.

“I’ll pass along your message, but I can’t promise my knights won’t try to use this knowledge to challenge you,” Arthur turns and starts walking to the door, waving a hand over his shoulder, “Well then. Good day to you-“

Just as Arthur is about to go back inside, Shadow speaks up.

“Wait.”

Arthur pauses, ear swiveling backwards before he turns to face Shadow again

“I have... a question,” Shadow says slowly and carefully, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s a tension to his shoulders that looks like wariness, almost like he’s bracing himself for a negative reaction. “Tell me the truth.”

Arthur has long learned to keep his facial expressions bland and approachable, never giving too much of his inner thoughts away- but he feels his heart beat faster. It feels like Shadow is about to ask for a boon, and this one probably isn’t as simple as granting him a year-long apprenticeship with Kay in the kitchens or the company of one of his knights on a quest.

Arthur isn’t sure he’ll be able to give this stranger what he’s going to ask for.

“Ask freely, sir,” Arthur chooses each word deliberately, carefully, used to this verbal dance. He taps his foot against the stones at his feet, trying to rid himself of nervous energy, “You have my word that, should I not know, my knights will venture forth to seek whatever answers may be available.”

Encompassing enough the petitioner feels like they are being listened to but narrow enough to be feasible.

“Am I... Lancelot?”

“Huh?” Arthur is not usually at a loss for words, but all he can do is stare. He picks at his ear discreetly, certain he must have misheard, “Um. I fear the wind carried off your words before I could hear them-“

“Am I Lancelot?” Shadow repeats, annoyed, turning to face him with a defensive hunch to his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Arthur answers honestly, like he promised, crossing his arms over his chest as he scrutinizes Shadow head to toe, “Let me see.”

Though physically very similar, there are a few small but significant differences.

Shadow’s fur is short and sleek, and there are no scars visible anywhere on his body, certainly none over his eye. The divide between his red and black fur is precise, like it was stitched together by a tailor’s skilled hand. It’s nothing like the wild, asymmetrical streaks of red enchantment on Lancelot. They both have strong, proud shoulders, but Shadow’s have a sag of doubt to them. For all his faults, for all sins, Lancelot has never doubted the convictions of his heart and soul. (Arthur hopes he never sees the day his dear friend’s shoulders carry the heaviness of weary regret like that. He misses Lancelot dearly, wishing him well wherever his latest quest has taken him.)

“No,” Arthur answers at last, nodding definitively, “You aren’t Lancelot.”

Shadow doesn’t acknowledge his answer, and he doesn’t look back at him or move. When Arthur is just about to repeat himself, however, Shadow asks quietly, “How do you know?”

What a strange question! Intrigued, Arthur decides the castle can spare him for a little longer. He sits next to Shadow, dangling his legs over the side of the embrasure like the unusual hedgehog. It’s exhilarating, sending a warm thrill to Arthur’s soul that he didn’t even know he craved. Shadow tenses next to him, but does not move.

“Well, for one, Lancelot would never wake up this early,” Arthur answers, lightheartedly, kicking his feet pensively, “Lancelot is sleep’s favorite knight, and when he is in her embrace, she is reluctant to give him back to the world of the wakeful.”

“What are you talking about?” Shadow looks at him like he grew another head, tone confused and angry. (Shadow seems to be angry a lot.) “What does any of that mean!?”

Impatient, impatient! Shadow and Lancelot share that in common, too. Arthur laughs despite himself, shrugging airily with a mischievous wink, “It means he’s a heavy sleeper and would never get up to see a sunrise. It also means I'll give you a better answer if you ask a better question.”

Shadow looks slightly taken aback, something flashing through those vivid red eyes of his. It’s gone just as quickly. His eyes are like storm clouds, Arthur thinks distantly, never calm even when he’s still.

“You say you’re King Arthur,” there’s a hint of a sneer to Shadow’s tone, like he’s stating the obvious, “You should know exactly who your best knight is.”

“I do know Lancelot,” Arthur concedes, amused by this challenge, “I know Lancelot well! He’s a good friend and an even better knight! “The way he moves on the battlefield is captivating! He’s so fast it’s like he’s not even moving!”

He takes great pleasure in watching Lancelot fight, gesturing with his hands as he gets swept up in the story, “Just appearing and disappearing like- like lightning! He’s got such a reputation that most knights are afraid to challenge him directly- with good reason!- so he disguises himself to get a fair fight!”

Arthur sighs in dreamy acknowledgement, wishing his place was on the field instead of the throne, too, “He is truly worthy of the title of ultimate knight.”

“Hmm,” Shadow manages to make a wordless grunt sound derisive, looking incredibly unimpressed, “That’s not useful at all.”

“Like I said- if you ask better questions, I’ll give you better answers,” Arthur arches a quizzical brow in Shadow’s direction, matching the other hedgehog’s condescension, “I am not privy to the thoughts in Lancelot’s head or the emotions in Lancelot’s breast, save those he chooses to share with me.”

Shadow‘s scowl deepens, “I don’t have time for your riddles, hedgehog.”

“Riddles, Huh?” Arthur leans on the stone to his side, looking up at the sky as he feels the sun warm his back. There’s a pang of longing for his wild, old mentor, who disappeared from his life as quickly as he came. Poor Merlina has some very big shoes to fill… If Merlin was truly gone.

It’s possible and entirely probable the wizard was responsible for Shadow’s sudden arrival, and would be by to check on him eventually… if Merlin realized whatever he was trying to do worked. Or didn’t work. It was always very difficult to tell with wizards.

“Anyway!” Shaking his head free of thoughts of Merlin, Arthur gestures to the well-groomed patch of fur on Shadow’s chest, “You are in a better position to judge if the heart that beats in your chest is also that of Sir Lancelot of the Lake.”

Shadow doesn’t look satisfied with that answer, glowering at the landscape below again. He doesn’t say anything back.

“You asked for my opinion and I gave it to you. You are not Lancelot,” Arthur repeats, confused, “Does this answer trouble you?”

“What? No, of course not, don’t be ridiculous” Shadow says it quickly, more like he’s trying to convince himself than Arthur. He shakes his head as if dislodging his doubts, “It doesn’t matter. Nevermind.”

Shadow swings his legs back up to stand on the lower stone, crouching down to look at the ground below. He looks like he’s trying to calculate the distance- Surely this hedgehog isn’t mad or desperate enough to throw himself down?!

“Wait, stop! I’ve got a question for you, too!” Arthur interrupts Shadow’s thoughts loudly, sincerely concerned this stranger is about to hurl himself off the tower. He moves towards the center of the tower, away from the edge in the hopes Shadow will unconsciously follow him. (Shadow does not.) “Why the change of heart?”

As hoped, Shadow is distracted and back looks up, “Huh? What do you mean?”

“You were very clear in asserting yourself as ‘Shadow the Hedgehog the world’s Ultímate Lifeform’ when you first arrived in my castle’s halls. You were insulted at the idea that you would be compared and mistaken for another! Absolutely adamant that you were not Lancelot.”

Arthur pauses briefly for a moment, waiting for a reaction, but Shadow doesn’t give him one. Not very emotive, this fellow. “If you were so sure you arrived here as Shadow the Hedgehog, the ultimate life form, why do you think you’ve become Sir Lancelot of the Lake?”

He doesn’t think Shadow is going to answer him. The other hedgehog clenches his hand into a fist, tight enough it looks painful, before finally responding, “Everyone has been calling me Lancelot.”

It’s said softly, like an admission of guilt, but it seems innocuous enough.

“You bear a striking resemblance to him. Does this trouble you?” Arthur prompts gently, not sure what to make of this... revelation? It seems very minor and insignificant, but it’s obviously important to Shadow.

“They seem sure that I am Lancelot,” Shadow continues, crossing his arms over his chest looking up to the sky like he may find answers or comfort among the clouds.

They? Who’s they?

“And… their conviction outweighs your own?” Arthur continues, tapping his chin thoughtfully, only pausing when Shadow fixes him with an offended glare.

“No,“ Shadow snarls like it’s pressing on a tender wound, gesturing impatiently at the scenery, “It's the environment that matches their conviction.”

“I see,” Arthur agrees even though he really doesn’t understand what Shadow is talking about. Is he trying to say he comes from a world devoid of forests and magic and castles and lakes? How dreadful!

“It all has the right physical properties and endurance,” Shadow continues almost like he’s distracted, suddenly kicking at the arrow slit under his previous seat. The thick, solid rock breaks under the force of his sabaton, the entire left side of the opening falling to the ground with a thud. Shadow picks it up like it weighs nothing, chucking it over the edge of the tower. They both watch the rock plummet to the ground until it is nothing but a small dot shattering into hundreds of smaller specks, “Everything follows the laws of physics.”

“Hm,” Arthur gives a noncommittal grunt as he runs his hand against the now much bigger hole, impressed at Shadow’s strength. He might even have Gawain working up a sweat!

“Water corrodes metal at the same rate. Plants die if they are snapped in half,” Shadow moves so he’s standing again, still uncomfortably close to the edge, “Things that are broken or damaged remain that way until they are repaired or replaced.”

Although Arthur still doesn’t quite understand Shadow’s monologue, something clicks.

“Is that what you’ve been doing since you came here?” He asks, thinking back to the reports of the half-mad hedgehog doing nonsensical things with a frightening intensity and ferocious strength. Apparently there was a purpose to his carving varying lines on the trees in the forest, leaving an assortment of strange items in a pool of water and examining them days later, and interrogating the locals on the present and near past. “Conducting tests?”

“Of course,” Shadow looks at him oddly, as though the question is inconceivable, “Why else?”

Arthur knows a verbal trap when he sees one, even the inadvertent ones, and he sidesteps graciously, “Why play such coy guessing games when the truth is easily obtained from the one in front of me?”

“Hm,” Shadow doesn’t look convinced but strangely enough, he doesn’t argue. There’s a weird tension in Shadow’s shoulders again, but why would ‘truth’ elicit such a reaction?

Arthur moves on, “And what have you determined, friend?”

“Physical sensations and wants don’t change my perception of this world, and there are too many details that go beyond my frame of reference, so it’s unlikely it’s a dream.”

“...Physical wants?” These remarks trouble Arthur greatly, scrutinizing Shadow more closely. There’s no bags under his eyes and his fur looks healthy enough, but... “When’s the last time you slept? Are you hungry?”

Shadow rubs at the back of his neck with a sigh, not listening or choosing not to reply, mostly talking to himself at this point, “I may be back in stasis, but that’s always been dreamless... unless my memory is being tampered with again. But that’s a delicate and complicated procedure, and certainly wouldn’t be wasted on something this meaningless-“

“It’s not meaningless! And I would ask you to never refer to my kingdom as such again, Shadow the Hedgehog,” Arthur interrupts sternly, using the commanding tone he has mastered but is still loath to use.

Shadow looks up sharply like he is broken from a trance, blinking at Arthur owlishly like he doesn’t understand the outrage. The king gentles his tone as he gestures to the castle grounds, “Camelot is the dreams of peace and brotherhood made real. My knights, my people, and all our forefathers have made tremendous Efforts and suffered many sacrifices to bring it to fruition.”

He makes eye contact, every word spoken with conviction, “Even if this dream only lasts a moment, it was worth it. Even if the impact is as fleeting as the sands of time, it was good.”

Arthur puts his hand over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, “I am proud of what we’ve accomplished and what we will accomplish. And no matter how treacherous the path, even if my heart shatters into a thousand pieces and the bitterest tears wet my cheeks at the closing, I will never regret any of it.”

“...”

Shadow doesn’t look away. He looks at Arthur as if seeing him in a new light.

“I understand. That is your conviction, and I respect it,” Shadow gives what Arthur supposes is an apology and acknowledgement, although it isn’t either. Arthur is a proud man, too, and the lack of a clear repentance grates on him-

“Thank you, Arthur,” Shadow closes his eyes as if in thought, and for a brief moment, he looks like he’s at peace, “You reminded me of something important I had almost forgotten.”

Shadow smiles. It’s a beautiful thing, small but genuine, like sunlight peeking through dreary storm clouds, “Even If my memories and environment are artificial, I’m still me. I’m Shadow.”

He opens his eyes again, looking determined, “And I will do what I must to keep the promise I made. Wherever I am.”

Just like that, Arthur’s irritation is quickly overtaken by a bloom of warmth in his chest. Shadow is terse and cold, but his soul is noble and his heart is devoted. He may not be Lancelot, but Shadow has the makings of a fine knight. He will undoubtedly achieve great things, too, and Arthur hopes he’ll be able to at least hear about them.

Arthur knows that he’ll break the serene spell Shadow is under if he speaks. He wants to savor this moment, commit it to memory forever- but he can’t help himself. As impulsive as when he took that weathered sword out of a rock, Arthur blurts out, “You have a beautiful smile, Shadow the Hedgehog.”

“...Hmph,” Shadow frowns at him disdainfully, although there’s no heat in his scowl. It seems primarily for effect, like Shadow’s not sure how else he’s supposed to respond to a compliment like that. What a strange man, unable to apologize or accept a compliment!

“I hope this will not be the last time I am acquainted with it,” Arthur tells him sincerely, noting but not commenting on how Shadow’s ears twitch, “It suits you.”

“Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath,” Shadow tries to sound annoyed but it comes out amused. Unfortunately the frown makes a comeback rather quickly as Shadow crosses his arms over his chest. Ah Well. The sun has already risen enough that the telltale hustle and bustle of the morning is coming from the courtyard, even if it’s very faint at this height. He’s spent too long away from his duties already.

“Join me for breakfast!” Arthur offers Shadow his arm, but the other hedgehog looks at his arm then at him blankly, like he doesn’t understand the gesture. Perhaps they don’t do that where Shadow is from? “Follow me. It’s a bit of a walk, perfect for building up an appetite-“

“Walk?“ Shadow repeats incredulously, looking somewhat disturbed by the notion, “You?“

“My legs work just as well as yours, Shadow the Hedgehog,” Insulted, again, Arthur crosses his arms over his chest, arching a brow disdainfully, “Would you prefer I request a litter to carry me like I was grievously ill? Perhaps call up two of my strongest knights to parade me around on their shoulders like an infant?”

The blue hedgehog shakes his head incredulously, tapping his thigh as if to demonstrate its physicality, “I got here on my own two feet, and I’ll leave here the same way!“

Arthur has an incredibly childish urge to stick his tongue out at Shadow that he is barely able to resist, “Unless you are volunteering to carry me down yourself, then I intend to use them!”

“Fine,” Shadow doesn’t back down from his challenge, gaze steady as he holds his hand out, palm up, “I’ll do it. Come here.”

[leclerc-hs]

lucky pt. 2 - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend, are most definitely in love, but it's too complicated (or is it?) Warnings: most french edited by @softtdaisy (shoutout to her!!), SMUT, angst, 18+, not proofread Word Count: 2,695 Author's Note: I absolutely loved writing this!! I know I said I would wait for the poll to end but I think we can just do bonus scenes in the future if wanted!! xoxo PART 1 BONUS

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Imbécile,” Idiot. Arthur throws a piece of his balled-up napkin, hitting you right in the face. “Maman wants you there, pas d’excuses.” No excuses.

It had been almost two weeks since you and Charles last spoke. The both of you far too stubborn to bring up the argument you last had. Instead, you ignored the problem at hand. By not seeing each other. Sunday dinner at Pascale’s was a weekly occurrence. One that you failed to attend last week, and it was shame on you if you missed another because of Charles.

You release a heavy sigh, acknowledging that you’re about to yield and head over to Pascale’s. After all, it’s not entirely her fault that her son seems to be obvlious to certain things. 

“Il est fou amoureux de toi!” He is in love with you! Arthur exclaims softly as he notices your eyes won’t stray from the icy window of the café you are both seated in. You felt your throat tighten at the phrase.

“Ce n’est pas grave, Arthur,” It doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Him being in love with you wasn’t always enough, or so you thought. He could barely commit to his ex-girlfriend. Could he commit to you? You couldn’t handle losing him if it didn’t work out. It was a recipe for disaster to begin with.

The two of you didn’t realize how dark it was already getting. Meaning you were for sure late to Pascale’s.

“Tu viendras avec moi?” Will you come with me?

“Bien sur.” Of course. You couldn’t not go. One, because you knew nothing but seeing Pascale will put a smile on your face. Two, Arthur wouldn’t let you leave this café without dragging you to his Maman’s first. 

It was a short drive from the café to Pascale’s place. The limited size of the principality made the journey quick, allowing you to take in the charming scenery along the way. As you approached Pascale’s home, a smile graced your lips at the sight of the festive decorations adorning the steps.

Pascale’s touch was evident in the small Christmas trees, their lights casting a warm glow that sparkled beside the front door. The holiday spirit infused the air, creating a sense of coziness and anticipation. 

The warmth of Pascale’s home enveloped you as Arthur swung the door open. His hand gently found its place on the small of your back, guiding you inside with a gesture that spoke of familiarity and care.

He assisted you in shedding the layers of clothes you wore. Your scarf and jacket were in his hands, swiftly finding their place on the nearby coat rack. Amidst the exchange, laughter bubbled up, a spontaneous reaction to the slightly comical struggle Arthur faced in unraveling the scarf from your neck.

The sound of shared laughter echoed through the entrance and into the home, allowing the others to become alert of your presence.

“Que se passe t’il?” What’s going on? You felt your laugh stop almost instantly.

Charles’ question hung in the air, and for a moment you were caught off guard. The warmth of Pascale’s cozy home surrounded you, but the sudden seriousness in his tone made you pause. You looked into his eyes, searching for any hints of the playful banter that usually characterized your interactions.

He stood not too far away, a soft white hoodie and a casual pair of jeans on. You felt your heart clench with want. You missed him. You wanted to hug him and never let go.

“Rien, juste une journée un peu folle,” Nothing, just a bit of a crazy day. You replied with a sheepish smile. Your attempt to brush off the question with a casual response didn’t escape Charles notice. He studied your face for a moment, trying to decipher your emotions. 

Arthur, sensing some tension, guided you towards the living room and past Charles. As you both settled into the inviting cushions, the crackling sounds from the fireplace filled the room with a soothing rhythm.

Pascale entered the room carrying two glasses of wine. “Ma fille,” My girl she says, a term of endearment feeling much like a warm embrace to you. Pascale handed you one of the glasses with a tender smile, sealing the gesture with a gentle kiss on your cheek. 

Charles’s unease didn’t go unnoticed as he took a seat on the sofa across from you and Arthur. The atmosphere seemed charged with tension, and Pascale’s seemingly casual question carried a weight that went beyond mere curiosity.

“Est-ce que tu vois quelqu’un?” Are you seeing anybody? Pascale asked, her tone gentle but perceptive. The question, on the surface, appeared to be a routine inquiry about your romantic life. However, the underlying context hinted at a concern born out of a missed dinner and deviation from the usual routine. 

The atmosphere in the room shifted as you became acutely aware of Charles’s intense gaze beside Pascale. Seated on the couch, his eyes bore into you with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very core of your being. His eyes, like embers, conveyed a myriad of emotions – curiosity, intensity, and perhaps a touch of scrutiny. 

“Maman, laisse-la tranquille,” Leave her alone. Arthur speaks before you can. A sense of relief filling you up as you take a large gulp of the red wine in your glass.

Pascale scrunches her eyes at Arthur, poised to deliver a retort that only she knows. However, before any words escape her lips, the timer in the kitchen interrupts the moment. “Arthur, viens m’aider.” Come help me. Arthur gives you a sympathetic look before leaving the room following Pascale. 

Lost in thought, your gaze fixates on the flickering flames within the fireplace. The dancing firelight casts shadows that capture your attention, creating a mesmerizing display that seems more captivating than acknowledging a brooding Charles, seated across from you.

“Tu ne peux pas m’ignorer éternellement,” You can’t ignore me forever. His voice interrupts your train of thought, gently pulling you back into the present moment.

The solitary sentence prompts an immediate eye roll from you. How dare he? How dare he pretend that you’re the only one at fault?

“Ne lève pas les yeux au ciel en me regardant,” Don’t roll your eyes at me. The atmosphere shifted as he rose from his seat on the couch, undoubtedly making his way to occupy the now vacant spot beside you. However, the nature of his touch became more intimate than you anticipated. His hands ventured onto your thigh, traveling higher than the boundaries of a typical friendship would permit. 

In a disconcerting turn of events, his other hand gripped your jaw, redirecting your gaze to meet his. The sudden change in physical proximity and the assertiveness of his actions left palpable tension in the air.

“Vas y,” Make me. You provoked him deliberately, seeking to burrow beneath his skin, much like he had already done under yours.

“Viens chez moi.” Come home with me. It wasn’t posed as a question; rather, it was a firm demand – one you were aware you would yield to. You didn’t need to articulate your response; he could discern it just by the slow flicker of your eyes to his. Without another word, you withdrew your chin from his hands and stood up, making your way into the kitchen, and leaving him behind. 

“Nous avons des choses à discuter.” We have more to discuss. You hear him say loud enough for you to hear but low enough for no one else to hear before you cross into the threshold of the kitchen. 

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Discuss.

You laughed mentally at the word. You and Charles were indisputably not engaging in anything resembling a discussion, that much was certain. Unless you consider the dirty phrases, he’s whispering in your ear a discussion.

“Tu es tellement sexy,” You’re so hot. Charles moans into your mouth as he pushes you onto his unmade bed, falling with you in the process. Both of your clothes were long gone— strewn along the pathway you took from his front door to his bed. “Faite pour moi, putain.” Fucking made for me.

He didn’t know where to look, darting from your thighs to your lips to your unforgettable eyes. His jaw flexed as he let out a soft growl deep in his chest as his finger hooked into the band of your delicate silk panties and ripped them from your body. “Je t’en achèterai advantage.” I’ll buy you more. 

He was so impatient. Couldn’t even wait until he tossed your panties to the side before his mouth was on your center. You gasped as his lips enveloped your sensitive clit and getting a full taste of you. He moaned, dipping his tongue inside of you.

You really believed you could die right here and now. He pulled away momentarily just to look at you, glistening and moaning beneath him. It was a sight he wanted to burn in his memory forever. 

“Tu me rends fou." You drive me insane.

You couldn’t stop moaning. You wanted to tell him that he was the one who drove you insane. That the feeling was more than mutual. But you were incoherent with pleasure. Incapable of words.

He curved two fingers inside of you, almost instantly rubbing your g-spot. “Yeah?” He edged you on. His words alone pushing you to the threshold of your orgasm. “Tu aimes ça?” You like that?

His words were nearly as perilous as his touch. He was smirking above you like the cocky motherfucker he was. You felt delusional as his fingers stroked your g-spot continuously that when he flipped you over and pulled you up to your knees, you let out a shriek of surprise. 

You felt your orgasm closing in as he refused to let up on the assault of your clit. Your orgasm came so fast, you couldn’t even warn Charles before you were trembling all over his fingers.

“Oui, soak me.” Your orgasm was explosive, you could feel your legs shaking. Before you could even recover from the last orgasm, Charles was bringing his fingers that were coated in you to his mouth.

“J'ai vraiment besoin de toi,” I really need you. You muttered softly. The confession so raw. It made Charles heart clench with need to ravish you completely. To ruin you for anybody else.

His grip on your hips tightened as he slipped himself inside of you, eliciting a loud groan. “Mon dieu,”My God.  He moaned. “Tu me fais me sentir si bien,” You make me feel so good.

Your pussy clenched tightly around him at his words. His breaths were jagged and heavy in your ear as he took you harder and harder. 

“Ma salope,” My slut. He groaned, bottoming himself out. “My lucky.”

He could tell that you were there already again, the way you were squeezing him so tight and the clench of your hands trying to support you on the mattress. 

“C’est si bien que ça?,” Is it that nice? “Gonna come for me?”

You did. Your eyes wet with tears from the intensity as his hands squeezed your hips, leaving bruises. He didn’t stop the assault on your pussy, kept pounding into you. He was ruthless.

He threw his head back with a string of curses before pressing soft kisses to your back. He didn’t bother to pull out. He wanted you full of him. In all ways, shapes, and forms. He was selfish. You were thankfully on the pill. He held himself there for a few moments before pulling out and rolling you over to your back so you could face him. He buried his face into your neck, leaving small gentle kisses as you both caught your breath. 

Eventually Charles was able to find the strength to stand and clean you up, pressing a warm cloth to your center as he peppered small kisses to the inside of your thighs. You felt your heart flutter as he tossed the cloth into the hamper and joined you back in the bed, pulling you into his chest under the covers.

You could feel his mind was running a million miles a minute as he traced small circles on your skin. He wanted to ask if you went on any other dates. But he couldn’t handle if you said yes. 

“Qu’est-ce que tu as en tête?” What’s on your mind? You asked.

You were preparing for yet another fight. There was no escaping it any longer. The only sound that filled the air was both of your breathing.

“Je veux que tu sois mienne.” I want you to be mine. As you lay on his chest, you sensed his heartbeat quickening. In response, a soft laugh escaped you, uncertain of how to reply. The weight of your reaction hung heavy in the air, adding more pressure. 

You had to put a stop to this. You felt the panic constricting your throat. You couldn’t continue down this path with him. As you tried to sit up and distance yourself from Charles, his hand swiftly seized your arm, compelling you back towards him. He was determined to make you stay, refusing to let you escape from this conversation any longer.

“Non, arête de fuir le sujet,” No, stop running away from it. He insisted, urging you to stop evading it.  “Il sait déjà que tu m’aimes,” I already know that you love me. He declared, his words rushing out of him uncontrollably. It was as if he couldn’t halt the flow, a sense of panic palpable in his voice. 

You loved him; it wasn’t a secret. Fear held you back. The thought of losing him permanently if things didn’t work out was too daunting. So, you’ve tried to maintain a distance, but it was futile. It was as if he had become your vital source of oxygen – indispensable. You found yourself inextricably linked; your souls entwined. 

“Je ne veux pas te perdre!” I don’t want to lose you. You felt the words rush out of your mouth in a frenzy. His touch, his stare, this conversation was all too much to handle. 

“Je t’aime!” I love you! He repeated it over and over. He wouldn’t stop. You could see the anger forming in his face with each proclamation he made. He was angry. Why wouldn’t you listen? Why wouldn’t you believe him?

“Je suis bien avec toi!” I feel good when I’m with you!

“Tu me plait!” You make me happy!

“J’ai envie de t’embrasser!” I want to kiss you!

“Sans toi, je ne suis rien!” Without you, I am nothing!

“Tu es l’amour de ma vie!” You’re the love of my life!

“Je veux passer ma vie avec toi!” I want to spend my life with you!

“Mon dieu, I even breathe better when I’m with you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, but he persisted, like a broken record playing an urgent message. His need for you to understand was palpable. He laid bare his soul, expressing that if it wasn’t for you, it would be no one. The pain in his chest mirrored the intensity of his emotions.

His hands held you tightly, rendering you incapable of moving. He needed you close. In response, you brought your hands to his face, swiftly pressing your lips against his.

You felt him grab your face during the kiss, his thumbs brushing the tears from your eyes in the process. 

“You’re mine. My lucky,” he broke the kiss. “You’ve always been mine.”

Your gazes locked, and you held each other’s eyes for an extended moment, as if attempting to decipher the entirety of each other’s thoughts through this intense connection.

“Oui?” He asked softly, seeking confirmation. He needed to hear you say you were his, a moment he had been waiting for his entire life.  He knew he had you now. But he wanted your words.

You recognized there was no longer an option to escape. You belonged to him, and it wasn’t up for discussion. He possessed your heart and soul entirely. You knew that you needed to take a risk. A risk for him. 

You nodded your head slowly, “Oui.”

TAG LIST: @harrysdimple05 @rachyroo-99 @rana030

[starkwlkr]

banned pt. 2 | charles leclerc

welcome everyone to banned pt. 2 ‼️ in this fic, ruby is 7 and mathéo is 3 and making their ig debut, introducing the schumi kids, mikey and demri <3

It had been years since Ruby introduced herself to social media. Everyone loved her and loved how funny she was. No one ever thought they would get another ‘Ruby goes on social media’ video since Charles had stated multiple times that she was forever on a phone ban. All it took for Charles to give up his phone was a couple of drinks and a distraction from Lorenzo and Arthur who had dared him to jump into the pool.

This time, Ruby wasn’t alone. She had her brother Mathéo with her so the media got to see two Leclercs mess around.

It was a Pascale’s birthday and the family had decided to surprise the mother with a cake and gifts. The Schumacher’s were also invited so Mikey and Demri were hanging out with the Leclerc children. By the end of the night, almost everyone was giggly and singing random songs every now and then.

The kids had just taken a bath after spending most of their day inside the pool. Ruby had come down from her room and saw Charles starting to empty his pockets onto the table.

“Charles! No!” Y/n laughed as Charles was debating whether or not to take his shirt off.

“Jump in fully clothed!” Arthur yelled as Carla tried to get him to shut up.

“Okay.” Charles replied, but before he jumped in, he grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her to the pool. She had no choice but to jump in as well.

Ruby saw Charles’ phone and quickly ran to get it before anyone saw her. Thankfully they were all distracted by drunk Charles. She ran back up to her room where Mathéo was playing on the IPad.

“Théo! Look!” Ruby showed the boy what she had in her hands. “Want to make a video?”

“Does it have games?” Demri asked, following her best friend.

The boy nodded and put away his IPad where he had found it. Ruby and Mathéo were completely different from their personalities to the way they dressed.

Ruby unlocked Charles’ phone and clicked on the instagram app. The first post that she came across was not her mother’s like last time. It was a family picture that was taken yesterday posted on Arthur’s account. She immediately went to the comments and typed one herself.

charles_leclerc yo u snore 😂😂😂

“Ruby, I want to see!” Mathéo whined since his sister was not sharing like they were suppose to.

“That’s my papa’s name!” Mikey pointed to Mick’s username in Arthur’s instagram likes.

“Go get maman’s phone! She has the same thing!”

So the little boy stood up from the floor and ran to get his mother’s phone. Y/n had been charging her phone in her room so Mathéo knew where to find the phone. When he came back, he saw Ruby pointing the phone to her doll collection that had grown since Instagram last saw it.

“Ruby, how do I get the game you’re playing?” Mathéo asked as he handed the phone to his sister.

Ruby sighed and set the phone down on her bed. “It’s not a game, Théo! Look, it’s this one.” Ruby opened up the instagram app on Y/n’s phone and saw the same post she had seen on Charles’ phone. Her fingers accidentally made the screen go from Y/n’s instagram feed to the camera. Demri and Mikey gasped when they saw filters.

“Take a picture!”

“Wait! There’s funny faces!” Mathéo excitedly said and started to put filters on his face. “I want to show papa!”

“No! If you show papa then he’s going to take away the phone and then you won’t be able to play and he’s going to be mad with you and he won’t give you kisses and he’ll give me more kisses. He told me.” Ruby said.

paddockfashion “he told me” me when i lie

forzacha16 room tour when?

schumacherlegacy this is so unexpected i love it

“I can show you papa’s trophies. Um, you have to be quiet because Uncle Enzo and his girlfriend and Auntie Carla and Uncle Arthur are here. I helped maman with grand-mère’s cake and it’s pink and I drew a heart and she loves it.” Ruby had a habit of talking about one topic then talking about another.

“My papa has a room like that too. But his has more because he said my opa’s trophies are in there too. He has a lot. I counted them the other day and I counted a lot.” Mikey explained.

“Where are you going?” Mathéo asked, still holding his mother’s phone in his hands.

“I’m going to papa’s trophy room.”

totowolffisadilf of course charles has a trophy room

gosports44 WHATS HIS CREDIT CARD NUMBER

nomichaelno tell charles to follow me on tiktok

“TikTok? My maman has TikTok.” Ruby said as her and Mathéo walked to the end of the hall where Charles kept all his trophies and helmets in a room.

“Show my helmet!” Mathéo shouted as he pointed to a helmet that Charles had gifted him for his birthday.

“No,” Ruby simply said and pointed the camera towards all the trophies. “I wanted to show the helmets Dem and I have but they’re not here.”During the Monaco Grand Prix, Charles had gifted Demri and Ruby matching helmets with their initials on the side. Ruby had hers in Mick’s house since she had taken it when her and Demri had a sleepover and forgotten it. “never mind this is boring. Uncle Pierre got me more barbies!”

She ran back to her room and dropped the phone. “Ruby! That’s papa’s phone!” Mathéo gasped.

“It was already broken when I got it,” Ruby picked up the phone and saw the comments and lightly gasped when she saw a familiar name.

pierregasly you’re still banned

pierregasly don’t break your papa’s phone

“What does that say?” Mathéo asked as he took the phone from Ruby’s hands.

“You can’t read, I can! It says listen to me and to give me two euros.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does. I know how to read too!” Demri defended her friend.

“You can’t count, how can you read?” Mikey teased his sister.

yukisrestuarant ruby and demri stan until i die

formulasbitch gaslighting era

wagstyle i agree it says give her two euros

“Ruby? Do you have my phone?” The kids heard Charles shout.

“No!”

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 26 - Texas Hold 'Em

The long awaited chapter is here! Thank you all so much for being patient with me!

Next on the schedule is Mexico and then I'm planning to do "Across Every Universe" pt. 2 because I have so many AU ideas that need to be written. The Brazil race is canceled due to a hurricane in my version of the 2024 - for plot purposes.

So get your cowboy hats on and yee-haw here we go!!

Everyone wasn’t surprised when you showed up in a particular outfit in Austin. The fans had been waiting for another themed outfit since you debuted in Vegas last year. So, they weren’t really in awe of what you were wearing. 

What they were surprised to see was the whole grid in matching outfits.

Thee. Entire. Grid. 

And yes, you had somehow wrangled everyone into matching beaver onesies from Bucees. How you convinced Max, Lewis, Kevin, Nico, Zhou, Valtteri, Pierre, and somehow Esteban as well? No one will ever know (there might have been bribes and threats, but they didn’t need to know that). 

Along with the group was a familiar Monegasque, also in the same onesie. You laughed as you saw everyone stair at the massive group. 

“This is amazing,” you giggled behind your hands. 

To be honest, only a few were actually happy to be in the pajamas. (Lando, Daniel, Oscar, Logan, Alex, and Arthur.) The rest could have said no. But who wants to say no to you. 

Photographers flashed their cameras every few seconds. Apparently, fall had actually come that October in Austin, so it wasn’t as hot as everyone thought. For a second, they were thankful to be wearing the long sleeves of the outfits. 

Except when everyone made it back to their respected garages, they all tore them off. However, a couple of them kept them on. And that group was up for a larger media conference. 

On the couch, the order was right to left: Lando, Oscar, Logan, you, Max, Daniel, and then Charles. All of you had yet to take the fuzzy clothes off. 

The interviewer was a little shocked to see the reigning world champion in kids clothing. Yet, they took one look at your smiling face as you animatedly talked to Max, they knew exactly who he was doing this for. 

The conference started, and the drivers put on their media faces, but it was hard to take them seriously when they were all dressed in the brown and bright red. 

“So starting off, what’s the story behind the outfit choices today?” 

All six drivers immediately looked to you, who sheepishly grinned. 

“Yes, Y/n, why don’t you tell the story,” Max said in a teasing tone. You hit his shoulder before raising the mic. 

“Well, it all started when most of the grid had said they hadn’t been to Bucees. And that is like the worst crime known to man. I mean, Daniel and Logan have been, but the others hadn’t.” 

Charles raises his mic next. “So she gets the brilliant plan to text everyone at midnight about going to Bucees.” 

You pulled an accused look. “Hey, everyone didn’t have to respond, but they did.” 

Oscar pulled a face. “I was pretty much dragged.” 

A gasp came from his right and left. Logan shook his head while Lando had his hand on his heart. 

“Osc, I am devastated. You went by your own will. It was also for her birthday, you know this.” 

The journalist piped up. “Happy birthday Y/n.” 

You smiled sweetly at the man, “Thank you so much.” 

Your head whipped to Lando, “Can I get back to the story?” 

The males quieted. 

“As I was saying, I texted everyone cause I was bored. Bucees is open all night so I knew it would be open. And we had the multi-passenger vans, so we could take everyone. I really thought that no one would show up.” 

“Darl, you have little faith in me.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I knew you were coming, you texted me on the side. But when the meeting time came and everyone was down in the lobby, I wasn’t expecting it.” 

The interviewer smirked. “Who drove? We saw that you had a little trouble after Singapore.” 

You, Logan, Osar, and Lando all winced. 

Logan brought his mic up. “Yeah. That one was one me. I didn’t know that roofless cars weren’t allowed in Singapore.” 

Your finger shot up. “At least we weren’t really arrested. The officer was super nice.” 

Lando smirked. “Yep. We got a warning and he let us off.” 

Your hands clapped. “Anyway, Max drove one van and I think Lewis drove the other one?” 

Max jerked his head to look at you, a smile on his face. “Yeah, don’t want you or George taking off again.” 

The microphone picked up the sound of your hand hitting his shoulders. 

“What did everyone think of Bucees?” a man from deeper in the crowd asked. 

Charles brought his mic back up. “Best place on Earth.” 

You watched as everyone climbed out of the vans and stopped to stare at the yellow and red sign. The big beaver was almost smiling down at you. You, Logan, and Daniel watched as the grid stared at the automatic doors and gingerly step inside. 

“Welcome to Bucees!” an overly energized worker shouted. You looked around and were thankful that not many people were there. 

You waved to get everyone’s attention. 

“Ok boys, er, men, welcome to the best gas station on earth. You can find everything your little hearts’ desire so have at it.” 

The group immediately shot out into different directions. You saw Lando and Oscar immediately head to the rows and rows of drinks they offered. You knew that the Brit would definitely get a slushy when he noticed. 

A lot of the older drivers went to the home decoration sections. Lewis and Valtteri were definitely looking at all the cooking supplies. 

Daniel looked down at you. “So ‘darl, where you wanting to go?” 

You had noticed that Logan had broken away to probably visit the vast fishing supply section. There was a high possibility that he had dragged Alex as well. 

Max, Charles, and Arthur were standing next to the coffee. You shuddered as you remembered as all of them drank it straight black. The opposite of what the creamers and flavors were supposed to do. 

“You wanna get a drink and then walk around?” 

You nodded eagerly before grabbing one of the giant cups. A few drivers watched as you and Daniel filled the styrofoam with Dr. Pepper, before going to the coffee station to add cream. 

“What the hell did you just do?” 

Your eyes widened as you looked at Pierre, Max, and Charles (who all had disgusted looks on their faces). 

You held the big cup up as you swirled the liquid. “Dirty soda. It’s really good.” 

Arthur already had his cup, the same way that you did, except his had Root Beer. You had taught him the ways during early 2023 when you two were teammates. The younger Monegasque rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t look disgusted until you try it.” 

Charles still looked at him strangely. “That will completely mess up our diets.” 

Daniel’s hand clapped Charles’ shoulder. 

“That’s the point Charles. Now get a cup and start concocting.” 

You, Danny, and Arthur left them to their devices and confusion and headed for the beef jerky wall. Zhou was staring at all of the flavors with eyebrows pinched. You knew the look of a beef jerky lover with no clue which one to get. You quickly picked on up and handed it to him. 

“The Korean one is my favorite. But the ghost pepper and garlic are a close second.”

The Romeo driver showed you a quick smile before he walked away. You grabbed the flavors that Daniel and Arthur had asked for, as well as two bags for you. Your head swerved as you tried to find the two men. 

Your eyes widened as you heard Danny’s laugh, loud and clear above everything. Your feet quickly took you to the toy and clothing section. By the time you reached them, Daniel already had a onesie on. 

“Great idea Danny,” you said as you gave everything over to your boyfriend, who had smartly grabbed a basket. 

You were quick to put the pajamas on and pose with the Australian. The two of you fell into laughs as you tried to find Arthur’s size. By now, most of the grid came over to see what was going on. Lando’s eyes flashed with mischief as he tried to find ones in his and Oscar’s sizes. 

You grabbed a few off of the hangers and handed them to the drivers you thought would want one. You watched as George and Alex put them on and laughed as you saw that the pant legs were too small and came up before their ankles. 

Before you knew it, the entire grid was in once section. You and Arthur gave each other looks before dashing to Max and Charles, who immediately shook their heads. 

Max gave you a stern look. 

“No, I am not putting one on. End of st-”

Moments later, Max was brooding in a brown and red onesie. The twenty of you goofed around for almost three hours before Lewis suggested that it was time to leave. (He only said something when he noticed that you were dead asleep on Max’s back. And everyone knew that Max had the widest back so ergo, more comfortable for nappage.)  

“So that’s it. And I thought it would be a good idea to come dressed in these.” 

Charles began talking. “So again she sends a text at 5:30 am asking for everyone to wear the onesie.” 

You gave him a playful glare. “Once again, you did not have to wear it.” 

The Monegasque winked back at you (or tried to anyway). 

“But I look good in it non?” 

A scoff arose from Max. 

“You look good in anything mate.” 

You gasped as you looked at the cameras. 

“Everyone heard it right? Lestappen is real!” 

The rest of the group started to laugh loudly as Max and Charles blushed. You wiggled your eyebrows at the Dutchman, making him swat at you. 

You grumbled as you were led away from the conference. 

On Thursday, Arthur was glued to your side as you watched one of the F2 drivers use your car for free practice 1. You watched as he had his eyes sharp on the car, a sigh leaving his lips every so often. 

You bumped his side. 

“We can go to my room if you want to?” 

Arthur didn’t even respond as he made a beeline for it. You quickly took your headphones off before following him. It didn’t take long for you to catch up and slide into the room as he closed the door. 

The moment you turned around, Arthur had you pinned to the door, lips locked tightly. A small gasp left your lips as he pressed into your face. Your hands gripped the polo material and bunched it at his sides. You made quick work to stick your hands against his skin. He let out a small hiss at your cold fingers. 

“Your hands are never warm are they?” he mumbled against your lips. 

“Poor circulation,” you were able to mutter back before kissing him again. 

His left hand had made its way into your hair, lightly gripping the roots. He gently guided your head to the side and decided to attack your neck. 

You shook your head. “Marks. Please no marks.” 

Arthur respected your request as he placed a gentle kiss before going back to your lips. His right hand had made its way under your shirt. It was slightly going up before a knock at the door made him jerk it away.  

You sucked in a deep breath. 

“Yes?” 

“Kid, we’re needed in the garage,” Max’s voice sounded through the door. “Oh, and Charles is looking for Arthur, have you seen him?” 

You wanted to snort at the irony. You patted you hair a bit before responding. 

“I’ll let him know. Be out in a second.” 

You and Arthur held your breath as you heard his footsteps start to grow quiet as he walked away. 

Arthur smirked down at your flushed appearance, happy that he could make you as flustered as possible. 

“I will see you later then?” you asked, placing one last kiss on his lips. “After Sunday the guys are wanting to try to go line dancing if possible to celebrate for my birthday.” 

Arthur nodded excitedly as he stepped back, trying to straighten his shirt. 

“You go first, and I’ll follow a bit after.” 

The plan was a go as you snuck out of your room, looking around as you made your way to the open garage. 

Once Arthur thought he was in the clear, he poked his head out. Not seeing anyone directly, he also snuck around the door. His head was turned around, not seeing the body in front of him. He collided into a firm chest before whipping his head forward. 

He came face to face with Max. Arthur gulped as his hazel eyes met icy blue ones. Max just looked down at the scared 23-year-old. The Dutchman smirked before planning a hand on Arthur’s shoulders. 

“Use protection please,” was all Max said before turning around and walking in the direction that you were headed. 

Arthur glowed red at the statement before heading out. His face definitely matched the shade of his red Ferrari polo. 

Back in the garage, your mouth was wide open as you looked at the leaderboard. 

“How did a Williams get there?” 

The blue “W” shone brightly in the P1 spot. “SAR” was right next to it. 

Christian shook his head as he looked at his notebook. 

“They got an upgrade from Mercedes and decided to use it for this race.” 

Max also was boggled at the sight. You looked back at Christian, wanting to gulp with concern. 

“How are we looking?” 

The Brit sucked in a harsh breath. “Not the best. But we’ll get there.” 

“Hey kid!”

Your head whipped around at the sound of Mitch yelling your name. As you were gawking over the Williams positions, you were completely oblivious to the entirety of the garage getting closer and closer. In her hands was a small-ish white cake. A small Lightning McQueen figure was on top. You let out a small gasp as Max quickly lit the candles that were shaped in a 2 and a 1. 

Everyone soon began to sing a rendition of Happy Birthday. Toward the end of the verse, your eyes started to water. When the song ended, you lightly blew out the candles, earning several rounds of applause at something so miniscule to you. 

Yet, this act of kindness really showed how much your team loved you. Christian tried to shove your face into the cake but he really underestimated how strong your neck really was. If anything, your head didn’t move much. You just gave him a stink eye as you glared at him. 

Mitch gently set the cake in your hands as you just stared at it. The little candles illuminated the tears that were falling down. 

You looked up at everyone. Some were holding their phones, taking photos. Many where mechanics that you really had no relation to. 

You were able to croak out, “Thank you.” 

The cake was split up and soon many were munching down on small slices. You were tucked between Max and Mitch as you ate your slice. 

The Dutchman nudged you just a bit. “You seem quiet.” 

You swallowed as you looked down at the cake. “I’ve never really had this. I’ve only ever celebrated my birthday a couple of times before. A few with Enzo and then with Arthur last year. My teams have never done this before.” 

Max gave you a sad smile, silently noting to continue the tradition of getting a cake. 

On Sunday, “Not the best” became an understatement. 

You and Max had definitely done terribly in qualifying. You two made it out of Q2 by the skin of your teeth, all while Logan and Alex were happily in the top four. Q3 resulted in you and Max getting a respectable P4 and P7. The latter position making it difficult for the Dutchman to be happy with the weekend. 

During the parade on Sunday, you were standing next to the two Williams drivers. You leaned over. 

“So how did you switch out your cars for ours?” 

Logan laughed loudly, currently on cloud-9 as he was on his maiden pole position. Alex was a little jealous but was happy for the blond, since the 2023 season was not very kind. 

Alex decided to join in. 

“While you two were sleeping, we snuck out here and just swapped. Logan is pretty good with spray paint.” 

That had you laughing with your next stretched out and your head leaned back. Suddenly a hand was on your neck as you looked at the arm it was attached too. Oscar was looking at you with big round eyes while it was Lando who’s arm was at the junction of your shoulder and neck. 

You gave the two papaya boys a weird look before Oscar leaned over. 

“You have a little something on your neck.” 

Your hand quickly clapped onto your neck over Lando’s hand. You flushed bright red. 

“I told him no marks.” 

Max, who had seen the entire thing, came over and handed you his pullover. You muttered a quick thank you before pulling the oversized thing on. You just hoped that no one else saw. 

When you changed into your race suit, you stared at the red marks dotting your neck. 

“Arthur Leclerc, I’m going to kill you,” you mentioned to no one in particular. For the Austin Grand Prix you had a Captain America styled helmet. The red, white, and blue shone around the garage as you got into your car. 

You took a deep breath as you looked at the cars in front of you. Logan, Alex, and Oscar were all ahead. Lando, Charles, and Max were behind you. You felt a bit alienated from your teammate, who you normally were able to catch a bit of tunnel from on the way out to bold. 

It kind of reminded you of Monza. 

When it was lights out, you were quick on the throttle. You got the immediate jump on Oscar, putting you in P3 before the first turn. 

However, Alex was really using his degree and the masters in defense. You were frustrated at the Williams driver, yet you were really impressed with how he held you off. 

But, a slow pit stop for them and a fast one for you saw your Red Bull overtaking his easily. Yet, it seemed like the Brit had taken on a student. 

One that goes by the name of Logan Hunter Sargeant. 

You were so focused on your own race that before you knew it, you were over the line with the checkered flag waving freely. 

You pressed your radio button as you taxied. 

“Great race everyone. Congrats to Logan on his first win. Ah, I thought I had him in some places.” 

Mitch on the radio knew you sounded a bit dejected. Since the Azerbaijan race had been canced before the Singapore grand prix, she knew you wanted another race win soon. She knew you were expecting to take the win from Monza and ride on that high for as long as possible. But with a hard podium in Singapore and a car that didn’t work well in Austin, she could see you getting annoyed. 

“What was Max’s position?” 

“P4. The team had a bit of trouble with his tyres. So that’s Sargeant P1, you P2, and Piastri P3.” 

Your eyebrows raised. 

“Good job for Oscar.” 

You undid you steering wheel as you watched the American celebrate his win. The crowds seemed to roar for him as they did for you in Monza. You watched as he ran to his team, who welcomed him home with open arms. 

Funny, he got his first points in Austin last year, and his first win this year. 

Strange how the world worked. 

On the podium, you watched as the crowds placed their hands over their hearts during the Star Spangled Banner. As expected, Logan was shedding a few tears. Oscar looked so happy for the blond. COTA finally brought back the cowboy hats with the numbers on them instead of the flat caps. 

Your mind went back to the Lacy edits on Tik Tok. 

Finally, Logan was no longer being compared to Oscar. 

He could finally be himself. 

You and the Aussie were quick to douse the American in sticky champagne. Logan just laughed as he got sprayed, giving in knowing that he wasn’t going to win against the two of you. 

“Are we still going line dancing later tonight?” you asked him as the three of you stood for a picture. 

“Aw hell yeah! Bring it on Texas! Yee-haw!” 

You took the special cowboy hat off your head and tipped it to the crowd. The two boys doing the same. 

Yee-haw indeed.

williamsracing has posted

williamsracing the man, the myth, the formula 1 race winner! I guess our pronouns are USA

liked by oscarpiastri, y/n.89, logan4president, and 803,193 others

logan4president RAAWWWW WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETER

williamsduo Logan Sargeant win before GTA6

y/n.89 your Americanness is showing

logansargeant yes, and? y/n.89 do not quote ariana grande at me sir

y/n.nation the helmets today were peak >>>

logan2sarg I know right - the eagle on Logan's dannyric Daniel's hook'em horns one was immaculate

iamred_iamyellow so glad they brought back the cowboy hats for the podiums

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 it's a real life boogey and a real life hoedown

liked by arthur_leclerc, redbullracing, circuitoftheamericas, and 750,294 others

y/n.nation HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!!

leclercbros dang, she finally taught Arthur and Charles how to wear cowboy boots

leclerc4ever she just taught them how to dress period

formula_fan does anyone know what went down tonight lol

box_box_express so they went to a local bar, y/n and Daniel taught everyone how to line dance, surprisingly Logan and Oscar are very good at it formula_gossip I was also there, Carlos and max got on the mechanical bull, most of the grid was there, and Fernando was playing darts in the corner with Lando

maxverstappen1 happy birthday kid

y/n.89 thanks maxie! even if you didn't let me get the drink I wanted maxverstappen1 I don't think a fireball is an appropriate drink for your first one y/n.89 right...my first drink...totally

beyonce now that is how you celebrate

f1 YEE HAW

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[norrisleclercf1]

Our Boy

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x SingleMother!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of smut, slight child abandonment, young parent, polyamorous relationship, fluff, angst, worries of sperm donor taking child, etc.

Requested: Yes/No

Words: 2.9K

Pt.2 The Hunt for Fruit

A/N: hehehehehehe

"Elijah! Don't run ahead of me!" Chasing after a 3-year-old in sandals was not ideal, especially when he's just gotten out of daycare and was hellbent on seeing his fathers. "Mama! Hurry up!" People move out of the way, smiling, seeing the familiar face of the little boy whose heart captivated them.

"Elijah, please. Stop right now, or I'll tell your Papa you're being bad." Elijah stops there, not wanting his Papa to know he's been bad for Mama. "No! Don't tell Papa, please." He cries; seeing his little face break, you almost give in but must stay strong.

If anyone didn't know your story, they'd say he was his Papa's little boy through and through. Same dimples, gorgeous baby blues, sadly those eyes he got from his useless sperm donor, you tried not to say ill words about the man. But, he refuses to be apart of Elijah’s life.

You had Elijah at a young age and were unsure what to do. Thankful for your family and family friends that supported you. At four months pregnant, you had met Elijah's Papa; you told him from the beginning you were pregnant, but he didn't care.

Taking Elijah was the best decision of his life. He always wanted a family, and the thought that this one was premade didn't bother him. "Mama, are Papa and Daddy home?" You stop staring at your son's eyes and smile, patting his hair. "Yes, baby. Daddy and Papa are both home."

Elijah takes off. This time he's stopped when he gets scooped up by a particular uncle with dark hair and a beard. "Uncle Enzie!" Elijah cries, seeing his Uncle Lorenzo. He still couldn't say his name entirely, so he was known as Enzie. Only Elijah could call him that, and after Arthur tried to one day and ended up with a bloody nose, no one dared call Lorenzo that.

"Running from Mama again, little troublemaker?" Lorenzo asks, tucking the boy close and running his fingers over Elijah's stomach, making him screech in joy. "No...Mama said she'd tell Papa if I was bad. But, just wanna see Papa and Daddy." He pouts as Lorenzo watches you sprint down the sidewalk carrying a bag of groceries.

"Need help?" Lorenzo doesn't allow you time to answer as he grabs the bag and carries Elijah the rest of the way. "Thank you, I mistakenly told him they'd be home." You groan, seeing Elijah grow restless seeing a certain Pista in the driveway.

"Rookie mistake." Lorenzo only sits the little boy down once he's in the driveway and watches Elijah bolt for the door and throws it open. "DADDY!" Your heart explodes hearing the mixture of Elijah and your 2nd partner. Lorenzo walks past them as you step in the door and close it, watching, and Elijah snuggles into his Daddy, who showers him with kisses and hugs.

When he joined the mix, Elijah was 10 months old. You didn't mean to fall in love with the man before you, but you did. His boyish charm and how carefree he is just drew me in. He backed off when he realized you had formed a family with one of his best friends.

You sat your first partner down and told them everything, how you felt, how he was with Elijah, that seeing him hold him was the most natural thing you've seen. They didn't care that you felt this way and welcomed him.

"PAPA!" You tear your eyes away to see the 1st real love of your life round the corner. He wore jeans with a plain white shirt and was barefoot, so he's been home for some time. "Hey, check him out later. Why not kiss me?" You giggle, seeing Lando come towards you, smirking.

"Lando." He wraps an arm around your waist and gently pulls you in, kissing your lips while Elijah is distracted.

Your little boy was going through a faze where no one else could kiss his Mama except him. "Lorenzo said he was running from you? That true?" Lando asks. The young Brit wasn't one for discipline. That was more Charles's department than his. But, he was raised with manners and ensures his son is raised similarly.

"Lando, Elijah is excited to see his Daddy and Papa. I can't blame the boy for running. Don't tell Charles till later. Let them have this." Motioning to the little boy running circles around Charles's feet. Lando nods, seeing that Charles has given Elijah a new toy. It was a copy of Pierre's new F1 car.

"Come on, Pascale and the others are in the kitchen cooking." Lando grabs your hands and drags you to the kitchen. Charles looks up and smiles, mouthing the words 'I love you' as you pass him.

"Papa? When do you and Daddy leave?" Elijah was getting old enough to notice when they were gone for long periods. Charles and Lando wished Elijah wasn't noticing, but leaving was getting harder and harder as he grew up. "Not for a while Mon étoile. Did you take care of your Mama for us?" Elijah nods, grabbing Charles's hand and walking to the sounds of his Mama's voice.

"Mama was sick. Grand-mère stayed with us." Elijah says. Charles couldn't help but frown. You were sick and didn't tell them? He didn't like that one bit. "But grand-mère is teaching me French now, Papa." Charles smiles and scoops Elijah up, happy he is learning his tongue. "I'm glad, my little star." Kissing his cheek, Elijah giggles, holds his car close to his chest, and lays his head on Charles's shoulder.

"Papa? Can I come with you and Daddy next?" Elijah loved watching the orange and red cars, but at his age couldn't understand it well. Just knew that Papa and Daddy drove them. "Who'll stay with Mama then?" Walking into the kitchen, Charles kisses his mother and you on the cheek.

Lando smirks and leans out, wanting one or two, but Charles smacks Lando on the back of his head. "Hey! Don't hit my Daddy!" Elijah screams, pulling your attention from the vegetables and glaring at the two. "Oh, buddy. I'm okay. Papa was just playing." Grabbing Elijah Lando soothes the boy, who glares at his Papa. Charles rolls his eyes and walks over to you, pulling you into his chest.

"Hey," Charles whispers, kissing your neck. "Hey to you too. Was the flight long?" Cutting the peppers carefully, trying not to get distracted by roaming hands. "It was okay. So, Elijah told me something." Charles hums, resting his chin between your neck and shoulder. "Really? Charles, he's 3. I'm sure he says many interesting things." Elijah was one to say crazy things and not really think them over; he spoke his mind. Too much sometimes.

"Okay... well. He said you were sick, and grand-mère had to come and stay with you?" You stop cutting and curse Elijah for telling Charles that. If one thing Charles hated the most about traveling was when you were sick by yourself. "Char, I had a cold. Elijah had daycare, then swim lessons, and I was knocked down. So your mother came to help. Really, it was nothing crazy." You explain, not wanting to worry him.

Looking up, you see Lando studying you. Elijah was entertained by Lorenzo, who was making funny faces with crackers. "Alright, look, I'm fine now, okay? Really." You soothe, kissing Charles and move, kissing Lando as well, only to feel two hands push you away. "Mama, your kisses mine," Elijah whines, making you sigh and pick him up.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my little prince. Are you feeling left out?" You whine, kissing his cheek as he giggles, squirming around. "Daddy? Can we play?" Elijah asks, giving puppy dog eyes to Lando, who caves instantly. "Of course. Come on, let's let the adults cook. What do you wanna play?" Lando grabs Elijah, their voices floating down the hall to the playroom.

"Oh, sweetie, before I forget. Here's the mail, a letter for you." Pascale smiles, handing the white envelope. It was heavy, but you noticed the scrawl of your name and knew who it was from.

"What's wrong?" Charles asks, getting worried seeing the look on your face. "It's....it's from him." You mumble. Everyone stops and looks at each other. They knew you didn't have a good relationship with your ex, Elijah's....sperm donor. It's not like the relationship ended badly. He wasn't ready for a child, coming from a wealthy family who saw the child as a smear on the family name.

"Well, what'd the bastard send now?" Charles growls as Pascale glares. "Language, my god Charles you have a son." Pascale scolds. "He's not in the room, Mama. Besides, I don't like that you told that..bastard our new home address." You stare at the envelope and then at Charles. "Charles, the man has a right to know where his son is." You hate saying it the moment it leaves your mouth.

"He's not his son. He's ours." You jump as Lando walks in, standing next to Charles. "I'm sorry to ask this, but Pascale, Lorenzo. Can you give us a moment to talk?" Lando asks them, giving off a tense smile. "Of course, dear. Where's Elijah?" Pascale asks softly. "I put him down for his nap," Lando replies, staring right at you.

They move quickly from the kitchen, leaving you with your two partners. "Lando..only meant," "No, I know what you meant, Y/n. But Elijah is our son. Not his." Lando was never one to get angry. When it came to Elijah and his birth father, it was a new person. "Lando, by law, he's still his son. I have to let him know where he is. That way, he doesn't take Elijah." It was never a worry of him taking Elijah.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't try. "Y/n, if that fucker comes anywhere near him-" Charles growls but takes a deep breath to remain calm for this conversation. "Maybe, we should revisit the adoption talk," Lando suggests. It was a talk brought up late one night when Elijah was lying in your shared bed.

He was lying on Charles's chest. Both of them were asleep, the same look on their face. Mouths opened, and cheeks chubby. Lando had brought it up while the two of you watched them sleep, how similar they looked.

"Lando, we can't. Besides, they only allow one name on the adoption papers. I couldn't possibly choose only one of you." Lando and Charles look between one another and shrug. "It should be Charles," Lando says in such a way that it's not up for discussion.

"Lando!" Both you and Charles shout, but he holds his hands up. "Charles was there before Elijah was born! He's always been there. Besides, Elijah knows we're both his fathers. It doesn't matter whose last name he has." Charles shakes his head no, not liking the idea at all. "Lando, he should have both our names, not just mine. He's your son too." You watch them both, seeing how much they've grown together in the past 2 years.

"Wait, wait! Why are we even panicking? We don't know know what he's even sent yet. Shouldn't we see that before we jump ahead?" Lando laughs as he walks over, grabbing the envelope. "I'm opening it." He rips it open. Moving to Charles's side, you hold his hand, squeezing it. Lando opens the papers and skims over them but stops when he flips the page.

"Love, you might want to see this." He holds the papers out, but you shake your head no. "No, Y/n. Baby, it's not anything bad. I promise." Lando grabs your other hand, pulls you into his side, and shows you the papers. Reading them over, you start to cry reading the words. "What? Will someone tell me what's going on?" Charles snaps, worried that his little boy wouldn't be his for much longer.

"Charles.....He...He's relinquishing his parental rights." Charles freezes but snaps back as he snatches the papers and reads them over. "Oh my god! Elijah!" He drops the papers and bolts through the living room, scaring Pascale and Lorenzo. Stomping up the stairs, he throws open the door. Elijah flinches being woken up so suddenly.

Charles moves and picks him up, holding him close to his chest. The poor boy crying, unsure of what is happening. "Shhhh, Mon étoile. It's okay, it's Papa. I didn't mean to scare you." Charles whispers in his ear as poor Elijah clings tight to Charles.

Walking back down, Elijah's cries turn to sniffles. "Jesus, Charles, did something happen?" Pascale whispers walking up to them and scanning over Elijah. "Mama, we'll talk later at dinner. He's okay." He whispers, arms tightening, causing Elijah to whine as Charles enters the kitchen.

"Dammit, Charles." Lando seethes, taking Elijah from him. "Daddy, Papa scared me." He whimpers, koala hugging Lando as you shake your head. "Oh, it's okay, buddy. Papa just missed you so much. He didn't mean to scare you." Lando whispers, soothing down his son's bed hair. Lando sits him on the counter, Charles right there, stuck to his son's side.

Charles never voiced it, but you knew why he was so scared. It was always a thought in his mind that you'd take Elijah and leave them. He was terrified, having woken up many times during the night to check on Elijah to make sure he was still there.

"Charles, he's not going anywhere." You whisper, pulling his attention away from Elijah as he stares at you. "I've always been scared. Every letter, I've been scared." He whispers, moving to you and hugging you, hiding his face in your neck.

"I know." Lando smiles at the two of you and reaches over, pulling the two of you into him and hugging the four of you together. "Papa, sleepy." Elijah whines, which has the 3 adults laugh. "Why don't you and Papa take a nap together, yeah?" Lando suggests. Charles nods and picks up his little boy, and walks out.

"Lando," But he shakes his head, leaning in his silents you with a kiss. "Don't. He's ours, always has been, and always will be. Besides, we should talk about that pregnancy test. Yeah?" Your eyes grow wide as Lando gets a cheeky look on his face and presses his hand to your stomach. "Cold? Please, you're lucky I got to the master bath before Charles. Hide it for you." You let go of the breath you're holding and giggle.

"I was planning to tell you both later this week. Surprise?" Lando shakes his head, laughing, as he kisses you again. "You know...I want a girl this time. Charles has got his little mini. I want my own." You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck, resting your foreheads together.

"Lando doesn't work like that." You tease, but he snorts, not listening. "Hey, I know damn well I knocked you up." Lando bites back. "Oh yeah? And how do you know that?" You ask cocking an eyebrow. "Because it was our anniversary 2 months ago, and if I remember correctly, I had dibs on your pussy, and Charles was-" You cover his mouth, skin burning at the memory as Lando lets a muffled laugh ring in the kitchen.

"Okay, okay. But, it could still be Charles's." You argue, not even caring who was the one who knocked you up, just playing along. He snorts and removes your hand as his hands squeeze your ass, placing kisses on your neck. "Nope, I was tracking your ovulation. Planned it." It dawns on you, then.

"Lando Norris, you didn't." You laugh in shock. "I asked if you were okay with it. You kept moaning, saying, yes, fuck yes." He mimics your moans from that night as you slap his chest. "Wait...are you okay with this? Fuck, I didn't even think this over. Are you okay with another baby?" Lando asks, worry taking over as you shush him.

"Of course, we have talked about it off and on. Lando, you didn't do anything wrong." You reassure him as the Brit takes a breath calming down. "Thank god." You jump, hearing a ringing, and see that a timer was set for the casserole that Pascale had fixed.

"Dinner is ready." You say, making Lando groan, leaving one last kiss on your cheek. "Damn, I was about to work on my dessert." He slaps your ass, moves to the oven, and pulls the dish out. "Pascale? Your casserole is ready!" Lando yells softly, knowing Charles was knocked out on the couch with Elijah.

Pascale comes in and shoos Lando away, Lorenzo walking in with Arthur, who had just arrived having been at SIM practice. He kisses your cheek and tells you your two boys are asleep on the couch. "I'll wake them, fix the salads, love." Lando wasn't allowed to cook food after burning one of Pascale's fish dishes one night.

He walks in there and stops. Elijah was on Charles's chest, moving up and down slowly due to Charles's breathing. Both their mouths are slightly open, cheeks puffy, and dimples showing. Lando smiles, tiptoeing closer. He crouches down, running a finger over Elijah's cheek.

"My sweet boy." Placing a gentle kiss on Elijah's chubby cheek, he cuts his eyes to Charles and smirks. "Oi, wake up." He stabs Charles deeply in the side, making Charles jerk and groan. "Ass." He curses. "Dick. Come on, dinner is ready." Lando rebuttals; Charles chuckles as he rubs the sleep away.

"Hey?" Charles calls softly, Lando looking at him. "He's our boy. Elijah will have both our names. Okay, no one's last name." Charles whispers, settling this talk once and for all. "Yeah, yeah. But the baby has my last name first." Lando sighs, standing. "Fine, I don't care if the baby does," Charles grumbles, standing slowly with Elijah in his arms.

"Wait? What baby?"

[atdawn]

MERLIN | 3.13 The Coming of Arthur Pt. 2

[angelrari]

gossip girl · pt. ii

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader

fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hi! thank you so much for the comments and the love gave to the first part. i am so excited about this!! i hope you like this part a lot!

prev | next

· · · · ·

gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

· · · · ·

the event was extravagant. the guests were all notable people, from celebrities to businessmen, and the tables were perfectly decorated, filled with the finest wines and delicious food prepared by the best catering in town. it definitely was a party to remember, that would be talked about for years and it would solidify jolie's reputation.

"hi, sweetie". you heard a familiar voice say behind you and quickly you turned around.

"oh, hey mom. you look gorgeous". she smiled at the compliment and grabbed the hem of her dress to show off, which made you smile back to her. "where is it from?".

"chanel. it hasn't been the same since karl passed away, but virginie viard does things right, sometimes". she showed her disappointment with a wry face. "you also look fantastic, sweetie".

"thank you, mom". you took a sip of champagne. "where's dad, by the way?".

"oh, he's talking to the red bull kid. what was his name? martin? marcus?".

"max, mom".

"exactly, him. your father decided to invest in red bull a few years ago, after charles and you broke up, and it seems like the kid made him win a lot of money". she explained. "you know, your father doesn't know how to have fun without involving business in it".

"i guess somethings never change". you said and she nodded in agreement.

"look at them". your mother said and discreetly signaled with her gaze. jolie and arthur were dancing together, looking like they were having the time of their lives. "they remind me of-".

"charles and i". you interrupted. "i do feel that way too, but jolie keeps saying they are just friends".

"your sister is ambitious, maybe a little too much, and she won't settle for a formula 2 driver".

"i know". you sighed. "maybe i have to remind her i started dating charles when he was in formula 2".

"please, do. i'd love to have a leclerc in my family and now that you won't-".

"mom!". you interjected and she laughed in response.

"they are nice kids! and their mother is a wonderful person". she added and you rolled your eyes at her words. "anyway, you should go and talk to charles, he asked me about you earlier".

"let me get drunk first, maybe that way it will be less awkward".

· · · · ·

the autumn wind made your cheeks turn red and your hands cold. you were at the rooftop of the casino, where only a few people were. you were exhausted from avoiding charles and léa. somehow seeing them together made your stomach turn. what if they already felt this way when charles and you were dating? were there signs? did you miss them?

"y/n". you heard someone say and jumped at the sound of their voice. you turned around to face them, with both of your hands on your chest, feeling the heartbeat increase rapidly.

"oh, god". you breathed out, embarrassed by your reaction. "you scared me, max".

"sorry, i didn't mean to". he quickly apologized, smiling back at you.

"don't worry". you said. "how have you been? it's been a long time since i last saw you".

"eveything's good, yeah. i've been working a lot, but that's not exactly new, and things have been working well for me so far". the dutchman explained. "how about you? your father told me you were studying at harvard?"

"yeah, i just finished a master in business administration there and i came back a couple of days ago. i rushed it a bit to be able to attend to jolie's birthday today".

"and how come you're here?".

"to be honest, i kind of wanted to avoid some people". you answered and he laughed.

"right, charles and léa".

"i didn't name anybody!". you quickly replied and he chuckled.

you stared at the sea, feeling max join beside you. a cold wind breeze made you shiver and you moved your hands up and down your arms to warm your body up. max, who had noticed, took off his black blazer.

"here, take this".

"oh, no, you're gonna be cold and-".

"please". he pleaded and you nodded. he placed the black blazer and your shoulders and you smiled sincerely.

"thank you, max".

"it's nothing". he said and looked ahead of him. "i'm trying to get away from your dad and his friends". he confessed.

"i feel you, they just don't know when to stop. my mom has been also chasing me, telling me to go talk to charles and, please don't tell him, but that's the last thing i want to do".

"don't worry, i understand. it mustn't be easy to see your ex and the girl who used to be your best friend together".

"it's not". you agreed. "it's just- many things come back, you know? i do wish them the best and i hope their relationship lasts, but somehow it makes me question so many things. i keep thinking when did all of this start and if they liked each other when charles and i-. fuck, sorry, i'm drunk and i'm talking too much".

"it's okay". he reassured. "i know you probably don't like the advice i'm about to give you, but i think you should talk to them".

"i know, but léa hates me for leaving and i don't wanna mess things up between charles and i more. jolie and arthur are such good friends and i am scared of the consequences. i just- i don't want to start a war".

"you know this way you will never find peace, right?". he asked and you nodded. "you're gonna see them often. that's the downside of monaco. you're gonna attend the same events and you're gonna hang out with the same people". he turned around and his blue eyes starred directly at yours. "there's just no way to avoid this".

"i know, but i'd rather not do this tonight". you confessed. "thank you, max".

"what for?".

"for all of this. you probably have better things to do and here you are listening to my problems".

"well, you're helping me hide from your father, so i think that makes us even". he joked and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"i will keep your secret too".

"please, do". he begged. you starred at the moon, but he starred at you. "what are you thinking?".

"about how to leave this party without my parents noticing".

"well, i've got an idea". he said. "follow me".

max put out his hand to you and you took it. you followed him to the elevator and when you reached the first floor, where the party was taking place, he slyly guided you to a back door you didn't know it existed.

"you know, most times, when we come to the casino, we enter through this door". he explained. "people who don't want to be seen use this".

"right".

max quietly opened the door, praying nobody would be outside, but unluckily your dad and his friends were smoking near the exit. you looked at max, who starred back at you worried, grabbed his hand and started running so your father wouldn't stop you.

"y/n!". your father exclaimed.

"sorry dad! see you!". you said still running to max's car.

max took out his car keys and opened the door of his porsche for you. you sat on the front passenger seat and, a few seconds later, he joined you, sitting on the driver's seat.

"i swear the adrenaline rush i've got it's better than when i race". he said chuckling and afterwards he started the engine of the car.

the city lights let you appreciate the ocean blue in his eyes. max focused on the road ahead, but his smile didn't fade. he was attractive. hands on the wheel and eyes locked on the road, you could sense the confidence on his driving and somehow you felt safe.

· · · · ·

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taglist: @cha-hot @carlandonorri-s @raizelchrysanderoctavius @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @crlsummer

[earlgreyinpajamas]

merthur fic recs masterlist

last updated: 8 Jan 2024

authors

vintagelilacs

aus and fusions

arranged marriage au, pt 2, pt 3

college/university au

different first meeting au

hanahaki au, pt 2, pt 3

high school au, pt 2

hogwarts au

modern au, pt 2

modern with magic au, pt 2

modern royalty au, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8

pride and prejudice au

regency au

social media au, pt 2

soulmate au, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10

s2e10 fix it

wing fic

arthur

actor!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

bond girl!arthur

detective!arthur

himbo!arthur

jealous!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8

pining!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9

pregnant!arthur

protective!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

oblivious!arthur, pt 2, pt 3

spy!arthur

virgin!arthur

merlin

assistant!merlin

bamf!merlin

consort!merlin, pt 2, pt 3

detective!merlin

druid leader!merlin

enchanted!merlin

exhausted!merlin, pt 2

flustered!merlin

hurt!merlin, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

irish!merlin

jealous!merlin

knight!merlin

oblivious!merlin, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

pining!merlin, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

royal!merlin, pt 2

selkie!merlin

spy!merlin

virgin!merlin

other tropes and categories

00q fusion

5 + 1 things, pt 2, pt 3

accidental marriage

amnesia

angst with a happy ending

arthur courts merlin

arthur finds out about balinor

arthur finds out about freya

arthur knows about merlin’s magic

arthur loves merlin’s magic eyes

arthur’s donkey ears

arthur returns, pt 2

balinor lives

bathing

bed sharing, pt 2

bedside vigils

bets

comfort fics

coming out

crack, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

dragon dads

drunkenness

enemies to lovers

fake/pretend relationship, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

fandom iconic fics

fav aus

fav fics

figure skating

flowers, pt 2

fluff

forced proximity, pt 2

fuck or die

getting back together

getting together, pt 2, pt 3

getting together with the help of technology

hurt comfort

hurt no comfort, pt 2

hypothermia

kid fics, pt 2

kinktober

love spells and potions, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

lovers to enemies

magical exhaustion

magic reveal, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10

married/engaged merthur

meddling knights, pt 2, pt 3

merlin dies

merlin goes insane to get arthur back

merlin knows about arthur’s pining

merlin leaves camelot

merlin sleeping in weird places

merlin teaches arthur about sex/kissing

morgana and merlin friendship

not actually unrequited love

ot4

outsider pov

parties

protective!knights

remixes

role reversal

royal balls

scar reveal

secret relationship, pt 2

theatre/drama

time travel

truth potion

underappreciated fics

weddings

wedding stopping

wound cleaning

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Complete master post of all spicy stories below!

Peaky Blinders

Comfortable - Thomas Shelby x Reader - Pt 1. Pt 2

While everyone else is away you get stuck at home with Tommy planning Polly’s Birthday party. Normally the two of you fight and bicker constantly. This time something different happens.... Loss of virginity, sex, enemies to lovers

Jealous - Thomas Shelby x Reader - Pt 1. Pt. 2

Tommy gets jealous when the reader runs into an old friend at the ar. Friends to lovers, confession of feeling, Pt 1 is all fluff & Pt 2 is all spice

Are You Asking? - Thomas Shelby X Reader

A younger reader (legal) who is friends with Ada surprises Tommy when she comes back from a trip abroad. Fluff and Smut

Tipsy - Thomas Shelby X Reader

Tommy teases the reader for getting tipsy, he walks her home and sees what happens. Hurt /Comfort & mild smut

The Italian Spy - Thomas Shelby X Reader

The Reader is an Italian girl who wants Tommy's help but gets a lot more than she bargained for. Hurt comfort & smut

Bloody Hell - Thomas Shelby X Reader

Things get messy when Tommy goes after the Italian cook in the kitchen. Explicit sex while being covered in blood

Threesome - Thomas Shelby X Reader X Alfie Solomons Pt.1 Pt.2

Double penetration with Alfie and your husband Tommy - Possessive & rough

Bubbly - Thomas Shelby X Reader

Super smart reader, struggles of being very pretty and anxiety, Falling for your boss. Fluff, & mild smut

Fix It - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Sex, fighting, depression, drinking, drug use, unhealthy weight loss, Esme & Polly to the rescue, Tommy fixes it. Hurt/comfort, Fix it fic,

Arranged Marriage - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Sex, loss of virginity, slow burn, falling in love, fluff and smut

Wedding Night - Thomas Shelby X Reader

 Sex, loss of virginity, fluff, cuteness, rough sex, the reader gets a little bruised but she’s happy about it

Tiny Dancer- Thomas Shelby x Reader

Sex, hurt comfort, falling in love, Shelby family drama, happy ending, hurt comfortt

Jealous Wife - Thomas Shelby X Reader

Tommy's young wife gets jealous of all the attention he gets. Rough emotional sex

Dom Assasin Reader X Thomas Shelby

A violent and sexy tale of revenge...

Mustache - Michael Gray X Reader

reader has a gun, negotiation that ends in sex, woman on top, taking what she wants, no thoughts of consequences, happy cheeky ending.

Never Safe For Work - Thomas Shelby X Reader -- Pt2

A reader with a high sex drive, and the things Tommy does to keep up - with Gifs

High Sex Drive - Arthur Shelby X Reader

Arthur Shelby trying to keep up with his wife - With Gifs

Enemies Make the Best Lovers - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Reader and Thomas are well-known rivals when a business trip from hell forces them to work together they must overcome their rocky past

Tangerine

Stop the World

After years of working against each other out in the field. This time you decide its best to team up - the aftermath leaves you weak in the knees

Tangerine Dream

Blue light room smut - you meet a man at the club and decide to go upstairs.

Baby Girl

Tangerine and the Reader get caught in a sticky situation and he finally understands the effect he has on her - Heavy Dom / Sub

Sherlock Holmes

Irene - Sherlock X Reader

The Reader is not impressed with Sherlock's long-time friend. SMUT

[orchidniins]

oh i NEED pt 2 of Serendipitous Beginnings🙏

Serendipitous Beginnings Pt. 2 | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Y/N and Arthur finally spend some much time together and go on their first date. Between movie nights and cute museum dates, it's clear they've fallen hard for each other. Pairings: ArthurTV x afab!Reader Warnings: Mature content, Smut, Fluff Word Count: 6k

A/N: Thanks to everyone who showed love on my first post! I wanted to write a part 2 for this with all the cute little ideas in my head. This fic is basically a little collection of events and just a little sprinkle of smut right at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You awaken on Saturday, later than your usual wake-up time, feeling a faint headache throbbing behind your temples. Despite the headache, your mind is abuzz with the memories of last night's conversations with Arthur. The lingering memories of the night's events are still fresh in your mind.

As you reach for your phone, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, eager to see if Arthur had messaged you. Sure enough, his name lights up your screen, and you can't help but feel a rush of happiness as you read his message. The two of you had stayed up pretty much all night texting, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you.

Eventually, it was mutually decided to stop texting and finally catch some sleep, but now, even with maybe only two hours of sleep, you're still buzzing with excitement to keep the conversation going. You couldn't help but grin at your phone, fingers tapping out quick replies

Arthur: Hey! Morning! 😊 Arthur: Did you manage to get any sleep in? Y/N: Hey! Good Morning 😊 Y/N: Yeah, I did. Just barely. Did you sleep well? Arthur: Yeah, I managed to get a few hours in too. Couldn't stop thinking about our conversation though. Y/N: Haha, same here! I guess we'll just have to continue it in person, huh? 😉 Arthur: Did you wanna maybe grab some lunch today? Y/N: That sounds great! I'd love to. Where were you thinking? Arthur: How about that place we talked about yesterday? Y/N: Perfect! Can't wait 😊

Eagerly agreeing to meet Arthur for lunch, excitement courses through you at the thought of spending more time with him. However, as you're about to set your phone down, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You had completely forgotten about your plans with Sienna to meet up with a mutual friend who was in town for the weekend.

Y/N: Hey, Arthur! I'm so sorry, but something's come up for today. Can we reschedule for tomorrow? Arthur: Oh, no worries! Tomorrow won't work for me, I've got a shoot scheduled. Y/N: Ah, got it. No problem. Maybe another time then? Arthur: Definitely! Let's figure something out soon. 😊

After a bit more back-and-forth, the conversation trails off, leaving you feeling disappointed that your plans with Arthur didn't pan out. With a sigh, you set your phone aside and get out of bed, heading towards Sienna's bedroom to check in on her.

Entering her room, you find her sprawled out on the bed, half of her body hanging off the edge, her hair messy and makeup smeared. You try to wake her up gently, but she protests, murmuring, "No, not yet, five more minutes."

"Siii," you say, nudging her shoulder, "you know I turned down a date for this lunch today, so you better get up, or I'm gonna have to use violence." Sienna groans in response, still half-asleep, but your mention of a date piques her interest. "A date? What do you mean, a date?" she asks, her eyes fluttering open as she tries to grasp the situation.

You chuckle at her confusion. "I was just kidding, but we better make it to that café on time. You're the one who insisted we go there, even if it's a 50-minute drive from here. Now, get up." Sienna, still groggy, fixates on the idea of a date. "Okay, but what date?" she mumbles, her words slurred with sleep.

With a laugh, you shake your head and say, "Nothing, just get ready," before leaving her room to get ready yourself.

———————-

Over the next few days, despite the promise to meet up, neither you nor Arthur seemed to find the time. It had been over a week since the initial plan was made, and your schedules were keeping you both occupied. Arthur had spent a few days away from London for a shoot, while your own commitments to classes, coursework, and your TA job filled your days from dawn till dusk.

The conversation between you over text seemed to flow effortlessly though. Whether it was during breaks between classes or late at night after a long day of work, hours slipped by unnoticed as you traded stories, shared interests, and laughed at each other's jokes. Even through the screen, you felt like there was undeniable chemistry.

In person, however, it was a different story. Whenever you crossed paths with Arthur in person, whether for the few minutes you had while entering or leaving your apartment, the atmosphere became charged with a hint of awkwardness. Your face-to-face interactions were tinged with an unspoken tension. Probably owing to the fact that neither of you had addressed the hot and steamy kiss shared the other night, leaving many unanswered questions. And neither of you knew how to broach the subject, leaving the issue lingering between you like an elephant in the room.

Today, you're rushing out of your apartment, a whirlwind of activity as you stuff papers into your backpack, your mind preoccupied with the evening class you volunteered to handle for a professor.

You stand outside the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently, waiting for the doors to open. As they slide open, you're about to step in when you're met with Arthur's smiling face.

"Hey," Arthur greets you warmly, his eyes brightening at the sight of you.

"Hey," you reply, mustering a smile as you step into the elevator beside him.

"How're things going?" Arthur asks, his voice laced with genuine interest.

"All good," you respond, offering a brief nod. "Just heading to TA for an evening class."

Arthur nods in understanding. "You've been pretty occupied lately, huh?"

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, well you know… Where are you off to?"

"I'm meeting some friends for a drink.", Arthur responds.

"That sounds fun," you say, though inwardly you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that your paths are diverging once again.

The elevator ride continues in silence, the awkward tension lingering between you like a thick fog. You bite your tongue, racking your brain for something to say to break the uneasy atmosphere. Finally, just as the elevator doors slide open, you blurt out, "Are you free tomorrow night?"

Arthur's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Um, I think so," he replies, sounding intrigued.

"I was thinking of having a movie marathon," you explain, feeling a surge of nervous energy. "And I was hoping to have someone along for it."

A hint of a smile plays at the corners of Arthur's lips. "That sounds like a plan," he says, his eyes brightening with interest. "What were you thinking of watching?"

You grin, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "How about 'The Lord of the Rings'?" you suggest eagerly.

Arthur's eyes light up at the suggestion. "Yes! I love Lord of the Rings. Have you watched the extended versions? If not, we could watch those," he says, genuine excitement in his voice.

Just as excited, you reply, "Yeah! I’d love that."

"Great, sounds like a plan," Arthur confirms with enthusiasm.

Feeling a weight lift off your shoulders, you say, "My place tomorrow? I’ll text you the time."

"Definitely. I'll see you then," Arthur replies.

With that, you bid Arthur goodbye as you step out of the elevator, feeling a sense of excitement building in your chest. Maybe this movie marathon would finally give you the chance to address the elephant in the room and see where things could go with Arthur. But your thoughts are interrupted by the fact that you didn't want to be late to set up for class. You wave him goodbye and head out.

———————-

Before you know it, the day of your movie night arrives. You make sure to stock up on snacks and drinks, preparing for a cozy evening. With Sienna out of the city for work till next week, you have the place all to yourself. You take the time to set up the couch with extra pillows and grab an additional blanket from Sienna's room, ensuring everything is just right for your evening with Arthur.

However, for a fleeting moment, you can't help but overthink why you're going to such lengths. It's not like this was a date, just two friends hanging out. But you quickly brush off the thought when you hear a knock on your door. Taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves, you stride over to the door and swing it open, revealing Arthur standing on the other side.

"Hey!" he greets you with a warm smile, holding up a bag of snacks. "I brought some snacks for movie night. Hope you like popcorn and chocolate!"

You return his smile, feeling relieved at the sight of him. "That's perfect! Come on in," you say, stepping aside to let him enter. "I've set up the living room for our movie marathon. Make yourself at home."

As Arthur steps in, you close the door behind him, trying your best to calm your nerves. Tonight was supposed to be fun, you remind yourself, a simple movie watching experience between friends. Definitely not a date, just two friends hanging out.

You settle onto the couch, gesturing for Arthur to join you. He takes off his jacket and joins you. There's a brief moment of silence as you both get comfortable, but you're determined to keep the atmosphere light.

"So, how's your week been?" you asked, turning to Arthur in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

Arthur leaned back against the cushions, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Kind of busy," he replied with a chuckle. "Filming schedules have been hectic lately, but it's been pretty fun filming with my mates. How about you?"

You shrugged, a wry smile playing on your lips. "Same old, same old. Classes, TA gig, grading papers, dealing with undergrads….," You trail off, not wanting to bore him with the details of your day-to-day responsibilities.

But Arthur seems genuinely interested. "I bet you're great at it though," he says, leaning closer, his eyes sparkling with sincerity.

You feel a warmth spread through you at his words, grateful for his encouragement. "Haha, thanks, Arthur," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, your eyes locked with his.

As the movie progressed, you found yourselves immersed in discussing your favorite scenes and characters. The initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by an easy flow of conversation and laughter, and soon the movie became nothing more than background noise.

Before long, you realized that as the conversation flowed, you were sitting much closer to Arthur. Your knees brushed against each other as you faced one another on the couch. His arm draped over the back, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Lost in the moment, you couldn't help but wonder why you had ever felt awkward around him in the first place. It felt as though the universe had conspired to bring you together. The desire to kiss him again bubbled up inside you, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

With each passing second, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the palpable tension between you, leaving you hopeful that perhaps Arthur felt the same way.

In the silence that followed, the air between you seemed charged with anticipation. Slowly, almost hesitantly, the two of you leaned in towards each other, the space between you narrowing with each heartbeat.

His gaze met yours, "This feels familiar," Arthur murmured, breaking the silence. You couldn't help but laugh, relieved that at least one of you had acknowledged it.

"Does it now?" you replied, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "So, you do remember."

"How could I forget?" Arthur's voice was barely above a whisper, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "It's been on my mind ever since."

As he leaned in closer, a surge of excitement coursed through you. "Well, good then," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. Without hesitation, his lips meet yours.

You shifted closer, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. With a gentle but firm grip, he pulled you onto his lap, your bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were meant to be intertwined. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

You melt into each other in a passionate kiss, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own private universe. His lips were soft, moving with a rhythm that matched yours. With each brush of his lips, it sends the blood rushing down to your core.

Lost in the heat of the kiss, you pressed yourself closer to him. Tangling your hands in his soft hair, savoring the feeling of his arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you found yourself lost in his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. And you couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at you with such intensity.

As you both caught your breath, a wave of relief washed over you, the tension that had been building between you finally dissipating. With a gentle smile, he breaks the silence, his voice soft but determined. "Let me take you on a proper date," he says, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Okay," you chuckle softly, feeling excited at his words, a fluttering in your stomach as you look back at him. "I’m free this Friday," you reply, your voice filled with warmth. With a playful smile, you lean in and give him a little peck on the lips.

———————-

You were thrilled when Arthur suggested meeting at the history museum after class, eagerly looking forward to spending time together. You even took the extra effort to dress up a bit for the occasion. However, as you hurriedly made your way there, excitement turned to frustration as you realized you were running late. The class you were assisting in had unexpectedly extended, leaving you racing against time as the museum's closing hour approached. You quickly texted Arthur, apologizing for the delay and assured him that you were on your way, determined to make it there as soon as possible.

Y/N: Hey, sorry I'm running a bit late 😅 Y/N: Class ran over, but I'll be there soon! Arthur: No worries at all. I'm just glad you can make it Arthur: Take your time 😊

With determination, you quicken your pace, determined not to let the opportunity slip away. As you finally arrive at the museum, you spot Arthur waiting patiently outside the entrance. He looks great, dressed in a nice crewneck sweatshirt and black cargos, it makes your heart skip a beat at just how good he looked.

You hurry over to him, eager to make up for lost time. "Hey!" you exclaim, a wide smile spreading across your face as you reach him.

"Hey," Arthur greets you warmly, his eyes lighting up with genuine delight at the sight of you. He opens his arms, inviting you into a warm embrace.

You gladly accept the hug, reveling in his warmth and the comforting scent of his cologne. "Sorry I'm late," you say softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze.

Arthur shakes his head, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "No need to apologize. I'm just happy you're here now," he assures you, his voice filled with warmth.

You feel a surge of relief at his response. "Thanks for waiting," you say gratefully, reaching out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Arthur squeezes your hand back, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Of course, it's no problem. We can always do something else if the museum's closed," he suggests, ever the considerate gentleman, despite the museum being almost 15 mins past closing.

But you shake your head, determined not to let the evening go to waste. "No, no, just trust me on this," you insist.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your enthusiasm. "Alright… I trust you," he says with a smile, willing to go along with your plan.

With a grin, you take Arthur's hand and lead him towards the side entrance of the museum. As you walk, you quickly glance at your phone to confirm the last-minute plans one final time, the ones you made on the subway over, sending a quick text message. Then, slipping your phone back into your pocket, you look up to flash Arthur a smile, and he returns it with warmth in his eyes.

You head to the side entrance and spot your friend. Waving enthusiastically, you exchange greetings and shake hands, expressing your gratitude once again. "Thank you again, I owe you big time," you say appreciatively.

"Not a problem at all," your friend responds warmly as he lets the two of you in "Anything for a friend. Just make sure to leave before 8 p.m."

You nod in agreement and turn to Arthur, excitement bubbling within you as you lead him inside. His curious gaze prompts you to explain the situation. "That guy was an old graduate advisor of mine," you begin, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "He's works here as a curator now."

Arthur's eyes widen with interest as he looks around, taking in the museum's atmosphere. "I have to say… that’s quite impressive," he remarks, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, his job's pretty cool," you reply, nodding in agreement.

But Arthur interrupts you before you can say anything further. "No, not that… you. You are quite surprising… in a good way," he adds with a playful smirk, his hand still holding yours. You feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks at his compliment.

You chuckle softly, feeling shy at his words, "Just give me more time to impress you further with my wildly interesting mind," you playfully quip, unable to contain the grin that spreads across your face.

Arthur's smile widens in response, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he admires your playful banter.

Turning away to hide your embarrassment, you reply, "Anyways, we have two hours now… best not waste any time," as you pull him towards the main hall.

The museum is bathed in the soft glow of a few lights, casting a gentle ambiance over the now empty hall. Excitement courses through you as you eagerly lead Arthur around, pointing out each exhibit with enthusiasm. Arthur listens intently, his eyes filled with genuine interest as he witnesses how passionate you sound.

With each second passing, he finds himself increasingly impressed by just how intelligent you are, finding himself melting at each of your words.

He often found himself just looking at you, mesmerized by your beauty, and sometimes forgetting to even glance at the displays. It still felt surreal to him that you were here with him right now.

"You know," you share, a hint of nostalgia coloring your voice, "when I was a kid, my dad used to bring me here whenever he had work in the city. He’d always bring me along with him."

"It's always been one of my favorite places in London," you conclude with a smile.

Arthur smiles warmly, his admiration evident as he responds, "I can see why."

As the two of you continue to explore the halls, the world outside the museum fades away, leaving you in your own private sanctuary. Stolen glances, brushes of hands, and a shared electricity fill the air, making this the most enjoyable date you've ever had.

As the evening progresses, you find yourselves completely immersed in each other's company, sharing stories and laughing without a care in the world. Arthur's admiration for you grows with each passing moment, his heart feeling lighter in your presence. Lost in the magic of the moment, you both find yourselves laughing and running around the museum halls, creating memories that will last a lifetime. Arthur captures candid photos of you, the echoes of your laughter filling the empty corridors.

Caught up in the magic of the moment, Arthur can't help but stare at you with admiration, his eyes drinking in your beauty. You stand before a display of jade artifacts, leaning closer to examine the intricate details, while sharing a story about a similar find or an excavation you volunteered on last year. "This is fascinating, isn’t it?" you remark, turning to Arthur with a sparkle in your eyes.

As you await his response, you're met with a lingering gaze, his eyes intense and unwavering. Feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks, you can't help but inquire with a small chuckle, "What?"

"You know," he begins, his voice soft with sincerity, "you're absolutely stunning."

You chuckle at his compliment, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks. "Oh, stop it," you tease, playfully nudging him. "You're not so bad yourself."

His gaze remains fixed on you, his expression filled with genuine affection. "I mean it," he insists, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're truly amazing."

You meet his gaze, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you joke, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "But I must say, you're not so bad at dishing out compliments either." You pause, your tone softening. "Thanks, Arthur."

Arthur smiles warmly, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Anytime," he replies, his hand squeezing yours gently. "I just call it like I see it."

With a contented sigh, you fully face him now, reveling in the comfortable silence that envelops you both. The quiet of the museum amplifies the intimacy of the moment, and you find yourself drawn to Arthur, his presence filling you with warmth and affection.

Arthur leans in closer, his heart pounding in his chest as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulls away slightly, his breath tickling your skin.

You smile back at him, your cheeks flushed as your hand finds the back of his head, gently pulling him closer. As your lips meet his, you eagerly return the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours. In that moment, nothing else matters, not caring about the passing time or potential interruptions.

As you reluctantly pull away, a soft smile plays on your lips. "It's getting late," you murmur, glancing at your watch. "A lot later than we were supposed to stay."

Arthur rests his forehead against yours, smiling down at you. "Okay, let's head back," he suggests, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.

"But hey, how about we grab dinner on the way back?" you suggest, a playful glint lighting up Arthur's eyes as he nods eagerly.

With a smile, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers as you make your way out of the museum. As you walk, you take a moment to text your friend, expressing your gratitude for letting the two of you sneak in and apologizing for overstaying your welcome.

———————-

After leaving the museum, the two of you walked a few blocks to a cozy restaurant nearby, to grab some food before you sadly had to end your date. The warm glow of the restaurant's interior welcomed you as you stepped inside, finding a quiet corner to enjoy your meal together.

As you savored each bite and shared lighthearted conversation, it became evident that neither of you were quite ready to end the evening just yet. With a reluctant sigh, you eventually found yourselves back in the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you stood side by side, nerves buzzing beneath the surface. Unable to resist the urge any longer, you finally turned to Arthur, your voice tinged with nervousness. "Do you want to come back to mine?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

Arthur's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting a hint of apprehension. Slowly, he nodded his head, his own nerves evident.

He had been to your place before, but tonight felt different, the stakes somehow higher, or perhaps that was just the horny part of his brain taking over. He wanted nothing more than to be glued by your side, yet he also wanted to be respectful of your boundaries, especially after the wonderful time you had today.

A nervous chuckle escaped him as he tried to ease the tension. "I'd love to," he replied with a slight voice crack. You couldn't help but laugh, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably, joined by his as you both shared in the moment, breaking the tension that had settled between you.

As soon as you and Arthur step into your apartment, the door closes behind you with a soft click, enveloping you both in the intimate glow of the dimly lit space. The air feels somewhat thicker, and though you had spent quite a cute and romantic evening, all you could think about was just how much you wanted him right now.

As if on autopilot, your body moves on its own accord. You close the distance between you in an instant, pressing your lips against his. Your hands instinctively find their way to his firm chest, while his slowly rise to grasp your waist, pulling you closer as you usher him further into the apartment. The kiss is hungry and urgent, reflecting the desire between you two.

You continue to kiss each other, your lips locked in a fervent kiss. Occasionally, you break apart just long enough to catch your breath. As the heat between you grows, your hands roam eagerly.

In the midst of your passionate exchange, you manage to breathe out a whispered "Bedroom," your warm breath grazing his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Without hesitation, you both stumble together towards the bedroom, both of you equally as eager.

Once you're in your bedroom, you guide him to sit on the edge of the bed, your movements fluid and confident. You position yourself between his legs, feeling the heat radiating from his body as his hands find their place on your hips, pulling you closer.

You lean in, capturing his lips again, igniting a fiery passion between you. His hands trail up the back of your shirt, leaving tingles in their wake as you deepen the kiss, your fingers tangling in his soft, fluffy hair.

With newfound boldness, his hands move down to your ass, giving it a teasing squeeze that sends a jolt of electricity through you, before he trails his hands down to the back of your thighs.

Arthur pulls you onto his lap, a low hum escaping his lips as you shuffle over his growing arousal. You bite down on his bottom lip, a gasp escaping you as you feel the hardness beneath his clothes. "God, Arthur," you breathe out, your voice heavy with desire as his hands continue to knead the soft flesh of your thighs.

As your shirts come off in the heat of the moment, your hands eagerly explore his body, tracing every contour and eliciting soft groans from him. His mouth and tongue muffle your shuddering gasp as you grind yourself against his clothed crotch, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Your kisses grow more passionate, tongues intertwining, exploring each other's mouths desperately.

You pant out his name, your body overtaken by the intense sensation, but Arthur suddenly pulls away from the kiss and grips your hips firmly, halting your movements. Confusion clouds your expression, wondering if this wasn't what he wanted after all.

He notices the flicker of self-doubt in your eyes, his hand instinctively reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his smile as reassuring as ever. "Don't worry, darling," he begins, his voice gentle yet earnest. "I love what we're doing, don’t get me wrong…big fan of sex, and you are incredibly sexy. But I just want to make sure you know that I like you very much, Y/n. I mean, really like you. This is more than just something physical for me. I love spending time with you, and I think you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the opportunity to lay my eyes on."

You melt at his heartfelt words, a blush creeping up on your cheeks at his sincerity. Arthur's genuine expression reassures you, his intent clear as day. It's endearing how he takes the time to ensure there's no doubt in your mind about his feelings.

You reach for his face, holding it gently between your hands as you stare deeply into his captivating eyes. "I really like you too, you know," you admit, sincerity echoing in your voice. "I don't just jump into bed with any odd guy." A smile dances on your lips as you share a brief moment of understanding, sealing it with a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

As you pull back, his fingers linger on your waist for a few seconds, sending goosebumps rippling across your skin in a sweet, tingling sensation.

As you resume kissing, your hands begin to trail down to the button of his trousers, starting to undo them. But once again, Arthur stops you, gently pulling away from your embrace. "Wait," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "Lay down on your back for me."

You comply, as Arthur gently moves you off of him, the anticipation building as you settle onto the bed, watching intently as Arthur moves closer. With ease, he helps you slide off your jeans and panties, his touch sending tingles down your spine, each moment feeling more intimate than the last.

Once you're fully exposed before him, Arthur takes a moment to admire the sight before him, his gaze filled with desire and admiration. He begins to remove his own clothes, his movements deliberate yet filled with an undeniable hunger.

The atmosphere in the room shifted from one of urgency and desperation to something lighter and sweeter. He leaned over you, his touch gentle and reassuring as he positioned himself between your legs. With one hand resting softly on your hip and the other providing support beside you, he lowered his head to spread kisses along your body. Each touch of his lips spreads a heat throughout your body, making you even wetter than you already were.

As his lips found their way to your breast, a soft sigh escaped your lips. Arthur's mouth moved with a practiced rhythm, his movements calculated to elicit the sweetest of moans from you. With each kiss and gentle suckle, he drew out your pleasure, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

His lips trailed from your breast to your neck, peppering delicate kisses along the sensitive skin. Finding a spot that made you gasp and arch your back, he lingered there, his ministrations drawing out a deep, primal moan from deep within you. He had surely left a mark, something that you would have to worry about covering up tomorrow.

Arthur shifts slightly, supporting himself as he rises, granting you an enticing view of his hard cock. With a few quick pumps of his hand, he looks at you, both your eyes glazed with undeniable lust. Without a word, he poses the question, "Condom?"

Your body slightly moves to the side and your hand reaches instinctively to the nightstand drawer, quickly retrieving a foil packet. You tear it open, pulling out the condom. As you carefully slide it down his throbbing length, a soft groan escapes him, his body responding eagerly to your gentle touch.

The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as the two of you lock eyes, dark with desire. You search his eyes for any hint of hesitation or doubt, but all you find is pure admiration reflected back at you. And in that moment, there was no need for words, you knew how much you craved each other.

He gently rubs the tip of his cock against you. Your eyes shut tight, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel the sensation of his cock exploring your wet folds.

Arthur's voice breaks through the haze of desire as he asks, "Ready?" You nod eagerly in response, your body craving the intimate connection that only he can provide. With a gentle thrust, he enters you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. Your hands instinctively grip his shoulders for support, while his hands firmly grasp your hips, guiding each rhythmic movement with care.

You pant out his name between breathy moans, the sound reverberating in the air as he continues to thrust into you. "Arthur," you gasp.

He pauses, his movements slowing, and he looks down at you with genuine concern. "Is this okay?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort. In that moment, the connection between you felt deeper than mere physicality and it all started to feel more intimate and meaningful.

He waits for your response, his breath mingling with yours as he gazes into your eyes. When you nod in affirmation, a wave of relief washes over his face. With a tender smile, he resumes his movements, each stroke of his cock against you more passionate and deliberate than the last.

Arthur murmurs, "Y/N, you feel absolutely amazing, darling," as he grunts with each slow thrust, a subtle force behind each movement now, hitting your sweet spot deliciously.

You grip his shoulders tighter, your voice a low moan. "Fuck, Arthur."

Your moans and grunts intertwine, echoing throughout the empty apartment as the two of you become lost in each other.

Arthur rests his forehead against yours, his movements still steady as he continues to pleasure you. A soft smile graces his lips as he whispers, "You're so beautiful, Y/N," planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Your mind swims in a sea of pleasure, every sensation heightened as you surrender to the moment.

Arthur maintains his pace, gradually speeding up as the intensity between you heightens. Each movement feels like a perfect fit, as if your bodies were made to intertwine in this exact moment. As you feel your orgasm approaching, you can't help but release a string of uncontrollable moans, "Shit, Arthur, I'm close."

Arthur slows his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming deeper and more intense with each movement. You can feel him filling you completely, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Me too," he responds breathlessly, his arousal evident in his voice, matching the urgency in yours.

Moments later, Arthur reaches his peak, his release triggering your own. You cry out into the crook of his neck as waves of ecstasy wash over you, your bodies trembling in the aftermath of shared pleasure.

Both of you are left as absolute panting messes, your bodies still intertwined. His lips move across your face, peppering tender kisses everywhere, trailing down to your neck where he places a kiss at the mark he had previously left.

Gently, he pulls out of you and excuses himself momentarily. He returns with a wet towel from the bathroom, carefully cleaning you up before tossing the towel aside. A gentle peck on your lips follows, his affectionate gesture speaking volumes.

Settling into the spot next to you, he pulls you onto his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "I'm so lucky to have met you," he murmurs softly, his words laced with sincerity. He places a sweet peck on your forehead, feeling the weight of the day finally catch up with you as sleep begins to overtake you.

You snuggle closer, a contented smile gracing your lips. "No you have no idea how lucky I am," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. With a final sigh of contentment, you drift off into a peaceful slumber in his embrace, the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a deep sleep.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who sends in requests. I appreciate all of you so much. I have about 6 works in my drafts right now that I am working on getting out as quickly as possible.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Requests are open...or just drop in for a chat! 😊

[thepersonnamedsam]

mornings spent well - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader, f1!grid x reader (platonic)

summary: pt. 3 of the mini series mornings spent well. where the reader and charles finally get married like normal people

pt. 1 / pt. 2

word count: 1k

warnings: none, maybe too much fluff, I cried while writing this

note: enjoy it :) and don't be a ghost reader 

masterlist / taglist

The wedding had been planned to the last detail. It would happen on your first anniversary on the beach with only people you knew. No press was allowed, and you had secured and rented out the private beach part. Charles even composed your wedding march.

Your wedding dress just the way you wanted it to be. You knew the whole grid, including Daniel and Sebastian. A few friends and family were at your side of the beach on the other the grid and Charles family. Carlos stood to Charles left as you walked down the aisle with you father.

He looked at you and instantly felt a tear rolling down his cheek. Carlos wanted to snort so badly, seeing his good friend so vulnerable and soft was definitely a newer sight for Carlos. But he didn’t snort, he smiled. He knew Charles was smitten for you and he was happy that you provided him a feeling of home.

Daniel, the photo- and videographer of your wedding couldn’t stop smiling. Seeing Charles and you so happy after what happened exactly a year before was making him so excited for what still was to come. The camera always either pointed at him or you. Sometimes overflying the small crowd.

Your mother was crying, seeing her child walking down the aisle with so much pride and joy in her eyes was the biggest wish come true for her. Looking at her husband walking down with you, she couldn’t believe how grown up you are.

Pascale seeing her son standing strong and proud with watery eyes made her heart melt. Missing her late husband even more that day, wishing he could witness their son’s wedding as well. Even Arthur and Lorenzo looked proud of their brother. Proud he settled down for someone as glorious as you and proud they were able to see the happiness you bring Charles.

And you out of all couldn’t stop crying as soon as you saw your husbands tear leave his eye you were a goner. Not much caring about your make up, he still sees you as the most beautiful person on this planet.

With every step you took your heart pounded harder. Not because you were nervous, no, it wouldn’t be the first time marrying him, would it. No, it kept bounding more and more because you couldn’t wait to be near the love of your life. You wanted to smell his scent, feel his warmth against your body and see his piercing green eyes. You were so excited to actually marry this man again, that you couldn’t stop the chuckle that left your mouth.

Both nervous and happy waited Charles for you at the altar. You couldn’t be fast enough for him. Carlos sensing his nervousness and laying a calming hand on his shoulder, whispering: “You got this, brother.” His reassuring smile calming Charles a bit down. He still couldn’t believe it; he was marrying you. You out of all the people he could’ve chosen, out of all the people you could have chosen, he was marrying you again and you were marrying him again.

Lewis Hamilton, a person you instantly clicked with as you first met him, Sebastian Vettel, someone you only ever met once in Melbourne, and Fernando Alonso, a fatherly figure for you, watched as you halted at the altar and looked at your (soon to be) husband. Your father handing Charles you and giving him a firm handshake. They looked at the pair smiling at each other and be all lovey-dovey. They were happy for the pair.

“You are so beautiful, belle”, he whispered. A smile spreading on your face, wide enough to reach your sides of your face. Holding both his hands in yours, squeezing them and closing your eyes, you hoped that you would never forget this moment, this feeling. Him standing before you in his cream suit, smiling wide and genuine. Feeling his hands squeezing yours back.

The officiator announced the typical speech he had to deliver. And the time came, where they would say their vows to each other. Charles, the gentleman as he is, let you start.

“Charles, my love, we first met one year and a week ago. I gave you my number on a coffee cup and you decided on this day a year ago you wanted to marry me. With lots of tequila and bad breath I said yes. This was the best decision I have ever made. I promise to always love and support you, in good and bad times. In times where there are no points at all and where there are points endless to count. Charles, I promise to be there in sickness and health until we’re both grey and old. I promise to be there at every step of your way, and I promise you, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, to love you unconditionally and give you all my time I have.”

Charles smiled, cried, and laughed. How did he end up so lucky?

“Chérie, I promise to always love you. I promise to always support you and be there for you. I promise you to cherish you and every moment we get to spend together. I am yours and you are mine. Soulmates to never be apart. From strangers to lovers, I will be there all the way, from sickness to health, from life to death. You are my everything and I will love you as long as the sun still rises every day. I loved you yesterday, I will love you tomorrow and most importantly, I love you today.”

Your eyes red from crying, happy tears of course, you couldn’t stop looking at the love of your life. He was your everything. And as the officiator finally said those long-awaited words, you kissed the groom and felt like you were flying. You finally had an official wedding; you could finally dance to your wedding song and collect memories from that day.

The only thing you wished would change from last year, was you would wake up with nothing under the sheets and a head full of memories instead of aches.

Charles would never let you go, but you can assure him, you would never leave him anyway.

°°°

previous part

[rivetingrosie4]

What a Life (Morgan & Family: A Fluff Dump, Pt. 2)

credit to @foundynnel i believe for 2 of the edits above

𑁦𐂂𑁦

RDR2 | Arthur Morgan x Female Reader | Rating: General | tumblr masterlist | Ao3 | Part 1

Summary: Part of a modern au (and post gang) fluff dump work. Just a scene in which Arthur and reader enjoy secluded family life with their very young son. Arthur is a cute and loving dad and is adored by reader.

Tags: fluff without plot, family fluff, romantic fluff, domestic setting, parenthood

Word count: 2,660

In the cool shadow of the cabin, thrown long by the late morning sun, you sit with your little son, watching him play in the sandbox. The mourning dove’s rounded, plaintive hoots are parried by the sharp, tinkling warbles of goldfinches in the nearby pine branches, and the fragrances of crisp mist and thick sod linger in the mountain air.

You watch the faint glimmer of day paint the crests of Gabriel’s cupid’s bow with light, his plump lips resting between his two rotund cheeks as he concentrates on the toys before him. The wispy feathers of his splayed lashes bow and rise with each blink. His beautiful, shimmering eyes inspect each toy, each color, each shape. Out of all the blocks, large puzzle pieces, rings, balls, and animal toys half-buried in the sand, he has landed on one. You watch the bulbous pads and segments of each tiny, clumsy finger curl to a strong, stable grasp around the edge of the object of his aim—a large block with an Appaloosa sketched and painted lovingly on the side.

“Just like your daddy,” you whisper to yourself.

Dipping your fingers into the sand and feeling its chill envelop your skin, you look up with a smile to gaze in the direction of the stables. In the distance, you catch sight of Arthur hauling a huge saddle and its accompanying tack, a moment before he disappears through the door and into the shaded interior.

You recall the quiet rustling of his rising this morning when he’d been up before the sun, as he often is. And the way he’d kept from waking the baby in his room, intentionally leaving you to reap the reward of your son’s customary gleeful smile, his bounce in his crib, and his lifting of his arms for you.

You turn back to your eleven-month-old with a burgeoning smirk. “Wanna come help Mama make some sourdough?”

“Yeah,” he immediately chirps, recognizing nothing but the lilt of a question in your voice. But he doesn’t look up at you, still captured by the blocks and puzzle pieces.

You stand and take a few steps away to prompt him. “Well let’s go!” you call.

He braces himself on the sand with his palms, a moment later lifting his tush into the air. When he straightens, his brows knot, and his lips dangle from between his cheeks as he gazes down confoundedly at the discomfort of sand stuck to his flesh.

You snort a laugh as you cover the sandbox behind him. “Just go like this, Gabe Baby.”

You show him your flattened hands and slowly brush them together.

His brows don’t budge as he looks back and forth from your hands to his own, unable to fully brush them.

“Like this,” you whisper, gently taking his wrists and swiftly brushing his palms back and forth over each other.

When the sand is removed, he toddles to follow you up towards the cabin, and you carry him when you reach the oak staircase to the back door.

As you turn onto the wraparound porch, you notice Arthur now hefting a huge bale of hay by its cords into the stable, his black leather hat shading most of his face in the distance. But you like to imagine he wears a subconscious smile, now enjoying a life of simplicity, filled with nature and horses and art and family and love, tucked away from the gnarled heartache that gang life had left in its wake.

“Sandy baby,” you mumble when you arrive inside and close the back door behind you.

You promptly remove both your shoes and strip Gabriel to his diaper, tossing his sandy clothes into the hamper.

“Are you dry?” you ask vainly as he starts to toddle away. “Wait, are you dry?” You deftly hook a finger down his back and into his diaper before he can fully get away.

Peering into his diaper, you find no present. You carefully squeeze his bottom to discover no liquid deposit.

When you release him, he immediately darts down the hall. You follow and walk into the kitchen, beckoning him to join you. When he does and you bend to pick him up, he whines to be allowed to remain standing on his own.

“Well how’re you gonna see from down there?” you lightly ask.

When he shakes his head, you half-frown. It was just a couple weeks ago that eleven-month-old Gabriel began walking. Since then, he’s always wriggling out of your arms and dashing across rooms, seemingly already excited to be as independent as he can be.

At first, it stung. With the love and special intimacy of mother and son—and with even the chemistry and well-being of your bodies both dependent on the other—the two of you had been closer than peas in a pod, glued at the hip for so long. It’s always been and still is a precious bond to you, though its daily aspects continue to gradually change. And it was hard to so suddenly feel a little unneeded. But Arthur has helped you find a comfort in the balance of realizing that your feelings are only natural, and that you’ve been raising a wonderful and healthy little boy, with this change as just another bit of proof.

As well as the fact that Gabriel still likes to cherry-pick when he’s carried and when he walks on his own. You suspect that like any human, his adamant desire for independence doesn’t do one thing to hinder his deep enjoyment and fierce need of being held.

So you turn and begin pulling ingredients and dishes from the cupboard, at last going to the fridge to retrieve your sourdough starter. You begin mixing ingredients in your big bowl atop the counter, when you hear a whimper and feel a few hard tugs at your palazzos. And you smirk.

You glance down to find him with arms outstretched and upheld for you, bouncing on his tiptoes with longing. You stoop and lift him to you, hugging him to your hip and pressing a few kisses soundly to his smooth cheek.

Describing each action aloud to him, you finish mixing, dust the countertop with copious amounts of flour, and turn the bowl with your free hand to dump the dough.

“Now we knead,” you almost sing, in hushed tones.

Perched on your hip, his plump little arm drapes with familiarity and utmost contentedness over the back of your shoulder. He watches your every gesture with a mixture of restful curiosity and heightened interest.

You push the dough away and pull it towards you again and again, tucking the edges underneath as you do, to form a smooth, rounded surface on top.

“You wanna feel it? You wanna knead?” you ask.

Leaning forward, you let him reach and press his tiny hand into the supple surface of the cool dough.

“Gentle,” you say, showing him the way you keep your fingers outstretched and softly brush and pat the surface of the dough with the pads of your fingertips. “No squeezing.”

The two of you watch his little fingers delve into the pliant mass of dough, leaving a mark of small craters. When they begin to slowly bounce back, you watch his face instead of the dough.

He releases a single cooed sigh of delight as he looks at you with a bright smile, which you heartily return.

How you love, you love, you love him.

You sprinkle the dough with flour and rest it in a basket for its turn to prove. After fetching a dough you’d left proving hours before, you carefully score it with one long slice for expansion, and several small strokes for a quaint wheat kernel design on the other side.

“Mama.” Gabriel pats your sternum and rests a couple fingers past his lips.

“You hungry?” you ask.

When he nods, you brush a hand down the slope of the back of his head and kiss his temple. You add as you set him to his feet, “Let me get this in the oven, then I’ll feed you.”

After setting the parchment-papered sourdough in its cast iron dutch oven and pouring a bain marie past the paper, you place the whole thing in the oven and set a timer. You glance at the oven window with a small smile, eager to see the crispy crust on your extra-sour boule. Since you first noticed its resemblance to Gabriel’s tummy, you’ve made a tradition of kissing the top of the boule, then indelicately turning Gabriel sideways in your arms and blowing a raspberry on his bare belly, making him cackle hysterically. These days, he’s even begun giggling when you turn him in your arms and before you ever kiss his belly, already tickled by the anticipation alone.

With Gabriel in tow, you walk to the couch in the living room. Gabriel rests both arms over the seat cushion and tries to lift one leg up over the edge, but you reach your hands under his arms and pull him into your lap.

Just before you unhook your bra from its strap to nurse, the two of you hear the back door open.

Gabriel’s eyes widen, and a grin begins to pull on the corners of his mouth. “Da,” he says.

He wiggles down off the couch, and as he toddles down the hall, you listen to his bare little feet patting quietly along the hardwood floor. You smile to yourself at the precious sound, so deeply dear to you.

As you hear Arthur’s rustling, jingling presence in the doorway and the naturally firm, heavy footfalls of his work boots, you imagine him resting his black hat on the wall as his small son comes around the corner in only his diaper, bared rounded belly and all.

When you hear the playful growl and the resultant squeal and cackle, your grin splits wider.

“You’re in your nethers, baby boah!”

You can detect the pinch of a smile in Arthur’s voice and the breath of laughter with the last couple words.

More little pads of bare feet as Gabriel comes running back around the corner and down the hall. He hesitates as he toddles, turning back to ensure Arthur’s tailing, eager to play this game with his father.

Still, when Arthur leans around the corner and pulls an exaggeratedly silly face with an outright grunt, Gabriel’s little body gives a tiny jump. His squeal and adorable laughter ring out into the air. He clumsily darts into the kitchen.

When his father follows with a few long strides and the sturdy clops of his boots, he brings with him the musty scents of alfalfa hay and tanned rawhide, of trail dust and undiluted sunshine. And the two subsequently begin an elaborate game of peek-a-boo, back and forth around the island. You can’t help but laugh along at the purest sound of undiluted joy—the beauty and innocence of your own child so easily tickled and contented by life and love—as you turn on the couch and watch the pair. No matter how many times Arthur jumps out to stop him with a silly face and a low hoot or growl, Gabriel instantly screams and squeals, his body utterly racked with tightly coiled cackles.

Arthur wheezes and snickers every time.

“Oh my God, listen to him!” you laugh.

It’s always another several seconds before Gabriel totally recovers and manages to catch his breath, his laughter smoothing with each heave of air.

With the next turn of their game, Arthur lingers behind the island when Gabriel rounds it, not jumping out even when his son takes reticent steps forward, looking for him. Arthur continues to linger, even quietly backing up to hide himself, watching his son for the right moment to strike.

Finally Arthur leaps out, and Gabriel jumps with the highest squeal and loudest cackles you’ve heard yet.

You and Arthur both burst with your own laughter at his reaction.

When your son’s breathing finally evens, you call, “Gabriel, I thought you were hungry?”

“Oh, were you about to eat, son?” Arthur asks in his deep timbre. “You hungry?”

Gabriel nods and pats a hand to his belly above the rim of his diaper.

“Well, better go see Mama,” Arthur quietly grunts as he picks his son up by the underarms and sets him on his hip out of habit. Arthur lifts him over the couch back and sets him down into your lap, then remains behind the couch himself, watching over your shoulder.

After cushioning your back and adjusting him in your arms, you reach beneath your tee, unhook the front of your bra, and gently bring Gabriel to your breast to nurse. He latches on immediately, very well accustomed to your routine. A certain profound peace washes over you as you watch him. His lips flange around you as he suckles; his quiet breaths through his nose briefly pause each time he swallows; and his plump little arm rests wistfully over your chest.

Many people may look away, abashed and discomfited, unable to fit something at once both so innocent and intimate into their world. But it’s always made perfect sense to you. And maybe motherhood was a dream too quaint, one not rebellious or modern enough, seemingly not daring or adventurous enough. But it was your dream.

When Gabriel spots Arthur’s face over your shoulder, he pulls away from your breast with a growingly wry grin, clearly expecting to continue the game from moments ago. Droplets of your milk spill between you and his mouth as he voices a syllable and lifts his arm, attempting to goad Arthur into another silly face.

Arthur silently complies with cross-eyes and a sideways tongue.

Gabriel promptly giggles, and the two of you smile and chuckle at the sound.

“Don’t while he’s nursing, he’ll choke,” you lightly say.

After softly cooing and corralling Gabriel back to his feeding, you continue watching him with a contented smile. You brush your hand down over the back of his head, into the growing downy hair that curls funnily at the base of his neck. As he closes his eyes, you brush the backs of your curled fingers down over his temple, and gently trail your fingertips across the velvet flower-petal skin of his plump baby cheek.

You hear the long, relaxed sound of Arthur’s husky breath over your shoulder, a sound you know very well, especially these days.

“What a life, huh?” he quietly says.

He means to facetiously point out Gabriel’s current lot—nursing at his mother’s breast with his father at the ready to make him smile and laugh. That is, a life full of love and joy, well taken care of, and absent of a care in the world. Just as he should be for now.

It doesn’t take you a few moments, and you’re turning to look into Arthur’s cerulean-sage eyes. A knowingness resides in your gaze. Because you yourself, as well as your husband, have been given all you’d so deeply and totally longed for—and longed, a word too weak—more than you could’ve ever imagined you’d actually live to get.

“Yeah,” you quietly, pensively respond. “What a life.”

The love of your life holds your gaze, and understands.

Your love and gratefulness are immeasurable and uncontainable, filling you and stretching past the bounds of your body and being, like fragmented granules of glittering dust floating from a burst star.

Strangely enough, even with all the joy and contentment and peace, the words and the shared gaze are not without a mingling of loss and ache.

They are not gone entirely. But you both have someone now, to join you in weathering them.

You are not alone.

Arthur leans to you, and you share a few kisses, soft as breath. You turn and close your eyes a moment as he rests his forehead to your temple. And you both gaze down at your son with contented smiles.

[bon2bonn]

Flowers

Carlos Sainz X leclerc!reader

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

✨Pt.4✨

Words count : 4.2k.

Warnings : grammar, cursing, blood, Pickering siblings, overprotective brothers, crying, hospitals, arguing , fluff, Arthur being a menace, description of injury? .

*You can read "pt.1 here" , "Pt.2 here" , and "Pt.3 here" .

* aaaand we're done!, flowers 🌼 is officially done , see you in side chapters/drabbles or life updates ?? , don't be shy to say what you think or request if you like to ✨.

Hours later she finally comes to , flinching at the bright florescent lights blazing at her eyes and adding to her growing headache . taking a moment to adjust before she tried to turn her head around in confusion but winced once she tried to move it the slightest . She carefully reached up , finding a thick bandage covering her temple and her left arm is secured in a cast all the way to her elbow with her fingers peeking out .

Now that she looked at the white room around she noticed how it's overly clean and smelled of disinfectants , the bed felt stif and uncomfortable , yup , she's in a hospital room , not knowing how or when , because the last thing she remembered was her head spinning , blood on her hand , and distance shouts and then darkness .

She closed her eyes trying to rid her mind of the flashing images then looked to the side slowly , smiling at the sight , her Mama along with Arthur who had his face squished as he leaned his head on her shoulder both passed out on a couch beside the door , Enzo was on a chair beside them too engrossed in his phone to notice her being awake .

It didn't take long before he turned it off , pocketing it while standing , before turning to glance her way , she gave him a tired smile with a quite "hi" , he returned it absentmindedly " hey" before opening the door and walking out , she watched in mild amusement as he quickly came back in , slamming the door as he rushed back in to her side startling their sleeping family in his haste , both sprinting up to stand , eyes wide and overly tired . About to give him a piece of their mind , but he quickly apologized pointing at her , as she watched the scene with a wide grin as they all stood staring at her stunned .

"Hi" she said again with a faint voice , but a bit louder , and it didn't take long before they came to their senses, taking turns in hugging her as tightly as they could minding her injuries , all shedding tears as they finally felt a huge weight lifting off their chest as she's awake and talking.

Enzo stepped out to notify the doctor , Arthur took it upon himself to fill her in on what happened while she was out . apparently a drunk was having too much fun that he stole a car and went berserk on the street , took the wrong turn and slammed into them , the driver got out with way less injuries than her and the bastard got out without a scratch on him , he only passed out and was arrested about two hours ago but that didn't last long .

when she asked in confusion about what he meant he told her " well , Charles and Carlos crossed ways with him , and they did some work on him before the police could hold them back " her mother went on " they're locked outside until the police could take the man out to proceed with their work after he's cleared enough to leave" , Arthur added in a sarcastic tone " at least he was in the right place to get a beating" earning a snort from his sister while their mother pinched him for his words , he looked at her offended holding his pinched arm in false agony before adding quietly " they bonded over it while almost getting themselves arrested " , that got his sister's attention but the doctor came in along with Lorenzo in toe before she could ask about what happened to them , taking her attention as the doctor asked her some questions checking her coherence and memory , checking vitals before he gave her a quick rundown of her injuries .

A broken arm that required a cast for couple weeks or so , a concussion from the impact of her head against the window that caused the gash that required some stitches , which explained why her head aches and the nausea , some bruises on her side that'd take time to heal fully and that's about it . Promising that She'll get discharged in a couple of days just to be sure they missed nothing with the check ups and scans, he made some notes to dose up the painkillers now that she's awake , she thanked him before he left .

Turning to Enzo with a concerned look " where's Charlie and carlos? " He sighed as he brought the chair closer to her bed to sit down on " still locked out" frowning at her deflated look , he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze " you scared the light out of me " Arthur supplied as he made himself comfortable at the foot of her bed " you should've seen him earlier , he looked like he aged ten years" she huffed a laugh trying to lighten up the somber atmosphere " what do you mean ? He's always looked like that " the eldest glared at them both before he cracked a small smile as they kept on teasing him, their mother sat back finally taking a breath after a long dreadful hours , all night she was waiting and praying for her daughter to be alright , for her to wake up and return back to them . Now here she is laughing with her brother's and trying to lighten their worries.

Not long after a gentle knock sounded on the rooms door , their mother stood up and walked to see who , exchanging a warm greeting and a nod " yeah , she's awake" before she stepped aside opening the the door wider to let whoever stood outside in .

Carlos stepped in , she noticed the same tired look up on his face hair messy from running his hands through it in stress, and a fresh bouquet of her favourite flowers held in his hand as he reached her side in seconds , putting it on the side as he leaned over taking her hand in his , slipping his fingers through hers as he brought it up to plant several kisses on the back of it , holding it close to his heart relishing in how warm it is in his hold compared to hours earlier when she was first brought into the room , he leaned up with his forehead against hers both relaxing as they're finally close again .

Their mother signalled for the brothers to step out , both disagreed but got a scolding glare that got the oldest to comply but the youngest refused, acting as if he didn't see causing Lorenzo to drag him out by to back of his shirt in a quick movement not giving him time to react , closing the door behind .

" Hi" he finally breathed out , too overwhelmed to voice anything yet , she gave him a smile as she greeted back " hi" voice still croaky but she was more than happy with him there beside her.

Moving closer he pressed his face on the crook of her neck , letting her hand go to close his arms around her in a delicate but much needed hug for both of them , his voice muffled as he kept his hold on her , trying to ground and assure himself that she's okay " mi Vida , I was so scared " she hummed in understanding, cradling her fingers through his hair in attempt to comfort him " me too mon cœur , I thought I was going to ......" her throat closed up as tears clouded her vision causing him to lift his head, wiping away the falling tears , he planted a long loving kiss on her lips to comfort her spiraling mind , letting her fist his shirt in a tight hold , it's her way to calm her racing thoughts and making sure he's there with her for real , he held her fist with one hand running his fingers on the back of her hand and using the other to caress her cheek with tender touch , but their tranquility was ripped as she glanced at his bruised knuckles startling him as she quickly grabbed his hand gently inspecting the assaulted area in concern "your hand!" , he tried to look nonchalant but his anger boils again as he remembered the smug look on the drunk bastard's face " it's nothing a pack of ice won't fix " avoiding her scolding glare but she wasn't having any of it , " you shouldn't go around punching people " he huffed bowing his head down to nestle it back on her neck mumbling " Arthur snitched, didn't he ? " She leaned her head carefully on his with a laugh " he always snitch , you should've expect it " he shrugged" at least he was already in the hospital " only to groan as she lightly smacked his shoulder with her good hand , but smoothed it after as she asked in a hushed tone reaching for his injured hand " does it hurt?" His shoulders relaxed and his face softened from it's frown looking at her fondly as she inspected it again for a moment before giving his knuckles a light kiss " I should be asking you that , mi amor , you're the one in a hospital bed " she assured him " I'm okay, the painkillers are doing wonders " .

He hummed with a knowing smile turning aside to retrieve the bouquet on the side watching her face lights up in glee as she beamed at him , holding them with a wide smile as he handed her the bouquet, moving to the table below the window on the other side , retrieving an empty vase to fil with water from the adjacent room that she noticed now was a bathroom before coming back to her side table taking the flowers out of the wrapping and carefully arranging them as she taught him before , and stepped back once he finished , hands on his hips as he asked proudly " what do you think? " She teased him with a shrug " not bad , still needs improvement but eh " he gave her an offended look " aaahhhhh, don't lie Hermosa, I did it just like you " she looked away " not even close !" He rolled his eyes leaning down to prep quick kisses on her cheek ending it with one on her lips as she turned to face him " you should take some rest " she refused even when a yawn slipped out " but I just woke up " , with another peck on her pouting lips he argued " I know , but you're still tired and your headache will get worse the longer you're awake " , convinced with his words she asked " will you stay ?" , nodding he took her hand in his after he brought the empty chair closer to her side sitting on it and leaning on the side of the bed leaving a last kiss on the back of her hand "for as long as you want and need me to " watching her drift in and out before she finally fell asleep , him following right after her .

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The door cracked open with Charles peeking his head this time , silence greets him as he found them both asleep , he braved himself to step in and take a seat in couch trying his best to not disturb their rest as he sat back and took a glance at their sleeping forms . His sister's hand holding onto Carlos outstretched one as he leaned on the side hunched over the chair with his head beside their locked hands his position wasn't comfortable for sure but his content face proved otherwise.

His sister's face was finally relaxed, if it wasn't for the bandage covering her temple and the cast on her arm it would've looked like she's taking a nap after a long day , not confined in a hospital bed with a broken arm and concussion .

Now he felt truly helpless as he let the events of the night before settle in , he almost lost her, his only sister , almost gone and he wasn't even there with her , he wasn't the brother she deserved to have because he let his pride and anger blind him from considering what she went through because she was scared of what he'd think , and he proved her right all along, he failed to fulfil his promise, he could've lost her and their last memories are him screaming at her before walking out on her , not sparing her a chance to listen . thinking that by opposing her being with anyone he was protecting her from a heartbreak , but in reality he was the one hurting her the most .

How everything he was mad about seems so insignificant and irrational now when he looked back with clear mind , guess that life have it's own way to set things back .

Shuffling from the bed caught his attention as Carlos shifted on his chair, carefully lifting his upper body up while keeping his hand still , holding his breath as he carefully peeled his hand out of hers , positioning it to lay comfortably on the bed instead, he let a breath of relief as she wasn't disturbed by his movement and leaned to leave a light kiss on the top of her head , moving carefully from her side he acknowledged charles presence with a nod , approaching his hunched form as he made his way to the door.

" How is she ?" Charles asked in a hushed voice still looking at her sleeping soundly, Carlos looked back at her before giving his friend a tired smile " she's still shaken up but she's too stubborn to let it shows , but she'll be okay" , Charles nods then leaned his head on his hands, his mind still in torment of what to do ? What to say when she wakes up? That if she wanted to talk to him in the first place, but a hand on his shoulder snapped him out " it won't be easy to get through this unless you're there with her " Charles looked up in defeat " what if she doesn't want me to ? " , " that's unlikely to happen , she'll always need you , but you'll never know unless you talk to her , just remember what we talked about , those possibilities and what if's aren't worth wasting time on when you can try working on mending things with her " he left Charles with a squeeze on his shoulder, stepping out leaving him to brave himself one more time.

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Not long after , she woke up again, this time with less confusion and a lighter headache than before . the room is quiet and she thought she was alone until she looked at the couch beside the door again , this time finding Charles sitting there with his head still on his hands , and before she could stop herself she called out " Charlie? " , his head snapped up and even from her bed she could see how tired he looked, hair disheveled and eyes red rimmed, a sob slipped out as she called him again, he stood quickly rushing to her side trying to find what's wrong as he asked in alarmed voice " what's wrong? , are you hurting? , is it your arm !? , please tell me what's wrong ?" Her sobbing only increased as he kept helplessly asking her , she frantically grabbing his hoodie's sleeve as he turned to call for a doctor to see what's wrong , he turned back to her taking her hand in his trying to calm her down , but she kept crying " you're here" .

His body tensed as he asked in a strain voice " you don't want me to?" She shook her head frantically gripping his hand more " No ! I want you here ! , I thought you wouldn't come, I thought you........ I thought you wanted nothing to do with me anymore" his shoulders deflated, eyes welling up as he shook his head " no , I would never . I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said that night and I was too angry to think right, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you back then , I thought I knew what was best for you but I only drove you away " her tears kept falling as she shook her head " I sorry too , I should've told you everything, I thought I was doing the right thing , I was just scared of disappointing you but I only made everything worse" now both their crying could be heard from the hallway as their family stopped outside on their way back, all halting to let them talk it out , Lorenzo held Arthur back as he tried to reach for the door to get in " no you're not" but the youngest protested " he made her cry , again ! I'll just smack him in his empty head " their mother scold him in a stern voice " Arthur Leclerc , there won't be any more fighting in this hospital, one child in the hospital is too much for me !" He backed down in guilt apologizing .

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Back inside the both calmed down enough, both suiting Buffy eyes faces red from crying hard , they looked at eachother before bursting into a fit of giggles at how miserable and disheveled they both looked, and after a moment she asked hesitantly " Charlie?" He hummed at her to go on " can I get a hug?" He nod when his voice cracked " yeah" wrapping her in a much needed hug minding her arm when he scoot closer , feeling her hand clutching the back of his hoodie tightly and her tears came back but he kept holding her as she asked " are okay now?" , he tightened his hold in assurance " we're more than okay" , releasing her after she finally let go , he wiped away her tears " I missed you " she gave him a tired smile " and I missed my annoyingly idiot twin " he huffed at the insult but didn't argue back .

" I'm still not over how you're dating my teammate "she nudge his shoulder " admit it already, you're just jealous he's dating me , not you " side eyeing her with a sassy voice " lies and deceptions , we both know I'm the better twin " she scoffed at him " rude!! " But he ignored her and kept talking " at least it wasn't Max " groaning as she cackled at his annoyed face " so I guess....... " He paused as she tilted her head waiting for him to go on " I'll give him a chance , just because he makes you happy I won't run him over on track next race weekend " he rolled his eyes as she let out a cheer at his words swatting away her poking hand but stopped when he saw her brows creased in a frown as she huffed " not you too" his confusion cleared as he followed her eyes to his now bruised knuckles attempting to hide it but winced as she pinched his arm hard enough for him to jump back from another one aimed at his ear " aaahhh! , what was that for? " She glared at him the best she could " for you running around punching people!" He argued heatedly " he deserved it!" , dodging as she went to chuck a spare pillow at him , exclaiming dramatically " stop ! Why are you trying to hit me ! I already have an injured hand" , she snapped back " and who's fault is that ?" He quickly answered " it's Arthur's fault! " The mentioned brother stood dumfounded at the door frame , jaw dropping as he was accused pointing at Charles in bewilderment " I did nothing! , It's your fault you marched to the guy and swung at him !" Charles pointed back at him " after you pointed him out to me! " , " I didn't!".

They went back and forth shifting the blame on who's fault is it , Carlos and Lorenzo stood back watching as Pascal ignored the Pickering brothers heading to her daughter's side , both paying them no mind , Enzo clapped Carlos on the back " well , I guess it's time to officially welcome you to the family . good luck , you'll need it with those three idiots" he stepped in trying to separate the two as they kept swating eachother before his sister snapped from her bed " Enzo , he just got here , don't scare him away " Carlos chuckled at them as he closed the door after him , stepping closer to her side taking her hand gently " don't worry mi amor , I won't be going anywhere" .

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The garage buzzed as mechanics swarm in and out preparing the cars and equipments before they need take them out , both drivers stood to the side after they finished putting their suit's on Carlos stood with his hands behind his back looking smugly at Charles who rolled his eyes at him arms crossed in irritation, tempted to reach out to smack the smug look off his face , but his sister's glare kept him put , but he won't keep quiet about how displeased he felt when she showed up wearin his teammates number instead of his " you're a traitor " she looked at him with a side eye " I'm in Ferrari's garage, wearing Ferrari's merch from head to toe , what else do you want!? " He kept his unimpressed look " it's not my number on it ! " , not giving him a chance she nonchalantly asked " and ? " A look of betrayal took over his face as Carlos starts cackling beside them " that's it ! Arthur is my favourite now! He won't betray me , where is he ? " Looking around for his , she held back her laugh as she tried to keep a straight face " at least I'm here , your favourite is at the McLaren's garage" but failed as he stood wide eyed before them " you can't even trust your own blood these days ! , I only trust Enzo! He won't let me down " moving to head out to the McLaren's garage next door to drag his youngest brother back , leaving the couple behind as the shared a knowing look " should we tell him? " She shook her head at Carlos's question " he'll lose it he knew " thinking back to the facetime call she had with her brother earlier, him watching the race back home wearing a Ferrari cap with Carlos number instead of Charles.

Taking the quiet moment carlos brought her close with a hand on her waist, the other held a single flower that he gave to her before wrapping the other arm around her too , watching her face breaking into a wide grin , light dimples on display that he didn't hesitate to kiss , leaning his forehead on hers " you look breathtaking mi Vida "Giving him a teasing smile " i always looked like this " he hummed in agreement pumping his nose with hers " even more so when you're wearing my number" relishing in her laugh as she gave him a quick kiss wrappin her arms around his neck to bring him closer " well , it happened that it's my favourite number " running a hand through the back of his head " but I like the driver more " earning a smirk as he gave her a peck on the cheek " I heard he's a good driver , no?" She only hummed " one of the best , on and off track " he ask " how so ?" , she answered with a wide grin " he brings me flowers, hold my hand , takes care of me , puts up with my annoying brothers and respects my mama , and I looooove him " he startled her with a deep kiss leaving her out of breath as he hid his face on her neck " and he love you too , more and more everyday day " both lost in their small bubble until someone called him to go over some final notes , he gave her an apologetic smile before reluctantly letting her go with a final kiss wither wishing him luck and a safe driving, watching as he was swept away . her twin brother not far behind doing the same but stopped as she came up to wish him luck , rolling her eyes as he came back to her again , taking his cap off shoving it on top of her head , feeling accomplished before he was dragged out .

[starkwlkr]

BABY LECLERC SERIES

here are my works for the baby leclerc series! thanks for reading! 🫶🏼 these have no specific order :)

baby on the loose

runaway baby

best dad

banned

iconic

cool dad

big sister

jealousy, jealousy

your daddy’s here

a boy?

why not me?

firsts

just like papa

headcanons

hate is a strong word

she said what?

mean

no boys allowed

you’re not my dad

what’s mine is mine

girls just wanna have fun

a little too much

banned pt.2

arthur the favorite

only these words

a rock? thanks!

two birthdays

little miss rainbow hair

beauty and the beast

she loves me she loves me not

the birds and the what?

girlhood

mommy’s biggest fans

my baby

that's my wife

mini me

the L word

day in the life of a monaco mama

here comes the bride

you are NOT the world champion

[fruitcoops]

In the Beginning

Going back to my roots this year with some pre-Coops PT fluff :) This is definitely going to turn into a short series (with exceptions for Leo's birthday, of course) and I'm really excited about it! Hoping for some more time to create this spring <3 Character credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW canon injury (Sirius' ankle)

“Sirius.” Despite the whiteboard with his name scrawled next to 11:00, Remus still managed to sound pleasantly surprised. “Hi, how are you?”

“Fine.”

God, he sounded like an asshole. Remus’ smile didn’t falter. “Glad to hear it. Come on in, take a seat wherever.”

Was this it? The first test? Sirius glanced between the chair by Remus’ desk and the exam table. Hell, maybe he was supposed to sit on the stool. Was he? Was that a ‘Remus spot’ everyone else was smart enough to not even consider?

He picked the chair. Lowered himself gingerly to the cushioned seat, crutches propped on the armrest next to him. A spot on his ankle itched under the Velcro of his stiff boot.

“Thanks for making the time today,” Remus continued, as if Sirius had been any sort of friendly or welcoming. “I really appreciate it. This’ll be quick and easy—just a check-in, figuring out what’s going on and where we want to be. Sound okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Sick.” Remus dug around behind his desk for a moment; Sirius could hear papers riffling. Remus’ brow furrowed for a second before relaxing with satisfaction as he pulled a sheet free. “Alright. Sirius Black, meet your new best friend.”

Sirius blinked. “You?”

“Ha! No, I think Pots still has me beat,” Remus laughed, sliding a clipboard across the desk. He pulled his own chair around as well, even though Sirius could see him fold his knees out of the way of the desk. It couldn’t be comfortable. “I don’t like sitting back there when you guys are in here,” Remus said, as if he could read Sirius’ mind. The side of his nose scrunched. “Feels…bossy? I dunno. Can’t really write upside-down, either.”

“Ah. Ouais.”

“But that’s—” Remus waved a vague hand and picked a pen from the broken-handled mug tucked by his computer. “It’s not important. This, on the other hand, is your two-week chart. Decorate it, marry it, I don’t care. As long as you know it’s yours and can find it in that—” He pointed to a wire bin by the door. “—box. Capische?”

Sirius shrugged one shoulder and readjusted his ankle under the table. “Sure.”

“Shweet. There are some forms under the top sheet, if you can fill those out for me real quick.”

Remus stood as Sirius bent his head to write; he puttered in Sirius’ periphery, collecting tape and bandages and a handful of other things from the drawers lining the walls before moving to the exam table behind him. Something spritzed, filling the air with the faint scent of lemon. When he glanced back, Remus was wiping down the exam table with a washcloth.

The table. Of course. He should’ve known. “Do you want me to move?”

“You can if you like.” A lopsided smile found him over Remus’ shoulder. “I’m just cleaning, though. Take your time.”

Feels like I’m taking nothing but time, he thought with no small amount of bitterness. At least Remus meant well. Arthur kept telling him he could have all the recovery time he needed, but Sirius could tell he was getting impatient. He hadn’t even been allowed to think about physical therapy before the six-week mark was up. On some teams, that was long enough to justify rumors of a trade.

Ink smeared under the side of his hand. Sirius cursed under his breath and licked his thumb to smudge it off, but only succeeded in blurring it more. He gave up and scribbled it out, leaving the check mark next to the box instead. Remus’ handwriting was at the top of the page. Sirius Black, printed with a gentle slant to the right. Numbers looped, their tails snagging into one another. Sirius had never met someone who wrote their ‘2’s that way.

“Done?”

He jumped.

“Ope, sorry,” Remus half-laughed as he rolled behind his desk again. The wheels of his chair squeaked. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Sirius shook his head. “You’re fine. And ouais, here.”

“Thanks.” Remus flipped through the clipboard with easy neutrality. Sirius had expected him to take this a little more…well, seriously. “Looks good. Like I said before, today is just getting the boring stuff out of the way. Forms, building your exercise plan, making sure you don’t run screaming from the room.”

Sirius frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Hopefully, you won’t.” Remus gave him a look—a joke, he realized a second too late.

“Oh—yes, no, not at all.” Great recovery. It took everything he had not to roll his eyes at himself.

Again, Remus seemed unaffected by his awkwardness. Did he just not see it? Did he think Sirius was playing along? But Remus was always like that, with every one of them. Unflappable and infallible. The world was smooth and calm for him, like a lake on a windless day in the dead of summer. He was wearing a shirt of the same blue-gray as the pond in the park by Sirius’ house.

“How’s your ankle feeling today?”

Get out of your head. “It’s…fine.”

The side of Remus’ mouth pulled up. “Gotta give me something to work with here, Cap.”

“A little sore?”

The light caught his sandy hair as he tipped his head back and forth. “Sore how?”

“Just…” Sirius shrugged. “Sore. Like normal.”

“Stabby? Dull? Lightning-y? Can you feel your heartbeat in it?”

“Um.” The cool air of the PT room siphoned into the small gaps of his boot when he wiggled his toes. “Mostly dull. Sharper when I take the cast off.”

Remus nodded. “You haven’t been putting weight on it?”

“Non.”

“Good. That sounds about right for this point of recovery. Is it an ‘all the time’ kind of pain, or just when you do certain things?”

This was a lot more talking than Sirius had anticipated. He had assumed Remus would sit him on the exam table, poke around, and then send him off with some ice packs and stretches. More time, he said when Sirius had imagined it. You just have to give it another week or two, and you’ll be fine. A hopeful part of him figured they’d let him back on the ice as soon as the bone was healed.

“It’s sore a lot,” Sirius admitted. “The dull kind. It gets worse when I move around, I guess.”

“Even with crutches?”

“Ouais.”

“Do you sleep with it on?”

“…my crutches?”

“The boot,” Remus snorted, though it wasn’t mean. He was rocking slightly in his chair, back and forth. Sirius could see the armrests turn with each light push of his foot behind the desk. The tense thing in his belly eased. If Remus was this casual, maybe he was allowed to take some deeper breaths.

“They gave me a different one for the night,” he said. “It’s softer.”

“Are you more of a back sleeper, side sleeper…?” Remus trailed off, gaze darting across Sirius’ face, and gave a sheepish grin. “That sounds super invasive, wow, sorry. I promise I’m just trying to figure out if you’re sleeping on it weird.”

Sirius tried to school his expression. He didn’t want to know what face he had been making at Remus’ question—they knew each other well enough to not fix him with a media glare. “Uh, my back,” he answered. “Usually. The doctors said to put it up on a pillow until it healed.”

“Cool, cool, sounds good.” Remus nodded again, then drummed his hands on his thighs. “Alright. Those are all the questions I have. Any on your end? Concerns, preferences…?”

How fast can you get me out there? Something told him Remus wouldn’t have an answer he’d like. “No, I’m good.”

Remus had a dimple on his left cheek. It made a divot with his small smile. “Great. Ready to hop on the table so I can take a look?”

It took a moment for Sirius to get to his feet; he reached for his crutches, only to find Remus already holding them steady for him. He hobble-hopped the five or so feet from the desk to the exam table; six and a half weeks in, and the crutches still did their best to stymie him at every turn. Horrible fucking things. His underarms were rubbed raw after fifteen minutes. Clunky and awkward and—

“Hold on.”

Sirius paused.

Remus was frowning at his leg. “Those don’t look right.”

“Quoi?”

“You’re…what, six-three?”

“About.”

“Sit, sit.” Remus ushered him to the edge of the table, but took the crutches as soon as Sirius perched himself on the cushions. He pressed a small button near the base; aluminum squeaked as the foot shortened by a few notches. “That’s better,” Remus muttered, almost to himself. “These pads are all worn out, too. Did they give you towels?”

What the fuck? “Uh, no?”

A disgruntled exhale made Remus’ nostrils flare. He leaned the crutches against the wall with a similarly irritated tilt to his mouth. “Remind me to give you some before you go, or the tops are going to wear the hell out of your armpits. I reset the height, too. They were two inches too tall.”

“Oh,” Sirius said helpfully.

“It’s not, like, a huge deal or anything, but it’s uncomfortable.” Remus cocked his head. He regarding Sirius with a critical, but not harsh, eye. “Has your back been hurting?”

Sirius shifted in his seat. “…yes.”

“That’s probably from the height issue.” Remus’ nose twitched with clear displeasure. A pen turned between his fingers, glimmering in the pale light. Sirius hadn’t noticed the bandaid on his knuckle before. The pen stilled with a sigh, then vanished into Remus’ pocket. “Sorry, I just—Moody and I have been trying to get the guys to come in here sooner, because of shit like this. Crutches at the wrong height, no towels, not knowing you’re allowed to wash braces. You’re already uncomfortable, you know? No need to make it worse.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, god, it’s not your fault,” Remus said immediately, pumping hand sanitizer into his palm. “Just sucks that we have to ask permission. It’s not like we’re going to do anything stupid while bones are still healing.”

Sirius swung his legs up on the table while Remus rolled a stool across the speckled linoleum; his ankle twinged, but he managed to keep his wince light.

It was no use. “What was that?”

“Hmm?”

“Face.” Remus pointed at him, arching a brow. “You’re in my rink now, bud. You made a face. You can either lie about it, or get out of here on time.”

Perhaps Sirius had been a bit overconfident in how well he could hide pain. “Just sore when I lift it.”

“Where?”

“Uh. My ankle.”

“Right, I—” Remus broke off with a short laugh. “Sorry. Is there pain in other places when you lift it?”

He let Remus wave him further onto the table before answering. “I can feel it in my calf and foot. A little into my knee.”

The plastic was sticky from cleaning solution, but the cushions were perfectly firm on his lower back. He let his head rest back against the wall with a slow breath and wiggled his toes again. It was nice, being able to do that without lancing pain. Remus tapped his thumb against the edge of the table a few times before moving to stand by Sirius’ feet. “Can I take your shoe off, or do you want to?”

“Oh. Um…” He sat up further, but his fingers just barely brushed the hem of his pants. With a grind of his back teeth and a quick flash of pain, he bent his opposite knee and pulled the shoelace free. His ankle began throbbing faintly as he nudged the shoe off—sock too, thanks—and a puff of air slipped out when he finally leaned back.

Remus was watching him with a sad sort of wariness. “Can I make a request?”

You could ask me to do literally anything. “Yeah, sure.”

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

If he didn’t look so sympathetic, Sirius would have bristled. “What?”

“That—” Remus gestured at him. “Looked painful as fuck. This is an anti-pain establishment. If you think something’s going to hurt, we’ll work around it. No judgement.”

The thing was, Sirius hadn’t actually done this before. He knew where the ice packs were kept, and that the big steel container in the corner held heat pads in boiling water. He knew where the support bandages were, where Remus kept extra stick tape, and that the set of small drawers next to the desk would each be labeled with the name of a teammate so they could find specific gear. Remus had given him stretches for his sore back and arms and legs and whatever, but this—the shoes, the touching, the gentleness—there was no rulebook. No captain’s log to rattle through when he needed guidance.

“Okay,” he finally said. “That’s cool.”

“Cool.” Remus gave him that half-smile again. “Can I take your boot off?”

“Ouais.”

Remus was a lot nicer to the Velcro than he was. The rip was quieter than Sirius thought it could be, peeled off by practiced hands. He felt the pressure on his skin release immediately and took a breath at the tender feeling. Not pain, but something close. It made his heart spike every time. “Hurting?”

“Non.”

“You sure?”

“Just—makes me nervous.”

“Makes sense,” Remus agreed. “You’ve had it all wrapped up. Feels safer in there, right?”

Right. Exactly right. Something tightened in the center of his chest. “Yeah,” he said. “Something like that.”

Remus nodded. “Is it okay if I take it the rest of the way off? I can do most of the exam like this if that’s better.”

“You’re asking me a lot of questions.” He tried to sound wry. He wasn’t sure it came out that way.

“Lot of people don’t like touching,” Remus answered easily. He hadn’t moved to touch the boot again, hands flat to the maroon plastic covering the table. “I’d rather you tell me to step off now than make something hurt more.” He gave Sirius an apologetic sort of grin. “Plus, you’re probably sick of people grabbing at you. Don’t really want to be one of them.”

Sirius was sick of it. Hands and fingers and grasping through slivers in plexiglass while he was trying to move, goddamnit, when he just wanted to go back down the tunnel and finally be able to catch his breath. People grabbing him on the ice, pushing. Snape’s body against his own—a shoulder in his sternum. Fingers digging into his skin. A tight grip on the back of his neck.

“You can take it off.”

Remus had a crooked canine tooth. Had he noticed that before? “Thanks.”

Sirius’ fists clenched at the touch of warm hands on his heel and calf. It was…fucking strange, but not painful. Not unpleasant, either. Remus had calluses in the bends of his knuckles and on his palm when he carefully transferred Sirius’ foot to one hand and set the boot up by his hip.

“I’m sweaty,” he blurted. “Sorry.”

Embarrassment flooded him before Remus laughed. “Dude, you have no idea how nasty your boys are when they roll up here. Did you know I had to send a reminder to shower before seeing me? And to wear clean clothes?”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “Ugh.”

“They don’t cut their toenails, either.” Remus’ eyes flicked up to his face, bright and teasing. “I’m not telling you who, but if you can throw a little captain-y weight around…”

“I’ll try.” It almost came out a laugh. Surprise tingled in his lungs. “But seriously, you don’t need me. They listen to you like gospel.”

“Oh, please.”

“They do,” he insisted. Remus rolled his eyes. “Non, non, I’m serious—”

“Yes, I know.”

“—fuck off—you could tell them to brush their teeth four times a day and they’d be at it. They listen to you more than me.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Remus informed him. “And I also think you’re healing really well.”

“I—what?” Sirius looked down; his ankle was back on the cushion, cradled lightly between Remus’ palms. It jolted something in him. Had his skin always been that pale? He could see the line where the boot ended halfway up his calf. His foot looked ghostly in the light and everything else looked…thin. Skin and muscle, even bone.

He propped himself up on the heels of his hands. The angry, puckered scar from surgery had faded to a narrow line. When had that happened? Surely not overnight. It had looked so ugly in the shower yesterday, which was exactly why he tended to avoid looking at it. He glanced up at Remus’ patient face. Was he grossed out? That wasn’t how Sirius’ ankle was supposed to look. The knobbly bones on either side were practically gray in comparison; they stuck out, as if someone had stuck two marbles under his skin. His stomach turned.

“Sirius?”

He hummed.

“You okay?”

The joking tone had gone from Remus’ voice. The pit of Sirius’ stomach was heavy. His ankle looked weak; his calf, skinny all the way to the weird lump of his knee. “Mhm.”

“We can be done.” Slight movement caught his attention as Remus ducked to catch his eye. There was the solemnity he had expected. It was odd to see it now. “Any time. Just say the word.”

“The exam?”

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do.” Firmness had never sounded so kind. “These first steps are visual, anyway.”

Am I done? Sirius looked back at his foot, the strangeness of it, the sickly mirror of his healthy one. “Keep going.”

“Are you—”

“I’m okay.” He mustered a deep breath. “I’m good. Keep going.”

“Okay,” Remus said quietly.

They sat in relative silence, but it wasn’t bad. Sirius was glad for a break. It was easier to watch Remus work than hold a conversation. The tenderness faded somewhat under the gentle touches of Remus’ fingertips—a tap here and there, faint pressure in the soft spots. Murmurs of feeling alright? and tell me if this hurts filled the buzzing static in Sirius’ ears.

“Ow.”

“Here?” Remus’ first two fingers hovered at the arch of his foot. Sirius nodded. “Cool, thanks. Your swelling isn’t too bad. I think I’m going to hold off on big exercises until Monday, okay?”

Disappointment, bitter and tacky as molasses. “Yeah.” He couldn’t keep the sigh out of his voice.

“We’ll get there.” When he remained silent, Remus poked the peak of his kneecap. “Hey. We’ll get there, I promise. I want you to work on the rest of your flexibility this week. Keep the boot on, but stretch out your legs and back. Your other muscles have been compensating for this and I don’t want anything to get strained.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to get you back on the ice.” Sirius could hear the but in his voice before he even finished speaking. “But I won’t rush through this and throw you out there just to get hurt again.”

Hurt again. Pain, cold and consuming, flashed in his memory. “Okay.”

“If anyone gives you shit, I want you to throw me under the bus, alright?” The last strap of Velcro fell into place. Remus was even careful with that part. The pressure on his skin was familiar and welcome. He felt a light pat to the table. “Tell them it’s all my fault. That I’m being overcautious and mean and keeping you here, whatever. If the coaches have a problem with your care, they can talk to me and Moody about it. Not you.”

“Okay.”

Remus let him get up unhindered. That was nice. Sirius was pretty sure he’d lose his mind at one more helping hand. He waddled back to the desk chair at an incline of Remus’ chin and was once again relegated to watching while Remus taped some small, folded towels to the tops of his crutches before joining him by the desk.

“You did great.”

Wasn’t that a thing to imagine. Could barely get my shoe off, but alright. “Merci.”

“It’s hard to get people to come in here and actually want to get better.” Remus scribbled a few things on the chart. His forehead crinkled in the middle with concentration. “Lotta guys think they’re fine as soon as the doctors’ visits end. But this is the part that’ll make a difference in the long run.”

The chart slid across the table, followed by a smaller, far more sparkly sheet. A smile pulled at Sirius’ mouth in spite of himself. “Gold stars?”

“Very serious stamps of completion, actually.” The corners of Remus’ mouth were tight with restrained amusement. He couldn’t keep the laughter out of his eyes. “You can pick a different theme if you want. Talkie’s got Lisa Frank, which was kind of a power move.”

Sirius snorted—it was over from there. It took a minute for them to collect themselves, and as much as he hated to admit it, he did feel better after peeling a star from the sheet and sticking it in the first box. “Regarde,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Success.”

“Perfect.” Laughter still lingered in Remus’ voice. It was a nice sound. It was nicer when he looked up and smiled, like Sirius had put one of those heating pads right in the valley of his ribs. “Alright, well, that’s all I need. We can do the same time tomorrow, or you can check out the schedule. We technically have office hours, but you can shoot me a text if we need to find a different one. Number’s on the board. Make sure you give your name in the first message.”

“Okay.” Those ‘2’s again, in green marker this time. That weird feeling in his chest was softening. “Yeah, okay. I think tomorrow works for me.”

“Awesome, see you then.”

“Awesome.” Why can’t I talk? Sirius stood and took his crutches back with a slight stumble. He hoped it passed off as broken-ankle unsteadiness, not—whatever else was going on. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when the tops didn’t immediately begin to chafe his inner arms. “Oh, wow, thanks. This is great.”

“Yeah?” He could hear Remus’ smile before he even turned. He looked pleased, fiddling with the edge of Sirius’ chart. “I’m glad. Sucks to not have what you need, and not even know it.”

“Lucky we’ve got you then, eh?”

Remus’ cheeks flushed. It was rather warm in the room. “Nah. I’m the lucky one. Best job in the world.”

“Got you beat, there.”

Another laugh made Sirius’ chest squeeze pleasantly. It was good to see Remus happy, with all he did for them. “Guess you do,” Remus admitted, then shooed at him with the chart. “Get outta here, your boys are waiting. And check the box by the door for this when you come in tomorrow, got it?”

“Très bien, Loops.”

Maybe it was the adjustments to his crutches, or the promise of something like progress on the horizon, but Sirius didn’t feel quite so awful as he made his way down the hall. He almost felt good, actually. Almost hopeful.