I Want To Write Some Seventeen Fics But I Dont Have Ideas, So Request Are Open!

I want to write some seventeen fics but I dont have ideas, so request are open!

I can write fluff, angst, etc. Smut its hard for me, but I can try it.

Tags

kpop s.coups seventeen joshua Dino hoshi mingyu woozi jun wonwoo vernon jeonghan minghao lee chan dokyeom seungkwan boyfriends dk seventeen kpop seventeen fic seventeen imagine seventeen requests

✦ Minhyuk y Moonbin

Pedido N° 2: Park Minhyuk y Moon Bin

Extencion: 3.2k

Tags: stepbrothers, angst pero happy ending, malentendidos por todas partes

also in ao3

Moon Bin había tomado la decisión de irse de su casa a los diecinueve años, su madre no entendía su decisión tan repentina, pero no lo detuvo. Su padrastro ni siquiera opino, su relación no era mala, al contrario, le tenía mucho cariño sin embargo habían hecho un trato silencioso en el que ninguno se entrometía en las decisiones del otro y eso funcionó.

Vivir con Dongmin tampoco había sido fácil, porque en el momento que acordaron lo de irse a vivir juntos, Bin se había olvidado que su amigo salía con Sanha; quien era una pulga de la cual no podía deshacerse ni con el peor de los venenos. Y eso, lo hizo sentir aún más solo.

Diez años después, Bin con un trabajo estable y departamento propio, se dio cuenta de que no importara cuanto se alejara e intentara engañarse a sí mismo, la única persona por la que podría dejar todo, era la única que incluso si suplicara, jamás le correspondería.

Es por eso que la silueta de Park Minhyuk apareció en las oficinas de Marketing junto al jefe Bam, él quiso esconderse en su oficina y llorar por horas, realmente pensó que lo había superado aunque sea un poco. Que tan equivocado se encontraba, cuando los latidos de su corazón revivieron luego de años en calma el calor de su cuerpo se hizo evidente, y sus subordinados parece que también lo notaron.

—Señor Moon, ¿se encuentra bien?

—Si, prepárense—casi que se lo dijo así mismo—Ahí viene el Sr. Bam.

En ese momento, el Sr. Bam acompañado de la figura pequeña de Park Minhyuk, apareció frente a él. Todos en la sala se pararon e hicieron una reverencia hacia el CEO, quien presentó al acompañante como colaborador para el proyecto artístico. Ese es el momento en el que sus ojos se encontraron, la mirada brillante con un rastro de sorpresa de Hyuk exalto al rubio quien solo pudo desviar la mirada hacia su jefe.

—Sr. Moon Bin, por favor cuide de Minhyuk—el presidente posó una mano sobre el pelinegro quien sonreía ocultando la decepción por la reacción de Bin—que su popularidad no lo engañe, es de los mejores artistas que he visto.

—No lo dudo—no lo pensó, las palabras se le escaparon y se arrepintió, el tono con el que lo dijo se sintió tan personal que una punzada de dolor lo atravesó. El Señor Bam se fue más rápido de lo que Bin deseo, y pronto Minhyuk, MoonBin y los subordinados se encontraban solos.

—Sigan trabajando en el proyecto, organizaré unos temas con el Sr. Park—ordenó Bin llevando a Hyuk fuera de la sala de reuniones—No holgazaneen.

El trayecto hacia la oficina de MoonBin fue silencioso, en realidad el rubio temía que si empezaba una conversación que está tornara una dirección que no podría soportar. Sabía que era el culpable de esta incomodidad, culpable de su propio sufrimiento.

Park Minhyuk quien era el único hijo de su padrastro, pelo y ojos negros, estatura mediana y hombros pequeños. Crecieron juntos, fueron a la escuela juntos, compartieron habitación por años y hasta que se fue de la casa, fueron mejores amigos. Minhyuk lo contacto cientos de veces; navidad, su cumpleaños, año nuevo o simplemente porque quería verlo, siempre dijo estar ocupado.

Moon Bin se refugió en el estudio, y ahora en el trabajo. Sin embargo, no importaba cuantos kilómetros hubiera de distancia, en el fondo, su cabeza rondaba sobre preguntas de Minhyuk. Y ahora muchas de ellas, estaban siendo respondidas. El cabello pelinegro estaba por los hombros totalmente alisado, sus expresiones eran más maduras, su figura se notaba tonificada y los jeans rotos con la remera negra le quedaban tan bien que lloraría.

—Lo siento, no sabia que estaba trabajando aquí—y como si lo hubieran golpeado con agua, la voz de Minhyuk lo saca de su trance. Minhyuk lo mira, no fijamente—Bin, ¿quieres que renuncie al proyecto? Estoy seguro…

—No tienes que disculparte, hyung—interrumpe rápidamente Bin y mueve sus brazos nerviosamente, se siente extraño—No hay razón para renunciar.

Es un segundo de silencio.

—¿No estás molesto?—cuestionó el pelinegro.

—¿Eh? ¿Por qué lo estaría?—Bin abre la puerta de su oficina manteniéndola para que entre su hyung quien agradeció con la cabeza. Cuando la puerta se cierra, repentinamente se sienten demasiado cerca.

—Bueno…—Minhyuk se rasca la nuca—no debe ser agradable tener que trabajar con alguien que odias.

Antes de que siquiera pudiera procesarlo.

—Es decir, no dudo que tú puedas soportar a cualquier persona sin importar que tanto lo odies, ya que eres un gran trabajador.

—Hyung, yo no te odio—Bin se acercó con el ceño fruncido—¿Quién te dijo algo así, hyung?

Minhyuk pestañeó un par de veces y respondió.

—Bin, tu me lo dijiste—el pelinegro retrocedió un paso ante el cuerpo enorme del menor ¿en qué momento creció tanto? sus hombros eran mucho más anchos y sin duda que aumento unos centímetros de altura—El día que me llamaste, en la madrugada, ¿lo recuerdas?

No, no lo recordaba, en absoluto. Estaba tan confundido que su cabeza empezaba a doler.

No importaba cuanto forzara su memoria, ningun recuerdo venía a su cabeza, incluso le costaba imaginarse a sí mismo diciéndole esas palabras a su hyung.

—Hyung, en serio, no te odio—a Bin le tembló la voz por el desespero.

—¿Es así? Es un alivio entonces—contestó el mayor sonriendo—, Ya que nunca quieres reunirte conmigo, tus palabras ya eran una explicación a tus acciones.

Moon Bin trago el nudo que se formaba en su garganta.

—Mis acciones no tienen nada que ver con esas palabras—Bin se alejó del mayor fingiendo que buscaba algo en su escritorio—Hyung es una persona que aprecio mucho.

Parecía que Minhyuk no escuchó la última frase ya que no hubo respuesta alguna. Luego de eso le dijo que se pusiera cómodo, y en sus carpetas Minhyuk fue sacando las propuestas que tenía para el proyecto; como era esperarse de su hyung, todo era maravilloso, desde pequeño que el pelinegro desarrolló sus habilidades con el dibujo y con un poco de recelo recuerda al Bin pequeño que constantemente le pedía que le regalara dibujos. El Moon Bin que acostumbraba apoyarse en su hyung, su diferencia era solo de un año, pero Minhyuk actuó como un hermano mayor a pesar de no tener una relación sanguínea. Quizás fue por eso que cuando descubrió sus sentimientos se aterró tanto, Park Minhyuk lo veía como un hermano.

Luego de terminar su jornada laboral, en la que no pudo concentrarse, Minhyuk lo invitó a comer pero dijo que ya tenía planes con Dongmin. Lo cual no era del todo mentira porque por más que ya no vivieran juntos, eran vecinos y Sanha, como dijo antes, era una pulga de la cual no podía deshacerse.

—¿Por qué estás tan deprimido, Hyung?

—No quiero hablar de eso—murmuró Bin contra la almohada del sofá.

Sanha suspiro malhumorado.

—Si vas a estar de malas repartiendo esas malas energías, vete a tu habitación a hundirte en tu propia miseria—Sanha lo estaba echando, de su propia casa.

—Y-a en serio, Bin—Dongmin vino dándole una palmadita en la cabeza—¿Qué pasa?

Moon Bin se incorporó con agotamiento en su cuerpo.

—Park Minhyuk, ese es mi problema.

Oh.

—Minhyuk hyung no es tu problema—contestó con los brazos cruzados Sanha, el defensor número uno del pelinegro—Tu problema es que te guste tu hermanastro.

—¡Ex-hermanastro!—exclamó Moon Bin. Porque sí, hace ya cuatro años que la madre de Bin y el Sr. Park se habían separado, aunque según había visto la última vez que fue a visitar a su madre estos seguían siendo igual de pegados. No cabía duda que fueron mejores amigos toda la vida y que incluso su separación romántica no podía romper su amistad, los envidiaba.

Dongmin y Sanha se quedaron toda la noche viendo películas mientras que Bin ni siquiera podía fingir que la estaba pasando mal, eventualmente se quedó dormido y cuando despertó la pareja ya no estaba ahí. Era de madrugada, el cielo estaba tapado de niebla y una leve llovizna golpeaba contra el ventanal del departamento, sentado en la silla de su cocina hundió su cabeza en sus manos. Se le salía el corazón, todos los años que aguanto se le venían abajo, tanto esfuerzo por mantener su vida en equilibrio, un ser con tanto poder en su vida lo derrumbaba todo. Se sentía mal, como si su cuerpo estuviera sosteniendo rocas, rocas pesadas que le quemaban.

Un ataque de tos lo golpeó con fuerza, puso su mano en su boca y con la otra agarró su garganta, ardía. Sus ojos fruncidos se abrieron enfocando la vista, la mesada cubierta de pétalos pequeños y lilas. Pensó que estaba alucinando sin embargo el tacto contra ellas era suave, eran reales. Pronto la tos volvió y con ellos mantuvo la mirada abierta, y si, lo que sospechaba. Los pétalos salían de su garganta.

✦

Moon Bin no fue a trabajar, los días estaban lluviosos, y cada día la tos estaba peor. Su cama era cómoda, sin embargo no llegaba a tapar el frío que sentía. Intentaba levantarse para mantener su cuerpo activo, era más difícil de lo que había supuesto, llegar a la cocina ahora era un verdadero triunfo.

Dongmin y Sanha, se ofrecieron a cuidarlo del resfriado que decía tener, no importaba cuanto lo pidieran, no los iba a dejar. Ya sabía que no era un resfriado común, lo averiguo, no era ni más ni menos que la enfermedad de Hanahaki producida por un amor no correspondido y que, hasta el día, no tenía cura. Estaba agotado, su pecho dolía de lo mucho que tosía y su cabeza no podía alejarse de los mechones negros, ya llevaba varios días ausentado al trabajo se preguntaba si Minhyuk seguía preparando diseños para el proyecto. Suspiro.

Espero que no se esté sobre exigiendo.

Minhyuk siempre era maravilloso, en los últimos años evitó analizar las cualidades del pelinegro sin embargo ahora era inevitable. Sus recuerdos más vividos eran de adolescentes; es decir, siempre se llevaron bien, siempre jugaron juntos y siempre fueron una familia, pero a partir de su preadolescencia fue diferente. Ellos no solo eran hermanastros, eran amigos, estudiaban juntos, veían películas juntos, se quejaban de sus padres y se escapaban de casa juntos. Y fue cuando sus sentimientos florecieron.

La primera vez que tomaron alcohol juntos eran realmente jóvenes, Moon Bin estaba por cumplir los diecisiete años y su hyung estaba a semanas de irse a la Universidad de Arte. Esa noche, con unos pocos tragos de alcohol en sangre, se dio cuenta lo mucho que le gustaba Minhyuk. No amor de familia, no, gustar gustar. Un amor que le cubría el pecho, y le hacía temblar las manos. Se sintió tan culpable, tan enfermo, que ni siquiera volvió a mirar a los ojos a su Hyung temiendo que notara sus sentimientos.

Fue una sorpresa para su familia la nueva actitud del joven Bin, evitaba a su hermanastro a toda costa, cuando venía de vacaciones de la universidad él se iba a la casa de sus amigos, cuando no podía ir a la casa de sus amigos fingía estar ocupado y se quedaba en su habitación. Todo el grupo familiar pensó que los hermanos inseparables se pelearon, y Minhyuk quien no entendía en absoluto como Bin se volvió tan arisco, tenía ganas de llorar; estaba claro que no era una fase de su adolescencia, Moon Bin lo estaba evitando sino como se explicaría que asistía a todas las reuniones familiares a las que él no iba.

Cuando comprendió que estaba siendo una molestia para Moon Bin, no dudó en darle su espacio. Intentó evitar ir a las fiestas de Navidad y Año nuevo, sin embargo la Señora Moon siempre insistía en que fuera, le daban ganar de vomitar de los nervios con la cara de disgusto de Bin. Se sentía terrible.

Y fue peor cuando se enteró de que Moon Bin se había ido de la casa, fue su padre quien llamó pero sabía que la pregunta que le hizo fue por los sollozos de la Señora Moon.

—Hyuk, ¿realmente te peleaste con Bin?

Sabía que no, sin embargo las acciones de su hermanastro eran tan extrañas que le hacían doler el corazón.

Para las siguientes vacaciones, el cuerpo de Hyuk estaba cansado solo de pensar en ir a casa. Sin embargo fue a pedido de su padre. En esas vacaciones fue que se enteró que se separaron, y Hyuk realmente se sintió como un hijo de padres divorciados, ellos que siempre se habían querido tanto… No podía entenderlo. La respuesta de su padre fue pues eso mismo tendría que decir yo de Bin y tú. La señora Moon y su padre se rieron y trataron como siempre, y eso fue un alivio.

Cuando pasó por la habitación antigua de Bin sintió el vacío de la casa, era indiscutible que su presencia era añorable. ¿Hace cuanto que el rubio no venía a ver a su madre? Probablemente, meses y… era su culpa.

Antes de que una gota se derramara, la señora Moon lo encontró parado en el pasillo con una expresión tan deplorable que le dio vergüenza la rapidez con la fue abrazado.

—Lo siento tanto, en serio—los mocos no le dejaron hablar—no sé, no sé que le hice.

Con una sonrisa y acariciando su espalda.

—Bin te quiere tanto que no sabe cómo expresarlo.

Esas fueron las palabras de la Señora Moon sin embargo parecían tan equivocadas la noche que Minhyuk llegó a su casa luego de una larga exposición en uno de los museos de Seúl. Su casa era pequeña pero suficiente, tenía una buena vista para inspirarse y a diferencia de la mayoría, no tenía ruidos urbanos. Es por eso que el tono del celular lo sorprendió tanto, contestó impactado por el nombre en la pantalla. En los primeros segundos nadie contestó.

—¿Hola?

—Hyung, realmente odio que seas mi hermano.

La voz inconfundible de Moon Bin se escuchó, y Minhyuk sentía que se quedaba sin aire.

El pelinegro recuerda esa noche muy vivida. Y aunque Moon Bin le negó sus propias palabras hace solo unos días, no era normal que desapareciera en el momento exacto en el que se encuentran, irritado por la situación Minhyuk va a enfrentarlo. Si Moon Bin se niega a volver al trabajo, entonces él tendrá que ir a su casa.

En cuanto llegó a la puerta del departamento con un poquito de ayuda de Sanha—quien volvió con Dongmin luego de abrirle la puerta del edificio—, tocó la puerta, nadie respondió. Siguió insistiendo, pensó que la puerta se caería de lo fuerte que estaba golpeando sin embargo cuando se le ocurrió la probabilidad de que el menor no estuviera en casa Moon Bin apareció frente a él, pálido, el pelo caído y ojeras negras por debajo de los ojos. Fue tan diferente a la imagen que tuvo de él la última vez que incluso dudo que este fuera el propio Bin.

—¿Minhyuk?—sintió que le secaba la garganta—¿Qué haces-?

Inmediatamente una contracción en su abdomen se hizo presente y su cuerpo flaqueo haciéndolo terminar en cuclillas mientras tosía fuertemente. El pelinegro se arrodilló junto a Bin apoyando su mano en la espalda y cerrando la puerta en el camino. Pronto los pétalos salieron por su boca y aunque intentó tapar su boca, fue muy tarde.

—¿Hanahaki?—preguntó el pelinegro, no necesitaba una respuesta, sabía lo que era. La enfermedad del amor no correspondido, no le pareció ver raro a alguien con esta enfermedad, le pareció raro que Moon Bin la tuviera—Llamaré una ambulancia, espera.

—No, hyung—el menor agarró su muñeca deteniéndolo—en serio, no te preocupes. ¿Viniste por algo del proyecto?

Moon Bin con una fuerza interior que sacó de la vergüenza que le daba mostrarse así frente a su hyung.

—¿Qué? Vine porque estaba preocupado—explico el pelinegro—faltaste muchos días al trabajo.

Moon Bin se apoyó en el sofá sabiendo que no podría durar mucho parado.

—No hay porqué preocuparse, hyung—sonrió.

—Moon Bin, ¿me estás malditamente jodiendo?—fue la primera vez que escucho a su Hyung maldecir de esa manera—Tienes hanahaki.

—Lo sé, hyung.

A pasos duros MInhyuk se acercó al sofá, arrodillándose en el piso y enfocando su mirada en el rubio.

—Dime quien es—fuerte y claro, y Bin sintio que iba a empezar a paniquear.

—¿Qué? Hyung, no vale la pena, en serio.

Minhyuk frunció las cejas y agarró la mano del rubio.

—Sea quien sea, le haré entender lo que se está perdiendo por no salir con alguien como tú.

La mirada del menor se oscureció.

—¿Quién sea, hyung? ¿En serio?—la voz se profundizó y Hyuk asintió con seguridad—¿Incluso si eres tú?

Minhyuk asintió un poco confundido.

—Claro, lo haré, sea quien sea.

Moon Bin lo miro como si fuera un tonto, porque realmente lo estaba pesando. Con un suspiro, seguido de una risa amarga se alejó de la mano de su Hyung para agarrar sus pelos entre los dedos de sus manos.

—Hyung, ¿eres estúpido?

Minhyuk no quiso parecerlo aunque no entendía por qué repentinamente lo estaban insultando, aunque rápidamente tuvo una conclusión.

—Oh…—el pelinegro bajó la mirada y asintió hacia sí mismo, apretando sus labios abrazo a Bin—Debió ser muy difícil… No sé cómo aguantaste para convivir tanto con la pareja de Dongmin si tanto te gustaba.

Moon Bin agarró de los hombros a su hyung como si fuera veneno, y se paró de su lugar con una repulsión que Minhyuk no pudo entender hasta que las palabras retumbaron en el departamento.

—¡No es Dongmin quien, Dios Hyung!—la rabia consumía al menor—¡Eres tú, hyung, tú me gustas!

Volvió a tirarse en el sofá con tanta vergüenza que ocultó su cara entre sus palmas.

—oh…—fue lo único que escucho venir del mayor, y sentía que el mundo se le venía abajo, la tos se hizo presente con sus pétalos ya característicos. Unas cuantas lágrimas acompañaron y nuevamente su Hyung estaba tocando su espalda, su toque quemaba pero ya no tenía corazón para alejarse—Bin, hay algo que quiero preguntarte.

La voz fue suave y golpeó contra su oído como un cariño.

—Dime Hyung.

Fueron unos segundos de silencio en los que Minhyuk pensó en cómo decirlo.

—¿Yo cuando te rechace?

—Hyung nunca me consideró una opción, no había necesidad de preguntarlo para saber su respuesta—contesto entrecortadamente.

—No supongas por tu mismo, quiero que me lo preguntes—pidió de manera firme el mayor, lo único que se le ocurrió al rubio fue pensar en cuanto más quería avergonzarlo, no sacó su cabeza de sus manos y se quedó hasta ahí hasta que las manos del mayor agarraron su cabeza levantándola, los dedos de su hyung apretaron en las mejillas mientras que tenían una distancia mínima entre ellos—No vuelvas a suponer.

Los labios de Minhyuk lo atacaron, eran suaves y los primeros segundos Bin pensó que había muerto, que era solo un sueño luego del fin. No lo era, llevó su agarre a la cintura del pelinegro, el corazón golpeando contra su pecho, la piel entre sus dedos, era demasiado real.

—Hyung…—separaron sus labios con sus respiraciones agitadas—Yo, me gustas mucho, en serio.

Minhyuk río.

—A mí también me gustas mucho—beso la mejilla del otro—Y por si estás suponiendo cosas raras, esto no es un rechazo.

Moon Bin sintió que el peso en su pecho se aliviaba.

Tags

fanfic astro rocky eunwoo moon bin yoon sanha park minhyuk lee dongmin binhyuk rockbin

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prttylight

2 years ago

I want star wars mutuals 😭😭😭

Tags

star wars anakin skywalker kylo ren leia organa padme amidala leia skywalker ben solo leia star wars

3 notes View Post

prttylight

3 weeks ago

Too Vanilla | FC43

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: Franco is very open about his past sex life - maybe a bit too much for you, which eventually makes you insecure.

Author's Note: this is super short but i got the inspo after seeing a small extract of franco on the nude project (i then proceeded to watch the entire thing even tho i barely speak spanish lol) and yeah, I'll say more in the end notes lol but iykyk😭

F1 MASTERLIST🏎

“You’re quiet tonight”, Franco pointed out. “More than usual.”

Shit, was the only word now echoing in your mind. You didn’t think you had been that quiet. Franco and you were having a peaceful night in, cuddling in bed while watching some stupid show whose laughing track was way funnier than the actual jokes.

“Just enjoying the time with you, that’s all.”

Franco knew better. He knew from the way his arms were around you, your hands on your lap and not holding his like you usually did. He knew from the way your body wasn’t entirely relaxed against his.

He just knew you.

“I kinda wanna call bullshit on that, I know you’re lying. Or at least hiding something,” he clarified.

“And what would I be hiding?”

“I don’t know”, he admitted.

And that was it. You both stayed silent for several minutes after the exchange. But now that it was out there, you could feel Franco’s eyes on you. And with the way that he was now holding one of your hands in his, his thumb gently stroking your skin? It was just a matter of time before you were spilling whatever secret you were hiding. Which you did, when you felt him hugging you a bit tighter from where he was sitting behind you.

“It’s about the videos”, you eventually blurted out.

“The videos?” Franco repeated.

“That one video where you did the put a finger down thing”, you explained. “And the most recent podcast.”

“What about those?” He asked, slightly straightening up, before muting the TV.

“Well, you talked about having had sex in a car before, and the podcast…”

“Did I say something wrong in the podcast?”

“It’s not something you said, it’s just how I felt about it.”

“Okay.” Franco nodded, still a bit confused. “Please communicate with me, how did that make you feel?”

“You were talking about pre-race sex somehow helping with your performance, because it was like– relaxing. You also mentioned that having sex on the first date was more than fine for you... And then, I got insecure about it.”

“You got insecure because I’ve been whoring around?” There were certainly better ways to form the question, but at least Franco was trying his best. “You know it all happened before we got together, yeah? I haven’t done that in a while.”

“And that’s the issue!” You exclaimed as you shifted a bit away from him, your side profile now facing him.

“What? You’re saying you’d want me to do those things again?” Safe to say, he was lost. “I'm not sure I get it, what’s the real issue regarding us?”

“The sex, Franco!” You had raised your voice a bit, immediately regretting it. You moved again to sit cross-legged, now actually facing him. “Or more like the lack of it.”

“And that’s the issue because…?” He encouraged you to keep going, still not getting your point.

“Because I’m not having sex with you?” You tried to make him understand. “Because I will probably never have sex with you? Because everything between us is just too vanilla – even more than a middle schoolers’ relationship?”

You expected any reaction from Franco, literally anything. Except him laughing. But that’s what he was doing right now. He had just bursted out laughing.

But you weren’t laughing, far from it. You were just looking at him, widened eyes at his reaction.

“Oh my… oh God…” Franco did his best to calm down, slowly breathing in and out to stop laughing. “Since when is the lack of sex in our relationship an issue? You never brought this up before.”

“I mean, we did talk about it when we got together.”

“But still, I thought we were on the same wavelength? Why is this so important to you all of a sudden?”

“It’s not like– important…”

“Kinda seems like it is”, Franco interrupted.

“Okay, maybe it is. But it’s just that– like– yes, we had agreed that it wasn’t necessary between us… but just watching the podcast and seeing you talk about it, seeing people comment on it–”

“Fuck the comments.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t be paying attention to them…” You admitted. “But I just got in my head, and then I started overthinking…”

“And you thought that us not having sex had become a problem for me? Without asking me what my actual opinion was?”

“Bingo,” you confirmed with a dry laugh.

The silence settled once again between the two of you, but it wasn’t as heavy as earlier. Franco took your hands in his, squeezing them in reassurance.

“How much of the podcast did you watch?” He eventually asked.

“The segment of you talking about pre-race sex, obviously.” You rolled your eyes at him as your voice was full of sarcasm. "And the sex-on-the-first-date moment.

“But did you watch what I said after?”

“Yeah, a bit.” You tried to recall how long the extract had been. “The whole thing wasn’t entirely subbed so I didn’t actually watch everything but–”

“So you remember what I talked about after that?” Franco waited for you to nod before he continued. “About the difficulty of creating real bonds with people, finding a connection, something that matters… That’s you”, he claimed. “You’re the person with who I share an actual bond. The person who I know is here for me, who loves me, and who I love back. What’s between us is precious, something I wanna cherish and care for until you’ll stop having me.”

“I’ll never stop, though.” You tried to avoid Franco’s gaze, ashamed of having doubted his feelings.

“Well, I hope so.” Franco squeezed your hands once again, before he let go of them to cup your face and wipe your cheeks. “You shouldn’t be crying because of me.”

“Bro”, you said with a deadpan tone. “You’re out there declaring your love for me and I’m not supposed to cry?”

“When you say it like that…”

He laughed. But this time, you enjoyed hearing it. And it made you laugh too.

The situation shouldn’t have been a laughing matter – not for most people – but still, you were laughing together. Then, Franco leaned in, his hands still on your cheeks. You leaned towards him as well, and he closed the space between you to kiss you.

For every insecurity you would ever have, Franco would be there to appease them. And for every dumb insecurity like this one, Franco would just have to remind you that the ‘vanilla’ relationship between the two of you was worth so much more than any pre-race sex he could ever have. And maybe he would also remind you that despite not having sex, the make out sessions between you two were sometimes far from being vanilla.

..........

Ok so this one's a bit more personal than others (not counting that one logan fic in which i poured my heart lol)

Ik there's this franco persona we all see as being the epitome of no pr training bc bro is sharing loads of private stuff - and it ain't even that deep tbh like he's just a guy🎀 (btw i did watch the entire pod which was super interesting bc i didn't know that much ab franco before f2 so i recommend!!)

But yeah, this one's for my ace girlies out there who, like me, might think that it's impossible to find love bc most people will expect sex in a relationship💜

This was just a short n' sweet fic that i thought went well w franco (who's the green flag we all need in our lives) - mostly written for my own mental health bc i needed some self love & reassurance🤍

Thanks for reading<3 I'll see you soon, take care of yourselves, i love y'all xx

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prttylight

4 months ago

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prttylight

7 months ago

gosh these days im so in love with charles xavier

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prttylight

5 months ago

i am always waiting for this fic AND IM HAVING THE DRAMA AND KISSES I NEEDED

Gotta Be You - Charles Leclerc (THREE)

masterlist | promptlist | previous part

Here is part three! And I'm honestly so proud of this chapter! I think it turned out awesome lol <3

↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!gasly!reader ↳word count: 5K ↳warnings: awkward encounters, truth or dare (trust me lol) , jealousy, alcohol, drinking games, talking about feelings ↳side info: friends to enemies to lovers, reader is Pierre's younger sister, reader is Arthur LeClerc's childhood best friend, Charles is her former crush, Charles is a jealous ass sometimes, age gap between reader and Charles (5 years) ↳summary: In which you go on a shared holiday with both your and your brother's friend group, forced to be confronted with your former teenage crush Charles LeClerc yet again. The only problem is? You can't stand him nowadays, until you suddenly can.

*a few days later*

As you stood in the bathroom, tying your hair into a ponytail, the familiar scent of the devil himself filled the small space. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Charles had a way of entering a room without saying a word but still commanding all the air in it. He closed the distance between you two, silently taking his place by the sink next to you, reaching into the cupboard for his hair products.

You bit back a groan, focusing on your reflection. There was nothing inherently wrong with him being there—but him standing this close stirred feelings you desperately wanted to push aside. His presence was overwhelming, in that maddening, familiar way.

Your usual coping mechanism kicked in: sarcasm, sharp enough to keep him at arm’s length.

"Fixing your hair won’t fix your attitude, you know that, right?" you sassed, not entirely sure why you felt the need to say anything.

Charles scoffed, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. His gaze was intense, steady—always knowing too much. "There’s no attitude that needs fixing," he huffed, washing his hands and drying them on the towel with deliberate slowness. "Besides, some people actually put effort into how they present themselves..."

Your head snapped toward him. "Is this your not-so-subtle way of saying I look like shit?"

He rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Are you honestly this delusional?"

You threw your hands in the air. "Well, apparently, I am! Because that insult was completely unnecessary." You crossed your arms, leaning back against the sink with a challenging glare.

Charles shrugged, unfazed. "First of all, you started it. I didn’t do anything until you found it necessary to attack me." His voice lowered slightly, holding that aggravating calmness. "And besides… you and I both know that wasn’t an insult."

You narrowed your eyes. "How was it not an insult? You basically said I don’t put effort into how I look."

He inched closer, his movements slow and deliberate. Before you could register what was happening, his hands were on either side of you, gripping the edge of the sink. His chest hovered just inches from yours, effectively trapping you in place. His cologne wrapped around you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched as his gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips before snapping back, locking onto yours like he was daring you to look away.

"Chérie, don’t act like you’re unaware that I think you’re hot," he whispered, voice low and rough. "You don’t need the effort."

Your heart thudded violently in your chest. For a split second, your gaze dropped to his lips—damn it. Realizing your mistake, you forced your eyes away, breathing through the sudden rush of heat.

You steeled yourself and met his gaze again. "Charles, quit playing games and get out of my face," you said through clenched teeth, though your voice wavered ever so slightly.

His eyes swept over you one last time, lingering on how you were still pressed against the sink, tension radiating between you like a live wire. His jaw clenched.

What the hell is he thinking?

Charles shifted back slightly, but something held him there, still too close for comfort. He exhaled sharply, as if wrestling with himself.

"What changed?" he asked quietly, voice strained.

Your brows furrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He sighed, shoulders tense. "What did I do that made you hate me so much?" His voice softened, tinged with something dangerously close to regret. "What changed?"

Before you could answer—or even begin to process what to say—someone cleared their throat at the doorway.

Charles jumped back like he’d been burned, stumbling a step before retreating to sit on the edge of the bathtub, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. You turned your head sharply, locking eyes with Arthur, who stood leaning against the doorframe with a massive, knowing grin.

"I came to ask if you’re ready for game night," Arthur said casually, though his smirk betrayed every innocent intention.

You let out a slow, steadying breath, forcing yourself to relax. "Yeah, coming," you muttered, pushing off the sink and brushing past him.

But before you crossed the threshold, something tugged at you. You rested your hand on the doorframe, glancing back at Charles. His head lifted, eyes locking onto yours with a silent intensity.

"As for what changed?" you said quietly, voice sharper than you intended. "The fact that you have no idea says enough, Charles."

With that, you walked out, catching up to Arthur as he fell into step beside you, still grinning like an idiot.

He glanced sideways at you, suppressing a laugh. "You two really have a thing for getting caught in bathrooms together, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "Don’t start."

Arthur chuckled. "Well, let’s just say... I did put my money on you two hooking up this holiday, but I didn’t expect you to get that intimate that fast."

"First of all, nothing happened," you snapped, face heating. "And second, it wasn’t what it looked like."

"That’s what they all say," Arthur teased. "But to me, it looked like my brother had you pinned against the sink pretty damn convincingly."

You groaned. "He did not have me pinned—"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Because you being pressed against the sink while he boxed you in with his hands definitely looked like pinning from where I was standing."

"Fine," you admitted, throwing your hands up. "It looked exactly like that, but it was not for the reason you so desperately hope it was. So shut your mouth before I call your mom and tell her what happened to her couch." you said, referring to the time you caught Arthur and his former girlfriend having sex on his mom's new couch.

Arthur’s grin dropped instantly, his hands shooting up in mock surrender. "Alright, relax, no need for threats!" he laughed, shaking his head as the two of you headed downstairs.

As you and Arthur walked into the living room, you couldn’t help but laugh at his teasing, shaking your head in mock exasperation.

"I’m still putting my money on it, though," Arthur added with a mischievous grin, his voice light but teasing.

Before you could respond, Dennis looked up from where he was lounging on the couch, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Putting your money on what?"

Arthur didn’t miss a beat. "That she’ll hook up with Charles before the end of this trip," he declared confidently, shooting you a knowing smirk.

Dennis let out a deep chuckle, sitting up straighter. "Oh, definitely. There’s no doubt in that," he agreed, his tone playfully conspiratorial.

You groaned dramatically, throwing your hands in the air. "Seriously? You’re both delusional."

Arthur shrugged. "Just calling it like we see it. The tension could be cut with a knife."

Dennis nodded sagely, as if offering expert commentary. "It’s practically inevitable."

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a pillow from the nearest couch and tossed it at Dennis, who dodged it with practiced ease, laughing.

"You two are ridiculous," you muttered, fighting back a smile as they continued to exchange amused glances like co-conspirators.

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Tonight, the sky outside was pitch black, the faint sound of waves crashing in the distance as the group gathered in the living room. Sprawled across the plush couches, each of you with a drink in hand, the night carried an air of relaxed intimacy. The warm light of the room and the subtle buzz of alcohol created the perfect atmosphere for a game that was bound to stir up some chaos.

It was Inès who first suggested it, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she leaned forward, waving her drink for emphasis. “Okay,” she announced, her grin widening. “Let’s play ‘Never Have I Ever.’”

There was a mix of groans and laughs, but no one protested. As the alcohol worked its magic, the group quickly fell into the rhythm of the game, starting with tame questions.

“Alright,” Inès began, her tone playful. “Never have I ever made out at work.”

A beat of silence followed before all the boys raised their glasses almost simultaneously, their movements earning a round of laughter.

“I should’ve guessed,” you said, shaking your head as they took their sips.

The game continued, the questions growing more personal but still lighthearted. Dennis asked if anyone had ever called in sick to work when they weren’t actually sick, which prompted a unanimous drink from nearly everyone. Joris, with his usual antics, asked if anyone had ever gotten so drunk they couldn’t remember anything, earning another flurry of laughter as most of the group took a sip.

Then Kika piped up, her eyes sparkling as she leaned back against Pierre with a devilish grin. “Okay, my turn,” she announced, her voice dripping with amusement. “Never have I ever made out with my brother’s or sister’s best friend.”

The room broke into a chorus of gasps and giggles as everyone’s eyes darted around, scanning for raised glasses other than the obvious ones. Pierre groaned, shaking his head with a laugh as he lifted his drink and took a sip.

“You just want to get your boyfriend drunk, don't you?” Dennis teased Kika, his grin widening as he, too, raised his glass and took a sip.

Kika laughed, and looked at Pierre, who shot Dennis a playful smirk. “You did too, I see?”

Dennis chuckled, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah, can't deny that.”

Kika raised an eyebrow, her gaze flitting around the room. “Alright, anyone else want to confess?”

You stayed silent, hiding your smirk behind the rim of your glass as you watched the game unfold. The question might not have been directed at you specifically, but the implications swirling around the room were impossible to ignore, clearly an indirect question to see if you actually ever made out with Charles, which bummer to them, you didn't.

The game was already proving to be far more chaotic than you’d anticipated. The group sat sprawled out on the plush couches in the villa’s living room, drinks in hand and laughter filling the air. You’d already survived a few rounds of lighthearted questions—some borderline embarrassing—but when Dennis sat forward, his mischievous grin spelled trouble.

“Okay,” Dennis announced, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Y’all ask boring questions. Let’s spice this up.” He took a dramatic pause, letting the tension build before smirking. “Never have I ever gotten off to the thought of someone in this room… since we arrived here.”

A ripple of laughter broke out immediately. Kika, sitting snugly next to Pierre, was the first to respond, raising her glass with a playful roll of her eyes. “Well, I think I better drink, because let’s be honest—no one would believe me if I said no, considering my boyfriend is literally right here.”

Pierre nudged her with a grin, clearly unbothered by her admission as he sipped from his own glass. “As if the feeling isn’t mutual,” he teased, earning another round of laughter.

Across the room, Gigi tried to be subtle, lifting her glass for a quick sip, but Dennis’ sharp eyes caught her immediately. “Oh, I saw that, Gi!” he exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Gigi flushed crimson, glaring at him. “Shut up, Dennis,” she shot back, though the laughter in her voice betrayed her. “Don’t turn all the attention on me. I’m not the only one who drank!” She gestured toward a few others who had lifted their glasses.

“Oh, I’m not pretending I didn’t,” Dennis said casually, raising his glass again for emphasis. “Because I have zero shame” His eyes flicked toward you for the briefest moment, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, silently hoping to stay under the radar. But your attempt at blending into the background only seemed to make you more conspicuous.

“Don’t act all shy now, Gasly,” Dennis teased, his tone smug. His eyes locked on you as he leaned forward. “I saw you take a sip. Don’t think I didn’t notice that. Care to enlighten us who the lucky one is?”

Your cheeks burned as every pair of eyes turned toward you. You scrambled to think of a response, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, you forced a laugh, raising an eyebrow at Dennis. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you quipped, your voice surprisingly steady despite the heat in your face.

The group erupted into a mix of laughter and teasing comments, but before the attention could shift completely, Arthur piped up from where he was seated beside Charles.

“Alright, alright,” Arthur said, his grin widening as he leaned forward. “We’ve all been so focused on you three, but is no one going to mention the fact that two other people drank as well?” His eyes darted pointedly toward Charles and Joris, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Hmm, I wonder who those drinks were about.”

Charles stiffened slightly beside him, his jaw tightening as he tried to play it cool. “Don’t drag me into this,” he muttered, taking another sip of his drink as if to distract himself.

“Too late, mate,” Arthur shot back with a grin, nudging his brother’s shoulder. “You drank. That means you’ve got to own up to it.”

Joris, ever the instigator, leaned back with a smug grin of his own. “Yeah, Charles, don’t be shy. Who’s the lucky one, huh?”

Charles rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch and trying to appear nonchalant. “Not a chance,” he said simply, though the tips of his ears betrayed a faint redness.

You couldn’t help but glance at him briefly, your curiosity piqued. Did he…? No, there was no way. You quickly shoved the thought aside, but the idea lingered annoyingly in the back of your mind.

Meanwhile, Charles’ thoughts were anything but composed. When you’d taken a sip earlier, his stomach had twisted uncomfortably. At first, he’d assumed it was Dennis—the way Dennis was always teasing you, always so close—but then another thought crept in, one that made his pulse quicken. What if it wasn’t Dennis?

The idea of it being about him sent a conflicting mix of emotions surging through him—hope, doubt, and an overwhelming sense of confusion. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Joris’ subtle kick to his shin until it made contact.

“Stop staring,” Joris whispered, smirking at his friend. “You’re making it obvious.”

Charles snapped out of his reverie, glaring at Joris. “Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, shifting in his seat.

Arthur, ever the opportunist, caught the exchange and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this now?” he asked, clearly amused. “Charles getting a little distracted?”

“Leave him alone,” Joris said with a grin, though his tone was far from serious. “Poor guy’s got enough on his plate already.”

“Oh, definitely not, he's pestered me long enough about things, payback time” Arthur said, his laugh echoing over the group’s chatter as Charles groaned, clearly regretting his choice to participate

The laughter hadn’t fully settled when Paul leaned forward with a mischievous grin, his drink loosely dangling in one hand. He glanced between you and Charles, his tone teasing as he spoke.

“So, Y/n, didn’t you mention something about the walls here being thin?” Paul asked, clearly enjoying the tension he was stirring. “Hope Charles has been a quiet neighbor. Otherwise, you probably heard everything. Poor Y/n.”

The room erupted into laughter, Dennis and Arthur practically doubling over. Kika smirked, nudging Pierre, who groaned, already sensing where the conversation was heading.

Charles narrowed his eyes at Paul, his jaw tightening slightly before he forced a smirk onto his face. “I’m not a complete idiot, you know,” he shot back. “If I had to… handle things, I’d make sure no one heard a damn thing. Either that or I’d do it somewhere more private.”

The laughter grew louder, Dennis nearly choking on his drink. “Good to know you’ve got a strategy, mate,” he teased, wiping his mouth.

You couldn’t help but feel heat creeping up your neck at the implication. The idea of Charles trying to stay quiet, and worse, the thought of actually overhearing him, made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t want to unpack. Not that you’d ever admit it.

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t hear anything,” you retorted, forcing a grin to hide your flustered state. “Because if I did, I’d probably have hearing damage.”

Charles turned to you, his smirk sharpening as he shot back, “As if I’d want to get off with you right outside my room.”

The room went silent for half a beat before Dennis, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned forward with a wicked grin. “No,” he said, drawing out the word for effect. “Because you’d prefer her in the room, wouldn’t you?”

The laughter that followed was deafening. Dennis clinked his glass with Paul’s, who was shaking his head but laughing just as hard. Charles, on the other hand, turned beet red, his face almost matching the color of his drink.

You weren’t any better, your face burning as you buried it in your hands. “Dennis, I swear to God,” you muttered, though your voice was muffled by the roar of the group.

Pierre groaned, his expression one of pure disgust as he rubbed his temples. “Okay, are you done? Because we are so not dragging my baby sister into Charles’ dirty fantasies.”

Arthur, always ready to escalate things, grinned and leaned back in his chair. “We don’t have to drag her into anything, Pierre,” he joked. “Charles probably already does that himself.”

The laughter doubled, filling the room with chaos as you and Charles sat frozen in mortification. Kika had tears streaming down her face from laughing, while Joris clapped a hand on Charles’ shoulder, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Pierre glared at the group, clearly over it. “I don’t even want to know,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Can we just move on before I lose my mind?”

The group slowly settled, though the smirks and giggles lingered as someone suggested the next round of the game. But despite the conversation moving on, you couldn’t help but feel Charles’ gaze flick toward you now and then, and you hated how much your heart raced when it did.

Meanwhile, Charles couldn’t stop replaying Dennis’ comment in his head. The idea of you in his room—or worse, of you thinking about him in that way—had lodged itself in his mind, refusing to budge. He shook his head, trying to focus on the game, but it was no use.

Neither of you wanted to admit it, but the seed of thought had been planted, and it was impossible to ignore.

The game moved on, the attention shifting away from Charles and you for the moment, but the tension hung in the air like a spark waiting to ignite. Charles stole another glance at you, his thoughts still tangled in the what-ifs. And as for you? You couldn’t help but wonder if you were indeed the one that had made him drink in the first place.

It was Joris who leaned forward next, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Alright, never have I ever kissed my best friend.”

The room buzzed with anticipation as everyone exchanged curious glances. Inès was the first to raise her glass and take a drink, earning a few cheers and teasing remarks. But it was the way both you and Arthur looked at each other, simultaneously bursting into laughter, that drew all the attention. Without hesitation, the two of you clinked your glasses together dramatically and downed your drinks in one go.

Charles raised an eyebrow, his perplexed expression giving him away. “Wait—you and Y/n kissed?” he asked, his gaze flicking between the two of you, his tone tinged with disbelief.

Arthur let out a laugh, leaning back casually. “Jealous much?” he shot back, his grin widening when he saw the flicker of annoyance cross Charles’ face.

Charles opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur cut him off with a chuckle. “Relax, I’m just kidding.”

Despite his brother’s reassurance, Charles still looked a little dumbfounded, his confusion—and something else he wouldn’t name—lingering. Kika, always one to stir the pot, leaned forward with a smirk. “Okay, I’m curious now. What’s the story?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you waved a hand dismissively. “There’s not much of a story, honestly. Happened a few times. We were both hopeless and single, and we figured, why not? It was just for fun. Turns out we were terrible at it.”

Arthur nodded in agreement, still grinning. “Massive failure. Zero chemistry. The kiss sucked, and we both agreed never to try again.”

“And the other times?” Kika pressed, her curiosity clearly piqued.

“Oh, just Truth or Dare,” you replied with a shrug. “Happened once or twice when we were younger. Nothing serious. More like a punishment than a kiss, honestly.”

The room erupted into laughter, with Inès nearly choking on her drink as she laughed the hardest. “I can so picture your disgusted faces,” she managed between giggles.

As the laughter died down, Inès perked up, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Speaking of Truth or Dare,” she said, her grin widening, “we should switch to that. Way more interesting than this.”

The group exchanged glances, a ripple of excitement building at the prospect of what chaos Truth or Dare might bring. You couldn’t help but glance at Charles, whose expression was still unreadable, though his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long before he looked away. Whatever this next game would bring, you had a feeling it wasn’t going to get any less intense.

The questions escalated slowly, moving from tame confessions to more suggestive dares. Someone dared Dennis to prank call his ex, which he executed flawlessly, much to everyone’s amusement. Gigi had to show the last text she sent to Joris, blushing furiously as everyone gathered around to read it. Pierre, naturally, had been dared to whisper something filthy to Kika, who doubled over laughing and refused to tell anyone what he’d said.

Then it was Paul’s turn, and his eyes gleamed as he scanned the room, finally landing on you. “Y/n,” he called out with a grin. “Truth or dare?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Dare.”

Paul’s grin widened, and the others leaned in, already sensing mischief. “I dare you to kiss Charles.”

The room went dead silent, every eye darting toward you.

You froze for a beat before scoffing loudly. “God, no”

“Oh, come on,” Dennis teased, smirking at you. “A dare is a dare”

“No, ew!” you shot back, shaking your head emphatically. “Anyone else in the world rather than him. I’d rather stick my tongue inside a trash can than kiss him.”

The tension seemed to settle, the group already laughing at your dramatic protests, until Charles’ voice cut through. Low, clipped, and tinged with something that sounded like a challenge.

“That’s not what you told me when you were sixteen.”

The room froze. Even the laughter died instantly.

You stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned, your pulse roaring in your ears. His words hit like a slap, and you could see the regret flicker in his eyes almost immediately.

“That was a low blow, Charles,” Arthur muttered, shaking his head in disapproval.

Pierre leaned back with a grimace, gesturing to the group. “Guess it’s better to call this game quits, non?”

But you weren’t about to let it go. Swallowing the knot of hurt lodged in your throat, you stood, fixing your gaze on your brother. “No need to,” you said firmly. “Dennis is right, a dare is a dare.”

The group exchanged glances, unsure of what was about to happen, but you didn’t stop. The anger bubbling inside you had morphed into something else—something that demanded revenge.

You marched over to where Charles sat, his eyes widening as you closed the distance. Without a word, you reached down, lifting his chin with your thumb, forcing him to look at you.

His breath hitched, his lips parting slightly, but before he could speak, you crushed your mouth against his.

The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was heated, full of anger and defiance. His lips were warm and soft against yours, but the sharp inhale he took before his hands moved to your waist betrayed how caught off guard he was.

Charles froze for a split second, his mind scrambling to process what was happening. But when your tongue brushed against his lips, seeking entrance, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

A low, guttural sound escaped his throat as he kissed you back with equal fervor, his hand sliding behind your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His pulse was racing, heat surging through his veins, and he struggled to keep himself in check.

Your hands slid down his chest, slow and deliberate, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. You knew exactly what you were doing as your palm settled over the bulge in his jeans, giving it a playful squeeze.

He let out a strangled sound, his body reacting instinctively, and you pulled back just enough to whisper, “I might’ve had a crush on you back when I was too delusional to see you for who you really are, but at least I’m not the one sitting here, a 27-year-old guy, getting hard because he had to kiss his best friend’s baby sister during a game.”

The room erupted. Dennis and Joris were practically howling with laughter, clapping each other on the back. Gigi and Kika exchanged wide-eyed glances before bursting into giggles. Even Arthur had his head in his hands, laughing despite himself.

Charles, on the other hand, looked utterly mortified. His face was beet red, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words that wouldn’t come.

“Poor Charles,” Dennis teased, grinning wickedly. “Bet that wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.”

Another wave of laughter erupted, leaving Charles sitting in stunned silence. Finally, Charles downed the rest of his drink in one go, standing abruptly. “I need air,” he muttered before making his way out of the room and into the garden.

He pushed open the glass doors that led to the terrace, the cool night air hitting his flushed face like a balm. The stars glittered overhead, but he barely noticed them as he sank into one of the patio chairs, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

His heart was still pounding in his chest, his mind replaying the kiss over and over. He could still feel the ghost of your lips on his, the way your hand had trailed down his chest, resting on him with enough boldness to completely disarm him. And your words—sharp, cutting, and delivered with such venom—they were like a slap in the face.

He groaned softly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. What the hell had he been thinking, making that comment about you at sixteen? He’d known it was cruel the second the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t stop himself. His insecurities, his regret, his jealousy—it all spilled out in the worst way possible.

The sound of the sliding door opening made him glance up. Arthur stepped out, holding two fresh beers in his hands. Without a word, he handed one to Charles and took the seat next to him.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sounds the distant crash of waves and the faint hum of cicadas. Finally, Arthur broke the quiet.

“You’re a dickhead,” he said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his beer.

Charles let out a humorless laugh, nodding slightly. “I know.”

Arthur turned to him, his expression softening slightly. “That comment, mate—it was out of line. You really hurt her with that one.”

Charles sighed, staring at the bottle in his hand. “I know,” he said again, his voice quieter this time. “I wasn’t thinking. Or maybe I was, and that’s the problem.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s just…” Charles paused, struggling to find the right words. “She makes me feel things I don’t know how to handle. And then when she said all that stuff about how she’d rather kiss a trash can or anyone else but me…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I just—reacted. Like an idiot.”

Arthur studied his brother for a moment before leaning back in his chair. “You know, it’s okay to feel things. But lashing out like that? That’s not how you handle it. You deserved what she did to you after that comment. Hell, if it were me, I’d have punched you.”

Charles chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah, well, she went for humiliation instead. And it worked.”

Arthur grinned. “Oh, it definitely worked. She got you good. But seriously, Charles, what’s your deal with her? One minute you’re at each other’s throats, and the next, you’re looking at her like…” He gestured vaguely, trying to find the right words.

Charles sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the sky. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “She gets under my skin. Always has. And for the longest time, I told myself it was just because she’s Pierre’s sister, and I shouldn’t feel anything for her.” He paused, his voice softening. “But I do. I have for a few years now.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’re in love with her.”

Charles didn’t answer, but the silence spoke volumes.

Arthur let out a long breath, tapping the neck of his beer bottle thoughtfully. “You’ve got to stop letting that eat you alive, mate. Either you tell her how you feel, or you let it go. This whole act of yours, pretending you’re indifferent while secretly wanting her? It’s not working. It’s just making things worse—for both of you.”

“I know,” Charles said quietly. “But it’s not that simple. She hates me now. And maybe she has a reason to.”

Arthur gave him a pointed look. “She doesn’t hate you, Charles. She’s angry, sure. And maybe a bit hurt. But hate? No. If she really hated you, she wouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Charles frowned, replaying the kiss in his mind. The anger, the passion—it had been overwhelming, intoxicating. But there had been something else beneath it, something he couldn’t quite name.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted finally.

Arthur clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Start by apologizing. And I don’t mean a half-assed apology. Really apologize, Charles. Own up to your shit. Then maybe, just maybe, you can start fixing things.”

Charles nodded slowly, the weight of his brother’s words sinking in. He didn’t know if it was too late to fix things with you, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that it might not be.

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taglist: @vroomvro0mferrari @fishyfishersticks @prttylight @tempo-rary-fix @suns3treading @a-beaverhausen @formula1fordisaster @janeh22 @leclercdream @sageskiesf1 @ch16les @emryb @vyctorya @asmoothoperator @dilfsaresohot @freyathehuntress @sarx164

Tags

fanfiction fluff charles leclerc f1 fanfic f1 imagine charles leclerc fanfic charles leclerc fluff charles leclerc imagine formula 1 fanfic

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prttylight

2 years ago

Chanyeol—Imagine

tags : fluff, school love, soft, delulu moment very short, reader×chanyeol

warning : eng is not my native language, please be nice if i make any mistake

Chanyeol was definitely a hot person, but not the kind who cheats on his girlfriend and is a fucking bastard. No, he was a nice hot guy, who plays guitar at school festivals and helps you out if you suck at sports. His black hair sometimes is adorned with a bandana or hello kitty buckles belonging to his little sister.

You were not friends, actually you only see him in breaks since he was always late and your departure times never matched his since he was a year younger. Suddenly this started to change. You were well known for being an early riser, and being the first to come to school, always waiting at the front door studying or just trying to not fall asleep. So you were really surprised when a 1.85m boy appeared with a black hoodie and a coffee, he seemed shocked as you.

—...Wow…You're already here?—the voice of the boy was kinda surprised and hesitant. You nodded feeling kinda shy, he looked really handsome. He smiled—I really thought I was going to make it… I will have to try it again tomorrow.

—Try what?

—Arriving before you—said the boy with a huge smile, sitting down next to you—Wouldn't it be nice if when you arrived there was someone waiting for you with a tasty cappuccino?

He was offering the cappucino, and a little confused you accepted.

—Why are you giving me this?

Chanyeol looks at you with a shy smile and his eyes looking down.

—Because I really like you.

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prttylight

4 months ago

SEBASTIAN VETTEL MASTERLIST

before you read: check ABOUT MY WORKS to make sure you don't miss anything. let me remind you that everything you see in here is real person fiction (rpf) and any similarity or coincidence with real life is just that, a mere coincidence, but everything is fictional.

SERIES

COME WHAT MAY SERIES

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET SERIES

INDEPENDENT FICS

I CAN BUY YOU SOME FLOWERS

YOU CAN STAND UNDER MY UMBRELLA (+18)

I DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR WINNING

PREGNANCY JOURNEY

BEE HOTELS

EACH OTHER BEST KEPT SECRET (+18)

THIS IS ALL MY FAULT

CLIFFORD AND EMILY

ROADTRIP TO MONACO

I ALREADY HAVE A WIFE

YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN YOUR FACE

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prttylight

2 years ago

Challenge de Escritura

01. Demostracion de amor

— tambien lo puedes leer en ao3 <3

Kylo era, sin lugar a dudas, una persona con dificultades para expresarse. Ya sea física o verbalmente, el siempre vacilaba antes de mostrar su afecto. No tenía muy en claro si eran las consecuencias por la fría relación que tuvo con su madre o por sus enseñanzas como soldado, pero no cabia duda que su corazón se atibio con la llegada de Naeva.

Kylo quien se levantaba antes que el Sol saliera, quien extendia las expediciones para estar lejos de casa, y quien odiaba los dulces, ahora se encontraba en las tardes de la mañana comiendo masitas dulces junto alguno de los tantos tes que le gustaban a Naeva. El Sol de la mañana entibiaba la habitación, el aroma al dulce cerezo que crecía a las afueras del castillo lo hacía querer volver a dormirse. Lastimosamente, volverse a dormir atrasaría la expedición a la que Kylo debía asistir.

—Kylo, puedes irte sin preocuparte, sabes que sé cuidarme—Naeva quien siempre estaba tranquila y tenía confianza en sus propia habilidades, no tardaba en darse cuenta que parte de la responsabilidad de su pareja era irse y acompañar a sus tropas. Sin embargo Kylo, había resultado un problema en las últimas salidas, no podía quedarse tranquilo.

—Prométeme que no vas a salir si no estás acompañada—los mechones oscuros caían sobre la cara de su pareja sin llegar a cubrir su expresión de preocupación, el pecho de la joven se enterneció al darse cuenta y lo prometió dejando un beso de la mejilla de su esposo, quien simplemente perdio la mirada con sus orejas rojas.

Para Kylo, mostrar su preocupación, era su forma de amar.

Tags

fanfic oc writing one shot AU star wars ao3 fluff archive of our own aesthetic mutuals 🥺.... kylo ren adam driver original female character kylo au fanfiction kylo ren fanfiction

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