#then during security we got pulled aside...

[snoopyracing]

birds of a feather // cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

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

warnings: google translate french and swearing

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

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

masterlist

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

five and eight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/D/N!"

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

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

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

"Merci."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi." You said meekly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mine too!"

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

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

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

"Ok!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ten and thirteen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll be fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Whatever. At least I finally learned."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him forgetting about you. 

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thirteen and sixteen

Thirteen is a very weird year for you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But its-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well.” You didn’t skip a beat. 

“What?” 

“You think you speak English very w-” 

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

“Charlie. You better run.” 

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

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

“Oh my god!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve been avoiding me all day.” 

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

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

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

“Alright then everyone get after it!” 

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

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

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

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

“Maybe.” Yes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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

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

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

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

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

sixteen and nineteen

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he was a flirt – noted. 

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

“Our little girl is growing up.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think only time will tell.” 

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

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

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

“Ah! Chérie!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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

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

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

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

“Well no but-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Never liked that asshole anyways.” 

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

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

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

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

“You gonna tell me what happened?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

seventeen and twenty 

He had done it. 

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

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

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

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

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

DING

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

Charlie: come out back 

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

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

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

“What’s got you so happy, Leclerc?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t'aime aussi Charlie.” 

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

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

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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

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

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

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

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

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

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s get this helmet off, yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Although after Monaco– things changed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leah— Charles' girlfriend.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Distance himself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um yeah. Always busy doing something recently.” 

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

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

“I-um-It’s in my-” 

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

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

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

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

“Good luck tomorrow Charles.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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

“Bonjour?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oui?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise.” 

twenty two and twenty five

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I quit?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry.” He mumbles. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

twenty three and twenty six 

The Monaco Grand Prix. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” He states sheepishly. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I take it you liked it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh please don’t.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. I should go to bed too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise Charlie.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime aussi.” 

thirty three and thirty six

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist: @rana030 @blueflorals @sltwins

[softspiderling]

so obsessed with your ex | r.c.

summary: “Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

OR If Rebecca had known that her obsession with you would lead to you and Rafe getting back together, she would've done a whole lot different.

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader / Rafe Cameron x OC

warnings: during most of this fic, Rafe is dating someone else. Sorry, it's part of the plot, but they don't do a lot of couple-y things, if that's any consolation! Rebecca is kind of delulu (actually, she is very delulu), but i'm hoping that most of you can relate to it, NO cheating!

word count: 4,1k

author's note: something very different, i'm aware, but i was like a woman cursed when i listened to olivia rodrigo's song sorry and this was what i envisioned. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!!!! Also, I want to @ my loveys @rafesmuse and @rafetopia bc ily guys, thanks for the support and my wife @ghostofwriting mwah mwah mwah, happy reading!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Rebecca had always felt secure in her relationship with Rafe.

Until she found out about you.

It all started when she was looking for a hair tie, knowing she had left a couple of them in Rafe’s bedroom whenever she stayed over.

“Baby, have you seen my hair ties? I swear I could’ve sworn I put them in the bedside drawer…” Rebecca muttered to herself, pulling open the drawers, rummaging through them. She froze when brushed a pack of condoms aside to reveal a picture she had never seen before. Rafe was talking to her from the bathroom, but Rebecca couldn’t hear a thing as she picked up the picture, looking at it with a funny feeling.

The picture looked like it was taken mid-conversation as you and Rafe were standing closely together, having eyes for no one but each other. Even thought you were barely touching, it felt weirdly intimate. More intimate than a close friend. And Rebecca had seen you around Kildare before, but you never had made an active move to talk to Rafe when they were at a party, so if you were friends, he definitely would’ve introduced her to you, right?

“Bex, hey. Did you find one?”

“What?”

Flustered, Rebecca looked up from the picture, her cheeks red and Rafe raised an eyebrow at her, a hair tie on his open palm.

“I asked if you found a hair tie. I put them in the bathroom,” he said, rounding the bed to hand it to her. “What d’ya got there?”

“Oh, just a picture I found,” Rebecca said quickly, taking the hair tie out of his hand, moving to put the picture back in the drawer, but Rafe was quicker, snatching it out of her grip with a laugh.

“Are we starting to lie each other now?”

Rebecca watched him closely as he took a look at the picture, pressing her lips together as he paused, taking it in.

“That’s-” she broke off, clearing her throat, before she said your name. “… Right?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Rafe frowned, before he lifted his head to look at her. Rebecca couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. She had never seen him like this before.

“I didn’t know you dated her,” she said, nonchalantly, hoping he would deny it. But Rafe only shrugged, glancing at the picture one more time before he put it back in the drawer, shutting it close.

“We broke up before you came on the island, how were you supposed to know?”

Rafe pressed a kiss to her temple, but Rebecca was still fixated on the picture, staring at where she knew it laid inside the drawer.

“Are you ready? Top’s gonna come pick us up in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rebecca replied, distracted. “Uh, you can go downstairs, I’ll be down asap.”

“A’ight.”

Rebecca smiled at him, waiting until he left the room, before she slid open the drawer again, reaching for the picture to stare at it, her thumb rubbing circles into the corner, wondering who was still printing pictures in this day and age. She wasn’t sure how long she was standing there, jumping when she heard Rafe yelling for her.

“Bex, Top is here!”

“Coming!” Rebecca called back and without thinking, she slipped the picture into her purse before heading downstairs.

To say that Rebecca grew infatuated with you after finding that picture was an understatement. She was obsessed.

Okay, maybe not obsessed, that had a weird tone to it. Fixated.

She was pretty fixated on you.

Rebecca immediately had followed you on instagram when she got home later that night. Scrolling through your profile, she noticed that while you weren’t following Rafe and vice versa, you still followed all of his friends and his family. Rafe’s younger sister Wheezie seemed to be a constant in your life still, judging by her comments under all of your pictures. Apparently you were still well-liked by his family friends, and Rebecca started to wonder why you and Rafe broke up. But it wasn’t like she could ask Rafe why you broke up, right?

“What?” Topper stared at her, as if Rebecca had just asked him to give her 1k. His look made her nervous though, and she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Rafe was still out of earshot.

“You’re his best friend,” she stated, albeit unnecessarily. “You have to know.”

Topper rubbed his jaw, like he was conflicted, which Rebecca really didn’t understand. What was the big deal? She had intentionally waited until Topper was a little tipsy, and now she was wondering if that was a mistake, since he seemed strangely paranoid.

“You’re his girlfriend. Shouldn’t you be asking him that question?”

“I don’t want to stir up trouble! Why can’t you just tell me?” Rebecca raised her voice, her cheeks flushing when she realized that people were starting to stare, so she burrowed deeper into the couch, waiting until everyone went back to their business. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked this at a party.

“It was a mutual break up,” Topper then answered, speaking slowly like every single word was gravel in his mouth. “Rafe never really told me why, but they just disappeared out of each other’s lives from one day to the next, as if they haven’t been dating for the last four years. But she never said anything bad about him in the aftermath… Neither did he.”

That just created more questions than it answered, but before Rebecca could get her thoughts sorted to prod Topper again, Rafe returned, his shoulders lose.

“Your drink,” he said, handing Rebecca a cup, settling down on the couch next to her, throwing his arm over the back. He hadn’t even been sitting for a minute, when Topper got to his feet, muttering something about finding the pong table for a game.

“What’s with him?”

Rebecca only shrugged, choosing to sip on her drink instead of giving an answer, her mind still reeling from the information she got from Topper. The more she learned about you, the more she was intrigued and filled with questions, that she felt like would never be answered.

“You good?”

Rebecca barely lifted her head from the window she was leaning it, her reaction a little slow. She had been… Drinking a little more than she liked. Every time she wanted to ask Rafe about you, she stopped herself and went for another drink, and that process had repeated itself over and over again until Rafe cut her off, deciding to take her home. Rebecca was more than tipsy, her inhibitions slightly out of control.

“Fine,” she replied with a little sigh, rubbing her temple. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her and she could feel her resolve crumbling. “Why did you guys break up?”

The car swerved off the road for a second, making Rebecca grab onto the arm rest to keep steady while Rafe cursed.

“The fuck?” he said, glancing over at her with a frown. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Rebecca exhaled deeply through her lips before she looked over to him, her brows furrowed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Topper told me you were dating for four years, Rafe. Four years! But he couldn’t even tell me why. Isn’t he your best friend? He should know that, right?”

Rafe stared at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. Rebecca hadn’t even noticed that he had pulled the car to the side, the motor long off.

“Is this like a test or somethin’?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “No. I’m just genuinely curious. She seems-”

Nice? Super pretty? Like his perfect match?

She didn’t finish her sentence.

“What?” Rafe muttered under his breath, and Rebecca only scoffed in annoyance.

“Whatever,” she huffed, leaning her head against the window again. “Just forget it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rafe just sitting there, turning the ring on his finger, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“We got into a lot of fights near the end,” he started, his tone defeated. “She’s pretty headstrong, likes being right. I like sticking to my opinion… It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we both knew that something had to change, even though I still…. There was still love.”

Rafe stopped, but Rebecca held herself back with saying anything, wanting to soak up every bit of information he was willing to give her.

“We figured a clean cut would be best for both of us, have no contact. Give us a chance to start fresh, see new people.”

Rebecca could tell that he was holding something back, probably something along the line of how he was struggling with the no contact rule, but didn’t want to seem like he was still holding onto you.

“She’s really pretty,” she only said.

“Yeah.”

Do you still love her?

Rebecca was glad that she was still able to hold herself back enough to not ask that. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer that much.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah. You done throwing tantrums?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes with a small smile and settled back into her seat while Rafe started the car to continue their way home. Most girlfriends would probably feel angry that their boyfriend seemed to be so sentimental still when it came to their ex, but all that Rebecca could think about was how you clearly were someone he held dearly, and that she wished to be that reach that point soon.

And when she was about fall asleep after they got home to his place, she wondered how often you had fallen asleep on her side of Rafe’s bed like this. She thought finding out more about your relationship with Rafe, she would stop obsessing you.

But she didn’t.

She kept it to herself, however, not mentioning you again after that one talk in the car she had with Rafe.

Rafe, who had been lighter ever since he talked about you, ever since she pushed him to talk about, which showed her that it was the right thing to do. Her fixation on you helped her relationship with Rafe and to her, that justified the amount of times she was checking out your social media, but Rafe wouldn’t understand. She admired you. Honestly, Rebecca felt like she could become pretty good friends with you, but what excuse did she have to talk to you besides dating your ex boyfriend? Worst case, she’d curse you out, best case she’d give you a fake smile. No thank you. Rebecca would much rather stick to admiring you from afar.

… Which was the reason why she was so nervous, when she met you for the first time. In her defense, this was the last place she had expected to see you. The place being Kelce’s house.

It was his birthday, and to celebrate it, he decided to throw a huge rager at his house. While Rebecca did arrive with Rafe, they quickly separated, with Rafe trying to find Kelce - this was his birthday after all - and her going to see her friends. After about two hours, and Rafe not replying to her texts, Rebecca started to walk around to see if she could find him. Which was easier said than done, the house was packed. When it took her nearly half an hour to get through the kitchen, Rebecca almost gave up until she saw Sarah sitting in the corner of the couch talking to someone.

“Sarah!”

Although Rebecca wasn’t the closest with her, she was about the only person she knew right now, and she could use a familiar face. Slipping between a kissing couple, she made her way straight to the couch, touching Sarah’s shoulder gingerly.

“Hey, I’m so glad I saw you. Have you seen Rafe anywhere? He hasn’t been answering his texts and I-”

Rebecca trailed off when she noticed Sarah glancing to her friend, only to realize that it was you who Sarah had been sitting with, and her words get stuck in her throat.

Oh.

“Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

“They’re probably in the basement,” you offered, maybe as some sort of olive branch. “Kelce likes to hide away down there to play pool during his parties.”

“Oh yeah yeah, Rafe probably doesn’t even have any bars down there,” Sarah chimed in.

“Right, okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, awkwardly. She stood behind the couch like a deer in headlights. You must have noticed, because you grabbed Sarah’s arm, scooting back on the couch to make more space.

“You can join us, if you want.”

“… Really?” Rebecca asked skeptically, not quite sure if the invitation was genuine or not.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Hesitantly, she sat down next to Sarah, trying to get comfortable but she was far too aware of your presence, placing her purse in her lap.

“So have you already settled into Kildare?”

Your eyes were inquisitive and Rebecca was trying to see if there was any sign of malice or distrust in them, but all she could see was genuine interest.

“I mean, I guess so… Life down here is pretty chill. Like it’s its own world…?” Rebecca winces at her own words. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”

“No, no!” You insisted, waving your hands at her quickly. “I know exactly what you mean. We went to Charleston once to tour the college campus there and it was like we were on another planet, remember Sar?”

Sarah’s eyes widened and she nodded quickly, slapping your arm in excitement. It looked like it hurt, but by the way you were laughing, Rebecca assumed it was a regular thing. She wouldn’t know, she barely ever spent over twenty minutes with Rafe’s sister.

“Remember when we were auditing that one sociology class and Rafe fell asleep during the lecture?”

“Oh my god, yes. Because he and Top were playing that stupid video game that came out two days earlier all night long.”

You and Sarah giggled as you reminisced about the past, like two best friends and Rebecca grew envious of your friendship, wondering if she was ever going to have that kind of relationship with Sarah, though you did have running start with building a friendship with her outside of being Rafe’s girlfriend. Or ex, rather. Rebecca started rummaging in her bag, acting like she was looking for something, doing anything to seem less excluded, really.

Your laughter subsided and you smiled at Rebecca, stilling her hands in her purse when she realized the attention was back on her.

“How is Rafe?”

“Oh you know him,” Rebecca replied, a little less nervous now that she was talking about a topic where she wouldn’t feel left out, taking her purse off her lap, placing it on the couch between her and Sarah. “The usual. He’s more focused on keeping up the company than ever, been away a lot.”

You nodded, tucking your hair back, and for a second, you looked incredibly sad. Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, because a second later, you were smiling again.

“I’m really glad he has you,” you then said, completely surprising Rebecca. “I think you’re really good for him. Rafe has been really hard on himself, taking everything a little too seriously, and I think you’re really balancing it all out.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline by now, she was so shell-shocked she didn’t even notice Sarah clinking herself out of the conversation, crossing her arms as she sat back.

“Isn’t it weird for you?”

“You mean because he’s my ex and you’re his new girlfriend?” You smiled wryly at her. “I guess it’s a little weird. But it’s not like there’s any bad blood between Rafe and I… In the end, I just want him to be happy, and it seems like you’re making him happy.”

Ducking her head, Rebecca hoped that it was dark enough to conceal her red cheeks. To her, this felt like an insanely gracious statement and suddenly, Rebecca felt validated for obsessing over you so much. You were great and she wasn’t being parasocial.

“I- Thank you. That really means a lot.”

“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile, glancing at Sarah when she tugged on the ends of your hair gently. “What, do you want to leave?”

“I promised John B I’d meet him on the beach at sunrise.”

“Fine,” you sighed, you and Sarah standing up. Rebecca stayed seated, though she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the conversation was cut short.

“It was really nice to talk to, Rebecca. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

Rebecca waved good bye to you and Sarah, watching as you left with Sarah whispering into your ear insistently. She sat there by herself for a while, replaying the conversation in her head, before she realized she was being weird. Clearing her throat, Rebecca grabbed her purse, that still sat open next to her, her smile dropping when she saw that the picture she had snuck from Rafe’s drawer was peaking out of it.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, pushing the picture deeper into her purse, before looking up into the crowd, wondering if you had seen it, and if you did, what you thought of her.

“Do you want to do something today?”

After discovering the picture had been sitting in the open like that, Rebecca started worrying if she just ruined her impression you had of her. But seriously, how stupid could she be? She completely forgot that the picture was in that purse. Rebecca had spent the remaining time at the party worrying what you thought of her.

“Like what?”

Rebecca rolled over in bed, looking up at Rafe as he got dressed. It was late in the morning, but still early enough for her to be tired after getting back from Kelce’s so late.

“I don’t know, something fun.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, his face disappearing momentarily while he put his shirt on.

“I have a meeting with Mr. Harris this afternoon and I’m meeting Dennis for an early lunch.”

“But it’s Sunday,” Rebecca pointed out, sitting up, a frown on her face.

“Work is work, no matter what kind of day it is.”

“Sorry, I just thought it’d be nice to do something fun for once,” she said, knowing she would spent the entire day worrying about what you thought of her if she wasn’t distracted, not noticing how Rafe was looking at her through the mirror.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “You never cared about that before.” Rafe paused, realization washing over his face. “You talked to-” His voice cracked, and Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him.

“… You talked to her, didn’t you?”

Rebecca could hear the accusatory tone in his voice and she leaned against the headboard, drawing her legs close.

“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”

Rafe was quiet for a while and Rebecca could feel a knot forming in her stomach. She couldn’t have two people be mad at her.

“That’s what she said?”

Nodding quickly, Rebecca smiled at him brightly. “Yeah. She was really nice. I like her.”

He let out a quiet huff, followed by a headshake, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

“Alright. Maybe I can cut my lunch meeting short and we can do something after,” Rafe relented, and Rebecca looked up at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later, alright?”

With a wave, Rafe left the bedroom, and Rebecca laid back down, letting out a happy sigh. Everything is working out in her favor!

A couple of hours later, Rebecca was standing in front of her closet, scanning the different clothes that hung in there, trying to decide on what to wear. She wasn’t sure what Rafe had planned, so she didn’t want to be completely inappropriately dressed. Letting out a annoyed sigh, Rebecca picked up her phone to text her friend for some fashion advice, stilling when she saw the new notification.

“Oh my god.”

You followed her back on insta! You must have not seen the picture after all and think she was weird!!!

Rebecca’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she should dm you, maybe ask if you wanted to hang out, before she decided against it, putting her phone back on the dresser, face down. She didn’t want to seem to eager, she could wait a week.

Okay, maybe not a week, Rebecca thought, picking out some shorts and a red top, but a few days at least.

When she was all done, Rebecca grabbed the keys to her car, making her way over to Rafe’s place after he said he was done. It was a beautiful day out and she was so excited to see what he had planned for their date. Parking her car behind Rafe’s truck, she got out, heading inside.

“Baby, it’s me!” she called, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t have to wait long, until she could Rafe coming down the stairs, a box in his hand.

“What’s that?”

Rafe looked at her, his face unreadable.

“… What’s wrong?”

He let out a sigh, before stopping in front of her, and as Rebecca looked into the box, she realized it was full of her stuff.

“We need to talk,” he said, and her jaw dropped.

“What?”

“I just don’t think I’m in this relationship as I thought I was, and I don’t want to string you along, Bex,” Rafe explained, pushing the box into her arms. She just accepted the box, too shocked to do anything else.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No. You did the opposite, actually. Helped me see what I was really feeling. And I thought I’d get this over with, before anyone else gets hurt,” Rafe told her. “You understand, right?”

She only blinked at him, nodding dumbly.

A grin grew on Rafe’s face, and he stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Great. I knew you would understand.”

With an arm on her back, he lead Rebecca outside, and she just let him, moving on autopilot.

“I’ll see you around Bex,” he said, standing in the doorway, his hand on the door. “Don’t be a stranger.”

With those words, Rafe shut the door in her face, and Rebecca just blinked, still not having processed the situation.

“And he said he doesn’t want to string you along?”

“Yes.”

The words were muffled.

Rebecca was facedown in her pillow, hoping to die of embarassment, even if Jane was her best friend in Kildare. It had taken her a week to recuperate before she could tell her friends what happened, mostly because she still wasn’t sure what had happened.

“Are you okay?”

She lifted her head, giving Jane a look.

“I just don’t understand why he broke up with me.”

Jane waved her off, picking up her phone. “Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll come crawling back tom- Never mind.”

“What?”

Having stopped mid-sentence, Jane was staring at her phone, eyebrows raised so high and Rebecca groaned, taking the phone out of her hand.

“You can’t just stop talking in the middle of the-”

Her eyes widened when she saw what had rendered Jane speechless: Sarah had posted an instagram story, a picture of a couple walking hand in hand in front of her. It was dark and a little blurry, but Rebecca could tell exactly who it was: You and Rafe.

“He’s such an asshole!” Jane screeched, snatching her phone out of Rebecca’s hand. “Let’s egg his house!”

Rebecca only snorted, rubbing her hands over her face with a groan. “J, no. Believe it or not, but I feel like this one’s on me.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: tell me what you think :)

[blindmagdalena]

'Neath the Mistletoe

1k homelander x gn!reader. pure christmas fluff. 🎄inspired by anon. thank you!

When you and Homelander make the decision to go public with your relationship, Vought seizes the opportunity to capitalize on the announcement with a seasonal photoshoot.

There is nothing more quintessentially Christmas than kissing your beloved under the mistletoe. Naturally, Homelander has been anticipating it since the first whispers of the season began to carry on the air.

However, this was not at all how he’d imagined it would happen. He’s been in front of the cameras his entire life, he’s used to it, but you aren’t. You’re tense in his arms, gaze flickering out to the crew, paying more attention to how you’re presenting in front of the camera than you are to him.

It’s hardly the romantic venture he dreamt of.

“Hey,” he whispers, bringing your eyes back to him. You look like a deer in the headlights. He probably looked the same way during his first real photoshoot. Still, he tries to calm you by assuring you, “You’re doing great.”

“How many of these are we going to have to do?” You ask quietly, your tension creeping into your voice.

He frowns. He knows you’re nervous, but it really squeezes out any romance lingering in the moment to think you’re dreading how many more times you’re going to have to kiss each other. If it were just the two of you, it wouldn’t matter. He’d kiss you a dozen times for each mistletoe he saw. A hundred times. He’s got years and years spent without you to make up for.

Huh. Now there’s a thought.

“Hey, let’s take five,” he calls to the crew. Immediately, he feels you relax against him.

“Thank you,” you sigh, squeezing his forearms. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to complain–”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he soothes, already fixated on his brewing plot. He leans in to kiss your forehead and gives your hips a pat. “Lemme go get you some water, ‘kay? We’ll bang out the rest of these photos, and then we can get to bangin’ out in private,” he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You laugh, giving him a playful little push, and he seizes the opportunity to split off and not only grab you a water bottle, but to pull Ashley aside for a quick word, whispering it in her ear.

Ashley’s eyes widen. She pulls back sharply to stare incredulously at him. “By the end of the shoot?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, smiling. “And wipe that fuckin’ look off your face before you’re seen,” he says, giving her arm an unfriendly pat that jostles her slightly. She immediately schools her expression, glancing at you. Luckily, you’re busy briefly dissociating while you recover from the flash of cameras and the bustle of the crew and makeup department.

“Right… Yes, sir,” she says, frantically pulling out her phone the second his back is turned.

Homelander returns to you with a crisp bottle of water and kisses your cheek reassuringly. “Almost done,” he promises you, rubbing your back. “And then I’ve got a treat for you back at my place.”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously as you drink. “Is it something to do with ‘bangin’ out’?”

“More like rockin’ around,” he says, breaking into a cheeky grin while the two of you move back into position.

Just shy of an hour later, the shoot has finally wrapped up–no thanks to Ashley’s thinly veiled stalling–and Homelander is eagerly guiding you back to his penthouse, your hand held firmly in his. Pausing at the door, he peers through it, ensuring everything looks right before he opens it.

Glancing down at you, he steps to the side as he swings the door open, gesturing you inside. “After you.”

That way, he has the perfect vantage to admire your shock as you’re blindsided by the sight of dozens upon dozens upon dozens of sprigs of mistletoe hanging from every doorway, light fixture and arch in his entire penthouse.

“Did you somehow not get enough kisses on set?” You ask playfully, reaching up to bat lightly at one of the hanging mistletoe. They’ve all been secured in place with some kind of clear tacky little bits of paste.

“Not familiar with this concept of ‘enough kisses,’ “ he says, miming quotation marks before dropping his hands to his hips, admiring the work he put into demanding this be done. They did a decent job, all things considered.

You turn around to face him, beaming as brightly as any shining star.

God, you look… beautiful. Backlit by the glittering Christmas lights decorating his penthouse–the cast of them warm on your skin–you give him a melancholic sense of nostalgia for something he’s yearned for his entire life, but never known. You look cut straight out of every Hallmark moment he’s ever dreamed of. You look the way Christmas does in the movies. You look like home.

He can’t stop himself from kissing you, your face cradled delicately in the warm, soft leather of his gloves. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, slipping his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. He leans into you the way he wanted to throughout the entirety of that goddamn photoshoot, taking so much more now than those chaste little kisses. They had only served to whet his appetite for you.

You sigh against his lips in a way that drives him insane with hunger, pushing your hands into his perfectly styled hair, thoroughly mussing it. He pushes further into you, forces your back to bow until he’s snaking his arm around your waist and becoming the only thing holding you up as he dips you in this fervent, aching kiss.

When he does finally relent and draw back, you suck in a breath, your cheeks flushed warmly, your eyes bright and glimmering in the twinkling lights that surround you both.

“God,” you exhale, licking your lips. “Now that was a kiss under the mistletoe.”

Homelander glances up at the mistletoe dangling above you, and then back down. His smile is equal parts warm and wicked. “One of many to come.”

“I don’t think my lips are going to survive it,” you say, but your eyes betray your excitement.

“Don’t worry,” he purrs. You give a giddy little yelp as he effortlessly lifts you up into his arms, settling you against his chest. He kisses you again and again, one for each mistletoe you pass on the way to his bedroom.  “These lips aren't the only part of you getting thoroughly kissed tonight.”

He made sure there was extra mistletoe above the bed.

[pray4saint]

Hello! Currently thinking about dteam and chuckle sammich honeymoon hc's! Where you'd go, what you'd do, how was IT was mm

dteam & chuckle sammy on their honeymoons

dteam masterlist & chuckle sammy masterlist & descrip. pg. 13+. gn!reader.

a/n. omg bae, i've got you! also thoughts like these are gonna be rotting my brain for the next month / nsfw versions: dteam / chuckle sammy

dream

either hawaii or france.. idk what to tell you he's a cheeseball, sticks with the classics OR on the complete opposite, somewhere thailand (but for the sake of my sanity and writing ability we're going with kona, hawaii)

definitely picked a b&b over a hotel, he wanted the privacy for that first night as a wedded couple

leaving around 11am to go to beaches all day or go shopping

when you're out shopping, he always finds a way to not-so-subtly mention that you guys have just gotten married / he thinks he's subtle

standing in a pacsun, the cashier scanned the tags of the clothes you were buying, asking the usual customer service questions, ”how are y'all doing, did you find everything okay?” and you look up at your husband before nodding, but he still spoke up, ”doing good, we just got married, this is spouse, and yeah,” he turns to you, ”i think we found everything okay.” ”mhm.” you smile at his incessant need to announce that you're married.

tbh powerbottom!dream but in an absolutely sfw, fluffy way / how he looks at you with, essentially, heart eyes when he says something begging for your approval but also making it widely known that you're his and that you're married every chance he gets

dream most definitely has that 'nothing can bring me down' mentality while on your honeymoon

also in the evenings when the sun sets and you're sat next to him or on his lap, he thanks any and every higher power he's ever heard of that you came into his life because you're stunning and he loves you so much and can't imagine his life without you

doesn't even register if fans come up and ask for a picture until you point them out, he's just so invested in you

he also doesn't get on any of his social media except to post the occasional instagram story despite how much you told him it was fine and you didn't mind if he checked twitter or updated his snap story

”clay, aren't your fans gonna worry if you go MIA from twitter?” you set your notebook aside, turning to face him. ”no honey i'm gonna spend time with you, they can wait.” he smiles at you. ”yeah i know but-” ”no buts. they can wait.”

also he inevitably gets sick on the last day of your honeymoon, which is fine because you were getting tired of going out every day / you made him soup with the small amount of food you'd bought at the local costco and he finally took to twitter to tell them how wonderful you were being

sapnap

i think he's taking you on 2 honeymoons, the first is for two weeks in texas to spend time with his family, just so you know you can always depend on them when you need them

the other is for three weeks in greece; the people, the culture, the food, he loves it and he wants to surround you in it

probably picked a hotel over a b&b

also on all the flights, during airport security, in taxis/ubers, when waiting for flights, in the hotel, he kept repeating the same words

mrs./mr./mx. armstrong, he just loves saying it, SO MUCH

”i love you, [mrs./mr./mx.] armstrong.” your newlywed husband spins you in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. ”i know mr. armstrong, and i love you.” you press a kiss to his lips, trying to get out of his arms to get back to unpacking your suitcase

i think for activities, lots of lunches out and dinners in

also a whole lot of museums and art galleries and ancient ruins, spending time talking about greek mythology and your own theories and opinions on it

sap also sometimes calls you bro on accident and you sometimes call him dude still and all you guys can ever say about it is 'it is what it is'

”what are you gonna get, bro?” he asks as he closes his own menu. he didn't even realise what he said, but the waiter did, and he just watched with intent, unsure of what was happening. ”i don't know dude, whatever you're having i guess.” you close your menu. the waiter speaks up, ”i'm sorry i know it's none of my business but uhm- are you two not, married?” he sounds nervous, as if he thinks he's interrupted some secret affair. ”wh- what? we're married. we've been married.” sap is the one to point it out, taking your hand in his. ”ah, it was just how you called each other 'dude', and 'bro'.” the waiter laughs nervously, walking away with the order written down. in unison, ”it is what it is.”

i also think he takes you shopping because he believes the people who gave you the best wedding gifts should also get a gift in return in addition to a thank you card

lots of hand swinging with your left hand to show off your ring, and hugging in lines, and kissing-bordering-on-making-out in public, he just has no reason not to anymore, you're married

george

george couldn't decide where you went for awhile, so he asked of your friends and his friends and ended up at first with iceland (this is george guys remember) but then changed his mind and picked italy and romania, one week in each

b&b >>> hotels with george, he prefers the privacy

he spent months before the wedding trying to learn the basics of the italian and romanian languages despite how widespread english is

definitely takes you out to eat A BUNCH, except for two nights in each country where you and him cooked dinner for yourselves

you can expect lots of late mornings and late nights with george, he just can't get enough of his new spouse

definitely emphasises your last name being davidson whenever there's a reservation or when he feels the staff is being a little too forward

”last name?” the host asked, eyes glued to the kiosk screen in front of him. ”mr. and mx. davidson.” your husband smiled at you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

takes you to a store at the start of the trip so you have food where you're staying / bonus if you convince him to go to a farmers' market

every day of the trip you and him have set aside an hour to talk to your respective friends on the phone (he's louder)

also forgets to tell you that he booked a redeye for the first flight out of italy/romania because when he booked it he forgot he was planning for two people instead of just himself / he apologised a lot for it

”y/n i'm sorry, if i had been paying attention i would've booked it for later in the day tomorrow.” ”george, baby it's fine. i really don't mind. it's not like i'm going anywhere.” you flash him your ring with a smile to emphasise you point, to which he returns the smile before looking at his own ring.

he apologised again when the plane was about to take off

ted

i think ted takes you to japan for your honeymoon, at least for a week to try those capsule hotels that you and him been dying to try for months

i think he wants to go see all sorts of attractions in japan; theme parks, cat cafes, boardwalks, boat tours, and maybe take you to see an anime film (my brain is rotted from wanting to see an anime film in japan im sorry)

he booked a hotel because in the moment, it felt the easiest

even in japan he would get recognised, but not nearly as often as he did in the states and he would kindly turn down any fan who wanted a picture because he was busy on his honeymoon

lots of small kisses; at the end of a boardwalk, right before you sit down at restaurants, when you get back to the hotel room, when he brings you coffee, tea, or water in the morning, just outside the restaurant when you're leaving, when you two depart in a mall for a set time of 20 minutes

i think he likes seeing the trending tags on twitter surrounding your wedding

”what'ya smiling at, like an idiot baby?” you ask him, drying your hair with a towel from your recent shower, as you walk around from where your suitcase was to where he was stood in the mini kitchen. ”'the nivisons,' we're trending honey, that's all. i think it's sweet.” ”you know coming over here and giving me a kiss is even sweeter.” his phone is on the counter and he's encasing himself around you so fast.

he definitely texted his married friends for ideas when he started to run out / also before you left he logged into your pinterest on your computer and looked for anything he could use as an idea

you guys start binge-watching a new show while on your honeymoon and made inside jokes about it (yeah you became that couple)

holds your hand when you're walking around and getting into taxis and doing pretty much anything in public because he's scared he'll lose you in a crowd

he talks to you like he would a child. ”don't let go of my hand.” ”i won't ted, don't worry.” you shake your head at his antics once he turns away.

books a later in the afternoon flight out so that you can sleep in and he can pack for you and wake you up and get you out the door slowly, without a huge rush and stress

charlie

charlie takes you to 2 places, to start, you get 3 weeks in bali plus a week in new zealand (jrr tolkien/hobbit/lotr fans are gonna love this one)

in bali, he rents a whole house, 1 bedroom & 1 bathroom with a rate of $110 (usd) a night

while you're there, he takes you to sightsee places like gunung kawi temple, pura lempuyang luhur, ubud monkey forest, tukad cepung waterfall and holy spring (tirta empul)

of course wherever you go he insists on holding your hand, just to keep you close by

”baby you gotta let go of my hand i wanna take pictures.” your husband huffs a small, ”fine.” he releases your hand, but his hands find perch on your waist while you take pictures of the water, or the shops, or the wildlife, whatever.

definitely asks if he can use some of the pictures you took for his instagram story (it's the most he's ever used his insta story) and you tell him yes but only if you get to pick them / also on the same note, if either of you snap anyone during your honeymoon or just take selfies in general, they're always of you two kissing or giving each other cheek kisses in the house or at a restaurant or at a location you're visiting

he spends a lot of time just looking at your ring and how the ring on your finger looks against his fingers and vice versa with his ring against your fingers

”charlie?” he looks up from your intertwined hands in surprise. ”hm, what?” ”whatcha thinkin' about?” ”mmm, nothin', just admiring you.” he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, making you smile and a small tint to cover your cheeks.

in new zealand it's a hotel but it's a hobbit hole hotel, complete with tours of everything new zealand could offer about the tolkien's lord of the rings/hobbit universe

more eating out here than in bali despite how much more expensive it is

(if you're not a huge tolkien fan:) lots of thank yous from him for putting up with the trip so he could enjoy it // (if you are a huge tolkien fan:) a ton of excitement for both of you during the entire trip, and lots of talking about your own theories as you learn more about the fictional world

also vlogging the new zealand trip with charlie >>>> / and cataloging the film in the airport just before your flight for you to edit when you get home

schlatt

canada. idc, canada, that's where you're going. or iceland. somewhere cold.

i'm kidding, he told you that as a prank and then took you to australia (i apologise if you can't stand the animals there but this is schlatt we're talking about c'mon)

hotel over a b&b because even he, being the big guy that he is, was a little worried about finding a massive spider in the bed

probably quite a bit of alcohol that first night as a married couple

”y'so- god sweets y'so pretty.” schlatt twirled you around with one hand, beer bottle in the other. you giggled, the alcohol affecting your words and actions. you kept one hand tangled with his while the other held a grip on your bottle of beer. ”j..y'so handsome, you know that?” he blushed, and it must've been the alcohol because your boyfriend– husband now, never got flustered over something as small as that.

there's one night where you two go out dancing and when he sees all the prying eyes of the men and women around you, he makes sure to emphasise your ringed hands, keeping one of his hands planted firmly on your side

somehow you ended up going to see some aniaml fight with schlatt and when it got a little.. gory, you'd cover your eyes with your hands and tuck your head into his shoulder or his chest

”you alright baby?” he asked, flicking his eyes between you and the fight, arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer. ”i guess. jus'wanna leave though.” you whispered up into his ear and he nodded, waiting another minute before walking out with you tucked into his side, repeatedly asking you if you're really okay.

schlatt who takes you out to dinner every other night, with the rest of the nights being used to talk to both his and your friends and watch films together

also schlatt who believes in taking turns making lunch; whether it be sandwiches (it usually is), or pasta, a frozen pizza, etc, you take turns, after all you're married now, everything is 50/50

you probably both get sick at the end of the trip from something you ate and at first you were really worried, but he got better after a day and you two days after that

i also one hundred percent believe schlatt wanted to get home as soon as possible and picked an earlier in the morning flight / him plucking you from the bed three hours before your flight so you could shower and get ready, finish repacking, etc

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

[cultofdixon]

Bundle up next to me

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • The period between the farm fire to the prison, no one talks about enough. Granted, why would you want to remember a time you felt extremely useless when helping the ones you love? • ANGST/SFW • TW: Illness / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

When you’re a little kid, watching the snow fall from your bedroom window was always an exciting thing. School closes…you get dressed in warm clothing…and you run outside to build a snowman or have snow ball fights with the neighborhood kids.

Well

This time didn’t have that feeling.

Waking up to find out that it snowed over night, lead the group in the house they were in—-to slightly panic. Rick needs to get his wife and son warm. Hershel needs to get his kids warm. They need to scavenge more for warmer clothing. Daryl needs to hunt whatever he can to provide for his family. There was a lot that needed to be done and Daryl didn’t wait to start hunting for whatever game could be lurking within the neighborhoods they hopped through.

Every new place they moved to, Daryl left for about an hour to go look for dinner. Even if it’s a bird. He’ll take anything. While Glenn, Rick, and Y/N took care of scavenging the houses for anything that will help them warm up. Leaving Maggie and Carol to start the fire and secure the places they lived in for everyone while they were out. Everyone had an assigned job during the winter.

But then there were down times…

“Y/N, hun, you don’t look too well” Hershel commented on her weak and pale complexion as she worked on a can of beans she found opening it for Carl.

The doc stating such caused everyone some alarm, if one of them were getting sick they’d need to be careful not to as well. But to also not lose said someone. Which was the thought that instantly coursed through Daryl’s mind.

“I’m fine, Hershel” Her voice was hoarse as she watched the concerned looks from Rick and Lori which made her get up from her spot to isolate herself. “Imma lay down”

“I’ll check on yea every hour. Just so you don’t get worse” Hershel frowns pulling his daughter Maggie aside along with Glenn and started discussing items that he will need that will most likely be in the medicine cabinets of homes surrounding them.

That when Daryl noticed the two get up after talking it out with the old man, he got up himself heading over to Y/N while removing his poncho.

“Oy, sit up” Daryl gave Y/N a look as she was confused but knew he wasn’t asking.

Y/N slowly sat up letting Daryl put his poncho on her and adjust it to cover all of her. He knew he would leave after check on her to find her a blanket or two that weren’t part of the surplus that Rick was hogging for his pregnant wife and son.

Daryl didn’t know much of how to take care of someone because no one correctly took care of him. But he knew by pressing the back of his hand to her forehead was to check for fever…and she was a bit warm. Least not the scary kind that yknow…turned people into walkers.

“Movin’? Again? Y/N is sick we should stay put a while”

“Daryl’s right, Rick. Not just that but we shouldn’t move too much for your pregnant wife’s sake as well”

“I found a house with a fire place. One not damaged by herds or human negligence. We can start a fire in that so it can remain ablaze while we slept at night.” Rick informs the two knowing their concerns. “We’ll be careful with moving the two. But I believe we can hold up most of winter in that house”

“If shit happens, it’s on you” Daryl states both of what he and Hershel were thinking as it wasn’t a good idea to move when the winter is getting even colder.

The Grimes took lead toward the house with the Greenes following behind them. Daryl currently carried Y/N in his arms as she was wrapped in all the blankets the archer had found her. While Glenn and Carol watched their backs.

Once everyone was in this new house, Rick and Glenn got to work on barricading the bottom floor’s doors and windows so nothing and no one could come in. Especially the snow. While Carol took care of sweeping the second floor before helping Daryl get Y/N situated in the one bedroom on the first floor when everyone else huddled with each other in the main room.

“Carol can yea—-“

“I’ve got the window” Carol went to barricade such while Daryl carefully placed Y/N down in the bed readjusting all the blankets she came with. “I’ll go get one of the can foods we brought from Glenn. See if she’ll eat”

“Okay…can yea get the thermometer thing from Hershel while you’re at it?” Daryl frowns watching Carol nod before she left to go such.

Daryl went through his pack to take out his canteen and opened it for Y/N, helping her take a sip of water. Even if she coughed a bit after such.

“Gotta get yea to eat somethin’ before I go out again”

“Be safe” She whispers snuggling herself into the blankets as Daryl brushes away the loose hair in her face.

After checking her temp, which hasn’t changed, and got her to eat a bit of the canned corn that Carol found, Daryl stepped out of the bedroom grabbing his crossbow and pack about to head out when Glenn shot up from his seat.

“Cool if I go with you?”

“Mhm” Daryl gestures toward the door indicating he’s leaving now.

The two set off to track what Daryl has been trying to find for a week. Hopefully a deer. The tracks were clear but it could’ve gone far that they can’t catch up. While Daryl kept his mind on the tracks, Glenn’s was elsewhere.

“Can’t believe she got sick man. That’s gonna be a difficult situation if it gets worse”

Silence

“If Maggie got sick. Boy I wouldn’t leave her side”

Annoyed silence

“If she gets worse, Rick might have us ditch her like we did Jim—-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP” Daryl snaps in Glenn’s face as the yell echoed through, startling a few birds but most importantly…the deer he’s been tracking. Glenn had zero time to register what happened as he quickly drew his rifle and instantly aimed at the deer shooting it.

The silence grew between them when Daryl went to check and make sure the deer was dead dead by finishing the job, before tossing it over his shoulders. He turned toward Glenn watching him anxiously hold the gun looking at Daryl with an apologetic look.

“I know you care about her, Daryl…I’m sorry for rambling about it. It’s just..”

“Scary. It’s fucking scary!” The archer snaps again, this time with a bit of regret. “I’m trustin’ Rick with everythin’ he’s doing. But if it comes to that? I’d kill him on the spot if he makes me leave the woman I care about”

“Woah. You’re scarier than I initially thought…but same. If yknow…it was about Maggie”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him when Glenn scrambled to say such. It was soon followed with a sigh as the two started their way back “home”.

“Hershel has been giving her cold medicine. Hopefully it works”

“It gets her to sleep. That’s all that matters for now…until we move again and she’s still sick”

“Well…if it makes you feel better, we haven’t had a walker incident” Glenn quickly ran over to a house knocking on the wood. “Knock on wood. We should be safe in the place we are in until the end of winter”

“Hopefully she gets better before then” Daryl states feeling Glenn pat his back in emotional response.

When the two returned “home”, Daryl prepared the meat for Hershel to get cooking on the makeshift stove they made in the fireplace. He got all the meat prepared so that he could clean himself up before taking the can of water off the brick near the fire so it was hot enough for the tea Carl found in the previous place before they left. He had heard from Hershel that tea could help so before they left, he searched the kitchen and found a few boxes before handing them to Daryl.

Daryl made his way back into the bedroom listening to the soft snores escaping the woman he cares so much for. He sets the can on the nightstand putting the tea bag in before bringing himself to sit on the edge of the bed. He knew he closed the door but he still glanced over in case someone had followed him in…he didn’t want what he was about to say to be heard by anybody but her.

“You better get better” He’s not very good at this.

“Just. Stop being sick.” Daryl scoffs a bit fiddling with his hands. “I don’t like yea when yer sick…granted never really seen yea sick” he’s REALLY not good at this.

Then a sudden giggle escaped her. Making Daryl freak slightly as he thought she was out cold. Guess she’s also a light sleeper like him. More things they have in common.

“Yea awake?”

“Am now” She whispers keeping her voice low and not using it much because her throat hurt. “You made tea?”

“Mhm! Uh. Want help?” Daryl asks watching Y/N emerge slightly from the blanket pile as he picked up the van holding it up to her lips helping her take a sip. She gently rest her hands on his wrists letting him help her but touching him in case she needs him to abruptly stop.

“thank you” Y/N smiles a bit through the grogginess and a bit of the sick pain. “you were saying?” She wanted him to continue what he was saying as his face suddenly flushed.

“I uh—-“

“It’s ok. ‘M getting sleepy again..” Y/N gently rubs her eyes as Daryl sets the can down lifting the blankets for her to lay back down before he covered her. Noticing how she would get comfy in his poncho first before the blankets.

“Holler if you need anythin’” Daryl whispers to her watching her nod but before he even got up, she grabbed his shirt.

“Can you stay?”

And no more words were said as Daryl moved to bring himself to lay down on the other side of her once he placed his crossbow on the other side of the bed. In case of emergencies.

At first the man laid on his back staring at the ceiling while Y/N faced away from him sound asleep.

Next Daryl closed his eyes as Y/N moved to lay on her back.

Then Y/N curled up into his side hiding her face toward the bed while Daryl leaned his head toward her.

Finally, Daryl subconsciously wrapped himself around Y/N as she had moved one of the blankets to cover him while she snuggled close to him. Enjoying every ounce of warmth the man emitted.

The click of a Polaroid camera was heard in the morning but it wasn’t loud enough to stir Y/N. But enough to get Daryl to glare at Maggie, Glenn, and Beth that were documenting the soft moment. Beth forced the camera into Glenn’s hands blaming it on him as she left quickly. Maggie carefully set the photo on the nightstand before quietly and quickly getting out of there with Glenn as he gently closes the door behind him. Daryl would later figure out that they only came in to check on him and Beth had found a Polaroid camera in the other room but wanted to join the two on checking on them.

Daryl sighs toward the three before looking down at Y/N who was still fast asleep through that all. He gently presses the back of his hand against her forehead no longer feeling the overwhelming burn that indicates a fever. Still a bit warm but not too alarming. He sighed once again feeling better that she was starting to get better.

The archer was about to get up, when he was tugged back down by the woman he loves. He situated himself to get comfortable again…letting her get situated in his embrace. He didn’t care if she was sick. He wasn’t going to not enjoy this moment.

“Yknow I care about yea deeply right?”

“Mhm…I care about you too” Y/N smiles against his chest knowing he wanted to also say the other thing, so she emphasized her words bringing her as close as humanely possible.

Y/N was still sick a few more days but the symptoms lessen as they went by. She didn’t even have to isolate at one point. When she was well enough to be around others, they had given the room to Lori so she would be more comfortable in a bed instead of a couch.

“Here” Daryl handed her another can of tea since the glasses were broken as he situated himself right beside Y/N. Letting her lean against him as the smallest touch made the butterflies flutter in his stomach. Making him smile out in the open toward her as she occasionally drank her tea.

“Look at what I found” Y/N whispers to Daryl showing the Polaroid taken a few days back as it made him blush looking at it. “I think it’s a keeper”

“Don’t need a picture when I’ve got yea right here” Daryl whispers to Y/N making her own blush appear as she tried to hide it behind the picture when looking up at him.

“True…but imma keep it anyway” Y/N smiles setting the can down and taking the journal out from her bag to put it in for safe keeping. Before grabbing a blanket that Daryl instantly took to cover her shoulders but she adjusted so that one half is covering him as well.

“Yer the one still recoverin’”

“Yeah but I’ve got my personal heater” She winks at the archer making that smile of his break through.

“Fine…bundle up closer then” Daryl whispers as Y/N did exactly that enjoying all it.

All of the warmth

[iamvegorott]

Magicians Don't Need Superheros Pt24

First: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

----------

Marvin paused to tie his hair back into a more secure ponytail when he and Jackie reached the edge of the forest where the new Ego was due to arrive. Host’s vision granted them a few hours of grace before the new person…‘spawns’. That explained why Jackie seemed to have been waiting for Marvin when he showed up on that roof. 

“Looks like a straight shot to the center from here,” Jackie said, tilting his head as he read his phone. 

“I’d be less annoyed if it hadn’t rained earlier today. I hate mud.” Marvin muttered, tucking the stray strands of hair behind his ears. 

“I mean, if you’re that worried about the mud.” Jackie turned his back toward Marvin. “I can give you some-”

“If you say ‘up up’, I’m kicking you face-first into a mud puddle.” Marvin cut Jackie off. 

“Um…a piggyback ride?” Jackie’s tone gave away that he was absolutely about to say ‘up up’. 

“I’ll be fine. Let’s just get whoever this new person is and go back to the House. Some tea, a book, and going to bed early sounds like heaven right now.” Marvin pushed a branch aside and started walking. Jackie was at his side a second later, trying to help move some of the lower-hanging branches out of both of their ways. 

“I don’t get why stars were mentioned when he’s showing up in the afternoon,” Jackie commented after about a minute of silent hiking. 

“Have all the Egos gotten that…vision thing?” Marvin asked. 

“I think? I mean, like, I haven’t been told otherwise.” Jackie shrugged. 

“So Host did a spiel of sorts about me?” 

“Yeah.”

“What did he say? This guy has mentions of the stars, Mad was the whole opposite thing, what was my thing?” Marvin snapped off a small twig and stuck it into his pocket. He wanted to study the plant and see if he could use it with his magic. The plants of this reality seemed familiar enough, but he’s yet to take a deeper look into them. 

“A hard shell with a soft heart.” Jackie pulled some branches back. He made an exaggerated gesture with his arm, had the biggest smile, and bowed a bit for Marvin to go first. 

“About half-right.” Marvin joked as he walked through the opening. 

“Nah, he got you pegged down,” Jackie said as he followed. “I mean, if he didn’t, you wouldn’t have made sure I wasn’t hurt during all of those falls.”

“You don’t have to have a soft heart to not want to kill a man.” Marvin rolled his eyes as he waited for Jackie to be at his side again. 

“That might be true, but you’re still really nice.” 

“Don’t give away my secrets.” 

“My lips are sealed.” Jackie chuckled, pausing when he saw a figure in the distance. “There he is.” He said with a point. Marvin lowered Jackie’s hand and squinted a bit to try to get a better look at the new Ego. 

“That’s not a Septiceye,” Marvin stated. “He doesn’t…feel right.” 

“Maybe there’s a new-wait-” Jackie tilted his head. “That’s an Iplier. That’s weird. We don’t really do crossovers with this.” 

“Maybe we should go back. It sounds like you guys have a system with this and everything is going against it.” Marvin suggested. He figured that if they were going to bail, they’d need to do it before they were noticed. 

“There’s probably like some super-mega complicated stuff about this that we’d never understand,” Jackie said. “He looks just as confused as the rest of us did. I bet he needs some help.” He jogged off before Marvin could say anything else. 

“I still don’t trust this,” Marvin said to himself. 

Call him overly-cautious but he stayed back and hidden from the new Ego. The element of surprise was always good to have. He also recalled Anti’s comment about favoring the left and his gut told him to trust it. Marvin kept his eyes on Jackie as he moved through the trees, feet glowing as he made himself silent, going until he was to the left of the two.

“Hey!” Jackie greeted, waving and going to the man.

“Who are you?” The man asked, turning and showing the red, sharp spiral around one of his eyes. Marvin was too far away to see if it was painted, tattooed, or carved on the skin. None of those options sounded too hard to believe. 

“Jackieboyman or Jackie for short,” Jackie answered, bouncing a little on his feet. “I’m here to-”

“I don’t have time for this.” The man held a hand up and started walking. 

“I’m here to help.” Jackie skipped a little to get in front of the man and finished his previous sentence. “I’m a hero.” He had a proud puff to his chest. 

“And I have important places to be.” The man scoffed and walked past Jackie again. “I do not have the patience to deal with some child playing pretend.” 

“Child?” Jackie looked a little offended at that. “And pretend? It’s not pretend, I am a hero. I’m super strong and fast and cool and-” 

“Enough.” The man turned and backhanded Jackie across the face. 

Marvin felt his heart leap at that.

Time to give some hell. 

Marvin’s feet continued to glow as he took off, sticking to the left had him at the perfect angle to rush the man. He braced his body before slamming his shoulder into the man’s side and making him fall over. Marvin used the magic on his feet to prevent himself from falling over with him, sparks of green magical energy came off him before they and the glowing faded.

“That was totally wicked!” Jackie exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “I didn’t know you could do awesome stuff like that!” 

“There’s a lot to still learn about me.” Marvin chuckled. “I-” He stopped when he felt something on his chest. Looking down he saw the man up on one knee with a red and black glowing hand on him. Marvin had a good feeling what kind of spell was about to be used on him. “Oh, fuck you.” He got out before a surge of magic went through him and he was sent flying, landing right in the center of a mud puddle. 

“Marv!” Jackie rushed over and was with Marvin in the next blink. “Holy shit, are you okay? Anything broken? I can go full fireman and-”

“There’s mud in my hair!” Marvin wailed, wanting to gag at how horrible of a feeling wet mud was and it got so uncomfortable when it dried. 

“Just a little.” Jackie tried to get some of the mud out with his fingers. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the man was gone, likely using the push as a distraction to get away. “Henrik’s got this like hair mask thing you could borrow and-your eyes!” Jackie shouted the last part when he saw Marvn’s face.

“My eyes!? What about yours!?” Marvin had the same panic in his voice as Jackie.

“They’re red!” The two yelled at the same time. 

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 316. brb x oc

a/n: OOP A SHORTY(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/267/268/269/270/271/272/273/274/275/276/277/278/279/280/281/282/283/284/285/286/287/288/289/290/291/292/293/294/295/296/297/298/299/300/301

/302/303/304/305/306/307/308/309/310/311/312/313/314/315

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca @callsign-magnolia

-

It was storming hard and Beatrice watched the large droplets hit the bar’s windows as she and Shells fixed the tables. Penny went home for the night and both women just watched as the huge dark clouds danced overhead.

Shells whistled low, “Damn, good thing we drove over here.” she says, leaning against a chair, “You good picking the kids up at your parents?”

Beatrice nodded, securing the last table against the gusts of wind that accompanied the storm. The rain outside lashed against the windows like a frenzied orchestra, "Yeah, I should be good to pick them up. My parents are used to the impromptu weather changes .They won't mind having the kids a bit longer."

Shells chuckled, “Yeah.” her eyes scanning the empty bar. "Kinda weird being here alone and in the rain,though."

“Well,Shells, the bar did close already.”

"True, but there's a certain charm to being in a closed bar during a storm. It's like we've got the whole place to ourselves."

Beatrice smirked, "You just want to raid the snack stash without anyone judging you."

Shells winked, "Guilty as charged. Aunt Penny would lose her shit…Let's grab some snacks and enjoy the storm. Maybe we'll uncover some hidden gems in the snack selection."

“Uh-huh.” But Bea does follow Shells, setting the broom aside, “Sure.”

The two women headed to the back of the bar where Penny kept a stash of snacks for late-night cravings. The dimly lit storage room smelled of aged wood and a faint hint of bourbon. Shells rummaged through the shelves, pulling out an assortment of chips, pretzels, and even a forgotten pack of gummy bears.

"Jackpot!" Shells exclaimed, holding up the gummy bears triumphantly. "How did Penny forget about these?"

Beatrice chuckled, leaning against the wall "Maybe they were hidden treasures, waiting for the right moment to be discovered. Or Penny just has too much on her plate lately."

Shells raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin forming. "Speaking of plates, I also found some of those chocolate-covered almonds. You know, the fancy ones."

Beatrice arched an eyebrow, "Fancy almonds? Penny's stepping up her snack game.”

They grabbed the snacks and headed back to the main area of the bar. The storm outside continued to rattle the windows and the roof, but nothing was leaking.

Shells settled into one of the barstools, popping open the bag of gummy bears. "Alright, let's spill some secrets, Bea. What's the juiciest gossip you've heard lately?"

Beatrice laughed, joining her at the bar. "Well, besides Miranda trying to play mind games, not much. Life has been... eventful."

Shells hums, popping the pretzel bag open and shoving a handful into her mouth, “Nothing else?”

Beatrice considered for a moment, her gaze drifting towards the storm outside. The rhythmic tap of rain on the windows calmed her a bit. "Well, Rooster's still away on his mission as you know. That's a bit unnerving, especially with everything else going on." she pauses “This whole thing is like a soap opera, but with fighter jets."

Shells snorted, "Fighter jet drama. Now that's a show I'd watch. Who needs reality TV when you've got the Navy?"

Beatrice grinned, "True. Lives that are dramatic enough without needing scripted plots. But seriously, Shells, maybe we should make a movie about this whole thing once it is over, can you imagine?”

“Not gonna lie,we'd make millions!"

"We just need to figure out who plays the villain. I vote for Miranda. She's got the whole mysterious antagonist vibe going on."

Shells raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure you want to cast the actual villain? That might be a bit too realistic. We could go for a surprise twist, like... Mav turning out to be a secret mastermind."

Beatrice gasped dramatically, "Mav, the unsuspecting mastermind pulling the strings from behind the scenes. He’d hate that.!"

The rain drummed on the roof with a furious rhythm, and occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the darkened bar. The atmosphere inside was cozy, filled with the warmth of shared laughter and the scent of snacks.

A lot of them.

In the midst of their playful discussion, Shells leaned back in her chair, a more thoughtful expression crossing her face. "On a serious note, Bea, how are you holding up with all of this? I mean, Rooster away, Miranda causing drama…"

Beatrice sighed, her gaze shifting to the storm outside. "Well,” she chuckles “Could be worse, Shells.But I'm getting through it, you know? One day at a time."

Shells nodded, a genuine concern in her eyes. "If this were a movie, you'd be the main character for sure."

Beatrice smiled, touched by Shells' words. "Thanks, Shells. I appreciate that. But hey, let's not forget you're the quirky sidekick in this movie. 

Shells grinned, raising her bag of gummy bears in a mock toast. "To being the best damn sidekick and creating our own blockbuster Navy drama!"

They clinked their imaginary glasses, laughter bubbling between them. The storm outside raged on, but inside the bar, Bea and Shells found a moment of peace and respite amidst the chaos.

“I mean,I’ll be honest.” Bea looks up when Shells said it, “I’m glad you are okay. Truly.”

Bea’s  gaze softened, her eyes reflecting a genuine warmth. "Thanks, Shells. I'm glad you're okay too. We've been through a lot, and I don't know where I'd be without my partner in crime."

“Does that mean we need matching superhero outfits?"

"Absolutely. Capes and everything. We'll be the dynamic duo, fighting off Navy drama and snack shortages."

After a while, as they polished off the snacks, Shells leaned back in her chair, a more serious expression replacing the playful one. "Bea, I know we're joking about this movie idea, but if you ever need someone to talk to about all the... craziness, I'm here. Seriously."

Beatrice appreciated the sincerity in Shells' offer. She nodded, her smile softer. "Thanks, Shells. Same goes for you, you know? If there's anything on your mind, I'm here to listen. We're in this together, movie or not."

Shells grinned, raising an eyebrow. "So, what would our movie be called? 'Fighter Jets and Friendship'? 'Drama in the Danger Zone'?"

Beatrice laughed, her eyes sparkling. "How about 'Wings of Resilience'? It has a nice ring to it."

"Wings of Resilience it is, then," Shells declared, adopting a mock serious tone. "Coming soon to theaters near you."

The streets glistened with rain, reflecting the glow of streetlights. The rain hadn’t stopped and Shells frowned"You sure you're good to pick up the kids, Bea?"

"Yeah, I'll make it in time. And I appreciate the company, Shells. It's been a strangely comforting night."

Shells grinned, "Sometimes you just need snacks, a closed bar, and a storm to make everything feel a bit lighter."

Beatrice nodded, chuckling. "True that. Thanks for being my snack buddy and partner in crime tonight, Shells."

"Anytime, Bea. Wings of Resilience, remember?"

"Wings of Resilience," Beatrice echoed, her eyes dropping to her phone to check if she got any messages before she grabbed her umbrella, “You okay closing the bar?”

Shells nodded, stretching her arms with a yawn. "Yeah, I'll handle closing up. It's just a matter of locking up and making sure everything's secure. Penny does most of the heavy lifting in the morning anyway."

"Alright then," Beatrice said, pushing herself up from the barstool. She checked the time on her phone, realizing she needed to head out to pick up the kids. "I'll leave you to it. Take care, Shells."

"You too, Bea. And tell the kiddos I said hi. I'll catch up with you soon, alright?"

Beatrice smiled, feeling a genuine sense of gratitude for Shells' company during the stormy night. "Sounds good, Shells. I'll catch you later."

With a brief wave, Beatrice stepped out into the rain, opening her umbrella against the relentless downpour. The streets were still wet, the reflections of city lights shimmering on the surface. She walked briskly, the sound of raindrops on her umbrella almost sounding like gunshots.

As she approached her car, Beatrice just looked around to be sure which way would be safer for her to go to her parents.

The rain continued to pour, never ceasing as Beatrice navigated the slick streets inside her car. The city seemed quieter in the storm, the usual hustle and bustle muffled by the downpour. She felt a sense of calm despite the chaos that had unfolded earlier.

She didn’t want to think about it.

Arriving at her parents' house, Beatrice parked the car and rushed to the front door, umbrella in tow. The raindrops clung to her hair and clothes as she entered, greeted by the warmth of her childhood home. Her parents, hearing the door, emerged from the living room with welcoming smiles.

"Hey, Mom, Dad," Beatrice greeted them, shaking off the droplets from her umbrella. "It's pouring out there."

Her mom  reached for Beatrice's umbrella before she could stop it. "Well, you're inside now. Did you have a good night at work, sweetheart?"

Beatrice sighed, a mix of weariness and relief. "It was... something. Lots of people at the bar."

“Are you hungry?”

“N-”

“I’ll make you some cocoa, wait here.”

Her dad, whose head poked out from his office, chimed in, "Well, you know it’s better than to say no. Come here, the kids are with me.”

Beatrice followed her dad into the cozy home office. The room was filled with the familiar scent of old books and a hint of coffee. Gavin and Aurora, were lying on a playmat, engrossed in playing with some of Bea and her siblings’ old toys. Nicole, looked up from her spot on a small desk where she scribbled with crayons.

"Mama!" Nicole exclaimed, a bright smile lighting up her face. "Mama!"

Beatrice grinned, bending down to scoop Nicole into her arms. "Hey, sweetheart. Missed me?"

"Yeaaa!" Nicole nodded enthusiastically, hugging her mom tightly.

Her dad,chuckled. "She's been asking about you all evening. Now that you're here, it's like a party."

As Beatrice settled in with her kids, her mom returned with a tray carrying steaming mugs of cocoa. Beatrice took a sip, the warmth of the cocoa chasing away the residual chill from the rain-soaked night.

“Thanks, Mom. This is perfect.”

Her mom beamed, taking a seat beside her husband. "So, how's everything, dear? Any interesting stories from the bar tonight?"

Beatrice sighed, her gaze momentarily distant. "Oh, you know, the usual chaos. Shells and I had to deal with some rowdy customers, but we handled it. And then the storm hit."

Her dad raised an eyebrow, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "Storm? You drove through the storm?”

"Yeah, Shells and I were closing the bar when it began.”

"Hmmm.”

“What,papa?”

“Maybe you and the kids should spend the night here, it’s safer than driving home.”

Beatrice considered her dad's suggestion. The storm showed no signs of letting up, and the idea of navigating the wet and slippery streets with the kids in tow was less than appealing. She glanced at her children, who were now engrossed in playing with the toys, seemingly unfazed by the weather outside.

"Yeah, you might be right, Dad," Beatrice admitted. "Staying the night here would be safer."

Her mom smiled, clearly pleased with the decision. "Good. We'll make up the guest room for you and the little ones. It's been a while since we had a spontaneous family sleepover with you involved."

"Sounds like a plan," Beatrice agreed, taking another sip of her cocoa. "I'll text Shells to let her know we're staying here tonight."

As Beatrice sent a quick text to Shells, then paused when she saw Rooster’s text.

Roos (21:30)

Gorgeous, don’t freak out but…if you can avoid Miranda even more these coming days,it’d be better…I can’t explain much now.

Beatrice's heart skipped a beat as she read Rooster's message. She frowned, glancing at her parents, who were engaged in a conversation about the storm.

"Everything okay, dear?" her mom asked, noticing the change in Beatrice's expression.

Beatrice hesitated for a moment, debating whether to share Rooster's message. She decided to keep it vague for now. "Just some squadron stuff. Rooster is busy, nothing more."

She had to get more info later.

[alexjcrowley]

I rewatched the House M.D. episodes with the young stalker, Ali (you know who I am talking about, the blond teen interpreted by that one Gossip Girl actress, you'll forgive me if I don't remember her name) and I was positvely impressed by the way House handled it.

I don't know how in the fandom her character and her story are perceived, but I wanted to share my thoughts and my experience with a situation like that.

If you set aside the way he jokes about it with Cuddy and only focus on how he acts in front of Ali, House is very kind and comprehensive with her. To be honest, I think it was a good way to handle the situation, maybe even better than acting downright disgusted by the thought of having an affair with her, let me explain why.

The whole time, House never takes Ali's advances seriously, which already defuses the situation they're in.

House doesn't act like he is disgusted by the thought that something that could happen between him and Ali, he acts like it simply can never happen. He doesn't dignify Ali's flirting attempts with a serious reaction. He takes everything she says as a joke, making the thought that there could ever be something between them a joke in itself.

Whether he actually doesn't remember her name or he pretends not to, it's still a very good move to keep her at distance. He doesn't give her the importance and/or attention she begs him for. Even when she gets undressed in front of him, he tries to stay unfazed. I think it's his way to dismiss her: "this is nothing but a medical visit, I see a lot of naked people, you are not different from other patients so I won't act differently. I am professional doing my job, nothing more."

House avoids direct conflict as much as he can, so he doesn't have to logically debate whether it's right or wrong they have an affair. He knows the moment he enters that territory, this already puts them both in dangerous waters.

I think this sort of gentle let down is very effective. In my opinion, if House had blown up a fuse and started yelling at her or acted rudely towards her (therefore acknowledging her offer of an affair as a serious possibility) it could have only ended badly. Either she thought it was his way of flirting with her, or she would have tried something stupid to "get back at him", raging from pulling another stunt on him- like when she got undressed in front of him- or trying to seduce another guy for revenge, maybe even some other old man who wouldn't have been as decent as House to turn her down.

House acts very weirded out by her flirting, denying her any possibility to "romanticise" that crush on him. He brings the chemistry to zero in their conversations, which is saying something for a man who always has a dirty joke up his sleeve. He doesn't think twice about making dirty jokes with Cuddy, but, since he knows Ali may take his words seriously, there is no way he is risking it.

But what really hit me is the scene in the parking lot. During the episodes, House knows what Ali is doing is wrong and he turns down her advances, but everytime Cuddy threatens to take action against her House stops her. At first this might sounds contradictory for him. What, he won't flirt with Ali but doesn't take action to stop her from stalking him? Does this mean he secretly like the attention she gives him?

On the contrary, and this is the best part for me. Go watch the parking lot scene again. House is telling Ali to go home, then Cuddy arrives threatening to call security and House's jumps to Ali's defense. Of course he doesn't want Cuddy to call security.

Later we find out Ali caught a fungal disease, but House doesn't know in that moment. All he knows is that Ali is a very naive young girl who is making a stupid mistake pursuing him because she is young and naive, not because she is some twisted criminal. He doesn't want her to end up in trouble- even worse, legal troubles- over something dumb she is only doing because she doesn't know better.

He is protecting her by stopping Cuddy. He knows it's more important to protect Ali than to protect himself from her. He is a grown man who knows to turn down a teenage girl, Ali could end up getting a reputation as a stalker/criminal or, anyway, as an easy girl with a taste for older men, and some odler men might take advantage of it. It's simply better that he has to deal with her for a little longer than she ending up in legal troubles because of a stupid, fleeting crush. He knows that's all it is, nothing serious, and he doesn't blow the thing out of proportion for her sake.

At the beginning of the post I said I wanted to express my opinion on Ali's storyline because of my experience. Without going into details, I was too a young and stupid teenage girl who, at 17, got a crush for some sort of teacher/instructor who was older than me, he was in his early thirties. I was never as confident as Ali, but I tried to shoot my shot. He could have done something about it, we were abroad- I was abroad for two weeks in his country- so we would have never seen eachothers again, the chances of repercussions would have been minumum, I was naive and easy to manipulate and it was me staying after the lessons to talk to him, one might have said I was "asking for it".

He never even acknowledged me. Same as Ali, during my last day in this foreign school- it was some sort of school holiday- he showed to not even remember my name. Did he actually forget it, did he pretend to, it doesn't matter. Look, maybe he wasn't even thinking of doing "the right thing" and I simply wasn't his type, or he wasn't interested in women, or he had a girlfriend, now it doesn't really mattered the reason he didn't returned my advances. Whether he didn't notice my interest in him or acted like he didn't, I am very grateful and I consider myself to be very lucky. Lesser people would have seized the opportunity and something very bad could have happened to me, but it didn't.

The way he "let me down" was very similar to what House did, in this sense, as he didn't dignify my attempts at establishing a connection with him. To this day I still don't know if he never noticed my "flirting" (my classmates certainly did) or he was just so kind to do nothing about it, and I am more than fine with not knowing. I realise it would have been worse if he talked about my situation with my actual school teachers, it would have put me in a very awkward position. I could have risked getting tangled up in some sort of school scandal and spending my last years of high school being known as the girl who want to get down with teachers (and a couple of them would have even said yes, but we don't have time to unpack all of that), I would have gained a reputation hard to get rid of and potentially dangerous. He pretended it never happened, and so I can do the same now.

Seeing House letting Ali down gently the same way it was done to me- it was a strange, but almost a moving experience. I have been Ali, I have been that very dumb, very young girl who thought somehow she could have done something with an older dude. I was lucky enough that the guy on the other side didn't take advantage of me- I was so lucky, so many people (and especially a lot of young girls, I have to say) get sexually harassed and/or assaulted and they're not even making the first move, like I did.

House M.D. didn't age perfectly as a show, it touches a lot of sensitive themes and not all of them are necessarily treated well, but to me Ali's storyline was handled very well.

From someone who lived it and got out unscathed, I hope every teenagers out there, if they ever get the stupid idea to flirt with someone way older, meet someone like House, who turn them down the way he did with Ali.

He never shamed her for going for an older guy, he knew it was something stupid teenagers do, he just let her understand it was a dumb idea. It's normal for teenagers to have dumb ideas, it's up to adults not to indulge them. It was never Ali's fault to follow House around (fungal disease or not), but it was House's responsibility not to accept her advances. I think more people should hear this message.

Stay safe, everyone.

[believesthings]

Not Just A Girl - Chapter 14 // Jason Sudeikis x Reader

Sitting on the bed in the new room the hotel has shuffled you to, you can’t seem to look away from the preliminary list of your destroyed belongings. Memorabilia, gifts from friends and family, pretty much your entire wardrobe – nothing had been safe from the person or persons who had found a way into your hotel room. At least you still had the few items you’d taken with you on your trip to see Jason.

Jason!! With everything that had happened you’d forgotten to call him. At least the phone has been charging while you were talking with Todd, Charlie, and the police. You tap the icon to call him and wait for an answer, startled by the garbled hello before you remember that for him it is the middle of the night. No wonder you were so weary. God if you were just still there, in bed sleeping rather than sitting there on the edge of an emotional tailspin. “Hey – oh. I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

“Hey Baby. Hang on.” You hear the rustle of movement and him clearing his throat before speaking again, “I thought you were going to call after landing?”

You have to physically turn yourself away from the itemized list that the police had given you a copy of… the page was full of words. Words… items… things. They were all just things. Things can be replaced. “No…” You are betrayed by the unsteadiness of your voice. You sigh when you see the video chat request pop up on screen. “Jase, can’t we just talk? I look like shit. I haven’t really slept since I was there with you. And I really need a shower.”

“Answer, please.”

You close your eyes and shake your head before relenting and watching him moving to sit up in his bed. Seeing his bare chest stirs both longing and guilt. “God, I should have waited to call. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“You can wake me anytime you want. I figured you had fallen asleep as soon as you got back.” He is almost playful, almost. He knows something is wrong. He narrows his eyes at you, “So – what happened? Your last text said the flight was going well.”

Everything had been going well. Even the trip from the airport to the hotel was even a decent one, aside from the caffeine jitters you’d inflicted upon yourself. He listens as you explain the security guards bursting into the weight room where you had been running on a treadmill, all the way until you relayed Charlie’s conversation with his security team and then suddenly Jason is in motion. You haven’t even gotten to the part that freaked you out the most about the whole thing. You pause your narration to watch him. “What are you doing?”

He had tossed the phone down and out of the corner of the screen you can see he is pulling on a pair of slacks. He pauses to come back into view and blink at you as though it were completely obvious. “Catching the next flight.”

“Oh, Jason.”

He’s holding his slacks loose at his hips and frowning down at his phone, thereby you. “If they’re worried about your safety I’m worried about your safety.”

“For all they know at this point it could have happened anytime during the week. While I was sitting there Charlie said he could only find key access codes for Todd going into the room and then the hotel staff to clean.” You’re trying to keep your voice steady while you speak. Maintain control. You can do this.

Jason cocks his head to the side, “It? Cleaning staff? Ok you need to explain further. You’re not talking about another fan or paparazzi incident…” He picks up the phone and perches on the edge of the bed with his trousers still undone.

“Evidently…” you don’t like how that sounded so you try the word again. “Evidently while I was there with you, someone broke into my room here at the hotel and trashed, well, everything.” You pick up the paper and hold it up so he can see the filled page. “The things in the safe – scripts mainly – survived but… God Jason, they shredded or smashed everything they could get their hands on.”

He drops the phone again and messes with his zipper and button so he can continue getting dressed. “I’m coming there.”

If Jason makes the trip to LA it will be the reverse of the situation that the pair of you were in while in London. You would be going in to work every day and he would be waiting for your return. You attempt a smile and try to feed him the same words that don’t quite appease your own feelings regarding the loss, “It’s … it’s just things. I’ll be in the new place tomorrow. Moving will be… easier? Nothing really to carry now, just the stuff I had with me there. As much as I would love seeing you so soon I don’t want you to drop everything. I couldn’t ask that of you. You have your work to concentrate on and I have mine.”

Jason sits back down on the bed, half-clad, and scoops the phone up into his hands again, “If I can’t come to the rescue then what use can I be?”

You continue to try push aside the side of you that wants to despair over your material losses. Focus on the good in your life right now. Focus on Jason. “Well if you refuse to go back to sleep –”

He cuts your sentence off with an adamant, “I do.”

You can feel the corners of your mouth briefly try to twitch into a smile. You may still be feeling angry and violated along with the sorrow over the loss, but Jason has the ability – even at a great physical distance – to lift your spirits. “I guess, talk with me? Now that you know about my wonderful day, how was yours?” You remove the list of destroyed items from your field of vision before you get comfortable in the overstuffed chair near the bed. You place the list atop the dresser and put your bag on it for good measure. Out of sight out of mind.

He yawns as he situates himself so that he can lean back on the headboard of his bed. “Well, I have a confession. Until recently I’ve had a beautiful woman in my bed.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh?”

Absently he is running one of his hands under his chin and down over his Adam’s apple. The light casts some interesting shadows over his bare chest. “The bed feels a little too big, a little too empty now.”

“All the more room to spread out.” The mental image of him throwing his legs and arms out to try to fill up the bed flashes in your head. Log that away to giggle at later. “I wish I was there.”

Jason is the voice of reassurance and reason, which was the point of calling him. “Staying here wouldn’t have changed what happened to your things. Ignoring what you went back to, it’s a good thing you went back today. Shooting went long. Since you weren’t here to come back to I stayed to greet the fans that had been waiting. I was so exhausted I fell into bed the moment I got home. If you had stayed, it would have been another long day spent with Ivan or Bruno.” He pauses, “You didn’t have to do the wash, you know.”

“It was the least I could do. Besides, we’d already restocked your groceries.” You had only washed the linens. It was just something that had kept you occupied while you waited to go to the airport. It seems like ages ago rather than just a few hours.

“True enough. Do you want me to see if we can get Ivan or Bruno to come there? You like them right? No complaints?” Mercifully he has stopped massaging his throat to hold his hand out palm up while he makes the suggestion.  

 “Jason, they’re contracted to protect you, not me. Todd and I will figure something out. He’s probably already got someone ready and waiting.” He leans forward while you are talking causing the shadows on his body to migrate. Ok enough of that. “Lord, Jason you need to go put on more clothes.”

He counters your statement, his words accompanied by a wry smile. “You need to take off more clothes. I was in bed, asleep. And be fair, I was trying to earlier and you stopped me.” Despite the emotional wounds of the day you laugh, and when you do Jason nods approvingly. “That’s more like it. Now, before you say no outright - remember you’ve told me I can’t fly there and be your white knight. What can I have delivered to your place?”

“Jason…”

He shrugs, “Fine. It’ll be a surprise then.”

You place your free hand over your eyes then drop it down to cover your yawn which delays your reply. “Please don’t.” His frustrated expression makes you amend your words, “Something small, if you must, but let me get there and sorted first, please. I think Dad was going to have one of his guys make something – a coffee table, something functional at least.” You shake your head, “After the read through I’ll…” Jason looks like he is about to fall asleep. You smile at the image you hold in your hand of the overly exhausted man that you adore. “Hey – I’m going to go.” He immediately tries to blink himself awake to protest. You talk over him, “I need to shower still and get some sleep so I’ll be able to read the words on the page tomorrow. Go back to sleep, if you have time.”

He relents which is a sign in and of itself that he needs to sleep. “Alright. Goodnight darling.”

“I –” you stutter your sentence before going a different route, “I’ll call you and show you the place once I’m able. Goodnight.” After ending the call you sit there and stare at your phone. You’re not quite sure how you feel about the fact that your mood can change so drastically depending on him. You’re too exhausted to try to analyze that at the moment though. He had made you laugh, which you desperately needed, and by trying to reassure him you were okay you had partially reassured yourself.

The things you had lost were only precious to you because of the memories you associated with them. This was a survivable event.

______________________________________ 

A text from Todd wakes you. Dropping something off and then coming to pick you up and give you the keys to the new place. He probably would have called if he wasn’t still so mad at you for staying the extra night at the hotel. He’ll get over it – eventually – maybe. There’s also a message from Jason waiting for you: Good morning gorgeous. The boys and I ran sprints in the park. It isn’t the same without your laughter pushing us on. Let me know when and I’ll try to be available for the virtual tour of the new place. Back to the long distance relationship routine – it’ll be difficult but you vow to make it work.

While lying there in bed you tap out a response: It’ll probably be late for you babe. You frown at the term of endearment – He calls you sweetheart and darling, why does it sound so odd for you to try a pet name with him? You backspace before continuing on. It’ll probably be late for you but consider it a date. Sorry for waking you last night. I hope you were able to get enough sleep – I’ll make it up to you, promise.  

The next thing that draws your attention is how hungry you are. It is no wonder – you’d showered and gone right to bed after talking to Jason and had slept through the night until the text from Todd had woken you. Todd’s timetable probably gives you exactly enough time to shower and run down to eat something before he gets to the hotel. The moment you step out of the elevator you find Charlie waiting. He probably saw you on the elevator security feed. It’s a little strange, but nice to have his company while you eat – and Todd seems pleased by it when he wanders in. Todd doesn’t mention anything about having personal security and you have no plans on bringing it up.

There has been a slow trickle of messages arriving on your phone all morning with people talking about the break in at the hotel. How sorry they are, if you need anything, how much they miss you. For the last bit of breakfast Todd kept his head down, reading things on his tablet, rather than chat with you – a clear signal that he’s still miffed. He’s still doing it in the car so you resist talking to him, but when the tenth friend from the theater back home sends you a text you risk breaking the frosty silence. “Did you happen to call either of my parents to tell them about the break in?”

Todd has your stack of scripts balanced on his lap with his tablet resting atop the pile. He knits his eyebrows together when he look up at you, “No – I thought you would handle that.”

You bite your lip, “I fell asleep.” Glancing down at your phone you frown, “That’s – weird then. How does everyone at the theater already know?”

You hadn’t even finished the question and Todd’s fingers were tapping out a sequence on his tablet. He huffs under his breath and starts to pull out his phone. “Somebody leaked photos of the mess.”

Excellent. Looks of pity and gossip to start your second feature film. Maybe it would have been better to have accepted your award and just gone back home. At least your award hadn’t been among the things destroyed – your father already had it, locked away safe and sound. Todd spends the rest of the ride exchanging heated words with various people on the phone.

 It is almost a relief to be out of the car and alone in your apartment. Almost. Being alone in your apartment just amplifies how empty it is, and how little you had left to bring with you. You don’t have long to dwell on any of it. You need to be at work to read through the acts that have been set – as well as plan out any training that needs to take place. The only real battle you can see is the training that might need to be required for the car crash scene – and if they’ll let you do any of the stunts.

You toss your luggage into the one stick of furniture you had in the house – a comfy chair sent by your mother. It only takes a second to dig your ipod out of your now well used shoulder bag. You have enough time that you can walk a few blocks before needing to hail a taxi. It’ll be interesting to see what the neighborhood looks like while it is still early in the morning. You’d seen the apartment later in the day when you were house hunting.

You’ve picked an upbeat playlist to help to boost your confidence. Perhaps not the best choice because of how jumpy you are with the combination of the events of last night plus the ever lovely jet lag, but it helps distract from your nerves a bit. You landed the job, yay. That means Mia is yours to screw up. Today is just a simple read-through with the cast. Maybe you should have stayed holed up in the hotel scouring the material for every nuance so you’d feel better prepared. Oh but the short visit had been completely worth it. Just thinking about Jason has your heart doing flips within your chest.

 A hand clamps down on your wrist and spins you around on the sidewalk. Your training for All Your Monsters kicks in and your muscle memory helps you to break the hold the man has on your wrist. The action pulls your headphones from your ears. Should you call for help? Rush back to your place? Try to run from him? Hold your ground? Why was the sidewalk deserted right now? The man immediately takes a few steps back and holds his hands up before him, palms towards you. “Woah woah – Todd said to watch out in how I approached but you were rushing away from me. I take it Todd didn’t tell you to expect me.”

You are careful to keep yourself at a distance. Just because this guy claims Todd sent him doesn’t make it true. “That would be a no.”

���Wait. Just wait. I’ll call him.” He keeps one hand directed at you as though telling you to halt while he digs his phone out of his pocket. He waits for an answer before speaking into the phone, “Todd? It’s Richard. So um, can you talk to your girl here before she tries to break my hand again?” He chortles at the response on the other end before holding the phone out to you.

You cautiously pluck the phone from his fingers and step back beyond the man – Richard’s – reach again. “Todd?”

“Sorry, I was so caught up with the release of those photos that I forgot to tell you about Richard. Meet your new bodyguard.” Todd sounds much calmer than he had in the car with you earlier, probably exhausted after yelling so much in the past half-a-day.

You eye Richard. He is rubbing the tendons in his hand while watching you talk on the phone. You frown and look out at the street. “I thought we were going to discuss this first.”

Todd barks out a laugh, “After yesterday? The only discussion will be if we are content with just one or we need to add another to your detail.”

He has a point, but you are still feeling petulant. “Well, fuck.”

“Language. Now – enjoy the day. Call me if you need to.”

You hand Richard his phone back. “Um well, sorry about your hand?”

He laughs it off while pocketing his phone again. “Don’t worry about it. Tell me that’s not the way you interact with fans.”

That really wouldn’t look good. You’re not exactly being chased down the street right now though, Richard aside. “Nobody has ever grabbed me like that actually.” You spot a taxi and start to flag it down.

“Good to know you know some basic self-defense techniques.” He waves the taxi driver off, “I’ve got a car. Parking was a pain but I’m talking to your landlord about that.” The pair of you don’t talk much in the car on the ride in. It isn’t until you’re in the building that he starts up the conversation again, “We’re going to need to discuss your routine, public appearances…”

“There’s my Mia.” Brett's interruption makes you smile.

You turn to see your costar and take in his appearance. “Hello Brett.” You momentarily tilt your head to your side to indicate your new bodyguard, “Brett, Richard. Richard, Brett.”

After greeting each other Brett settles his attention on you. “Did you enjoy your time in London with Jason?" His eyes sparkle when he questions you which makes you think he already knows the answer. How the hell much do they talk about concerning you?

"Very much. It’s beautiful there." You can feel a flush rising as you reply.

“And then you came back to… Sorry about your things.” He has fallen into step beside you with Richard following close behind.

You nod to acknowledge his statement. “Did Jason tell you or did you see the photos this morning?”

Benedict blinks, “Photos? I heard about it from Jason – oh and I’ve been told to remind you to let him get you something.”

You roll your eyes and laugh as the three of you enter the room buzzing with people. “God that man. I should have hidden his wallet before I left, out of spite.” Your survey the small crowd mingling around the horseshoe of tables. These are the people that you’ll be acting alongside for the duration of the project. Hopefully everyone will get along. You pause the conversation to move away from Brett and say a quick hello around the room. It seems everyone has heard about the break in at the hotel. You’re starting to tire of repeating yourself. How many times can you say no really, I’m fine before people will believe you?

After you sit down Brett takes the seat next to you. “Hide his wallet?”

Richard motions to the row of chairs against the wall. Evidently he’s content to stare a hole in your back from afar. You nod in understanding before replying to Brett’s question. “Of course that isn’t something he would choose to share with you. He wanted to pay for everything all week and…”

“Ok looks like everyone is here. Or they’re late… Anyway, let’s get started with introductions.” You glance around the room – most of the cast is already sitting and waiting patiently. The one or two stragglers would hopefully show before it came time for them to introduce themselves to the group.

It is key that the audience becomes emotionally invested in the couple – if they don’t believe James and Mia are worthwhile then what is the point of the movie? They’ve changed the script from the original that you read for your audition to show how the characters met rather than merely reference it, and now the bit where you and Brett would be in bed together has been expanded. Joy. 

You linger behind after the long day of reading is complete to test the waters regarding the stunts. Maybe they are already developing the mechanisms for the car crash scene. You’re no A list actor, surely they’ll at least consider letting you attempt some of the stunt work.

"No. No way. No. Are you out of your mind? There’s no way we’re putting you in that car for the crash sequence.” The director continues to shake his head the entire time he is talking to you. 

Brett had started to leave the room but loops back to take part in the conversation. He must be interested in attempting the sequence as well. Brett put his hand on your shoulder, “She’s not saying she wants to be in the car when it flips.”

“Answer’s no guys.”

“Even if it flips slowly?” Brett gives your shoulder a light squeeze in warning. He’s right, continuing to push won’t help, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to try. “Sorry, I know you’re just trying to protect us.”

This brings out a weary smile from the director. “Yes. Oh don’t look so disappointed. By the time we’re ready to film the car crash you’ll have spent so much time filming in the car you’ll be happy to let someone else be in the seat.”

The four of you leave the room, the director headed to parts of the building unknown while you, Brett, and Richard head for the exit. There’s still enough time in the day that you can at least go shopping to find a bed frame and mattress. The rest of the furniture for the place can wait until you’ve painted the walls.

Brett heads his own separate way leaving you and Richard alone to discuss the plans for the remainder of the day. The conversation has a few odd starts and stops as you walk to the car. Once you’re more familiar with each other that probably won’t happen as much. Right now you are each still trying to measure the reactions of the other. “Richard – is it ok if we take a detour rather than head straight back to the apartment?”

He is hesitant, “Dinner?”

“Well, that too. But I um, I need to go shopping?” Maybe if you sounded a little more confident in the request he wouldn’t be giving you such a skeptical look. “The only furniture I have in the apartment right now is a chair. I’m not saying I want to furnish the whole place tonight, I just need something to sleep on. Don’t worry I won’t ask you to help me put anything together.”

That promise to Richard is how you end up sitting in a pile of parts to a bed frame with Jason watching your progress with a great deal of amusement over a video call. “Sweetheart – why didn’t you just ask him to stay and help you?” He considers his own question and chuckles, “Silly question oh-stubborn-one. Ok, read it to me again?”

You wave the instructions around in the air towards where you have your phone propped up. “I’m tempted to just say fuck it and sleep on the mattress on the floor. I can follow directions. I swear! There must be a piece missing…” You’ve started to recount the parts that you’d pulled from the box, muttering while setting them aside once you’ve checked them off the list at the top of the instruction page.

“A vital piece.” From Jason's tone you can’t tell if he’s making fun of you or not. You look up with a small furrow forming between your eyebrows. He lets out a delighted laugh at your expression, “Me. I'm the vital piece. My flight would have landed hours ago. We would be sprawled out on your bed right now – you flipping through pages trying to concentrate – me doing everything in my power to distract you.”

“I… You never brought pages home while I was there.” You feel slightly stricken. “You should have told me I would have helped you run lines.”

Jason grins at you, “Three points. One: I love that you consider here home. Every time I hear you say that my heart sings. Two: I was fully prepared for the scenes this week, even before your arrival. And three: Ivan and Bruno might have enjoyed us staying in every night but I will never be one for passing up the opportunity to go out dancing with you.” 

Tag List: @my-soupy-brain @tortilla-maria1 @tegan8314 @nerdgirljen @cavillsim @superloveeverything

[loves-frogs]

In honor of my serious need for more character scenes and goofy moments in the PJO show I give you... A missing scene from episode 3 I think would be fun!

Missing Scene

After Annabeth gets off the bus, Percy convinces Grover to sneak out the window with him and get more snacks.

They sneak into the gas station behind Annabeth's back and cheerful music plays inside.

PERCY: Aw yeah they've got the blue ones!

GROVER: (In the background) tin cans!

Percy and Grover go ham, sneakily gathering snacks and staying out of Annabeth's line of sight.

GROVER: (Patting his pockets) Wait, Percy, we've got a problem.

PERCY: What? Some kind of monster?

GROVER: Annabeth took all the cash.

PERCY: I thought we split it evenly!

GROVER: Well... We did...

PERCY: Then I guess we've gotta get ours back

Percy and Grover start tailing Annabeth. Percy is about to get the money from her pocket when she pulls a knife and stops him short. Suddenly they're frozen, face to face.

ANNABETH: (Gestures to a security mirror thing) I saw you coming. (Gaze lowers to Percy's armful of food) Is that the last pack of blue Droidos?

PERCY: Uh...

GROVER: (Sneaks the money while Annabeth is distracted) Percy, Go!

Annabeth chases Percy and Grover through the isles. All are clearly having some fun. Somewhere during this, Percy runs into a fury, who sniffs the air menacingly. Soon they all arrive, panting, at the counter with like $120 worth of road snacks. Cashier raises an eyebrow. All three smile sheepishly. All return to the bus.

Later, Percy is opening the Doritos to share (Grover takes a piece of the bag. No explanation, just eats it and doesn't notice Percy's weird look.) When the fury attacks he drops his chips in the chaos.

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover watch as the bus crashes away.

PERCY: I can't believe she made me lose my Droidos.

ANNABETH: (As they all turn to leave) At least you got some.

GROVER: Ok what the heck are Droidos?

PERCY: do demigods not have Droidos?

ANNABETH: No, we do. You know those yellow triangle chips? We only ever get the red bags?

PERCY: (helpfully holds up triangle shape with fingers) the blue ones are the best.

GROVER: Are you guys talking about Doritos??

Percy and Annabeth make horrified and confused eye contact.

PERCY: Nope

ANNABETH: definitely not

GROVER: cause like... That's a really common type of triangular chip. Doritos.

PERCY: must be something different

ANNABETH: maybe it was off brand

GROVER: if you say so

(Annabeth and Percy pull each other aside)

PERCY: So... Dyslexia?

ANNABETH: Duh, I'm a demigod too. What, do you have seaweed for brains?

PERCY: Sorry oh wise one, I guess you didn't seem like the type

ANNABETH: Whatever. Let's go. (starts moving faster, then pauses) We will never speak of this again

Percy: Fine by me.

[jae-bummer]

My Idol 3: Part Twelve

My Idol from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Saturday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in a specific mission to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what four idols will move on to the second date.

My Idol 3: The Series

"This is only temporary, little friend," Chan cooed, eye level with the small vase that housekeeping managed to scrounge up. "It's Papa Chris's fault for not thinking ahead."

"Papa Chris?" you mused as you watched the man crouching in front of you.

Glancing over his shoulder, he shot you a smile. "We're co-parenting."

"Are we?"

"Mhm," he nodded, pulling himself to his feet. "And we're doing very well with it."

Your eyes trailed from your date to the goldfish doing laps in his small space. When San had originally replaced your laptop, you weren't expecting for any of the guys to buy you anything you had lost. While it would be a kind gesture, you didn't know them. They shouldn't feel obligated to give you anything. This, though, came so far out of left field, you were unsure how to process the situation.

"Does that mean we've brought a child into a divorced household?" you hummed. "Since we're co-parenting and all?"

Chan's handsome face broke into a wide grin, dimples and all. "No, no, we're just separated. We have things to figure out first."

Returning the smile, you jumped as a PD bustled into the room. Looking from you, to Chan, and then back to Chan's bodyguard, she groaned. "What are you doing?"

"Visiting," Chan said, his smile more of a cringe.

"You're supposed to meet on camera!" the PD said, exasperated.

"Sorry," Chan grimaced. Whispering, he leaned toward you. "I have a tendency to apologize after I do something instead of asking for permission first."

"Come on," the PD sighed, motioning for Chan to follow her. "We have to get you on location.

And you!" she said, spinning around to point a finger in your direction. "Act surprised when you see him."

"Got it," you nodded.

You were at a loss as you glanced toward the last remaining stranger in your room. Chan's security guard gave you a small frown before he followed the other two out.

Plopping back down on your bed, you stared blankly at the door. You felt like a sitcom character at this point. The situational whiplash was exhausting.

.

"I didn't ask for him to come to my room," you challenged, looking moodily out the window.

"I left for a few minutes to go over security plans, and you were in your room with a contestant!" your bodyguard, Hyuk, squawked from the seat in front of you. As the older of the two bodyguards, he definitely took more of an older brother/uncle role in your life.

"We were supervised!" you reminded him after stating the fact nearly five times now.

"Not by me," he grumbled.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to remain patient with him. You knew he cared about your safety first and foremost, especially considering how your date with Hyungwon had ended. It was not on your to do list to get hit by eggs again.

Looking back on your morning, your initial meeting with Chan had been abrupt, but pleasant. Ever since Insu had left your room the night before, you had been trapped in the endless rotation of your thoughts. It was nice to have a surprise come in and distract you from your own brain.

As you were on the way to your next date location, you couldn't help but have your mind begin to wander again. Aside from wondering what fresh hell the day would provide, against your better judgement, you still held out a little bit of hope. All of your dates, whether they were sabotaged by fans or not, were so, so lovely. Barring the eggs and bum-rushes, you looked back on each one fondly. More than anything though, you were constantly overwhelmed by the feeling of getting so close to so many interesting men. They had been open and raw with their thoughts and opinions, and even after being sequestered in a hotel, they still wanted to stick it out.

You shouldn’t go about putting them on a pedestal, you reminded yourself. They were ordinary people, just like you. Their jobs were just extraordinary. You were all on the same playing field, trying to figure things out.

“Are you even listening?” Hyuk sighed, turning around to send a glare in your direction.

You felt your face grow hot. “Totally,” you lied. “But just for clarity, would you mind repeating it again?”

“It’s okay to have your head in the clouds,” he muttered. “But please keep at least one foot on the ground.”

“Did Confucius say that?" you asked sarcastically, tilting your head.

“No,�� he deadpanned, not even humoring you. “We’re going to have a lot more security today. You may not see me much. I’m responsible for coordinating a lot of people, but I just want you to know that you’re safe. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, looking out of the window again. After the egg incident, Insu’s reaction had rattled you more than you would like to admit. You had never considered that a fan would go to more violent measures, but the behavior did seem to be escalating.

As the My Idol SUV pulled up outside your next location, you tried to swallow down all of the emotions careening in your chest. A mixture of fear, anxiousness, hope, and excitement danced together, none of them in step.

Sliding out of the vehicle, you remembered at the last second that you were meant to be meeting Chan for the first time. Luckily, your nerves seemed to have you prepared.

"Hi," you squeaked, staring at the already familiar face. He had changed since you last saw him, opting to wear a baseball cap and all black. The color suited him, but then again, likely every color did. That's just how it worked when you were devastatingly attractive.

Chan smiled coyly before bowing. "Hello, I'm Stray Kid's Bang Chan."

"I'm Y/N," you managed, giving a small bow back. This was going to look so awkward on screen. "It's nice to meet you."

"Much nicer for me, really," he hummed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "You look absolutely adorable."

If a human could turn red, you would have been scarlet from head to toe. "You think I'm adorable now? You should see me covered in rotten eggs."

You weren't sure why you said it, but could chalk it up to inappropriate coping mechanisms. When in doubt, make light of your misfortune.

"Really takes it up a notch?" he chuckled. "I heard about that. I'm so sorry that viewers took it that far."

"Fans will be fans, I guess," you sighed, glancing up to the building you were standing in front of. "Where-"

"No," Chan cut you off, shaking his head. "I don't know what your opinion is of our fans, but anyone who would put you through those things is absolutely no fan of mine."

"Oh," you breathed, not expecting him to respond to your statement. "I-I mean, I'm sure they just want the best for you guys."

"The best thing for me is to not worry about my personal life so intensely," he nodded. "They should focus on there's. I'm positive it's much more interesting than anything I'm doing."

It seemed like you had hit a nerve. This conversation would likely be best off camera.

"Speaking of things you're doing," you attempted to segue. "Where are we?"

Chan gave you a half-hearted smirk. He knew what you were doing and was not amused. "Why don't I take you in so you can see for yourself?"

Offering his palm, you hesitantly took it. It was difficult to describe the way that Chan was making you feel, but you were leaning toward liking it. Even though you felt like you were being pretty guarded, he had no issue reading you. Whether that was just from him being perceptive or the two of you meshing well, you weren't sure.

His narrow fingers fit well between yours, and you couldn't help looking down to appreciate his vascular arms and hands. How could something so simple be so hot?

"How's our boy?" he said quietly, eying the crew behind you.

"Adapting," you whispered. "I made one of the PD's promise to get him a better living situation by the time we got back."

"Great," he smiled. "I watched Youtube videos all the way here on how to set up the tank and-"

Notably getting more excited, you placed your free hand lightly on his forearm before motioning behind the two of you with your eyes.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "So our date today...it may seem a little childish, but..."

Chan had guided you into what appeared to be a small shopping center with individual stores renting out spaces inside. The one he was referencing in particular was not a Build-a-Bear (they hadn't made it to Korea yet) but was very Build-a-Bear adjacent.

"I thought maybe we could make plushies," he said, his expression nervous. "I'm not sure if you're into that kind of thing, but I've kind of always daydreamed about doing this with a partner."

You blinked in surprise, not at all expecting how vulnerable he looked. He was clearly uncomfortable not knowing if you thought this was lame or not and was looking to jump ship as soon as you showed any sign of disappointment.

"It's kind of silly, isn't it?" he coughed, growing more anxious the longer you were quiet. "There's another place a few stores over-"

"It's perfect," you said finitely. Something about the idea of creating a plushie with Chan was incredibly appealing to your inner child. "And not silly at all."

"Really?" he grinned before shaking his had. "I mean, yeah! If it makes you happy, who cares what anyone else thinks, right?"

"Right," you hummed. "Do you know what to do?"

"Oh yeah," he hummed. "I'm an old pro at this."

"Excuse me," a worker interrupted, wandering over from the counter. "Can I help you two?"

"Please," he winced. "I have no idea what we're doing."

You let out a burst of laughter. "An old pro, huh?"

"I may have embellished," he chuckled.

You shook your head, unsure if you'd be able to pin down Chan's personality on the first date. He was hilarious, presented as confident, but it also seemed to be a bit of a front. He was very cognizant of your reactions. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but was more than willing to do it to himself. An undercurrent of self consciousness flowed behind your interactions, and you were a bit surprised to see it.

"First, you'll need to find which friend is right for you," the worker instructed. "After that, meet me by the fluff machine."

"Fluff machine," Chan nodded, glancing around the shop. "Totally know what that is and will definitely find you by it."

"Come on," you laughed, pulling him toward the wall of plushie corpses.

You both assessed the choices in front of you before Chan spoke up. "You can totally say no, but why don't we pick out each others?"

"Why would I say no?" you hummed, giving him an encouraging smile. "That just makes it infinitely more special."

"I agree!" he said. "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't overstepping."

"Probably for the best," you sighed dramatically. "I take my plushies very seriously."

"You seemed like the type," he nodded sternly before dissolving into a laugh. Regrettably unwinding his arm from yours, he began to shuffle down the row, picking up several options and testing how soft they were.

You focused on the task at hand as well. What would be the best choice for Chan's bear? Should you make it to your preference or to his? A kangaroo seemed like too obvious of an option if you were making it in his likeness. Maybe it was safer to pick something that represented you. He'd have something to remember you by.

"A frog, huh?" he chuckled, finally meeting you by what you assumed to be the fluff filler.

"I wanted to get you something that reminded you of me," you grinned.

"Yes, when I see you, I definitely think "frog,"" he frowned, shaking his head. Holding up his own choice, it turned into a smile. "I picked a wolf."

"On brand," you nodded.

Chan lifted his brows, but you only grinned wider. "Skzoo is much too popular for me not to know about it, Chris."

"And for a second, I thought you may have been a Stay," he clucked. "Pity."

Rolling your eyes, you pushed your shoulder into his. "I'll up my game, I promise."

"You better," he teased, shouldering you back. "If you don't get your act together, I'll take the fish and run."

It wasn't long until the two of you had stuffed your respective animals and decided to put recordings in their hands. Stepping as far away from your date as you could, the words came to you easily.

"You have an amazing heart," you said into the small recording device. "Thank you for being you."

Wandering back over to Chan, you both finished up by selecting outfits. Chan was much pickier than you anticipated, but after discussing, you settled on an adorable onesie while he picked an all black ensemble.

After a small argument about who would pay (Chan won rock, paper, scissors), he pulled you over to an ice cream shop across the way. "Why don't we finish up with something sweet?"

"I'm not sweet enough for you?" you joked, sticking your tongue out at him.

"That was a good one," he laughed. "But I haven't tasted you yet."

"Whoa!" you gasped, pressing a hand to your chest. "Sir!"

Chan grinned sheepishly before ducking his head. "Sometimes the impulsive thoughts win. I'm sorry!"

Your stomach did a few flips as you replayed what he had said. He had nothing to apologize for, but you wouldn't be telling him that. You hoped your brain didn't make interesting use of his comment in your dreams.

After carefully selecting your flavors (you may have filled up on samples alone), the two of you sat down at a cafe table. Just as you were about to take the first lick, one of the PD's cleared their throat.

"Shame on me for almost forgetting," you muttered, eying the sudden appearance of the dastardly red envelope.

"I got it," Chan sighed, leaning forward to grab the challenge. Opening it swiftly, he read the words aloud.

"Could this be a sticky situation? Take ten laps around the shopping center without letting your ice cream drip on the floor. Make a mess and incur the penalty."

You glanced from Chan to your ice cream. "How are we supposed to stop ice cream from melting?"

"By moving fast!" he gasped, yanking your hand. Pulling you out of your seat, you stumbled forward into the main area of the shopping center. The set up seemed to be a large square, so the circuit wasn't too difficult to figure out.

"Can we stop the drips?" you called over to the crew now chasing after you.

"You just can't lick the ice cream!" a PD called, already finding the running to be difficult.

Chan dropped your hand and opted to keep his floating under the cone. If anything spilled, in theory, his fingers would catch it.

Digging around in your pockets, you were pleased to find the napkins you had grabbed after you had made your order. Wrapping them haphazardly around your cone as you ran, you offered a few to your date.

"Thanks!" he gasped. "This is ridiculous."

"It's meant to be," you groaned, now holding your hand underneath your ice cream. It was already starting to melt.

Tearing your way across the linoleum flooring, you dodged and ducked around shoppers and workers alike. It wasn't until the final lap that you dared to have any hope.

"We're going to make it!" you insisted, seeing your starting point in the distance. "I don't think I've spilled anything!"

"Me either!" Chan said through deep breaths. "Also this counts as my cardio for the day."

Laughing through your pained inhales, you focused on your stopping point. Unfortunately, that meant you weren't watching your feet. You hadn't realized that at some point during the run, your shoelace came untied and wouldn't actually notice until your feet began to trip themselves up.

"Agh!" you gasped, your body propelling to the ground at alarming speed. You could picture it already; splayed out on the floor, your ice cream dripping and melting everywhere, maybe a mild concussion.

"No you don't!" Chan shouted, gripping you under your arm and hauling you upwards again. You looked over to your date, shocked that he was able to correct your course without disturbing the treat in his hand.

Now overly aware of your shoe situation, you jogged with more caution. "Thank you!"

"No thanks!" he ground out. "That was entirely selfish. I don't want to do the penalty."

You laughed again, finally coming to a halt in front of the ice cream shop. "You saved the day. If I'm not mistaken, that makes you a hero."

"There may or may not be melted ice cream on your shirt now," Chan winced. "There was a good bit on my hand before I grabbed you."

"Perfect," you sighed. "I love the feeling of being sticky but not knowing where it came from."

Chan grinned at you before looking over to the production crew. "Did we pass?"

After several PD's carefully retraced your steps, they finally agreed. You both had somehow managed not to spill anything.

"Yes!" you shouted, hopping in place. Chan wrapped his free hand around your waist and pulled you in close. If your heartbeat wasn't already thudding in your ears, it would be now.

Letting your body fit into his, you tried to take measured breaths before looking up at him. "I meant what I said earlier. You really are the hero today."

"If I'm a hero in your eyes, my work here is done," he smiled shyly, his eyes tracing across your face. They finally came to rest on your lips, the sudden attention causing your adrenaline to spike again. "Y/N?"

Chan didn't need too say more than that. He spoke your name as a question, the underlying tone making his intent clear. He wanted to kiss you and your brain was screaming at you to allow it. The challenge had left you both on edge and this seemed like an excellent way to dissolve that tension.

"Excuse me?" a raspy voice called from across the room. Both of you hesitated before looking back at the little, old ice cream shop owner sat behind the counter. "Why don't you two throw those out? I can make you fresh ones."

"Oh, you really don't have to," Chan croaked, his voice much more gravelly than it had been. He glanced back to you, biting his lip.

"I insist," the owner smiled. "It'll be up in a moment."

"Right, thanks," Chan managed before taking a step away from you. The loss of his body felt immediate, like a cold bucket of water being poured over your skin. That had gotten dangerous very quickly. It was probably for the best that the worker had stepped in when he did.

"Let me take this," Chan hummed, gingerly pulling your melted ice cream from your hands. After you both wiped off your fingers and applied a generous amount of hand sanitizer, Chan knelt to the floor. "I'll take care of this too."

You were momentarily rendered speechless by the sight of Chan tying your shoe. Pulling it into a secure double knot, he stood again. "You alright?"

You knew your pupils had all but turned into hearts as you tried to choke out a response. "Never Better."

[whisker-biscuit]

SlyFox Day 6: Safe

Pt 2/2

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

By some miracle, they weren’t caught by whoever had gotten the drop on Cooper. They made it outside safely and Inspector Fox felt like she could breathe again by the time they were two blocks away. The raccoon practically draped over her had lost his awareness again sometime during their escape, and was struggling to keep his eyes open. He only stumbled forward because she kept hissing in his ear to not stop moving.

She should have just taken him straight to the police. Dragged his scrawny, drugged tail to the nearest station and dumped him in the lobby for someone else to deal with while she was congratulated for a job well done. Went on her merry way and left him to detox in a jail cell, awaiting trial and a lifetime behind bars.

That was what she should have done. That was what she was supposed to do.

Instead, Carmelita found herself struggling to get the door to her house unlocked with a dazed thief hanging off her neck like a life-size plushie. She rationalized, as she finally got them both inside and out of sight from potential onlookers, that her home was simply closer than any police station yet still secure, and thus a perfectly acceptable segue to his future as a captured criminal.

She told herself this logic over and over, more firmly each time, as she carefully laid Cooper down on her living room couch and went rummaging in her bathroom cabinet for anything that might help get whatever was in his system out a little faster.

The handcuffs around his wrists stayed on, though. She wasn’t that much of an idiot.

Eventually, the fox realized that without knowing what he’d had, giving him another cocktail of chemicals was playing a dangerous game. Instead, after taking off her jacket and arming herself with an empty bucket, she returned to his side with a determined grimace.

“Up, Ringtail,” she said, lightly slapping at his cheeks until his eyelids fluttered open. “Come on, no sleeping yet. We need to purge those drugs from your system.”

He groaned and tried to curl in on himself away from her. It would have been annoying if his body refusing to fully cooperate hadn’t made him fail miserably at it. Carmelita sighed and gently grabbed him at the back of his neck, pulling him forward until his head hovered over the bucket. He barely acknowledged the new position.

“Cooper, I need you to listen to me.”

“…Mm…”

“Sly.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, making eye contact with her with visible struggle.

“Do you remember how you were drugged? Was it ingestion or injection?”

“Nnn…”

The complicated words were lost on him. She prayed for patience and tried again. “Did they make you drink or eat something that tasted bad?”

“N-no, th’y…th’y…”

It was bizarre to see him fighting the haze in his head just to answer a single question. She had never seen him in a state like this before – and she was starting to realize she hoped she never would again.

“Th’y g’t me w’th a…” The raccoon couldn’t seem to find the right term, and tried instead to mime stabbing himself with something. His bound hands flailed but somehow completed the motion.

“They got you with a needle?”

“Yeah!” He brightened, if only for a moment, happy to be understood. “Yeah, th’se.”

Well, that made her immediate plan a lot easier, and her long-term one a lot harder. The inspector sat back on her heels as she considered what to do next. Making him throw up wouldn’t help him detox if it was already in his bloodstream, which meant she didn’t have to go through with what she’d been dreading to, and she set the bucket aside.

But he was still drugged, and very vulnerable, and she didn’t know how long it would take for his body to flush out the poison coursing through his veins. It could take half an hour. It could take half a day.

She could very well be harboring a criminal in her own home for an entire day.

The thought was a sucker-punch to her gut. Carmelita gave a sharp inhale, suddenly terrified of what might happen if someone caught wind of what she was doing. Forget losing all her cases – she could lose her entire job over this.

It was enough to make her stand up abruptly and start pacing with her hands clenched tightly at her sides. Cooper, the frustrating object of her crisis, sank back down into the couch cushions and watched her move back and forth with a cloudy gaze that couldn’t quite keep up.

“C’rml’ta?”

“What?” She snapped, voice almost a shout in her frustration.

“Th’nks. You s’ved me.”

The gratitude threw her for a loop; not because the thief wasn’t capable of it, but for the fact that he was aware enough to realize what she’d done for him. The fox turned towards him, staring at the way he looked like a kicked kit, and heaved a giant sigh.

“It was nothing, Ringtail,” she said without any real emotion. “I’m just doing my job. Besides, we both know you would’ve been lost a long time ago without me.”

He blinked at her rather dopily before a large, silly smile broke out across his face. Then, without any more preamble, he closed his eyes and promptly passed out.

Carmelita wanted to hate herself for caving to Cooper’s manipulation once again, but she couldn’t quite summon the necessary anger. Instead, she simply draped a blanket over him and left him alone. She’d figure out what to do next after he woke up.

She never got the chance.

When she came back into the living room two hours later, Cooper was gone and the window was ajar. The notepad on the coffee table was covered in slightly-messy handwriting and another page had been torn out to make origami of a very familiar symbol.

Carmelita carefully picked up the impromptu calling card in one hand and the note in the other, and began to read.

Inspector Fox,

Thanks for the rescue and hospitality. You treated me well when you didn’t have to, and I appreciate it. Sorry to cut and run without a proper goodbye, but I think I’ve put you in a difficult position for long enough today.

P.S. Keep an eye out on that club in the next week or so. Might be a chance for you to make a major bust soon.

~ Sly

The inspector slowly sat onto the couch, clutching the paper tightly as she read and reread the note. After a few minutes of processing the fact that she’d let Cooper escape, again, because of her bleeding heart, she rubbed her eyes, stood back up, and made a beeline for her bedroom where her shock pistol was waiting on her nightstand. She didn’t know how much of a head-start the thief had gotten, but she wasn’t going to let it stop her when there was still a chance to catch up.

And if both the note and calling card ended up in that nightstand drawer during her rush to go after him, well.

That was her secret to keep.

[darkenforcer]

DANCE or WEARY ( make it fair and give you options too )

COMPREHENSIVE LIST OF SCENARIOS || not accepting !

DANCE :  for one muse to ask the other to dance at a party.

"i've been thinking..." yuri pipes up from his cushy spot against the wall (his main haunt aside from the snack table), tilting so the teasing gaze upon his features appears crooked. it adds to the slurred, prodding nature, in a way. "all this 'dancing' talk and i haven't actually seen you dance. not even once. what's up with that?"

"...ya haven't?" the miqo'te's head droops to the side -- ears to match -- for only a moment before he bounces to attention (geez, all he's missing is a lightbulb above his head), "well, i'm not gonna pass up a chance to show off, 'specially in front of an audience. gonna need a partner, though… 'n lucky me-- got the perfect one right here!"

incredulous, yuri falters. a blink, then a careful, "you mean...?"

the answer is a warm hand wrapping around his, lifting it as another rests against the curve of his waist. the shock from the touch surging through his lagging, unsure form. the song's slow, but this isn't how people usually do this at parties.

after a too-long beat of silence, dar fills it. he leans forward, sly and fanged and smelling vaguely of alcohol, "aye, to dance. what else?"

ah, right. he's drunk. cringeworthy tendencies dialed wayyy up.

so after a pointedly unimpressed glare, he allows dar to take the lead, because, well, yuri's drunk, too. besides, he's not the one with something to prove, here. the pushes and pulls of the miqo'te's actions are simple enough to respond in kind, at least; their familiarity with one another's presence and subtleties likely playing a role in the ease.

in fact, it quickly becomes less of him being led and more the two of them... going with the flow, following an aimless series of steps together that come naturally despite the inebriation causing stumbles along the way. it's almost... fun!

while it lasts. the number's over in a flash after they'd wasted the first bit, yet it feels like they've swung around for an entire symphony within their bubble. a twirl every so often, yuri's eyes rolling despite the laugh he can't stifle; another whirl ending with his back pressed flush against dar for a lingering pause before the inevitable unfurling.

it's during the lull between songs when yuri's lucid enough to remember how silly this is and breaks the spell before the heat can reach his cheeks. the room's too dim to give a shit about the guests paying attention to them, but still...

"alright, very swoon-worthy. swept me off my feet, even. i'd give you my number if you weren't already my boyfriend... we done?" hand shifting from dar's shoulder to his chest, ready to shove him away, when a squeeze at his waist stalls him.

"no fun," a wagging tail suggesting the warrior's more than pleased already, but sure! "one last trick and i'll let ya go back to leanin' against a wall all cool 'n mysterious-like, promise."

ignoring the blatant dig... what sort of trick would that be? yuri shrugs, reconnecting their hold in a wordless 'go for it' that leads to another round of box steps, a spin, then -- balance askew -- returning to the other man's arms and guided… backwards?

backwards. right. the secure hand at his waist gliding up his spine as he's bent lower, lower -- disoriented, yet trusting -- it's at the point where gravity would surely drag him down when dar stops. holds. holds yuri's questioning gaze.

and with his favorite self-satisfied grin beaming from above like that, how's he to stop a pout from forming upon his pinked face (pink from the alcohol); this really is one of the most cliche things he's ever been talked into. worst part is: his partner isn't even getting to the good part!

"uh, spirale to dar'khol? aren't you missing a step?"

"mm? s'pose i could bring ya back up, but i kinda like havin' ya in my--"

rebuttal promptly knocked to the wayside as dar's tugged down in yuri's move to close the distance, lips crashing clumsily in the middle (now that's a finale!).

"...not what i meant, but finish that thought and i'm pulling you down here with me."

[petri808]

To help with writer's block: #12 Nalu!

I hope it helps cuz I can already see it in my mind!

“You kick a ball and your shoe flies off, hitting them in the back of the head.”

Nalu Week- 7/30/23 Shenanigans @allaboutnalu

Magnolia Park, so called for the large flowering trees that dot its landscape is a favorite place for many residents of the mid-sized college town. Forty acres of grassy knolls and walking trails with park benches along the way, at any given time during daylight you’ll likely run into kids playing, joggers and bikers, and people simply taking in the fresh air. Just like a group of friends who are spread out on a large colorful blanket having a picnic on this sunny Sunday. 

It’s just one of those spurs of the moment events when they ran into each other at the local supermarket that morning. They rarely have a day off that coincides, so, Lucy Heartfilia suggests they all have a picnic in the park.

“We were just about to head there, so you guys should join us!” The blonde woman beams.

Natsu Dragneel, Lucy’s boyfriend smiles. “Yeah, unless you’re busy.”

“Nah,” a male named Gray Fullbuster shrugs, “no plans.” His new girlfriend Juvia Loxar nodding in agreement as she hangs onto his arm.

Levy McGarden, another female smiles. “It’s a perfect day to hang out, right?” She turns and looks up to her taller husband Gajeel Redfox who just grunts in return. “We’re down for it.”

They pick a spot under one of the magnolia trees, thankful for the shade it provides. There’s a very light breeze that comes by now and again, but nothing that will send their blanket flying. The combination is enough to keep them cool under the warm late spring afternoon. Each couple has supplied a fair share of offerings, snacks like chips and dip or cookies, some popcorn chicken and rolled sushi from the deli, and half a dozen donuts that Gajeel tries to say are Levy’s, but they all know that’s a lie. 

For a couple of hours, the friends chat about everything and nothing, catching up on how each are doing. Levy is four months pregnant, so the girls are happily chittering, asking how things are progressing. Aside from month two’s morning sickness, nothing else has been troublesome. She also relays that they hope to find out the sex in a couple of months, and the names they’ve been tossing around for whether the baby is a boy or girl. They eventually made a deal that if it’s a girl Levy will pick the name, and if a boy Gajeel, and they can’t complain about the choice. This leads into a discussion of what Lucy or Juvia would name any future kids they may have. The guys are discussing an upcoming MMA fight and who they think will win the main event. Well, mostly bickering over which fighter they think is better. It’s just a laid back, vegging kind of day where the biggest excitement is a bee that wouldn’t leave them alone for a time. 

Well, that is, until Natsu suddenly grabs everyone’s attention by tapping a key from his keychain loudly on the side of a glass juice bottle. They all stop talking and turn from their conversations to see the man sitting back on his haunches, seiza style with a big smile and the reddest blush alighting his cheeks. “I’ve got an announcement.” He states plainly with a slight cracking in his voice. “Lucy, could you come closer?” He accentuates the request by gesturing to the spot in front of him. 

“Okay…” Lucy’s tone drips with hesitant curiosity as she heeds the request. “What is it?”

Natsu then pulls out a single shoe from behind his back. Everyone’s eyes narrow in confusion, head tilting, or brows furrowed wondering what in the world is their friend doing. The shoe is a woman’s flat sandal, light beige with an inch deep cork/leather platform sole bottom and crisscrossed straps running over the top to secure it to the foot. It’s open-toed and an open backed slip-on sandal that Lucy recognizes instantly as her own. He holds it perched on the flat face up open palm of his left hand while cradling the side with his right as if presenting a gift. Which he is.

“Natsu why do you have my shoe?” Lucy queries, but her eyes and focus are on the tiny item tied with a ribbon to the strap. Knowing, yet not knowing exactly what it is.

“Because it’s special,” he grins. “It’s the one you wore the day we met, remember?” 

“I remember, but what’s that?” She points towards the strap with a head shaking, smiling laugh. “Please don’t tell me you’re doing what I think you’re doing.”

He nods as he replies. “On a day two years ago, the wearer of this sandal stood above me as stars danced around her head and light haloed like a golden angel from Heaven…” 

“Oh my god!” Lucy mutters and palms her face despite the heat flushing her cheeks and brimming smile of embarrassment overwhelms. 

His grin widens even more and eyes sparkle in the sunlight as he puts the sandal down and undoes the ribbon holding the ring. “Lucy Heartfilia,” Natsu holds the ring up. “Will you be my star for the rest of our lives?”

Lucy snorts a laugh and pushes him lightly on his shoulder pretending to try and knock him over. “You total weirdo!” But also presents her left hand to him. “Of course, I will!”  

After Natsu slips the engagement ring onto Lucy’s finger, he pulls her in for a sweet kiss, cradling her cheek and resting his forehead on hers as she whispers words of love through the embrace. Their bonds strength is one that couples wish for, dream of; a connection where unspoken words are communicated simply with a look in a language only known to them. It’s an endearing scene made all the sappier with the oohs and ahhs of their friends and the wows from the women over the white gold band and 1/8 carat solitaire diamond ring. It isn’t a large or fancy ring, but for Lucy, just the fact it is from Natsu is all that matters. 

“But Juvia is still confused,” the woman breaks through the chatter. “Juvia doesn’t understand about the sandal.”

“Oh,” Levy laughs, “it’s about how they met.”

“It was long before we met,” Gray takes over the explanation for his girlfriend. “Lucy’s sandal hit Natsu in the head and knocked him down.” He laughs too. “It was pretty funny at the time ‘cause he had a welt on the back of his head for a week so he couldn’t sleep on it, and the guys at the academy teased him mercilessly for it.” 

Juvia turns back to Lucy and Natsu with genuine curiosity in her voice. “How did it happen?”

Even for Lucy this is a memory that she’ll be sure to tell her grandchildren about one day. Of all the ways to meet someone, this is not something anyone would recommend. But it does make the story a whole lot more memorable.

Natsu perks up at Juvia’s question. “Oooh, I’ll tell the story!” He sits cross-legged and leans in with gusto. “Gray and I were jogging through the park that day ‘cause we were in training for the fire departments physical exam…”

In Lucy’s mind a vision of that long ago day floats back into her consciousness as Natsu’s voice slowly fades away and she’s transported back in time. It was sunny and comfortably warm that day in July, not too hot like a typical summer day could get. She’d done an interview earlier that morning for a magazine article she needed to write later, but since the rest of her day was open, Lucy decided to relax in the park. It’s something she often did, taking a new novel to read and finding a bench along the walking paths of Magnolia Park. That day passed along quickly unfettered to Lucy as she lost herself in the fictional story, so by the time a soccer ball rolled up and bumped her foot, she hadn’t realized three hours had already gone by. 

She’d put her book down on her lap and looked up at the kid’s voices, calling to Lucy to kick their ball back to them. There was a group of children of various ages between 7 and 14 playing soccer in the adjacent open field approximately 50 feet away. It Was perched on a hill with a slight incline of about ten degrees, but sure, why not? It shouldn’t be too difficult to kick the ball up the hill. So, she stood, lining up the shot so it should go in the correct direction.  

And it did! The ball headed straight towards the center of the group. 

But Lucy didn’t notice the children’s squeals of joy. She only heard the cry of “Watch out!” by someone nearby. She turned to her right in the direction the male voice had come from and saw a black-haired male standing next to and over another male who’s lying on their back in the grass with their palm pressed against their forehead… and her sandal lying next to his arm. Lucy’s eyes widened in realization.

True, the ball had gone towards the kids, but her shoe flew in another direction striking a hot, pink-haired guy in the back of the head hard enough to knock him down. “Oh, no, I am so sorry!” Lucy rushed over to the two men twenty feet away, dropping to her knees. “Are you hurt?!” 

The male rolled over and groaned, his eyes still blocked by his hand. “What’s that thing made of wood? It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.” He moved his hand and looked up towards the female voice, squinting as his eyes readjusted to the sunlight. He blinks a couple times and tips his head slightly. “Did I die and you’re an Angel taking me to heaven?”

“Oh, brother…” The black-haired male rolled his eyes at the lame pick-up line. “Idiot.”

Completely flustered, Lucy’s face turned cherry red. It had been a while since a guy had tried to talk to her, and this one was certainly in the top 5 of hottest guys who’ve hit on her before. “N-No, not an angel,” she stammered, “a journalist.” She reached over and helped him to a sitting position. “Maybe I should grab some ice,” she suggested when noticing the angry bump developing on the back of the man’s head. 

The man shook his head no. “What you can do is tell me your name.”

“Lucy.” She responded. “And you are?”

“Nice to me you Lucy,” he held out his hand, “I’m Natsu…” 

The memory of him flashing his pearly white smile that sent a shiver through her soul, fades away back to the present, and being surrounded once again by their best friends. If someone had asked her if two years later, she’d be back in the same park being proposed to with the same shoe by the guy who’d been hit by said shoe in the head Lucy would’ve said they were in a fairytale. Well, and here she is. She smiles as Natsu reaches the end of the story. 

“And that’s when I asked for her number, and we’ve been together ever since.” Natsu proudly proclaims. 

“Juvia thinks that’s such a sweet story!”  

Levy chuckles. “I remember when she called me that night to tell me about Natsu. She couldn’t stop talking about how hot he was.”

“Hey!” 

Lucy squeals and dives to cover Levy’s mouth, but Levy ducks and continues. “She was known for her soccer kick in high school,” she laughs, “but never would’ve guessed she’d catch a guy with it!”

“Ha Ha,” Lucy rolls her eyes feigning that she’s not embarrassed despite the blush in her cheeks. “It’s not like I was trying to, but at least it’ll be a funny story to tell the kids one day.”

Natsu suddenly perks up in confused excitement. Did he hear what he thinks he heard? “Huh, kids?!”   

[the-white-soul]

We've got some good thoughts already, aside from Sans. The only thing he's eager about is quitting. You can't blame him with how hard this all is, but we have to win this case despite that!

Let's see... During the war, we couldn't even manage to take one life while countless monsters died. They were also allowed to make these murders since it's a given of war, but all this means is monsters haven't manage to kill anyone until Asgore's seven souls. Humans are much more bloodthirsty, and most monsters could hardly even hurt humans if they tried. At the point when souls were taken, we were forced to do so just to live free from a barrier which was put in place for no real reason in the first place. Monsters were innocent for the longest time and beaten down on by humans for that one instance with the curious child who absorbed the soul of their already dead friend. The kid didn't even try to harm anyone with it, like Alphys said.

I'd like to say I should go as a witness as well since I also know asgore well and grew up in politics so I know how things work, but then again I didn't perform well last speech and I might ruin this again in addition to sparking some negative reactions just by showing me face.

Speaking of, d'you think people are going to try to take me for murder? Or would the police not care since that human was obviously an idiot? At least I hope it was obvious.

(Kara) "Honestly, I have no idea. How hasn't he been arrested? I'm happy about it but confused." (John) "While you are probably a criminal, you are a criminal of war, so…" (Dess) "It doesn't matter. We have great security." (Kara) "People spraypainted your house." (Dess) "They were protecting you. They are everywhere." (Kara) "Spies cost money." (Dess) "You want to know how we can afford everything? There's one monster who's so popular even some humans give him plenty of money." (Mettaton) "It's me, darlings! You can see why, can't you? I'm so glamorous it connects the world because everyone agrees I'm hot." (Kara) "Whatever pays. Now, one last question." (Dess) "What is it?" (Kara) "What will we do with the Anons?" (Dess) "I was about to ask the same thing."

(Kara) "How many problems can we handle? I feel like I'm about to explode. You can change your voice, as well. Great, now you could all be psychos. 'Hey Kara, did you have enough stress today? No? Well, let's make it so you want to pull out your hair and punch yourself so hard you'll be unconscious. Won't that be great?'Looks around and sees the monsters hiding behind a chair. Sorry, something slipped out. Now, how did you get here? Cause when one person gets in…"

(Kara) "Wait, Chara did this again?" (Dess) "Um, Kara? I don't mean to alarm you too much, but we're not hiding because of you." Kara turns around and sees Chara pop out. (Chara) "Howdy!" (Kara) "Oh shit!" (Chara) "Don't worry, I'm not here because of blood lust. Well, not now. Tee hee. I'm here because I thought a flower would've been my mailman, but he seems too afraid. Don't worry. I'll tell them. Winks. You see, I think you should take this more seriously." (Kara) "Why?" (Chara) "Oh, let's just say monsters will be free one way or another, whether it's by death or love. Most likely both. I guess you've met some of the anons. I thought about giving you a little fun because we all know how boring court dramas can be." (Dess) "Don't you want monsters having less discrimination? How does bringing more hate solve anything?" (Chara) "Well, if you can't handle a simple creature like an anon, you should give up! I promise you I'll make it quick." No one spoke. The wind could've gone 1 MPH, and everyone would've heard it. (Chara) "Okay! If you want a ridiculous trial, then who am I to judge? Good luck! Try not to die to the anons!"

[dr-docktor]

HIHIHI!!!

I’m in love with your saf AUs man… I will take any amount of rambling I can get pleasepleasepleaseplease 🥺

- 😇🪽

HI HI HI!!! Sorry it took me so long to get to this, I was actually stumped on what to talk about. And I know this isn't what you wanted but here it is nonetheless.

Here is why SaF fans should watch Sneakers (1992)

It's my favorite heist movie of all time

there's a lot of parallels to GoldenEye (the James Bond movie that SaF parodies) despite predating it by 3 years and therefore has a lot of moments that has me pointing at the screen like "!!!!! Spies are Forever reference!!!!"

it's funny as shit (aside from like one eughhhh moment during the first heist)

And also the main character is based as hell (learns from his ex-best friends mistakes and steals a shitload of money from the republican party and donates it all to various charities like the UNCF and Greenpeace)

The film actually brought on experts in the field of codebreaking and technology to make the actual hacking/heist parts of the movie as realistic as possible! (Aside from The Black Box but it's done in such a cool way that I can't be upset)

THE CINEMETOGRAPHY UGH OHHHH MY GOD THE MOVIE IS SOOO PRETTY

Doesn't infantilize the disabled character! Nor does the movie really pretend that his blindness gives him superpowers. (Like he doesn't have super hearing. He's just picking up on stuff that most people miss because they're not paying attention to what's being said)

James Earl Jones is in it.

The film follows a guy named Martin Bishop (formerly Martin Brice) and his team. They get hired by banks to break into their own places and to give a report on the weaknesses in security (based on a real profession!)

Martin gets blackmailed by the NSA to steal a 'little black box' from some mathematician. And realizes he is WAY in over his head once he realizes what it is. And that's just the first half of the movie! It delves into this really interesting mystery around the halfway point as everything we thought we knew becomes unraveled. And that's where the SaF parallels start to come in.

SPOILERS FOR SNEAKERS UNDER THE CUT

In the first scene of the movie, it's December of 1969. Martin and his friend Cosmo are in college pulling their idea of a prank.

That prank being hacking into numerous bank accounts-- including but not limited to the Republican Party and Richard Nixon's personal checking account -- and donating it to organizations like The Black Panthers.

They get hungry and Cosmo cheats his way out of having to go out into the cold to get pizza. So of course, Martin goes to get it.

But while he's out, the cops arrive and arrest Cosmo while Martin just barely manages to get away. Cos is later said to have died in prison.

YOU SEE THE CONNECTIONS ALREADY, RIGHT?

So right off the bat it's like. Okay, Cosmo is Owen and Martin is Curt. Right? And on the surface I'd say yeah. But also... it IS Cosmo's fault that he got caught. He rigged the little game they used to decide who has to run for pizza and because of that he got caught.

And that's sort of what's super interesting to me about Cosmo vs Owen and Martin vs Curt. Cos comes REALLY close to being Owen but misses the parallel by mere INCHES.

In the second half of the movie, as the conspiracy and mystery clicks into place, Cosmo is revealed to not only be alive but the orchestrator behind all of it. He, of course, wants to 'change the world' by using the black box to crash 'the whole damn system'. That being money, proof of ownership over property, etc.

And at first it comes off as another obnoxious 'oooooo scary leftist' trope. But looking at who Cosmo has become, it's clear that this idea is just something from his past that he desperately clings to in order to act like things haven't changed.

He wears expensive suits, has a james-bond-villain-esque office, runs an entire damn company as a front for his plans, AND has a side job of managing the mafia's finances. He carries himself like he enjoys this power.

Even the damn decoration in his otherwise bare office show this!! (sorry for the low quality screenshot)

AS IN HE'S LITERALLY A CUT OUT OF EVERY OTHER CORPORATE ASSHOLE NOW. HE IS THE SYSTEM HE CLAIMS TO WANT TO BREAK.

AND THATS WHY HE'S SO DIFFERENT FROM OWEN. And yet Cosmo is just as obsessed with 'winning' against Martin as Owen claims to be against Curt. Cosmo holds Martin at gunpoint, PLEADING with him not to leave again in a confrontation very reminiscent of the staircase scene. Cosmo is just as obsessed with the advancement of technology as Owen is and wants to harness it in the exact same way.

Meanwhile there's Curt vs Martin. Who could not be more different as protagonists in a SUPER interesting way. I guess a lot of the differences stem from the fact that Martin is ALSO a tech nerd and also the fact that its been decades since Cosmo 'died' in prison as opposed to a few years. And throughout the movie, Martin sort of insists the inciting incident was nothing more than a stupid prank.

But Martin learns from both his and Cosmo's mistakes. Unlike Curt.

Martin takes the black box and rather than destroying it immediately, uses it to do one last act of good in the world (bankrupting the Republican party and donating it all to charities) before presumably destroying it. Rather than giving it to the government like the story so desperately wants him to do.

Idk, Martin and Cosmo are such interesting mirrors of Curtwen that my brain just won't let them go. Maybe other people don't see the connection but I do.

ALSO ONE LAST PART: the cinematography. WOUGH.

JUST... THE WAY GREG LEANS INTO THE SHADOW WHILE HE'S TELLING MARTIN TO TRUST HIM ITS SUCH A SIMPLE THING BUT DRIVES ME UP THE WALL INSANE EVERY GODDAMN TIME

Also the fact that Martin is just casually friends with Greg, a Russian spy (especially JUST post-cold war), is incredibly funny to me.

ANYWAY THAT'S MY RAMBLING I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!