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horror sub-genres: gothic

Max Verstappen sitting comfortably - a series in 4 parts

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bear hugs — cl.16

pairing: charles leclerc x bearman!reader | ollie bearman x oldersister!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: mentions of food, specific clothing/outfits detailed but no specific body descriptions used, tooth rotting fluff, charles and reader being awkward and cheesy, lots of giggling, charles and y/n are just two shy babies who kiss softly, pretty emotional scene where y/n and ollie are the cutest siblings taglist: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @arieslost @weekendlusting

You groaned as your peaceful sleep was disturbed, but by what exactly you weren’t sure. You rolled over, eyes slowly blinking at the way the morning light was pouring through the curtains. Oh. Your phone was ringing. You stretched out an arm to grab your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table all night. Just who was calling and waking you up? You winced as your phone screen shone far too brightly for your poor eyes. Reading the caller ID you huffed and threw your phone onto the bed next to you, before throwing an arm over your eyes to go back to sleep. Sometimes your brother could be so annoying.

Your phone stopped ringing and in the silence you felt yourself gently slipping back into sleep. Until the ringing started again, growling you felt around for your phone before answering with a short tone, “What Ols? I was asleeeeep…” You whined,  “Turn your camera on!” Ollie practically yelled at you. You shut your eyes with a groan, doing as he asked, “Ollie stop shouting-” “Ferrari called.” You stopped at his interruption and sat up suddenly, wide awake as you stared at your little brother, “W-wha…?” “I’m driving for them. This weekend. Carlos is sick and so I’m standing in for him.” Ollie stared at you, practically vibrating on the spot with how excited he was. 

“What the fuck Ollie?!” You gaped at your phone, tears already welling up in your eyes, “Are you serious?” Your brother’s laugh rang through the speaker and you watched as he nodded on screen, “Yeah I just got the call!” “Ols this is insane…” Your voice trailed off as he beamed at you, “I’m shaking to be honest… is that weird? I feel like that’s weird-” “Uh you just got a call from Ferrari that you’re driving in F1 this weekend, I think it’s pretty normal all things considered.” You reasoned, he released a shaky exhale, “You’ll come and watch from the garage with Dad right?” “Obviously, dumbass.” He stuck his tongue out childishly as you checked the time, “I guess we’ll be there in like an hour?” You paused for a moment, “Hey Ollie?” “Hmm?” You smiled at the way his excitement was so visible, “I’m really proud of you, you know that right?” “I love you.” Was all he said in reply, “Love you too stinky, now go eat some breakfast! I’ll be there soon.” You clicked ‘end call’ and sat on your hotel bed in silence. What an insane weekend. You didn’t think you could get any prouder of him after his amazing performance in F2 and gaining that all important P1 position and yet here you were about to dress in Ferrari red and watch your brother race one of the most famous F1 circuits in the world for one of the top teams. 

You fell back against the pillows with a squeal, kicking your legs and giggling in excitement. You grabbed your phone and texted your Dad,

Jumping out of bed you quickly showered before thanking whatever higher power was out there that you’d packed some cute red clothing options this time round including your vintage Ferrari jacket. You grabbed a pair of your favourite jeans and a plain white t-shirt before quickly showering and fixing your hair. After getting dressed and finishing your routine you made sure to grab your bag and you were off to the track. 

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You were used to being in the garages for the F2 races, you’d been to more than your fair share of them to support Ollie, but this was another level. The amount of people; mechanics, PR, sponsors, supporters, engineers, photographers. Your ears were already ringing and you hadn’t even heard the cars yet. A shout of your name grabbed your attention and you turned in the garage to see your brother hurtling towards you, “Y/N!!” You were practically winded as he hugged you tightly, “I’m so glad you’re here!” “Hey stinky.” You wrapped your arms around him, “Oooooo bear hug!” You joked. Ever since you could remember it had been a running joke in your family to call every hug a bear hug, after your last name. You often joked that no one could give hugs like the Bearman family, and only you and your family members could give a certified ‘bear hug’.  “How you feeling?” Ollie stood back up straight, fixing his cap, “Excited!” “Good.” He nodded at your jacket, “Bet you’re glad you brought that now!” You laughed, “Maybe I subconsciously knew…” A cough from behind you made you spin round and you gasped as a man stood right behind you, “May I please get past you? Thank you.” You felt him skim past your back and your knees practically melted at the slight accent and lilt in his voice, your eyes followed him as he walked to the other side of the garage to talk to some of the mechanics. Ollie gave a snort from beside you, “Hellooooo? Earth to Y/N!” His hand waved in front of your face and you slapped it away, looking at him with wide eyes, “Ollie. That was Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc just spoke to me.” 

Charles exhaled almost nervously as he walked past you. He had no clue who you were but he wanted to find out. You’d immediately caught his eye as soon as he’d walked into the garage and now he was hooked. He turned back subtly to look at you and felt his stomach sink as he watched you laugh with Ollie. Of course a pretty girl like you would already be taken. In your Ferrari jacket his mind started racing with thoughts of how you’d look with his number on your back or on your cap. Wait what? He didn’t even know you and he was fantasising about you. Clearly you were someone important to his new junior teammate and he needed to focus on the task at hand. 

“You know you’re drooling,” Your brother joked and you hissed at him, punching his shoulder, barely taking your eyes off of Charles. Ollie rolled his eyes, “In my excitement I forgot about your little crush-,” A slap to his stomach had him doubling over and shutting up as you glared at him. “It’s not a crush!” You defended, “I just… respect him as a driver.” He scoffed, “Yeah right. Well when you’re done fangirling, I need your help.” You shook your head to clear your daydreams and turned to him, “What do you need?” 

Your brother beckoned you to follow him back through the garage. Weaving between people and winding your way through the halls, he opened the door of his driver’s room and sank down onto the small couch that had been placed there. You watched as for a second his excited demeanour dropped, a hint of nervousness peeking through. He fumbled with his hands, cracking and clicking his knuckles, thumb absentmindedly scratching over the back of his hand. You sat down next to him and said nothing, just let your hand fall on top of his and give a gentle squeeze, “You’ll be fine.” With that one sentence you simply sat in silence. Ollie’s head dropped to your shoulder and you rested your head on his, understanding he just needed you there. All day he’d acted like he wasn’t nervous. He’d remained cool as a cucumber in front of the cameras and media, he’d sat through interview after interview, he’d met far too many people to remember who they actually all were, he was doing his best to get to grips with a new car after just one practice session and he had still not shown any signs of nervousness where the public or potential F1 employers could see. But you knew. Here in this room he wasn’t Ollie Bearman, F1 rookie or Ferrari's weekend hero, he was just your little brother and you’d give him that safe space as long as he needed. 

You weren’t sure how long had passed just sitting on the couch but the hubbub and buzz of noise outside seemed to have increased even though it was muffled by the thin walls of the driver’s room. Ollie had since shifted to half-lie on the couch and you could see he’d fallen asleep, dozing before he needed to get in the car and focus for qualifying. You knew it was your brother’s way of getting the track ingrained in his head, so you wouldn’t disturb him yet.  A knock pulled you from your reverie and you were quick to head to the door so they wouldn’t knock again and wake Ollie up. You opened the door a crack and poked your head out, “Yes? Oh-” You blinked up and saw two green eyes staring back at yours, “Hi? I thought Ollie would be in here?” You heard your brother groan on the couch behind you clearly disturbed by the talking and so you quickly exited the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind you. “He is! He’s just taking a nap!” You explained with what you hoped was a friendly and not-too-creepy smile. Charles nodded in understanding, “I bet it’s been a pretty intense weekend.” You gave a small laugh, nodding, “Yeah it has been for all of us!” Charles found himself getting a little flustered at your smile. When he’d knocked the door he hadn’t expected the pretty girl he’d seen earlier to answer. It had taken him a few seconds to psych himself up to even ask you if he could pass earlier and now here he was face-to-face with you in his teammate’s room doorway. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this chance but he would not let it go to waste! 

“How are you finding it so far?” His heart skipped a beat as your face lit up, “It’s incredible! Definitely a step up from F2.” Ah so you’d been supporting Ollie for a long time. A best friend? Maybe a girlfriend? High school sweethearts? “So not your first time at a race then?” Charles asked curiously, “Definitely not! I don’t think I’ve ever missed one of Ol’s races since he got into F2.” Charles groaned internally, clearly you were off limits, but did his best to look interested. You gave a giggle at the impressed face Charles made, “That’s certainly dedication!” You nodded, “Of course!” “It’s good you get to be here for his first F1 weekend then. You seem like a very important person to him…” Charles gave a subtle dig for information and you were none the wiser to his motives, “Well he’s my little brother so of course I would be!” Charles froze, Ollie was your what? You were his sister? Charles wasn’t sure if that thought made him more nervous or more relieved. “You’re Ollie’s sister?” He asked incredulously, “Yes…” You replied hesitantly, unsure why his reaction was so serious. Charles felt himself exhaling in relief before he looked at your face, an eyebrow raised and your arms crossed, “Is that so unbelievable? I mean I know we don't look as alike as other siblings but...” He shook his head, 

“No, no!” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and looked away, not wanting to see your reaction to his next statement, “I just uhhh, I thought you might have been a girlfriend or something…” You couldn’t help the way the laughter tipped out of you, “Ew! No way!” You held a hand out to Charles, “Hi, I’m Y/N Bearman.” You emphasised your surname and Charles felt a grin stretching across his face that matched your own, “Charles.” You sighed internally at the sight of his dimples popping out and resisted the urge to poke them. “I actually noticed you earlier and I thought you were far too pretty to be any regular garage guest.” You giggled at his bold flirting, “Well I’m glad that you noticed me back then… There was no way someone as good looking as you can walk around without grabbing attention… Especially in the red suit…” With a wink, Charles found himself speechless, not something that was a common occurrence, especially when it came to flirting and talking to women, but he loved it.  “So now we’ve cleared up that little mishap, could I maybe get your num–”

The door to the room behind you opening caught your attention and both you and Charles watched as Ollie appeared, stretching and inhaling deeply, “Oh there you are.” Charles felt his stomach flip with anxiety, hoping Ollie hadn’t heard him flirting with you. That would not look good for him or help his teammate's mental state. But damn, if he wasn’t more than a little disappointed… You seemed to have recovered quite well though, brushing off the previous conversation easily, “Good morning sunshine, sleep well?” “Mhmm,” Ollie leaned against you and nodded, “I needed that.” “We all need a pre-race nap sometimes,” Hearing Charles' voice caused Ollie to wake up fully, standing upright as he acknowledged the older driver. 

“You’ll be fine mate.” Charles placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder and squeezed, “I actually came to find you, thought I could talk you through how to handle some of the corners with the steering?” Ollie gave him a look of appreciation and together they headed back towards the garage. You felt yourself melt that Charles was doing his best to help your little brother and you watched with a dopey grin on your face as the two of them made their way down the hallway, “I’m gonna go find dad!” Ollie waved at you to signal he’d heard you before he was gone. 

You took a moment, going back into the room and closing the door behind you. Holy shit you’d just had an entire conversation with Charles Leclerc, he had called you pretty and was he about to ask for your number? You huffed and rolled your eyes. Your brother had the shittiest timing sometimes. 

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

With big red headphones on, you anxiously watched the screen. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you nervously brought them up to your face, almost not wanting to watch just in case anything went wrong. You got nervous watching Ollie every time he raced, but this weekend the stakes were higher and your nerves were more frazzled. Q1 had gone well but now the pressure was on. Pace was being set and each car seemed to be lapping faster and faster. You turned to look at your Dad who didn’t look any better than you. You reached across and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. He smiled at you before you both turned your attention back to the big screens at the back of the garage. As your brother set out on his flying lap you found yourself yelling encouragement along with the mechanics and engineers in the garage, despite the fact he couldn’t hear you. “Come on Ollie!” You looked at the times up on the board already and willed your brother to get even a tenth of a second off their times. 

You couldn’t have cared less about his time though as long as he made it back safely. You watched your brother’s car fly across the finish line and you waited with bated breath for the confirmation of his time to come through. You felt your dad’s hand squeeze yours before you were both cursing under your breath, 0.036 seconds. That’s all there was in it. You felt your Dad wrap you up in a hug, exhaling in relief that your brother had made it through qualifying safely. 

You knew he’d be beating himself up when he came back to the garage and you took the bright Ferrari red headphones off your head, “Dad, I’m gonna go and wait for him,” Your dad nodded, already in conversation with some of the Ferrari engineers about how they could make race day easier for Ollie. You headed to his room, wanting to be there when he got back and you’d barely taken a seat before the door swung open and in came a slightly tense looking Ollie. “I know you’re going to tell me I did a good job and I appreciate that but I’m almost more frustrated that it was so close.” He sighed and you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as he took a seat next to you, “I’m proud of you Ols.” He smiled gratefully as the door was pushed open an inch, “Uh… hello?” “Charles?” You were confused as the Monegasque man’s head poked round the door and he nodded at Ollie, “Solid drive mate!” Ollie grumbled next to you and you whacked his thigh, “Ow!” He huffed at you, and you glared at him as you tilted your head in Charles direction, “Sorry, thank you Charles.” Charles gave a laugh, “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” Another knock sounded through the room and one of Ollie’s engineers called for him to go and discuss some seat adjustments for the race. You stood up as he went to leave, “Hey! If you think I’m not giving you a bear hug after all that, you’re very much mistaken.” Ollie laughed and turned back round, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist, squeezing slightly and hoping he could feel just how proud you were, “Love you stinky.” “Love you too dummy” He pulled away and left the room, closing the door behind him, 

“Bear hug?” You looked at Charles who stood there with a slight smile across his face and a raised eyebrow, “Mhmm! They’re very special and you actually can’t give them without the necessary qualifications.” “Ah.” Charles said seriously, “And what qualifications are those?” You giggled, “The Bearman surname!” Charles felt a laugh rumble up from deep in his chest at your giggle. God you were spellbinding. “Your brother did an amazing job today.” You smiled in appreciation, speaking genuinely,

“Thank you.” “What are you up to this evening then?” “Oh uhhh… well I’ve been watching a new series recently so probably just watching a couple of episodes and maybe ordering room service…” You facepalmed internally at how boring you were making yourself sound to an F1 driver, “Sorry that probably sounds kinda sad huh?” Charles shook his head and waved his hands to emphasise himself, “No, no! It actually sounds… pretty nice…” For the briefest moment you considered how to reply before your mouth was opening and you couldn’t stop yourself, “You’re welcome to join me if you want?” you froze. Oh fuck. Had you just invited Charles Leclerc to binge watch Netflix with you and eat off the room service menu while you wore sweatpants and a crusty old t-shirt? “You don’t have to-” “I would love to-” “Oh.” You nervously giggled at each other before your eyes dropped to the floor, too shy to keep looking at him. “I would love to join you… if that’s okay?” You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course!” “Give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?" He held his phone out to you and you nodded, typing your number in and handing it back to him, “Great! You guys are staying at the same hotel as us tonight right?” You made a noise of confirmation, “Mhmm, they moved us for the weekend. I-I’m in room 604” You could have sworn Charles blushed as you said your room number. 

You were so flustered that it appeared your brain wasn’t working correctly, your tongue getting tied as you tried to continue the conversation, “Uh, you don’t need to bring anything, clothing is optional.” “Excuse me?!” Charles froze as he stared at you. Did you just tell him that clothing was optional? He didn’t think you were that bold, or that you had an angle. His mind drifted to the thought of you opening the door naked for the quickest second before you realised you mistake and pulled him out of his thoughts, “Fuck no! I meant comfy clothing is optional! Like you can wear whatever, like sweatpants or even pyjamas if you wanted to, or-or-or if you really wanted you uhhh you could wear no clothes I guess but- wait no this isn’t me trying to get you naked I promise!” You finished your ramble panicking just as a loud laugh burst out of Charles. Your head dropped into your hands and you whined in embarrassment as Charles' hands found his knees, unable to stand up straight at how hard he was laughing. “Fuck you’re cute.” You inhaled sharply, eyes shooting down to the floor and biting your lip softly through a smile, “Oh?” “Mhmm” You felt your cheeks heat up as it sunk in that he’d called you cute, after you’d embarrassed yourself no less! “Anyway…” Charles attempted to move the conversation forward, desperate to make you gasp again like you had a moment ago, “I’ll be there later,” He moved towards the door, leaning in as he did so “I hope clothing is optional for you too.” And with a brush of his shoulder against yours he was gone. Noise from the hallway and nearby garages poured in through the open door and you didn’t move until Ollie came back, “What happened to you?” “N-nothing! Just talked with Charles a bit.” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed giving him a shove, “Come on, I’m done so we’re gonna go back to the hotel! I need sleep.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You rushed around your hotel room, ensuring any stray socks or underwear were tucked away in your case and any possible embarrassing items were safely hidden out of sight. Thankfully you'd found a slightly less crusty and slightly less old t-shirt in your suitcase and you'd thrown that on over over some shorts that were a considerably more socially acceptable choice than your tattered travel sweatpants.

Your eyes swept around the room and gave one final check. Charles had texted five minutes ago to say that he was on his way up and so you knew there would be a knock at the door any second. Grabbing some extra pillows from the closet, you placed them on the bed and pulled up Netflix just in time for the door to sound. “Coming!” You raced over to the door before stopping, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. You opened the door, “Do you have a spare toothbrush?” “Ollie?!” “Yes…? It’s me? Your brother?” Ollie looked at you suspiciously as you stuck your head out of the door and looked up and down the corridor, “Are you expecting someone?” You choked on air, “Me?! Expecting someone? Pfft, no!” Though you had been thanking those higher powers earlier in the day, you now cursed them out as at the end of the corridor the elevator dinged, both yours and Ollie’s heads snapped to look as the doors opened and there stood Charles. Ollie looked at you and gave a laugh, “Not expecting anyone, hmm?” Your eyes widened. “He’s not here for me!” Ollie crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly, “Oh no?” You felt your heart race as Charles came down the corridor. You sighed and looked at Ollie, trying to sense how he felt about it, “If it makes you mad or upset or uncomfortable then no, he's not here for me.” 

Charles approached the two of you and slowed his pace, sensing a conversation was happening that he didn’t need to hear, but still he couldn’t deny that he was curious. It was obvious you were talking about him. Ollie’s arms dropped to grab your shoulders, “Y/N, you’ve already given up an insane amount for me to be able to pursue this… Why would I ever be mad about you wanting a fun date night?” You pursed your lips, “It’s not a date.” Ollie’s facial expression dead panned, “Yuh huh, okay, and I’m gonna win the race tomorrow.” You flicked his forehead and heard Charles stifle a laugh to the side. “Just wait here, I’ll get you the toothbrush.” You grumbled going back into the hotel room. Charles coughed nervously as he stood in front of Ollie. Though he was younger than Charles, he was taller and Charles found the way he was staring at him ever so slightly intimidating. “Don’t keep her up late, don’t do anything to upset her and if you make her cry I’ll turn you into the wall tomorrow.” Ollie glared at him and Charles chuckled nervously, “Noted. I would never want to make her cry,” Ollie watched as Charles stared after you with a dopey smile, “I do wanna make her smile though, her smile is pretty.” Ollie coughed a laugh into his hand, Charles was seemingly already down bad and he knew you were too. “Can I ask a question?” Ollie nodded, “Shoot.” “What did you mean by she’s given up a lot for you?” Ollie sighed, shuffling his feet almost uncomfortably. “Dad couldn’t travel with me because of work, Mum couldn’t leave our other siblings at home because they were too young so it was Y/N that moved around with me and travelled with me.” Charles nodded, encouraging Ollie to continue, “She didn’t go on dates or go out clubbing with friends or get a boyfriend because she left it all behind for me. She even decided to not go to uni... She says she doesn’t mind but…” He trailed off, “You still feel bad?” Charles finished for him. Ollie shrugged, “Wouldn’t you? She says she got to travel more than anyone else her age and got to experience tons of stuff while seeing the world so I guess to her it doesn’t matter as much.” Charles hummed, starting to understand just how close you and Ollie were. “You know when Arthur got sick last year it was Y/N that took care of him and drove him to the hospital?” Charles head whipped up to look at Ollie, “That was Y/N?” “Yep. She drove him to the hospital and stayed with him all night, then brought him back home the next day. She made him soup and helped him take all his medicine on time and stuff.” Charles found his heart growing even warmer. He’d remembered how panicked both he and his mother had been when they learned the youngest Leclerc was extremely unwell, until his mother had received a call to say someone was looking after him - now he knew it was you! Ollie smiled to himself, glad that in some roundabout way he was now able to do something for you. It was clear you and Charles were already both smitten with each other. “Got it!” You reappeared at the door and flourished the toothbrush under his nose. “Thank you!” “Mhmm! What were you guys talking about?” “Race strategies-” “The room service menu-” Your eyes narrowed slightly as they gave different answers at the same time and you looked between them, “O…kay…? Cool… Well, you need to relax.” You gave Ollie a look and he saluted, turning round and heading back to his room a few doors down, “Yes coach!” You shook your head before turning to Charles and opening the door wider, “You coming in?”

He smiled and made his way into your room, noting how you’d added a few little touches here and there to make it feel like home even though you were thousands of miles away, “Cute pictures,” Charles wandered over to the vanity where you had put up some small pictures of your family and friends at home, pictures of you and Ollie at various tourist spots round the world and a few family pets. “It makes the distance a little less… distance-y.” “I get it.” “Soooo uhhh…” You stood in the middle of the room and nervously kicked your foot into the floor, “I see we both decided to wear clothes.” Charles smirked and you couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out, “Indeed we did.” “I can’t pretend I’m not slightly disappointed…” He gave you his best attempt at a wink and you hid a smile behind your hand, “I’m still working on it…” He huffed. As he stood there pouting you took in the sight of him in front of you. Dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a white sweatshirt he looked like the epitome of cosy soft boyfriend vibes. “Are you hungry?” Charles took the lead and you were internally thankful for that. “Kind of? We could have a look and see what takes our fancy? Although I’m pretty sure that the majority of the items listed are not approved by your PT…” Charles waved you off, “We all break our diets more regularly than you’d except.” “Tell me about it… I keep having to remind Ollie that chicken nuggets are not nutritious and healthy all the time.” Charles tipped his head back and let out a laugh and you found yourself unable to stop giggling along with him. The laughter eased the remaining tension and you settled onto the bed, patting the spot next to you to encourage him to sit. 

The two of you sat on the bed, perusing the menu and selecting what you wanted before he called down to order it. While you waited you talked about anything and everything. The race tomorrow, how warm it was in Jeddah, your favourite places you’d travelled to, musicians you listened to regularly. You found yourself falling into conversation with him so easily, it was difficult to remember that you’d only known each other for a few hours. When the food arrived Charles was firm in getting you to stay sat down while he answered the door, determined to treat you like a princess.

“Charles, I can walk to the door!” You giggled, “Non! You will wait here and I will go.” He bowed before he walked to the door and you rolled your eyes, a smile plastered across your face. “Here you are, madame, your food.” “Why thank you kind sir.” Taking the plate from him you fluffed up the pillow behind you, clicking on your laptop to reload Netflix. “What do you feel like watching? Drive to Survive?” You asked, doing your best to hold in your laughter when Charles’ head shot up, looking ever so slightly traumatised, “Absolutely not!” You fell into laughter as he climbed onto the bed next to you, “How about a Studio Ghibli movie?” he nodded, taking a bite of his food, “The music is beautiful! I think you’d really like it!” “Let’s do it!” You nodded, clicking on Howl’s Moving Castle and loading it up. 

The two of you watched the movie in silence for a while and you watched as Charles’ fingers tapped along in time with the rhythm of the music. You felt yourself getting swept up in the story, not even noticing Charles’ eyes on you. “I love this part!” You sat up a little and Charles followed suit, subtly moving his arm to rest behind you. You glanced around to see his hand almost over your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat up quickly. “S-sorry!” He went to move, “N-no, it’s okay…” You looked at him and moved a little closer until your thigh was touching his and his arm was fully around you. Charles smiled down at you as you settled back down and got comfy. God he could get used to this… He daydreamed for a second about getting to do this with you after every race weekend. For the rest of the film, you stayed firmly in Charles embrace, even daring to place one of your hands in his as the characters on screen also held hands. Soft smiles and shy glances were all you exchanged occasionally. You did your absolute best to fight the wave of sleepiness threatening to overtake you but with the heat from Charles’ body and the cosy bed and the soft music of the film, you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut. Your head dropped to rest between his shoulder and chest as the credits rolled and Charles looked down as best he could to see you asleep. He smiled to himself, refusing to move even when his shoulder started to cramp up. He looked at the clock on the wall across the room and realised he had better sleep. After all, he still had a race to drive. He slowly shuffled, careful to support your head as he laid you down on the pillow. You sighed in your sleep and shuffled closer to him, seeking out the warmth he provided. Charles found himself facing an internal battle. Did he stay and risk you feeling uncomfortable and offended or leave and risk you feeling upset he didn’t stay? As he debated the correct answer, you made the decision for him. Half-awake you tugged on the sleeve of his sweater. “Don’t go… warm…” You whined and he completely melted, sliding onto the bed next to you and lying on his back. You felt his heart race as you cuddled into his side and rested your head on his chest. Charles gently ran his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you dozed on his chest. “Hey Y/N?” He said lowly, “Mhmm?” You blinked sleepily, “Would it be okay if I kissed your forehead amour?” You nodded, “More than okay,” With a contented sigh, you relaxed once more, Charles leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. There was a pause before he leant down to kiss your forehead again, only to find his lips against yours. The two of you pulled apart quickly, you were now wide awake and sat up next to him while he led there in shock, eyes wide. If you weren’t so surprised, you probably would have laughed at the way Charles lips almost seemed stuck in a pout before he raced to sit up and apologise, “Fuck I’m so sorry!” He cried, “You’re sorry? I’m sorry!” Your eyes mirrored his, “I shouldn’t have just leaned down to kiss you again.” “It’s okay Charles really… I…” You went quiet for a moment and he gently reached for your hand, “What is it?” You bit your lip, not daring to look at him. “I-I…” “Take your time amour.” He smiled at you encouragingly as his thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand, “I kind of liked it…” You whispered, eyes squeezing shut, “Only kind of?” He asked, genuinely, not wanting to scare you. “C-can we try again?” You opened your eyes and felt him gently tilt your chin to look up at him, “You want to try again?” You nodded and Charles shook his head, “Non mon ange, I need to hear you say it. I’m not going to kiss you without you telling me it’s okay-” “Please. Charles. I want you to kiss me… I just might not be very good at it, you see I haven’t really had much practice so please forgive me if its bad…”

Any remaining words died on your tongue as Charles cupped your face with the hand that had been holding your chin and his other arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you a little closer to him. “Just follow my lead ma belle.” Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath swept across your lips. You expected to feel his lips against yours but you were pleasantly surprised at the feeling of his lips kissing your forehead once more. Your eyes stayed shut as he pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, then the other. A quick peck to the nose left your giggling, before he placed a kiss to your jawline that left you breathless, “Please… Charles…” His lips were almost on yours again and you felt them brush yours slightly as he spoke, “Please what mon ange?” “Kiss me.” Any little part of you that had been frustrated by his teasing only moments ago was certainly glad of it now. It made the moment his lips touched yours all that much sweeter. Any nerves melted away as he held you gently.

There was no heavy panting or biting, no licking or sucking. Just his lips caressing yours. Your head spun as he finally pulled away to let you take a breath just for a moment. You chased his lips, not quite ready to let him go yet and he let out a contented hum at the way you pressed your lips to him once more. He swore he fell even harder when you smiled into the kiss. You gasped when he pulled you into his lap and the kiss fell apart as you both dissolved into giggles. Your tummy flipped in the most delightful way as his nose gently rubbed against yours, “Was that okay?” Your hands linked around the back of his head and found the short hair there, gently threading your fingers through and twisting it round. You leaned down to whisper, “My turn…” His eyes closed, blissfully as you traced your own kisses across his face, in awe of the way his long lashes sat on his cheeks. You placed a small kiss on top of the freckle on his cheek and giggled at the way his stubble tickled your nose and lips, he opened his eyes and watched your wiggling your nose, “Tickles.” He placed his hands on your hips and softly rubbed his thumbs just under your shirt. You smiled down at him and nodded, “Words ma belle.” “Yes Charles, you can.” He smiled up at you and pouted to ask for a kiss, “Merci ma belle.” He slid his hands under your shirt to gently hold your hips and feel the soft skin there. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness and the comfort he was providing. “I’m so glad I asked you to come over.” A kiss to your forehead was your answer, “Me too…”

Neither of you moved for a few minutes, just feeling each other breathe. Feeling how your heart rates slowed after racing from the excitement of kissing. You hadn’t even noticed yourself getting sleepy again but Charles had. “Ma belle, I need to go…” You nodded but didn’t move, Charles chuckled, “Ma belle?” “Do you have to?” Charles cooed at how sleepy you sounded, “If I stay here I won’t sleep, I’ll just want to kiss you and hold you all night and I have a race tomorrow.” You conceded and lifted your head but remained in his lap, “That was actually my plan.” Charles head tilted, “Distract the competition so Ollie can sneak through.” Charles head dropped to your collarbone with a laugh, “So sneaky mon ange…” You nodded, climbing off of his lap and taking a seat next to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood up but found himself unable to help leaning back down to kiss you just once… twice… three times more. You pushed his chest and smiled, “Go Charles! I’ll see you in the morning.” He let himself out of your room and as soon as the door had closed you were squealing into your pillow, giddy with excitement and stomach full of butterflies.

And if Charles did the same thing when he got back to his room? Well that was his business.

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“Good morning!” “You are far too happy this morning. What happened with Charles? Did you kiiiiiiiiss him?” You glared at Ollie who stood in the door of your hotel room making kissy faces at you. “Whatever happened between me and Charles is between us.” You grabbed your bag and headed towards the elevator at the end of the hallway, Ollie easily falling into step beside you, “So something did happen?” “Maybe! I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Your brother knocked his shoulder into yours, turning serious, “It’s not. It’s just nice to see you so happy.” You stood in front of the elevator doors and turned to Ollie, “Thanks Ols.” “But also I need to know if I need to crash him into the wall today.” “hUH?!”  

When you reached the Ferrari garage, you were excited to support your brother but also excited to see Charles again. You spotted him not long after entering the garage, his back was to you but even seeing the back of his head was enough to send you into a smile that alerted everyone in the near vicinity that you had it bad for the man wearing number 16. One of the mechanics stood with him greeted Ollie and Charles turned round, face breaking into an identical grin at the sight of you in a Ferrari red dress. Your Dad elbowed you, “Is there something going on I need to know about? Spill the tea bestie” He wiggled his eyebrows and you snorted, leaning into him and bumping your head against his shoulder affectionately, “There’s no tea to spill dad, and Ollie, stop teaching Dad phrases you think he needs to know!” Your Dad and Ollie laughed as you made your way over to Charles, “Hi.” “Hi. You look beautiful.” Charles found himself breathless as he took in your full appearance. “Did you get any sleep?” A goofy grin crept across his face, “Filled with dreams of you ma belle, I slept wonderfully. And you?” You nodded, “Something similar I guess…” “You guess?” “Mhmm…” You gasped as you felt his hand slowly grab yours, his fingers interlocking with yours, “Charles! What if someone sees?” “I don’t mind people seeing me holding hands with the prettiest girl at the race today.” You gently tapped his chest and shook your head, “You’re so silly.” You looked across the garage as you heard Ollie’s laugh and Charles’ face turned serious, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze to get your attention, “I actually wanted to say that I totally understand that you’re here for Ollie today. It’s lovely to see you but I’m not going to take you away from supporting your brother when he needs you.” You gave his hand a squeeze back in appreciation, “Thank you Charles. We’ll catch up later though! Good luck, race safe!” 

Charles felt his cheek turning as red as his car as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek before darting across the garage with a giggle. He stared after you with a dumb lovestruck look on his face, one hand coming up to hold his cheek, “Oh my friend, you have it bad, no?” Charles whirled round to see Carlos and some of the engineers staring at him, amused looks on their faces. “I wish they hadn’t let you leave the hospital today.” Carlos laughed, wincing slightly as he did so, “And miss our little Charles in love? No way! This is more entertaining than the race will be.” 

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You stood with Ollie in the garage as he waited until the last second to get in the car. “You ready?” He inhaled, “I guess we’ll find out huh? It’s now or never…” You smiled at him, handing him his helmet. You had your pre-race routine with Ollie that consisted of making sure he had one last sip of water, helping him put his helmet on before kissing where his forehead would be inside the helmet and finally a bear hug. You’d done it before every race since he was in his karting days and his debut F1 race would be no different. Charles caught sight of this and smiled. It was good that the young driver had such a great support system. In a slightly weird way he was almost envious that he didn't have someone to do those things for him. He watched as you held Ollie's bottle up to his lips before placing it to the side, buckling his helmet up once it was on his head. Charles' heart grew warm as he watched Ollie bend down so you could reach to kiss his forehead. You and Ollie were unaware of your audience, just completely in your own little bubble. "Can't believe I have to bend for you to reach my forehead now." It was a throwaway comment from Ollie but it left you with tears welling up in your eyes. Oh how he'd grown. When this ritual first started he was just a kid. Far shorter than you, almost looking too small for his kart. He had been so young but his dreams were big. You felt your bottom lip quiver as you watched your brother's dreams become reality in front of your eyes. You knew he felt guilty that you'd given so much up. "Bear hug?" You asked, holding your arms out. Ollie wrapped you up in the tightest hug he could manage, "Thank you." He didn't need to say what for. You knew. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again." He squeezed you just a little more before he was pulling away and climbing into that red car that he'd long dreamed of. You felt your dad come alongside you and pull you into his side, the two of you both misty-eyed with tearful smiles.

Watching his car leave the garage for the grid you couldn't help the way you looked around for Charles. You caught sight of him and approached him, "Are you alright ma belle?" You wiped your eyes hastily, "Yeah, just a little overwhelmed?" Charles gave an understanding nod, "It makes perfect sense mon ange." You cleared your throat, "But I have another pre-race ritual to complete." Charles eyes shot to yours, "unless you already have one and then I won't interfere-" "Please." You gave him a soft smile and took his helmet from him to allow him to do up his suit properly, "What do you still need to do?" Charles looked almost shy as he gave his request, "Could you help me put my helmet on?" Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded, gently tugging on his helmet to pull it down when he grabbed your wrists, "Wait." "What?" Your eyes searched his, worried you'd somehow hurt him or done it wrong, his face broke into a grin, "Can I get a kiss before my helmet goes on?" You looked around the garage, everyone busy with their own jobs and not really paying you much attention. "Are you sure?" Charles nodded. You looked for a small space of skin not covered by his balaclava and pressed a light kiss to his cheek just under his eye. His eyes shut as if he was savouring the moment before he nodded at you to pull his helmet down. He watched your face contort into an expression of concentration as you buckled his helmet up with so much precision and care. "What comes next?" "Help me with my gloves?" His voice was muffled through the helmet, you nodded and took his gloves from him. Helping him put one on and squeezing that hand before switching to the other one. "Can I suggest one last thing?" He nodded, "I think you should have a bear hug." You couldn't see his smile through his helmet but the way he enthusiastically pulled you into his arms told you all you needed to know. You stood there for a moment just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. You rested your head on his chest and sighed. His hand gently caressed up and down your back before he was being called to climb into his car. You squeezed him one last time for good measure before he was gone and off to line up for the start of the race.

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Your throat was sore from all the yelling and screaming you'd done at the screen, your legs were about to give out from the adrenaline rush and your cheeks hurt from the smiling you'd done. You had tears in your eyes again as you watched your brother cross the line in 7th for his first ever F1 grand prix. Turning to hug your dad you nodded at Carlos who sat across the garage. He gave you a warm smile and a knowing wink as the garage began rushing to the podium for Charles. You were bouncing on your feet as you waited to see Ollie, Charles, either of them, both of them?

The pitlane was packed as fans, teams and reporters all swarmed down to the podium. And there, pushing his way through all of it, was Ollie. You couldn't help the scream that left your throat as you sprinted to him. Pulling him into a huge hug. "Oh my god bear." You practically sobbed, "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Ollie slid his helmet off and his face was lit up, "Oh my god that was amazing! Intense, but amazing!" You giggled as he moved his neck experimentally before wincing, "Yeah I'm gonna need a physio appointment like... as soon as possible." You let out a laugh, "Dad was already on it by about lap four don't worry!" "Thank fuck." Your brother exhaled, eyes widening dramatically. You observed the way the podium was getting increasingly busy. "Go." Ollie looked at you, "You know you want toooo..." He sang, "But..." "No buts, butts are for sitting." Ollie, closed his eyes as if he would hear no further arguments. He leant in close, "I think it would mean a lot to him too." "Ollie I can't just g-" "Excuse me, Carlos?" Ollie called to the older driver, "You're going the the podium aren't you?" Carlos motioned that he was, "Are you going to?" You looked at Ollie and he gave an encouraging nod, "Go!" You looked at Carlos, "Lead the way."

It was packed. You wondered if Carlos should really be making his way through the crowd given his condition, but they almost seemed to part for him. It certainly made things easier for you so you couldn’t complain. You stood next to Carlos right in front of the barrier underneath the podium. You were just in time. The announcer spoke Charles' name and he walked out onto the podium, he had a huge grin that stretched from cheek to cheek. He stood there for a moment before looking down at his team Charles felt his heart stop. There was no way. Was there? You were stood celebrating his podium? Charles had never wanted a podium ceremony to be over quicker in his life. He was dying to get back down there and hold you in his arms again, maybe even kiss you if he was lucky. As he was handed his trophy he looked down once more, pointing at you. To the cameras it would look like he was pointing at his mechanics, or even Carlos. But you knew. Even though he was fairly far away from you he could still see how your eyes shone up at him. The way they sparkled not just under the floodlights of the track but from the way you were just looking at him. You weren’t aware of anything around you. Not Carlos smirking at the way you and Charles watched each other, not the music, not the champagne, nor the fireworks that now exploded in the sky above Jeddah rivalling the fireworks that were going off in your tummy at the way Charles gazed at you with so much adoration. 

As soon as he could, Charles was racing off the podium and Carlos led you back to the Ferrari garage where he would soon appear. You waited, almost pacing back and forth. Ollie watched you knowingly, “You really like him huh?” You froze, “Is it that obvious?!” Ollie scoffed, “Uh? Yes!” You rolled your eyes before Carlos called your name, “Y/N you can wait in his room if you want? It’s opposite Ollie’s.” You nodded and wound your way through the now familiar corridors of Ferrari’s garage. You made it to Charles' room and settled down on the couch. Now to wait. 

You didn’t have to wait long before the door was bursting open and a champagne drenched Charles was striding across the room, placing his trophy down on the couch before sweeping you into his arms, nose tracing up your neck, “Ma belle…” “Charles! That tickles!” Charles laughed and your legs went weak as you felt his chest rumble against you. “Wanted to do this as soon as I got out of the car.” He mumbled. You gently held his face in your hands and brought his face up to look at you, “Congratulations handsome.” Charles smiled, leaning in before catching himself and stopping with a groan, “Can I kiss you? Please say yes ma belle… Please fuck… I need to kiss you, it’s all I've wanted to do since the race ended, need to kiss you, please?” “Yes, Charles.” “Thank you amour.” His lips met yours and you sighed as you tasted the sweet champagne from his lips. He was sticky and sweaty but he was so Charles. You hummed happily before he gently bit your lip, eliciting a whine from you. He growled a little at the sound before pulling away, “We need to stop ma belle.” “Awww…” You pouted and he laughed, poking the lip that was jutting out. “I’m not going to do this with you in my driver’s room of all places, especially when I’m sweaty and covered in champagne.” “I don’t know…” Your arms circled his neck as you leaned into him, “I think it’s a good look.” His hands found your hips and he couldn’t help the way his thumbs traced tiny circles.

“You know… I think you should come to F1 races more often…” “Oh?” “Mhmm” Charles looked at you, “I think your ritual got me my podium today.” You stared at him for a second before laughing, “You think so?” He pressed a final kiss to your lips and nodded, “Absolutely!” “Then I think I need to come and stand in the Ferrari garage more often.” Charles pulled you into a hug, “That sounds perfect.” 

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y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, scuderiaferrari and 23,196 others y/nbearman little weekend photodump ft. very on brand red outfits, the nicest hospitality and garage I've ever stood in, Ollie's first F1 race and post-race dinner and Dad's first TV interview for sky sports

View all 4,157 comments olliebearman Think that was definitely Dad's favourite part of the weekend ⤷ y/nbearman Papa bear for commentator 2025? Comment liked by skysportsf1 and olliebearman ⤷ olliebearman ICON

bearmanfan they have the cutest sibling relationship I swear 🥺 lalaleclerc PLS TELL ME Y'ALL ALSO SAW CHARLES LOOKING AT HER IN THE GARAGE ⤷ charleswifey omg yesssss 😭 he really thought no one was looking but there was a whole ass camera on him ⤷ y/nbearman wHAT? ⤷ lalaleclerc oops 🥹

charles_leclerc can't wait to have you in the garage again ma belle Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ y/nbearman looking forward to it handsome ⤷ f1f1fan wait. WHAT? ⤷ bearmanfam Y/N AND CHARLES?!

scuderiaferrari We're so glad you had a good weekend! Ollie is our new fave 🫶🏼 ⤷ charles_leclerc ouch ⤷ carlossainz55 I've been gone less than one weekend 🧍‍♂️ ⤷ y/nbearman you're so real for this admin I approve ⤷ scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️

charlesandcarlos I had no clue who this girl was until they said on the commentary that she was Ollie's sister, damn they have good genes ⤷ y/nfanpage isn't she the prettiest!! ⤷ olllie charles has good taste Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ charlessss does anyone know what she does for a living? ⤷ bearmanfam it's actually so sweet 🥺 she gave up on going to uni and following her own career path for a while to travel with Ollie and support him in F2! she's basically his PA, manager, photographer, nutritionist, therapist, best friend and sister rolled into one ⤷ charlessss holy shit 🧍‍♀️ we STAN her

bearmanhug is it just me that thought we'd get a really mushy post from y/n like when Ollie finished the F2 season last year? ⤷ ferrarifan no same here ⤷ y/nbearman oh it's incoming don't worry 🤭 ⤷ ferrawri OH FUCK WE AREN'T READY

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y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 21,874 others y/nbearman to say that I'm proud of you is an understatement. you make me proud every day no matter whether you win or lose not just on the track but off too. but this weekend I'm in absolute awe of you. the results you've achieved just show the hard work and dedication you've put into this sport. I know your passion to succeed and improve will take you far! this is just the beginning of amazing things to come. forever proud of you and I've always got your back. I love you to the end of the line baby bear ❤️❤️❤️ tagged: @.olliebearman

View all 3,562 comments olliebearman love you too sun bear Comment liked by y/nbearman

bearmanfam OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK 😭 ⤷ bearmanfam ollie once said in an interview that his sister always makes him smile and lights up his day and that's why he calls her sun bear! she calls him baby bear because he's younger than her ⤷ charlesandcarlos I'm pretty sure she used red hearts bc he drove for Ferrari this week 🥹 Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ bearmanfam omg YES ❤️ ⤷ charlesandcarlos CONFIRMED ❤️

charles_leclerc superb driving today! you should absolutely be proud. keep driving like that and it won't be long until we'll be sharing the track every week @.olliebearman Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman ⤷ carlossainz55 no doubt about it!

lewishamilton amazing job today kid 💜 leclerclove The way the old photos are in black and white and the photos from the weekend are in colour like it's a new era 😭 ⤷ smoothoperatorrr omg I didn't think of that 😭😭 ⤷ charleswifeyyyy The childhood pictures are so fucking cute too 😭

landonorris great results today! can't wait to see what you do in the future! ferrariiiii "I love you to the end of the line" AS IN THE FINISH LINE?! ⤷ f1fan STOP OH MY GOD 😭😭😭 carlossssainzzz I'm not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a baby reading this post 🥹 like it's so clear that they love and support one another ⤷ scuderiaferrari we're crying too! 🥹❤️ Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman

f1fannnn all the drivers commenting their support and congratulations 😭

fanoferrari "this is just the beginning" I-🥹😭 ⤷ olsbearmannn "you make me proud every day"

maxverstappen1 An amazing drive mate!

still working on requests but i suddenly remembered that this post exists and immediately wanted needed to write touch-starved astarion. hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did!

a fervor, a sweet (astarion x gender neutral!reader, baldur’s gate 3)

As thrilled as he is to be free of Cazador’s control, Astarion could do without the constant need for blood.

Deer and boar just aren’t cutting it these days, not when he’s expected to fight goblins or harpies or whatever other damnable creature whose midsts you keep gallivanting into. 

Which is why he’s using all of his roguish tricks to approach your sleeping form without notice, intent on nicking a few mouthfuls from your throat before you wake. Nothing outlandish - just a little nibble, enough to keep him going. Keep him strong. 

Of course you wake just as he’s kneeling down with fangs bared. Of course. Astarion is quick to explain himself, wary of a stake through the ribs, but you’re surprisingly amenable to having a vampire in your midsts. 

You’re surprisingly amenable to many things, actually, including offering him the blood he so desperately needs. 

Are you that trusting, he wonders. Or that naive? 

Either way, Astarion has learned never to look a gift horse in the mouth. He urges you to get comfortable and then dives into his first real meal in centuries, nearly sighing as the sweetness of your blood spills over his tongue.

It’s splendid, the taste of your blood thick in the back of his throat. He’s never tasted anything like it, never felt anything like it, the sheer rapturous joy of giving his body what it needs, and to have your blood be offered so willingly only seems to add to the euphoria of the experience. Gods, but he could spend ages buried in your throat.

He’s lost in a pleasurable half-state, numb to everything but your blood coating his tongue, and so he almost doesn’t notice your arm rising, not until your hand has settled on the back of his head. Disappointment curdles in his gut; you’re about to push him away and that, as they say, will be that. Ah well. It had been generous enough of you to offer this much. 

But you don’t push him off. Your fingers are moving, yes, but not in an attempt to dislodge him. You’re simply… touching him. Pushing wayward curls into place, trying to tame his hair into some semblance of order, no small feat considering how mussed it’s become from his journey through the nautiloid ship and days in the wilderness with you and the motley crew you’ve gathered. 

You’re careful about it, gentle. Astarion - well, he doesn’t quite know what to do in response. Even the sweetness of your blood fails to distract from the soft sensation of your fingers carding through his curls. 

Even as they slow to a stop atop the crown of his head, Astarion can do little but stare blankly at the skin of your throat, nearly forgetting to swallow his mouthful. And then you pat his head, your palm gentle to avoid mussing up the job you’d just completed on his hair, and Astarion is so surprised he lets go immediately. 

“Ah, that will be all, I think,” he murmurs, unable to discern if the warmth in his chest is from the meal he’d just indulged in or the way your fingers had felt combing through his curls. Either way, it would be a good idea to leave, now, lest he do something foolish.

He feels your eyes on his back as he walks - walks, not runs - away. He feels them for even longer after that, a gentle weight across his shoulders that fails to dissipate even as he gorges himself on boar and deer in the dark of the night.  

*

The camp is awash in celebration - Halsin has been rescued, the Druid ritual halted, and the goblin scourge destroyed. Merriment flows in the form of drink and song, and everywhere Astarion looks there is joy to be found on faces both familiar and not. 

He searches for you, certain that this night will allow him the perfect opportunity to strengthen your bond. You’re already charmed by him - but then, who wouldn’t be, with all of his talents? - and a night together would serve to secure his place by your side, secure his safety. His freedom.

He’s stopped multiple times by inebriated tieflings, all eager to give him thanks for his part in the goblin massacre. One pushes a bottle of too-sharp smelling wine into his arms, and bereft of any other choice, Astarion accepts the bounty with a pasted-on smile.

Surely you’re the one they should be fawning over, he thinks, taking a pull of the wine and grimacing at its taste. It should be you in the midst of this celebration, being plied with trinkets and tasteless wine and heralded as the hero you are.

And yet - 

“You do realize you’re the guest of honor, don’t you?” he questions, unable to contain the curl of his lips when you shoot him a startled glance. Apparently you hadn’t expected anyone to find you in this little hidey hole, tucked behind an outcropping of rock with the newest acquisition to your group nestled against your knee. The owlbear has its head resting on your thigh, cooing gently as your fingers stroke along its crown. 

“Are they asking for me?” Your voice is hushed, the faintest hint of a slur to your words, and Astarion huffs a laugh. He wasn’t the only recipient of subpar wine, it seems. 

“Not yet.” He approaches you and your little shadow, grateful that the owlbear cub seems more preoccupied with your fingers than turning those sharp claws onto him. “But they’ll come calling eventually. Why are you hiding?”

“I’m not!” you insist, though your words lack much conviction. “I’m simply - recovering. From the wine.”

Astarion smirks, taking a seat beside you. “From the adoration, you mean.”

You huff a breath, your fingers scratching lightly between the owlbear’s ears. “That, too,” you admit quietly. 

“The life of a hero not quite what you expected?” You’d taken to it like you were born to do so, never failing to offer your aid to any poor soul in need. Yet the grimace that twists your lips speaks of a keen dissatisfaction with the moniker. Interesting. 

“I’m not a hero - “ you start, only to falter at the placid look Astarion gives you. You huff out a breath. “Just because I enjoy helping people doesn’t mean I’m entirely comfortable with all the fanfare that comes with it.”

“Understandable.” Astarion leans back on his palms, idly listening to the tiefling bard’s song as it filters through camp. “Surprising, but understandable.”

Your brows climb. “Why is that surprising?” 

“Oh, come now,” he teases. “Isn’t half the fun of playing hero the praise and accolades that come after?”

You shake your head, a soft laugh bubbling from within your throat. It’s a pleasant sound. “I’d rather be giving the praise than receiving it,” you confess. The owlbear chirps as though in agreement and you take to cupping its plump cheeks in your palms, an affectionate glint in your eye. “Yes, you understand, don’t you, my brave little one?” Your fingers scritch gently through the owlbear’s feathers and the creature purrs, a rumble that Astarion can nearly feel in the soles of his feet.

You shoot a triumphant glance his way. “See? Much better.”

“Well, as long as you’re doling out praise,” he murmurs expectantly, some small part of him wondering why in the hells he’d decided to say such a thing and swiftly laying the blame for his loosened tongue on the awful wine. 

A look of surprise passes over your face before it’s swiftly replaced by an expression that Astarion can only define as fond. He should be thrilled about that - he’d set out to charm you to his side during your first meeting, after all, and here before him was the proof that his machinations were working. He waits for the satisfaction to spill through his veins, the joy of a job well done, but instead all he truly feels is… warmth. 

Warmth and the callused pads of your fingertips settling gently against his cheeks. He blinks in surprise at the unexpected touch, mutely staring as your eyes track his face and your lips tilt into a soft smile.

“You were very brave, too, Astarion,” you croon, in much the same tone as the words you’d cooed to the owlbear, and despite himself, Astarion feels a hot flush work its way down his chest. 

“Really now, darling,” he begins, adopting a lofty tone to distract from the shock of his own body’s reaction to your words. 

“Fierce as well,” you continue undeterred. “Cunning and swift. Utterly brilliant.” Your palms gently squeeze at his cheeks in much the same way you had just been handling the owlbear. That bit should offend him, probably - he isn’t some beast to be swayed by pretty words - but the expression on your face serves to soothe his ego well enough.

You’ve a mind for deception when the situation calls for it, but the wine and general merriment of the evening seem to have stripped you of all but sheer sincerity. You mean what you say. 

“Well, I - “ Astarion struggles for words - a first for him, in all truth. Perhaps the wine has addled his mind, too, for the only thought he seems capable of is how nice it might feel to slump against your hold, allowing you to be all that holds him aloft in the world. 

The owlbear trills between you, the call enough to distract you. Your hands slip from Astarion’s face and for reasons he chooses not to study too closely, it takes a valiant effort for the vampire not to snatch them back up again. 

That, he reasons, is his cue to leave, and with a swift farewell and a promise not to rat out your hiding place to the rest of the revelers, he goes. 

It doesn’t strike Astarion until he’s back within the safety of his own tent that his plans for the evening - to seduce you into his bed and bolster your growing bond - had been completely waylaid. He should be furious with himself, and he waits for the bitter sting of disappointment to settle on his tongue - 

But it doesn’t.

Strange.

*

Camp is mostly silent when Astarion returns from his late night feeding, though you appear to still be awake, nestled on a log by the fire and staring silently into the depths of the flames. 

He debates bypassing you entirely but that feels too much like retreating. The night of the tiefling’s celebration remains fresh in his mind, his body’s increasingly confusing reactions to your touch stalling his feet, but Astarion is no coward. 

In truth, you look so lost in thought that he could have passed you completely uncontested, and he might have tried his luck, if only he weren’t so sure that he himself was the source of your turmoil. 

The Gur hunter had been a nasty little surprise. Astarion had given little thought to the possibility of Cazador sending someone after him, or perhaps he’d always known it was an inevitability and merely elected not to give credence to the thought. A folly on his part, to be sure. He would have to be much more vigilant in future.

“Don’t tell me you were waiting up for me,” he quips, taking no small amount of pleasure in your startled expression as he settles onto the log beside you. 

You open your mouth - perhaps to deny his accusation - but seem to sense the futility of such a claim. 

“We can’t be certain that Gandrel was working alone,” you say, turning your gaze once more to the flames. “I felt better, waiting.”

“Ah,” Astarion murmurs. You were concerned for him, then. He’d known as much - even after dispatching of the hunter and facing down the hag afterward, you had refused to rest until the party was well beyond the borders of the swamp. A blessing, really, considering the stench of the place, but even Lae’zel and Wyll had raised a brow at your haste. 

Silence falls between you for a moment, slightly awkward but also strangely comfortable, heavy with words unsaid. You look fit to bursting, however; Astarion can feel your gaze darting to him when you feel he isn’t aware, and he resists the urge to smile. He has centuries on you - he can be patient. 

“Your arm?” There it is, your voice deceptively light when you finally speak.

Astarion huffs. Was that what had worried you so?

“It was only a flesh wound, pet.” The Gur’s arrow had sliced a furrow into his forearm, leaving behind a stinging, bloody mess, but it was nothing a few mouthfuls of blood couldn’t fix. 

You nod jerkily, brows furrowing. “I know,” you mutter, though you don’t sound entirely convinced.

Astarion sighs, though even he can hear the fond exasperation in it. “See for yourself,” he says, holding his bare arm out for your perusal.

The skin is pale, unmarred, as though the wound had never been inflicted at all. He expects the silent look of awe that passes over your face; he even expects the relief, though the vulnerability of the expression - the proof that you’ve grown to care for him - is enough to make him second guess his earlier decision to approach you.

He’s not expecting your fingers, roughened at the tips with calluses from wielding your weapon, to wrap gingerly around his arm.

Astarion goes still, watching as you study the offending limb with far more intensity than it deserves. Your nails drag lightly over the stretch of skin where the arrow had struck, leaving a tingling sensation behind in their wake. 

He’s rocketed back to the night you’d first offered your blood to him, to the moment during the tiefling’s celebration when you’d gathered his face in your hands and touted him brave. He’s freshly fed and pleasantly full, but the warmth in his belly has little to do with blood.

It’s you.

It’s you and this damnable urge you seem to have to touch him - his hair, his face, his body, all seemingly without thought, without sexual intent, without cruelty.

When had such a touch ever been bestowed upon him? Before his death, certainly. Before Cazador. 

The thought roars through him like a wailing beast. 

Why are you doing this? Why do you care?

Why does Astarion never want you to stop?

“I’m glad there was no lasting damage,” you murmur, your hands curled loosely around his arm. You’ve no intention of letting him go anytime soon, it seems, but that’s alright. That lost, fretful look has vanished from your face, leaving behind sweet relief and a small, lopsided smile.

Astarion wants to taste it, to feel the texture and give of your mouth against his. Not to manipulate, not to coax you into bed, but simply because he wants to.

Gods above, he actually wants.

*

He carries the feeling, for a time. 

The want, the need. The ache.

It builds and it builds, a sweet desperation that he’s never quite felt before, until eventually even Astarion’s centuries-born patience runs reed thin. 

The Elfsong Tavern comes as a welcome respite after spending weeks in the wilderness. The entire upper floor is yours, and even Lae’zel seems more approachable after a few nights spent in the comfort of a real bed - much as she may hiss when Astarion tells her so.

A confrontation with Cazador lies just around the corner, a looming threat that hangs over all of your heads. You’re strong - stronger than Astarion had ever thought possible - but there’s a very real chance that none of you will see the light of day again after you breach his stronghold.  

If this is to be his last night on earth, Astarion reasons as he comes to a halt outside your door and raises a hand to rap at the wood, then he’ll be damned if he spends it without the comfort of your touch. 

You call for him to enter, and at his first glance of you, his resolve firms. You’ve discarded your armor, clad in loose clothing that makes you look soft, open. 

The urge to tease, to pester and charm disappears. Astarion climbs atop your bed, settles himself at your side, and for the first time in recent memory, asks for something he actually wants.

“Touch me?” 

Your brows jump, mouth parting on a slow, sharp breath. You set aside the tome you’d been reading, eyes searching his own. He half-expects you to question him, to gently urge him from your room. 

But you don’t.

Your palms are warm against his jaw, your touch tentative, exploratory, until Astarion sighs and sinks against you. 

You murmur his name, your voice soft, full of surprise, of wonder. 

“Please,” he whispers, and you laugh, a soft, shaky thing, disbelieving, awestruck. Fond. 

You thumb at his cheekbone, drag your nails along his jaw, trace the bow of his lips until he’s gasping for breath, a fire sparking in his blood. Your fingers shift gently through his hair, and then firm within his curls whenever he releases a low, trembling moan. 

Each touch you bestow upon him is a solar flare, blinding, brilliant, hot: your hands stroking over the crown of his head, dragging through the short curls at his nape, scratching lightly over his throat, his shoulders, his waist. 

His chin falls to your shoulder as your palms spread out along his back, dragging a trail of fire down the length of his spine. He presses his lips against your throat and bites out your name, warm and wanting, and you croon against his ear, nonsense words interspersed with his name. The scent of your own desire, your skin, your need is a heady concoction, making his head spin and his fangs ache. Thoughts of the parasite, the Absolute, Cazador - they all fade to the back of his mind, unimportant, insignificant to the heat of your hands upon his skin.

“Don’t stop.” It’s a desperate order, his voice gravel, his blood afire. His buries his hands beneath your tunic, feels your body shake as tremulously as his own, and knows in that moment that he could never let you go. 

“I won’t.” Your voice is a balm, a declaration, a vow. You press your lips to his brow and say it again, the cadence of the words sinking deep, taking hold, stronger than Cazador’s cruelty and the parasite’s hunger and everything else that you’ve yet to face. 

It should be terrifying - it is terrifying, but Astarion has long grown accustomed to fear.

He'll welcome this one with open arms.

I will have your heart.

cr:ThisUserIsAngry on Twitter.

Talk Your Sh*t - Jenson Button

Summary: After a new commentator joins the Sky Sports team, Jenson and her bond over a dislike of Danica when they come to Miami.

Age gap - Mid-20s/black cat!reader

Warning: Mild themes of misogyny within F1/media

No part 2 requests please

Jenson wasn't sure if y/n was brought in to purposely get under Danica's skin the way Danica gets under his skin. But it's safe to say the public has deemed Jenson and y/n the sex appeal of watching Sky Sports.

Y/n is actually very knowledgable on the sport and with the exception of Danica, gets along very well with the team.

"Sorry, I think I'm going to have to disagree with you, Danica." Y/n states as what has become now a famous line of the weekend and it's still only Friday.

Jenson has already begun to find himself smiling every time y/n speaks while not being able hide his grimace whenever Danica speaks.

They cut the segment and before the group can divide, Danica seems to have hit a boiling point with y/n.

"I'm surprised you're getting away with wearing the outfits you do. They're quite skimpy. What are you trying to attract some of the drivers?" Danica comments seeming to try and make it a joke but y/n frowns not hiding her offended reaction while Jenson goes to speak in the young woman's defence. But y/n beats him to it.

"What about my outfit is skimpy exactly?-Actually, don't answer that. Consider this strike 1, 2 more strikes and I'll take you straight to HR, your hand in mine and I'll have you repeat every out of line comment you've opened your mouth to make." Y/n states then scoffing. "And for the record, if I was trying to attract the drivers. You'd know about it."

That's true. If y/n set her eyes on a driver, Jenson is pretty sure she could have her pick. Maybe of even a couple of the drivers who are in a relationship.

Really her outfit isn't skimpy, she's wearing almost an outfit that's mourning-worthy. Black heels, tight and sort of a short skirt with a slightly oversized blazer with a white blouse under the blazer. Truth be told, the appeal of her is more than she's a gorgeous woman who dresses well, is young and looks good on tv. She's styled well, she's confident, and not afraid to share her opinions which do tend to disagree with Danica but they're well founded opinions.

Y/n is minimal and classy with an undertone of sexiness that might be easy to be distract by.

Today she's wearing full black tights but yesterday something that had every mans attention was stockings with ever so slightly visibly suspenders that were clipped on to keep her stockings up.

Carlos, Lando, Pierre and Logan were all caught in HD slow-mo staring and doing double takes of the young woman.

Danica seems to get the hint that her presence isn't wanted so she takes off and y/n scoffs rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"Remind me to never cross you." Jenson comments making y/n turn and smile.

"I don't think you'd have the audacity to make a comment like that unprovoked." Y/n sighs before she smiles at him. "I don't think I've earned a spot in your bad books yet, have I?"

"No. No. I think you might be my favourite person to work with already." Jenson smiles watching her seem to get a little flustered at his words. "Wait, was that a crack in the confidence that I seen?"

"I-As if." Y/n scoffs in a quick recovery, shaking it off quickly.

"You hungry? We should grab some food before we're pulled into more recording." Jenson states making y/n smile and nod.

Sitting down together, y/n does gain some attention from other commentators from other broadcasters. But eventually the two are left on their own and y/n sighs deciding to speak of the elephant in the room.

"You know, you should try masking your expression when Danica speaks. Especially if you're going to look so happy whenever someone else is speaking." Y/n comments leaning back in her seat as she cross on leg over the other making her skirt slide up a little. Something he shouldn't notice but he does and he has to force his gaze away. This woman is nearly 20 years younger than him. He can't be the old perv who has wondering eyes.

And for some reason there's something in Jenson wishing she was wearing the stocking and suspender duo for the outfit today.

"I am happier whenever someone else is speaking." Jenson states honestly then shrugging. "I don't even know why they've still got her here when they've brought you in. You add much more to the conversation and you look good doing it."

Y/n doesn't say much back, just looking down with a small smirk before she shrugs a little.

"So humble." Jenson laughs while she finally looks up then clears her throat as her phone goes off.

"Oh...Fun. Apparently I'm being paired with Danica for more stuff-oh haha! You are too." Y/n grins watching the man look at her with a grin.

"I'll just stand and watch the two of you bicker."

"I'm not that bad."

"You've said the sentence sorry, I think I'm going to have to disagree with you, Danica at least 5 times since yesterday and we've not been on air that much." Jenson laughs while she grins at the man before placing her phone back down and picking up a chip from her plate.

"I'm not that bad...I just think it's important we all voice our opinion if it's not on the same understanding." Y/n smiles earning a look form Jenson while she just flashes her a teeth in a smile.

-

Y/n and Jenson eating meals together in the paddock and just sort of gluing themselves to one another was beginning to be a habit for the two and it was a habit others were beginning to notice.

"Wait, wait. Don't leave me." Y/n gasps when the cameras cut and Jenson seems to take off since she'd said something that disagreed with him only slightly. "Jenson..."

Now she's just doing it on purpose. Whining his name has an unnecessary effect.

"I'm sorry." Y/n pouts making him slow his fast pace away. He wasn't really mad but he did maybe just want to tear him. "You left me with Danica."

"Consider it payback." Jenson states as he turns finding her looking up at him as they stand face to face.

"I'm sorry." Y/n pouts again and it takes every fibre of Jenson's being to maintain the self control not to close the space between them.

He feels like a teenager with a crush. He's a grown man for fuck sake and this woman is making him melt.

"You're forgiven." Jenson declares making her perk up and damn her because the brightness in her eyes actually makes his heart skip a beat.

"Are we intruding?" A sly smiling Lando questions as he passes by making y/n flush stepping away.

Truth be told, y/n is more successfully hiding an unshaken childhood crush on Jenson. She's be fighting the urge to climb on the man any time he sits down.

No doubt he sees her as a child, probably a mentor and mentee situation. Not that that's what she's going for.

Lando has already disappeared since he really was passing by and making a comment which he thinks needed to be made to point out that everyone is beginning to notice the tension between them.

Suddenly it dawns on y/n and she decides it's time to stop being shy about it.

"So what are you doing tonight?" Y/n asks making Jenson literally do a double take looking very shocked. "Just...usually I do nothing but go back to my hotel room and do nothing."

"Are you...asking me on a date, y/n y/l/n?" Jenson smirks looking like the playboy that he's quite famous for in his only slightly younger years.

"Would you...say yes if it was a date?" Y/n mumbles feeling the drop in her confidence because she wasn't exactly expecting him to call her out so obviously, or loudly.

"Yes."

Oh thank fuck.

"Then yes."

-

Y/n likes to think that she's got quite a dark feminine energy, she's not the doe eyed golden retriever type of girl. She's the siren eyes black cat.

But on a date with Jenson he's described her as cute and funny and even made a comment about her adding light to the otherwise dim room. He's charming and certainly knows how to converse on a date.

"So I have to know, when did I become so irresistible that you had to ask me on a date?" Jenson asks, the teasing mischief behind his eyes making her flush. This man just brings out a side she wishes she could hide but it's no use with him.

"Just living the dream. Meeting you was the whole goal when I decided to pursue sports journalism." Y/n shrugs making Jenson smirk. "Don't get cocky. I could still team up against you with Danica."

"That's a lie." Jenson laughs shaking his head while y/n grin at him.

"Ok, maybe that is a lie. I don't think I could ever try to befriend her. The amount of fans who call me out online and say they would do what I do." Y/n shrugs then picking up her glass of pink gin and lemonade.

"I love it. I think you are the best commentator we've had added to the team in years." Jenson shrugs making her beam at him. "I'll be pushing for them to keep you. Even if they drop me."

"As if they'd choose to drop Jenson Button, F1 world champion 2009 from the team." Y/n jokes before sighing and smiling as she sits back in her seat. "I think I dreamt about having a date like this for years."

"Here I am, making dreams come true." Jenson hums earning a laugh. "I would return the gesture but you're not an F1 champion."

"Wow...That's a violation. My feelings are hurt now."

"Oh sounds like I've got some grovelling to do."

-

There was no hints throughout the weekend, Jenson and y/n silently agreed to sort of take things slowly. Which is exactly what they did. They took things slowly and after a couple months of dating and building the perfect dynamic, which was really built after the first date.

Y/n decided it was time for a soft launch ahead of COTA.

She chose a mirror selfie what hide his face but there was definitely enough on show that it wasn't exactly a hard to tell it was Jenson.

Her comments were a blaze with his name and even a couple drivers along with many within F1 sent her messages some asking flat out and some just question marks searching for answers.

But she didn't reply and only decided to let their entrance in the paddock speak for itself.

Jenson quite enjoys the fact he is openly able to somewhat lay his claim. Y/n is a woman who could have her pick of people, and while people can say he's a man who can have his pick too. His pick was y/n and there was a chance she might not have reciprocated it.

Y/n definitely isn't expecting the very public kiss with one hand up cupping her face but Jenson feels her smiling against his lips and her face is definitely heating up under his hand.

"Well if I didn't send a message, you just hard launched a confirmation." Y/n whispers breaking the kiss while Jenson grins down at her.

"Can't I kiss you when you look so good?"

"Oh so usually I don't look good?" Y/n teases earning a groan a little.

"Trust you to twist my words." Jenson laughs then pecking her lips again. "You look good everyday. That's why I've been kissing your everyday."

"Mmm...good recovery."

"I try." Jenson smirks making her laugh before she steals a kiss this time then spins, linking their hands and beginning to walk very confidently through the paddock. Though they come across Martin, Danica and Crofty, all of whom look surprised to say the least.

After a small conversation, of which none of them address the obvious till Danica does pipe up. Unable to keep a petty comment to herself.

"You weren't wrong, we really do know when you're trying to attract someone."

"Well...I'm doing a bit more than attract Jenson." Y/n shoots back smoothly while Jenson looks at her fairly proudly and smug. "But I'm glad you can pick up on it. I know sometimes you struggle with seeing the obvious when it's right in front of you."

Martin and Crofty both pull expressions that are a combination of shock and maybe mildly impressed.

"Anyway, we're going to grab lunch. See you guys later for the broadcast."

inarazaki fic recs!

miya atsumu

espresso and pancakes by @wordswithinmoments​

warnings: none

if someone were to ask you what your favorite part about the twenty-four hour library was, you’d probably lie and make up a reason on the spot. but really, you have to admit that sakusa kiyoomi was clearly a silver lining in those late night trips to the library.

in which your daughter says her first words by @agaassi​ 

warnings: none 

how to start your day by @miyatsusamu​

warnings: none

miya atsumu has a morning habit that he’d never [want to] change in his entire life.

homesick by @samuthots​ (ongoing mixed media series) 

warnings: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there. dad!atsumuxmom!reader; Atsumu doesn’t know, six years timeskip! dearest daddy universe!

six years ago, l/n y/n wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. it had always been problematic but her best friend, miya atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. however, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? will she be able to confront her demons? 

perfect union by @bleedinqhearts​ (one-shot)

warnings: cursing, explicit nsfw content (towards the end, easily skippable)

five times atsumu suggested getting married + the one time he actually proposes.

atsumu sees you in a dress by @mammonrights​ (one-shot)

warnings: spanking, hair pulling, deepthroat, slight orgasm denial/teasing, a little breeding because i cant help myself, idk its smut 

cherry cola by @tobiosmilktea​

warnings: none

in which you find your best friend, atsumu, passed out on your balcony after a party the night before. now you’re giving him a wake up call with a cherry cola and a confession 

who miya atsumu really is by @dreamykou​ (one-shot)

warnings: light angsty feelings

love is only a feeling by @msbyslut​​ (one-shot)

warnings: drug use, sex while under the influence, dirty talk, oral (f.recieving, mentions of m.receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstim

getting high and having some of the best sex of your life with your boyfriend, atsumu. because that’s what we all deserve.

backseat serenade by @msbyslut​ (one-shot)

warnings: filth, ATSUMUyes he deserves a warning, car sex but not really, fem!reader, light choking, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, v light overstim

teasing atsumu is always interesting.

Keep reading

Hiii

So....

Country Levi AS a little league coach!!

He would be so good at looking after the kids. You'd provide the orange slices and drink. Levi would be so encouraging to the little ones. If they get hurt, he'd clean them and give them first aid treatment. They'd give him hugs and thank him. They'd say at school that Mr Ackerman is their hero 💕

He'd love the little uniforms and would stay up into the night sewing some things on them. You'd sleepily check on him, then help him out a bit because he's so excited about their next game.

He'd be so damn proud when his team wins. Levi isn't pushy, he's all about helping them and pushing them, but having fun is important!

Best part would be him hitting some balls if he's a baseball coach and seeing the kids light up in pure happiness at him hitting the balls very far away.

Jelly hello! This is SO cute and even if you don't know much about baseball how could you not want to help him help the kids?

Modern country Levi would love sports! Maybe not watching them a lot, but playing them! And after you volunteer at the local grade school and here of the budget cuts that include some of the outdoor activities, when you tell Levi about this he has a plan and gets to it!

Boys and girls are welcome, it's okay if they're not great as long as they practice and try, because they'll get better with hard work!

They love seeing you come with him because your snacks are the best! Nice refreshing orange or peach slices, watermelon, cold water. After you find out if any kid has any allergies you put together safe trail mix bags too. Plus sometimes baked goods like cookies or cupcakes. All the sweet "thanks Mrs Ackerman!" has you head over heels in love with all of them and your husband! If they try to rush off with food in their mouth you call out to them to slow down because you won't risk them accidently falling and it's not something they think about.

During practice if one of the kids tries to slide into home and falls a little too hard or someone misses a ball and gets bumped with it instead, Levi always makes everyone take a break to check in with them. First aid kits are always handy and Levi smiles when he sees you've refilled it with colorful tape and superhero band-aids. The kid gets their choice of color and pat on the back. "You did good, but he careful, yeah? Can't have you covered in pink tape." He jokes with them. If you are able to be there and watch you are right there with him helping the kid clean up and dry any tears. "Listen to your coach, he's always got your best in mind." You pass out water bottles and make sure everyone is hydrated and give an extra apple slice to your patient. You suddenly get a hug and have barely pulled away when Levi gets one too. It makes you soft seeing his smile as the kid gets back out there to try again thanks to his encouragement.

Back to those cupcakes? You are all about helping Levi earn money for equipment and uniforms. Bake sales it is! Levi is up with you helping make everything and the next day the kids sit outside busy places to ask passerbys for contributions. They would donate anyway but now that these delicious sweets are involved the kids raise more money then needed. You and Levi are sitting close by keeping an eye on things telling them what a good job they're doing, again handing out water bottles if it's getting to warm and having the kids take turns sitting in the shade with you if it's sunny. You always make extra cupcakes because it's easy to sell out, and this way they can take home any extras, which they love!

Once all the materials come in to make uniforms you're up late with Levi sewing the team name "Scouts" on the front with last names on the back. When you yawn Levi suggests you go to bed. "It's my project really. You've done so much, go to bed."

But you shake your head. You won't hear of it. "You might be the coach but as Mrs coach it is my duty and my right to be tired in the morning to make sure these get done." Levi grins and stops to come over and kiss you and soon you have to gently push him away because otherwise no more uniforms would get personalized tonight.

The kids get so excited at seeing their uniforms for the first time and cheer when you and Levi put yours on as well. They all have shiny new helmets and both you and Levi have a coaches cap. Their parents have all chipped in too so all the kids have new running shoes and extra bats and balls. Everything is coming together nicely!

And Levi is all about the team aspect of the game and having each others backs. And though he likes to win it's not the most important. But that won't stop him from getting excited and jumping up and down with you when one of the kids steals a base or one that kept having trouble hitting the ball gets a good enough one to get to first, and the one that fell trying to slide, now gets the game winner on the same type of play.

Hugs and cheers all around, hoisting kids up on shoulders! But even when they win Levi keeps it quick so they can form a line and show good sportsmenship and shake the other teams hands and tell them good job.

"Quite a team you have here coach." Says coach Smith from the next town over. "Couldn't do it without her." Levi points over to you, while you are telling the kids from coach Smiths team "good game, you played great!"

"Care for a rematch?" He'd play against Levis kids anytime who have been so polite and respectful. "Sure! Maybe we can have a practice one day!"

And then it's off to get pizza and ice cream and the kids form a line to get temporary tattoos and you and Levi put on matching ones too, and everyone takes a group photo, both in their uniforms and later on without hats while you're all celebrating. They want you in there too!

All the kids and parents chip in to get you and Levi something nice as a thank you and put in notes showing their gratitude and you're a sobbing mess and Levi proudly displays the special "words best coach" trophy on his desk.

And when you rent a bus to take a day trip to go play with Coach Smiths team, all the kids insist he and Levi throw and bat against each other and and thrilled at seeing how fast they run and how hard they hit. Everyone tells you to get in there too and while you're not the best, you've learned a thing or two and get a hit in. It's not exactly a homerun like the coaches have been getting, but the kids cheer just as loud at seeing Mrs Ackerman play.

And as you're handing out snacks to both teams members and you're getting twice as many thanks as usual, Levi speaks to Coach Smith about forming an adult team as well.

"Only is she's coach and makes us cookies." Erwin jokes about you. But, jokes on him because you are happy to do not only this, but introduce him to a friend who could just wind up becoming Mrs Smith.

Can you imagine an adorable baseball themed wedding with you and Levi in the wedding party? And everyone playing a quick game in their reception outfits with the kids now present before seeing the new happy couple off on their honeymoon.

In the years that follow as the kids get older and you and Levi welcome new kids, the other ones never forget those years with you two and always come back to visit.

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

"Hi, my name's Nico!"

pairing: platonic!nico di angelo x older sister reader

summary: you found your pugsley addams

warnings: brief mention of injury, grieving a family member

category: one-shot but not really

a/n: this is probably awful but do i need to fulfil my big sister urge to protect our beloved nico? yes. yes i do. i got this idea listening to Here With Me by d4vd, if you want something to listen while reading <3

“Hi, my name is Nico!”

Tousled dark brown hair, big brown eyes, a toothless grin, and a squeaky voice. Strangely, he doesn’t cower at your eyes, sizing him up. Either he doesn’t care or he’s clueless to your judgment. You're sure it’s the latter. 

How could this tiny boy, with too much life in his eyes, and too much excitement in his voice be a child of Hades? Considering your father’s exciting track record with children, this wasn’t what you were expecting when Chiron mentioned you had a brother moving in soon.

He’s just so… lively. 

The blinding daylight outside poured through your agape curtains and it surrounded his small frame like a giant halo. 

The sight was violent.

It gave you a headache. 

“What’s your name?” He waits antsy for your answer and you debate on even giving him one. 

Father told you he didn’t have any living children besides you. Considering the boy in front of you, it was a lie, or he had forgotten about him. Either way, you plan on arguing about it later. 

How dare he give you a roommate. Let alone a roommate barely in the double digits. This boy could have a tantrum today, and you didn’t sign up for babysitting.

“My side.” Your fingers point to the left of the cabin which is furnished with a bed, shelves, a desk, and a nightstand you got shipped to camp. “Your side.” 

Lazily, you point to the right. The lone bunk bed that initially occupied the space is tucked there, ready for the roommate you never thought would arrive. 

After three years, you had debated on getting rid of it, maybe donating it to the Hermes cabin. Gods know they need it but you guess keeping it was the right choice. 

“Inside voice only. No laughing, no whining, no groaning, no screaming, and especially, no crying.” 

The boy’s face falters into a slight frown. Your unblinking, emotionless face had settled into his awareness. For the first time since he’s arrived, he looks down at his feet. “Okay.” 

Your vision follows his movements as the boy retreats to his side of the room. His suitcase drags across the floor, making a wretched sound and it shoots irritation straight into your chest. 

Harsh words threaten to spill from your lips but they get caught at the back of your throat.

At least he’s compliant, you consider. Better bubbly and compliant than bubbly and stubborn. 

★・・・・・・★

“Psst.”

Did you imagine it? The sound was so faint and quick, you weren’t sure if it even happened. 

Voices in passing weren’t foreign to you. The occasional energy likes to linger around. 

If it was that, you refused to spare a single movement to signal you heard anything at all. A bothersome ghost wasn’t really in your plans tonight. 

There wasn’t a twitch in your face or a pause in your breathing that gave you away. And as you do every night, you remain laid on your back, hands lightly folded and rested in the middle of your stomach. 

“PSST.” 

Great. 

The second time was filled with so much urgency you couldn’t conclude it as a trick of the ear. Suddenly, you’re filled with dread. And it wasn’t from the possibility that when opening your eyes, you may find an entity looming over you. Honestly, you wished that’s what you were expecting. At least then, you’d be more interested. 

But no, you knew the sound came from no one other than the pest who sleeps across the room. Even now, you are fully aware of his small presence beside your bed. 

You had to give him credit. At no point did you hear him approach.

A silent stride just like yours? Maybe you actually are related. 

“What?”

Nico tenses up, his hand flings back to his side. He was just questioning if you were even alive, judging from your barely rising chest. Not sure what to do after your lack of response, he thought giving you a little poke would get a reaction but from your tone just now, he was glad he didn’t get to test that out. “T-the statue…” Nico didn’t dare look over, gaze set on your blank face. “What about it?” “It blinked.” 

Nico rubs his sweaty palms on his pajama pants, feeling the looming presence of Hades's statue. 

The past few nights, while lying in his bed, he kept returning to the same conclusion. He couldn’t be the only one who thought sleeping in a room with a giant statue was kinda creepy. 

Sure, it was just stone, but at times, it felt like it was looking at him. He thought he was just imagining it at first. Bianca did say he had a habit of spooking himself out but it didn’t stop him from sleeping with the sheets over his head. 

Tonight, however, amongst the deliriousness of waking up, he made the mistake of looking over. His vision was hazy, but he was sure of what he saw. The statue had blinked. Clean and quick as if it was supposed to do that. It was more than he’s ever seen you blink, and he’s been with you for almost a week. 

“It does that sometimes.”  

“What?” Nico’s voice was laced with so much emotion you could imagine what face he was making. Behind your eyelids, you envisioned the scared face Mr. D made you identify recently in therapy. It was so comedic to you, you almost smiled. 

“Go back to sleep.” A whine immediately leaves Nico’s lips, and your hand moves up, arm bent at the elbow, your pointer finger in the air. “No whining.” “But—” “Still whining,” you point out, and Nico remains quiet for a moment. Taking consideration of his silent movements earlier, you assumed he retreated to bed, but as he cleared his throat, you wished you could roll your eyes with them closed. 

“I’m scared.”  

“And what do you want me to do about that?” 

“I don’t know. When I’m scared, my sister—” 

“I’m not your sister.” 

Nico frowns but remains in his spot unmoving. As the seconds passed, your awareness of his presence started to irk you.

“Ugh.” 

The tired glare on your face makes Nico cower, and you sling your legs to the side. Another sigh leaves you and you march over to his side of the room. He waits as you rip the fitted sheet from the top bunk and throw it over the statue. 

“There. Happy? He can’t stare at you if he can’t see you.” 

“Now it just looks like a ghost,” Nico shifts, fear still on his face.

There’s a smack as your palm meets your forehead. A child of Hades scared of a ghost? You were about to tell him to get used to it but before you can nag him an idea graces your mind. 

Quickly, you walk over to your desk, hands searching for a black marker. Once in your grasp, you drag a chair to the stone and stand on it. 

Two circles for the eyes and one smiling open mouth. 

Moving away to see your drawings, you decide it was a refreshing sight compared to the usually stoic face of the god. 

“Better?” you ask, tone still bored as you cap the marker.

Nico’s eyes light up, a smile growing wide on his face. Who would be scared of a happy ghost? He nods brightly, and you make your way down, eyes rolling at the entire situation. “Go to sleep,” you command, and Nico nods, more willing than he was a few minutes ago. As you both return to the covers, the boy glances across the room one more time. “Good night,” he calls, and you stare at him for a moment. 

He always says it despite you never saying it back. Under your gaze, he waits expectantly, but it never returns. Just as every night, you lie down without a word. 

★・・・・・・★

Capture the flag isn’t your cup of tea. 

In the summers, you never participated. The bright sun, the humidity, it all made you want to claw your skin off. 

Usually, you get out of it but Mr. D pointed out there was no reason not to participate since most of what you hate about it isn’t a problem this time of year. One comment from him and Chiron takes it upon himself to ensure you attend. 

You hated it. 

Forced to strategize with Thalia and Percy, you are reminded the weather wasn’t the only thing you despised. It was dealing with everyone else too.

"I'll take the offense," Thalia volunteered. "You take defense."

"Oh." Percy hesitated. "Don't you think with your shield and all, you'd be better defense?"

"Well, I was thinking it would make better offense," Thalia said. "Besides, you've had more

practice at defense. What do you think, Y/n?” 

Your gaze flickers between the two waiting expectantly for your opinion. 

The tension between them has been something else since they’ve come back from retrieving Nico and losing Annabeth in the process. It’s not like there wasn’t any tension before but right now, you can smell the power struggle and it stinks. 

“I don’t care. Argue amongst yourselves.” 

With that, you turn on your heels, looking for the boy who surprisingly isn’t standing behind you like a shadow. Your eyes search the crowd for a few seconds until you spot what looks like a pile of floating armor next to the Stoll’s. 

A small sigh leaves your lips. Whoever gave him that definitely is setting him up and judging by the poorly contained laughs of the Stoll’s, you can guess who’s rooting for Nico’s downfall. 

The boy, painfully unaware of this, just beams at you, too excited for the game ahead. Lazily, you make your way towards him and immediately, he’s bouncing happily, his mouth ready to bombard you with questions. 

Your palm rises before he could and he freezes, obeying your silent command. “You need to tighten that.” 

He looks down at himself, his helmet swinging down into his eyes and he struggles to pull it away. “Which part?” 

“All of it,” you snap. The sadness that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t have affected you but you straightened up, closing your eyes to recollect yourself. “We’ll get you better armor afterward.” 

Nico nods, gaze softening as you adjust the straps of his armor. You tug on them as much as you can, jerking the boy left to right with the movement. 

Once every strap couldn’t be tightened anymore, you step back to take a look. It didn’t do much but at least his plate is snug against his chest.

“Okay kid, stay out of the way and be careful with that thing.” Nico looks down at his sword, which is probably too heavy for him. “We need to get you another weapon too. Gods, who did your orientation?” 

Nico points over at the Stoll’s who are occupied with other campers. Sending a glare in their direction you huff, “Of course.” 

"Heroes!" Chiron calls, swiftly getting everyone’s attention. "You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team—Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis—red team—shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions!"

“Do I get magic items!?” Nico screeches causing you to cringe. Whipping your gaze in his direction, he cowers sheepishly, his eyes filled with hesitant apology.  “No. Remember what I said. Stay—” “Stay out of the way and be careful with my sword.” Nico finishes your sentence and he smiles at the evident distaste in your expression. 

Your eyes flicker along his frame. “And don’t get hurt.” 

★・・・・・・★

Nico, to no one’s surprise, got hurt. 

Honestly, you couldn’t be upset at him, it’s not his fault he got caught in a spell cast. 

A certain Circe camper did a fine job at missing her every target, leaving Nico standing in the outfield like a giant bullseye. The force alone sent him back a few feet and he slid across the field like a rag doll for a few more feet afterward.

As he lay there limp in shock, you genuinely thought he died. Before you could wield the ground to swallow up his attacker, he groaned and stumbled back on his feet. 

Lucky for her, disappointing for you. You haven’t gotten around to doing that trick in a while. 

“Well, you definitely have blunt force trauma injuries, everywhere,” Fletcher says, removing his hands from Nico’s abdomen. The boy reclined in the cot flinches at the bruises already forming along his ribs. 

It looked pretty bad. So much so that you decided it would be cruel to tell him to stop crying.

“But you don’t have internal bleeding in your lungs so at least you won’t drown in your own life source.” 

Despite the smile Fletcher flashes at Nico, it doesn’t affect the look of horror on his face. 

“Nothing Ambrosia and Nectar can’t fix. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Fletcher helps the small boy sit up in the cot. He passes him a small cup of Nectar and orders him to drink up while he gets what he needs for the sling Nico’s arm will be in for a little bit. 

A sniffle leaves the boy as he observes the drink he’s left with. “What does it taste like?” “It depends on the person,” you sit back in your chair. “Usually tastes like something nostalgic, a favorite food or drink. You won’t know until you try it.” 

Nico nods, hesitantly taking a sip. As the flavors settle on his tongue, his eyes progressively widen. Next thing you know, he’s swallowing it like he hasn’t had a meal in days. 

“It tastes like the almond cookies they had at the Lotus Casino!” 

You nod in response, having some memory of Nico telling you about the Casino he and his sister lived at for a while. He’s told you plenty about it, you just weren’t listening most of the time. 

“I liked those the most because it reminded me of the cookies my mom would buy us.” 

Nico looks down at the cup, his smile faltering by the second. There’s a shadow clouding over his orbs and you quirk an eyebrow. The sadness overtaking his features looked strange. Sure you’ve seen him upset but you knew enough to recognize this expression as anguish. 

“What is it?” Your words came out more monotone than you intended. Shifting in your seat, you wondered why you even asked. Vulnerability wasn’t really something you sought after. It puts a bad taste in your mouth. 

“I was just wondering if Bianca would taste the same thing… but she never ate the cookies with me.” 

A hum leaves your lips. You don’t know much about that sister of his but you knew two things: first, you were here while he was hurt and she wasn’t. Second, her absence made Nico upset. 

“I understand.” Your vision is set on the small window beside you. Set on the fields of campers ahead, you ignore Nico’s burning stare. “I don’t like the taste of my nectar or ambrosia.” “Why?” “The flavors remind me too much of things I want to forget. Your sister probably didn’t eat those cookies for the same reason. It’s too much. Too many things tied to the things you like the most.” 

Nico’s silent, staring at the paper cup in his hands as if he was searching for something. 

“Nico, there’s one thing you need to know.” He averts his gaze over to you. “You’ll make friends, you’ll have lovers, you’ll have family but at the end of the day, the only person you truly have is yourself.” 

The boy shifts in his place, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t let people steal parts of yourself from you. They’re going to disappoint you, expect it, and don’t be sad about it.” 

Silence followed somber and stuffy silence. For once, you were glad Fletcher returned in all of his child of Apollo gleam. He was better at cheering Nico up than you were, that’s for sure. 

★・・・・・・★

“What do you mean ‘He’s gone?’” Percy slowly retreats from your advances. Twice already, he’s stared at the glowing eyes of a child of Hades and the second time was even more intimidating. 

“He just disappeared,” Percy stutters out. “It looked like shadows took him, and then he was gone.” 

Schist. You didn’t even know the little rat could shadow travel. By now, he could be anywhere. You’ve been on him about training, but he still had that childish clumsiness to him. His chances of survival would be out of pure luck. 

A groan leaves your lips, knowing you’d have to go find him. If it were anyone else, you would have let them be, but this unfamiliar urgency in your chest wouldn’t allow it. You had to find and drag him back by his ear if you had to. 

Your eyes roll at the son of Poseidon, and you turn on your heels without a word. So much drama because of that sister of his. 

Rushing down the stairs of the pavilion, you conjure the shadows to form a portal that’ll lead you straight into the forest. 

Di Angelo, you better be alive when I find you. 

★・・・・・・★

How does a 10-year-old with short legs get so much distance? 

After hours of searching and instigating some fights with monsters, he was nowhere to be found. Concluding that, maybe, hopefully, he found his way out of the forest, you have to settle with waiting for him to return. If he returns.

Tired legs take you up the porch steps and you shrug off your coat the moment you step through the door. As the warmth graces your chilled skin, a floorboard creaks.

“Nico?” 

“Y/n?” Your name comes out of his mouth like a desperate plea as he reveals himself out of the shadows. With rosy, tear-stained cheeks, and watery eyes, Nico bolts in your direction, and for a moment, you think he’s going to attack you. 

It would be a bold move. Though, with his speed, he could get a good hit but he ended up doing something much worse. 

He hugged you. 

His small frame flings into you, short arms grasping your waist as if his life depended on it. 

“Percy broke his promise,” he cries, hot tears running down his cheeks and dampening your shirt. “Bianca,” he shutters. “He told me she died.” His frame shivers harder, the action almost too violent for his frame. You weren’t sure how but his grip tightened, “What am I going to do?” Get over it. 

The hostile thought was a knee-jerk reaction. Your mouth was about to relay the message but you stopped yourself, the words getting caught in your throat. 

The logical answer didn’t feel right. Why didn’t it feel right? 

Suddenly you’re aware of the sunken feeling in your chest. Its foreign nature made it hard to distinguish whether it hurt or if it was discomfort. 

This is odd.

Nico cries and cries, and by now, the clothing of your shirt is sticking damp to your skin. The longer you stood there, stuck on what to say next, you felt an urgency as if your response was timed. 

Rarely were you lost for words. Actually, you can’t recall a time when you have but right now you stood with your mouth open like a fish out of water. “You stay here,” you say abruptly. Nico pulls away, eyes glistening in the ray of moonlight seeping into the room. He’s so small. 

Not that he’s not small on any other day. His narrow shoulders droop and turn into themselves from the weight of the news. He looked fragile, searching for something other than his grief and he’s searching for it in you. 

It wasn’t often someone came to confide in you. Your advice was always too abrasive, and cold, and never did you have the urge to give something different. 

That’s what made this moment so strange. As Nico waits expectantly, you can’t find it in yourself to disregard him. 

“You stay here,” you repeat, the words delivered before your brain could process them.“And you train, and make friends, and find your own way around life.” Nico frowns, sleeve wiping his nose. Amongst his sadness, something flickers in his eyes. “Stay here with you?” With you. 

You couldn’t begin to decipher what that question made you feel. Forget the question, its delivery was hopeful and that surprised you the most. 

The feelings were almost overwhelming and before it completely flooded your senses, you shoved it to the side.

“Who else?” You clear your throat in an effort to get yourself together. “Is there anyone else who lives here besides me? Does the statue count too?” The question was genuine but something about it made Nico crack a smile.

“Anyways, you’ll see her again.” You shrug, stepping out of his loose embrace. 

“I will?” “We’re the children of the dead. We can just find her.” Find her so I can kill her again.

Nico sniffles, the sound snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Stop crying,” you blurt out, and the boy blinks, face pink. “Crying doesn’t fix anything,” is all you say before returning to your side of the room. 

Nico swallows, trying to suppress the tears. 

You were right. Crying doesn’t fix anything but even though it was true, his emotions were all too much for him. Sniffling softly and wiping his face with his sleeve, he retreats to bed. “Good night,” he says, voice quivering. 

Nico crawls into the covers, the fatigue hitting him the moment he rests against the spring mattress. Unexpecting, he wraps himself up, eyes shut tight in hopes he’ll be asleep soon. “Good night.” 

Nico’s eyebrows furrow. He finds some strength to lift his head just enough for you to be in his line of vision. Blinking in surprise, he swears he saw a smile on your face. It wasn’t teasing, or happy. It was comforting, as slight as it was. It wasn’t much but to Nico, it made him feel like he’d be okay. 

Without another word, you slid into your covers and went to sleep. 

★・・・・・・★

“Where’s the brat?” With crossed arms and a look of determination, you stood authoritatively at the double doors of your father’s dining room. 

The god sits at the very end of the grand table, skeleton butlers wait on either end of the room to serve him. On the polished mahogany wood, the bulbs of the many crystal chandeliers lined up across the ceiling reflect like ornaments. As Hades wipes the sides of his lips with a cloth napkin, the side of his mouth quirks as he catches Nico peeking behind your back like a child behind a mother’s skirt.

Since when have you been maternal? 

“I’m sorry, who?” Your father asks with fake confusion. The smile on his face already gave you a headache. You weren’t here to play games, you meant business. 

“You know who.”

Hades clears his throat and his eyes flicker over to Nico. Quickly, the small boy retreats nervously, eyes set on your back. “I don’t know where your sister is, boy.” 

“I don’t believe you,” you cut in. Nico wasn’t going to speak, the boy practically shivering in his father’s presence. Even as he refrains from confrontation, he’s in awe at your comfort towards the god. 

“There’s dead people in and out of this place. You think I would know?” Hades asks and a hum leaves your lips.

“I would think you’d at least keep track of your kids but if you’re going to be this useless to me, I’ll find her myself.” 

“Wait.” 

You halt turning on your heels and raise an eyebrow. There was a moment of disbelief, your father helping and not making everything so difficult for you, for once? You wonder who could have possibly granted this miracle. 

“She’s somewhere down here,” Hades says and you wish your expression could get straighter. “Wow, I would have never figured that out. Thanks.” Grabbing Nico’s sleeve, you begin dragging him out of the room. 

“She’s not in the meadows, I checked. I don’t think her life has been judged either but Charon said he rowed her in. I can feel she’s close.” 

You sigh. Finding her is proving to be more of a challenge than you thought. By now, you would think she’d be judged and categorized wherever the judges saw fit. However, from the dead ends, you’ve stumbled upon so far, you consider that she doesn’t want to be found. As annoying as it is, the chance to prove you can find her was enough to get you to keep going, “Noted,” you mumble, already deciding where you will look next. “Close the door on your way out!” “No.”

★・・・・・・★

“Okay, listen here…” You move a little closer, eyeing the name tag on the frightened guard. “Atrius. Have you seen Bianca? She looks like this kid.” Pointing at Nico, the ghost peers over your shoulder. 

“No, I haven’t seen her.” As definitive as that statement was, he didn’t sound so definitive. His bones clinked together as he shivered in your presence. 

“I don’t like when people lie to me.” You stare into his empty eye sockets. One moment passes and then two and then three and still he hasn’t budged. Irritation buzzed at the back of your skull. You had the time but none of the patience to play hide and seek. 

Nico stands a short way behind you, partially concerned for your victim. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do if you didn’t get what you wanted. The skeleton flashed him a look and even with no skin on his face, he could tell it was pleading. 

“Help me!” He was saying without a word. 

The boy doesn’t move from his spot though, instead looking away sheepishly. Pleading or not, he looked scary. That and Nico really wants to find his sister. “I’m not lying!” He insists and it annoys you even more. Quickly, in one movement, you grab his leg and tug so hard it comes straight out the socket. Tossing it to the side, your eyes don’t leave him as he yelps, falling straight to the ground. “Tell me where she is, or I’m tossing both of your legs into Tarturus. Last chance.” 

Atrius wails at your threat, the sound was so hysteric you almost missed his confession. “She’s hiding in Lady Persephone’s garden, amongst the pomegranate trees!” 

Nico flinches when you whip around. Already he was unsettled by your interrogation methods but nothing prepared him for your face.

You were smiling. Your eyes looked lit up. 

Not gracing him a look, you walked right past him. From his surprise, his brain never gave his body the signal to move. Instead, he averts his attention to a distraught Atrius whose more than relieved he finally got you out of his bones. 

Right as he’s about to look away, Nico jumps in his skin as the skeleton looks right at him once again. It was only then did he find the courage to move. Walking backward, he smiles sheepishly. “Um… thank you,” Nico’s tone is apologetic. Across the courtyard laid Atrius’s leg and the boy takes a step in that direction but is halted by the sound of his name. “You’re coming or not?” You ask him, foot tapping with impatience. 

Not wanting to keep you waiting, Nico forgets about retrieving the guard's limb. “Sorry about your leg!” He shouts behind him, hoping the apology was soothing enough as he joins your side. 

The young boy stares at the back of your sneakers as you make your way through the underworld. Already he’s seen some things that spooked him out too much. This was like walking through a horror maze for him. 

For you though, he notices you’re more comfortable around here than you did at camp. Your usually confident stride had purpose and authority. He wonders if he’ll ever walk through here the same way you do one day. A part of him hopes he does.

“Alright.” Nico halts, almost bumping right into you as you stop in your tracks. “We walk through here silently. Watch where you’re stepping, if you crush one of Persephone’s plants, I can’t help you.” 

The boy’s face contorted with fear. “What do you mean you can’t help me?” He couldn’t decipher the look you flashed in his direction but it sent your message well enough. Don’t step on one of her flowers and you won’t find out. 

Nico’s small nod is enough to get you moving. With silent and slow steps, you walk along the paved pathway toward the cluster of trees in the back. 

It hadn’t settled into Nico’s awareness that his sister was hiding. You could tell. He was still hopeful and excited to see her and you can imagine if he knew, he wouldn’t be happy about it. 

You’re not happy about it, that’s for sure. What even was her problem? If there was anything Nico deserved, it was to see her before she gets sent to the meadows or decides to reincarnate. 

Once you approach the trees, you shuffle through them. You’re thankful Nico’s naturally taken the role of your shadow because he mimics your sneaking, staying out of sight with you. 

He probably thinks your caution is due to Persephone arriving at any minute. You feel this strange tightness in your chest, he really has no idea you’re trying to sneak up on his sister so she doesn’t have the chance to run.

Right as the thought passes, you catch sight of something moving in the trees. Locks of brown hair wisp through them and the pulse in your neck picks up. It seems you’re not going to avoid a chase. 

Nico barely had time to catch up as you bolt through a straight diagonal through the trees. You admire her audacity to try and get away. The smile that stretches across your face is from amusement alone. 

As Bianca makes a sharp right, you gather the shadows at the tree's stumps and will them to consume your body. Nico blinks and suddenly you’re gone. His quick steps come to a stop as he looks around, trying to catch any sight of you. Then he hears a cry of pain and he moves fast in that direction. 

The only thing on his mind was the possibility you got hurt. Even if you were in your father’s territory, were there still monsters that could attack you? Even worse, what if you stepped on Lady Persephone’s plants? If you can’t help him in the scenario he did, what was he gonna do? 

His pace quickens as he hears another cry and finally, he bursts through a wall of vines. 

Still clouded by his concern, his brain barely processes what he stumbled upon. There you were, fingers grasping tight at his sister’s ear. Bianca groans and struggles in your pinching grasp and you look up at Nico with a gleam, like a fisherman who just got his catch of the day. “Got her.” 

“Nico?”

Bianca freezes at the sight of her brother. There’s a silence that follows and you’re surprised Nico didn’t immediately bombard her with questions. 

The girl straightens up once you let go of her and as your arm returns to your side, you catch the tears brimming Nico’s waterline.

Yeah, this is when you clock out. Your work here is done. 

“I’ll… wait for you over there,” you point through the trees and at the meadow of flowers that wasn’t too far. It’s enough distance to be an earshot away. 

Nico nods, his eyes unmoving from his sister. 

Once you’ve shadow traveled to your spot, you didn’t dare look in their direction. With your eyes planted on the flowers, you wait for Nico to return. 

The boy didn’t take too long which left you lost for words. He didn’t look happy when he met you in the garden. His eyes held a feeling a part of you understood. 

“I want to go home.” He frowns. 

Home. You didn’t even consider camp a home and you’ve been there for three years. 

“Okay.” Your voice was right above a whisper. 

Whatever happened back there was the end for him, the last time he would see her. Knowing how that felt, you waited. Just a moment, maybe two. If Nico had any reservations or second thoughts, you gave him time. When nothing came, you hoped whatever happened, he’ll find peace in it. 

The shadow gathered slowly, first at your feet then at your legs and soon the two of you were traveling through blurred shadows and harsh winds.

★・・・・・・★

“Who did this?” You weren’t sure if the streaks of water on Nico’s face were from his eyes or the toilet water soaked in his hair. 

The boy sniffles, cheeks and nose flushed from his embarrassment. After the incident, he rushed back to the Hades Cabin to wallow in self-pity but his assumption you wouldn’t be there was wrong. He didn’t want to admit what happened, scared he would disappoint you for clearly losing this battle.

His mouth opens to answer but nothing comes out. He considers lying but as you raise an eyebrow, he grows too anxious to come up with one. 

“Nico,” you say his name firmly and the frown on his face deepens. “It was Clarisse and her siblings, they-” he gurgles out through his watery whines and you sigh. “They…, I-” 

“Breathe.” You kneel to his height and take a deep breath, waiting for him to follow. He does, his chest filling with air and he releases it shakily. 

“They surrounded me in the bathroom and Clarisse shoved my face in the toilet.” 

His lip quivers as he recalls the memory. Nico’s eyes flicker across your hardening features and you rise from your spot. “Go clean up,” you demand, already heading to the door. 

“What are you gonna do?” “I’m going to fix it.” 

★・・・・・・★

Gravel crunches under your shoes, without a single weapon you persist into the camp’s arena. Clangs of swords and grunts could be heard from outside of the entrance and as you made your way through the doors, there were the Ares’s campers sweating and panting from their already hard day of training. 

Clarisse stands there authoritatively, the swing of the grand door grabbing her attention and the snug look on her face had set off a slight rage in your chest. 

You were ready to wipe it off. If only she knew what she had coming. “Did Nico tell on us?” One of her brothers asks mockingly, your presence already known to the entire group. They stood, waiting for a fight as they make no effort to sheath their swords. 

A smile almost graces your lips before you could even execute your plan.

“His big sister is fighting his battles for him.” They laugh and joke at your brother’s expense and something snaps in your mind. 

The ground suddenly sinks into itself, and Clarisse and her siblings stumble to the side in confusion. Before they realized what was happening, there was no chance to run. 

A sinkhole, perfectly round and deep enough to trap them forms right under their feet. They roll and drop to the bottom, coughing at the gravel waterfall surrounding them. 

You hear their shouts and complaints and you make your way to the edge. Looking down at them, you ignore their demands to be let out.

“No one messes with my little brother.” 

As if on cue, there’s a screech in the distance and it immediately fills their expressions with dread. A lopsided smirk appears on your lips and soon the shadows of massive wings appear overhead. 

You whisper a demand to attack in ancient greek and the harpies swoop down with a call like a battle cry. There’s a collective panic of your victims and a laugh leaves you, watching as they spear their swords in the air at every charge towards them. 

Calmly leaving the chaos you’ve caused behind, you find an audience. Unaware of their bewildered expressions, not because of the scene but at the joyful smile on your face, you hoped you’ve sent a message.

Be nice my brother or else.

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