liked by yourbsf, charlottesiine, and 194,310 others

tagged yourbsf

yourusername bigger and better things are coming in 2024 🪩

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user4 oh she is glowinggg!!

user5 y/n is living her best life and we love to see it!

yourbsf nyc was sooo much fun w you 😘

yourusername had the best timeee 💗💗

user6 SHE'S IN NEW YORK RN??

user7 OKAY SHE'S STRAIGHT FIREE 🔥🔥

charlottesiine you're sooo perfect! 🤍

yourusername all you cha!! 💗💗

user8 MOTHERS SPOTTED TOGETHER??

yourusername

( caption one: the only cha i need 😘 | caption two: night out 🌃 )

liked by charles_leclerc, charlottesiine, and 210,998 others

tagged charlottesiine

yourusername idk this weekend's been kinda fun!

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user13 THIS FRIENDSHIP IS SOMETHING IM ABSOLUTELY HERE FOR.

user14 charlotte x y/n WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!

user15 okay but the mysterious guy in the third pic??

user16 she's in another relationship??

user17 how has she already moved on that quickly tf... neither of them deserved charles.

user18 shut uppp!! you have no clue about y/n's personal life, for all we knew that literally COULD be charles, or it could be someone else! she should be able to do whatever she wants without some troll deciding they have a relevant opinion ❤️

charlottesiine the best weekend everrr!!

yourusername love you 💗

user19 CUTIESSS

user20 the way charles liked this ☹️☹️

user21 missing them hours

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charles_leclerc testing is all doneee - let's smash the race next week!

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user22 MY OH MYYYY

user23 he knows what he's doing w those pictures of himself

user24 no real im sweating over here.

user25 sooo...are you ever going to mention the breakup??

user26 or the new pics of y/n and her mystery man??

user27 to everyone asking charles to speak on his breakup: leave him alone! it's clear him and y/n are still on good terms as they're still liking each other's insta posts, but that doesn't necessarily mean they're together! they're people too, i think we all need to just leave them alone to process their breakup ❤️

user28 okay but y/n clearly is over him?? she's already processed the breakup, so why shouldn't he have?

user29 everyone needs to honestly just leave them be. this is sooo old rn and they're probably tired of it.

carlossainz55 all ready for the new season 🏎️🏎️

charles_leclerc 👊👊

liked by charles_leclerc, niallhoran, and 190,201 others

yourusername sitting still, looking pretty! 😘💗

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user30 OH SHE'S STRAIGHT FIREEE

user31 THE DRESS THE MAKEUP IT'S ALL SO PERFECT

user32 i needdd a grwm asap ur gorgeous girl!!

user33 okay but the second pic??

user34 we already knew she was over charles?

user33 yeahhh its just so strange to see her soft launching another guy

user35 idc what anyone says i LOVE that y/n has found another man she's happy with!!

user36 sooo real for this!! she deserves all the happiness in the world 💗

charlottesiine 😍😍

yourusername chaaa!! 💗

yourusername

( caption: heyy just came on here to say that me and charles are still broken up. i’ve seen a lot of rumours floating around the internet about the nature of our relationship, and while it is no one’s business except our own, i would like to just say that the break up, as previously stated, WAS mutual & we are still friends. mine and charlotte’s friendship also seems to be coming under a lot of fire recently, for whatever reason. she is an amazing woman and has been so supportive during this time of my life, so i kindly ask you stop bashing us on social media for simply being friends. thank you to all of the people sending me lovely messages - ur support isn’t going unnoticed 💗 )

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tagged niallhoran

yourusername the best thing life could've thrown at me 💗

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niallhoran and who's that handsome fella 😘

yourusername just some annoying irish guy i met, idk how to get rid of him

yourbsf Y/N!! 😍

yourusername MY REAL LOVER 😘

charles_leclerc ❤️

yourusername 💗💗

charlottesiine me when i have to third wheel now ☹️

yourusername no neverrr ur my baby angel he can third wheel us 😍

“Hi,” he says, with nearly as much enthusiasm. “Did you have fun tonight, sweetheart?” 

You nod happily. “I brought you something.” 

He feels his eyebrows raise. “Something for me?” 

“Mhm.” You twist onto your side, mouth screwing up concentratedly as you lift your bum to fish around in your back pocket. “Here!” You pull out a squished mars bar, looking rather pleased with yourself. “Those are your favorite, right?” 

“They are,” he agrees, taking it from you, “thanks. Where’d you get this?” 

“A man was giving them out on the street.”

James blinks. “Just giving them away?” 

“I know, very suspicious.” You nod sagely. “But I already had mine, and it wasn’t laced with cocaine or anything, so I figure it’s fine.” 

Right, then. James will just have to check on you in the morning to make sure you’re still breathing. 

“Well, thank you for the gift,” he says, and is rewarded with your gargantuan grin. 

“I’m glad you like it,” you reply, eyes full of an earnestness so sweet it makes James’ chest hurt. “I never get to do anything for you, and you’re so nice to me.” 

“You do tons of stuff for me,” he scoffs, but you look prepared to argue, and he doesn’t want that. He gives your shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Hey, wanna get some water?” 

You go quiet, considering this. “Can I have it on the floor?” 

James laughs. “You want to drink your water sitting on the floor?” 

You smile like you don’t quite understand what’s so funny but are happy to go along with it anyway. “The floor is good,” you say, as though it’s a simple fact of life. 

“Alright.” James weaves his arm under yours, hoisting you up. “Sure, sweetheart, you can have it on the floor.” 

He all but carries you into the kitchen, your feet barely touching the floor as they stumble inelegantly over each other and your one undone shoelace. You make a small sound as he eases you down on the floor next to the fridge, looking decidedly worse than you had over by the door. 

“Do you feel okay?” he asks, keeping a wary eye on you as he fills a cup from the tap. 

You hum noncommittally, waving him off. “Don’t worry about me.” 

“Sorry, you can’t stop me,” he replies teasingly, crouching in front of you to pass you the water. He can’t stop himself. “Do you think you’re going to be sick?” 

You make a face, mouth twisting in disgust. “God, I hope not.” 

A nervous laugh escapes him. “Okay well, uh—here.” James grabs a nearly empty bread bag from the counter, taking the last two slices out and setting them on top of the toaster. He passes it to you. “Just in case you do.” 

You give him a soft look, as if he hasn’t just handed you a vomit bag. “Thanks, Jamie.” 

His heart sputters. You never call him that, and certainly never while looking at him the way you are now. He has the sudden urge to squish your face between his hands. 

“Course,” he says quickly, looking down and getting to work on the shoelaces that were giving you trouble earlier. You’d double-knotted them and evidently forgotten. The action of prying the knot apart feels good, giving his body something productive to do. 

For a while, you only drink your water quietly. James disentangles the laces and slips your shoes off, setting them next to each other on the floor. You put your feet in his lap, and he lets you. When you gasp, he looks up, alarmed. 

“What?” 

“James.” Your eyes are wide and glossy. “James, I just remembered the most wonderful thing.” 

His heart calms slightly. “What’s that, love?” 

“I cut up cantaloupe earlier. We should eat it!”

James grins, taking your ankles to move them out of his lap. “Great idea. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He stands, ignoring your confused puppy sound at his leaving. 

Your eyes light up when he returns a moment later, bowl of melon in hand. 

“Oh my god, you’re the best,” you gush, reaching for the fork he passes you from the drawer. “Where were you hiding this?” 

“In my room,” he admits, sitting beside you. “I know you don’t like it when I eat right out of the bowl, sorry.” 

“Oh, I don’t mind so much anymore,” you wave him off, forking a chunk of melon and taking a bite out of it. “That was a new-roommate thing. I didn’t want your spit in my food, you could’ve had herpes.” 

A laugh startles out of him. “Did you think I had herpes?” 

“I didn’t know!” you defend yourself, and it’s ridiculous how endearing he finds it that you’re comfortable enough to talk with your mouth full around him. “You’re a very pretty man, James Potter. For all I knew, you had a steady rotation coming in and out of your room whenever I wasn’t home.” 

James guffaws, bumping your shoulder with his reprimandingly. “Wow, thanks for that. At least you think I’m pretty.” 

“Just the truth,” you say into your cup, voice somewhat quieter than before. 

He looks over, and you’ve gone a bit bashful, shoulders pulling up towards your ears as you down the last of your water. James thinks that he’s lucky you aren’t like this often. It’d be very hard to keep things platonic between you if you were this sweet and open with him as a habit. 

“I wasn’t sure about you when you first moved in either,” he says to lighten things. “The first time I opened the cottage cheese and saw peaches inside, I almost moved out.” 

You turn to him with your mouth agape, hand coming up to grip his bicep in offense. (He presumes he’s supposed to be intimidated, but all he can think about is how you never touch him like this, usually. It’s nice.) “You said it was good when I made you try it!” you accuse. “You liked it!” 

“It was okay,” he allows laughingly, letting himself cover your hand with his under the pretense of loosening your grip. “It was just off-putting at first. That was a lot of weird right out the gate, sweetheart. Sirius wanted me to call the police.” 

His plan backfires, and you drop your hand. Your chin, too, giving James a deadpan look through your lashes. “It’s not that weird. Tons of people do it.” 

“Sure, sure,” James says, patting your shoulder placatingly when you seem like you could argue more. “Feeling like you might be ready for bed?” You seem to have eaten your fill of melon. Your fork lies discarded in the bowl, swimming in juice. 

You deliberate for a moment before humming in affirmation. He stands first, taking both of your hands to help you up and marveling at the fact that you let him. When he turns to walk towards your room and you link your arm through his, he begins to worry he’s dreaming this whole thing. 

“James,” you whisper up towards his ear. “Jamie-Jame. I have a secret to tell you.” 

Definitely dreaming, then. A secret? He wonders what you could have thought of to tell him at this hour, in the state you’re in. Surely a good friend wouldn’t let you spill your guts when you’re this out of sorts. It could be something serious. Anything you’re not willing to share sober, he shouldn’t want to hear.

“What is it?” he asks, hating himself. 

“I’m not going to take off my makeup before bed.” 

A giggle bubbles out of him, so ridiculous he’s glad you’re not in your right mind to hear it. “Wow. Dire measures, huh?” 

You nod somberly. “I’m gonna be so upset with myself tomorrow. I’m gonna wake up with crusty-eye and a million new zits, but I just want to go to sleep so bad, you know?” 

“Mm, I think I see where you’re coming from.” James tries to sound like he’s giving it due consideration while he sets you down on your bed. You scoot back to the side, making room for him to sit beside you. He does. (Who is he to refuse an invitation like that?) “Yeah, you’ve just gotta prioritize comfort sometimes. You’ll make it up to yourself, I’m sure.” 

You level him with what seems to be your best approximation of a stern look. It makes you look extremely cuddly. “You can’t hold it against me when you see my skin tomorrow, James. It’s going to be atrocious.” 

He has to bite his lip to match your seriousness. “I guarantee I will not mind. In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never not looked lovely.” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t get it.” You flop back onto your pillow, disconsolate. “You’ve probably never had a zit in your life.” 

“Actually, I went through a fairly bad stint in year eight—”

“Oh, that’s not fair,” you groan. 

He smiles at you patiently. “What’s not fair, sweetheart?” 

“You’re not fair.” You gesture vaguely in his direction as if to make your point. “You haven’t gotten zits since eighth year, first of all. Then on top of that, you smell nice. And you have really long eyelashes, which no boy should ever have. There’s no way you appreciate them as much as they deserve. And you call me sweetheart—what’s up with that?” James blinks, but you’re not done. “And you’re way too nice to me! It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Right,” James says, considering. “So all I have to do is start getting zits, stop showering, and…trim my eyelashes, and then you’ll be satisfied? Justice will be restored?” 

Your lips curve, and you nod magnanimously. “Yes, please. Straightaway.” 

“Cruel.” He sets a hand on your knee, giving your leg a teasing little shake. “Should I stop calling you sweetheart as well, then?” 

You go shy again, looking just to the side of his face as a faint blush colors your cheeks. “No, that’s okay.” 

James has to bite the inside of his cheek to tamp down the full force of his smile. “Okay. Alright if I continue being nice to you as well? I’d feel like a bit of a prick if I stopped.” 

You give it a few moment’s consideration. “Fine,” you say, as if this is a large allowance and he really is on thin ice. James lets loose his smile. You copy him, your own grin lopsided and goofy. “Hey, can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” 

“Can I have a hug?” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” The word tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it, warm fondness oozing from every syllable. “Of course, come here.” 

Despite his own words, he goes to you, crushing you to his chest with perhaps a touch too much eagerness. You don’t seem to notice, drooping against him with your arms banded around his middle. He thinks he hears you breathe in. 

“Still feeling okay?” he asks gently, rubbing your back. You hum. “Ready to go to sleep?” 

“Not if you’re going to leave.” Your voice is muffled against the fabric of his pajama shirt. The skin beneath grows warm from your breath. “I like you so much, Jamie. You’re so nice to me, you know?” 

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.” He smiles to himself, palm sweeping over the bare skin of your upper back and the material of your dress. He wonders if you’ll regret having slept in it in the morning. He can’t stand the thought of wearing outside clothes in bed. Oddly, he doesn’t know if you’re the same. “I can stay for a bit, if you want.” 

“I like you, like, so much it’s a problem,” you go on as if he hasn’t spoken. You sound mildly upset. “You have no idea.”

Something tense and tentatively happy twists in James’ gut. It takes more effort than it should to keep breathing, keep rubbing your back. “I can stay, but you have to go to sleep, okay?” 

You ease out of his embrace to look up at him. Your eyes are somewhat focussed, but watery. “James, I like you so much.” 

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he says softly, heart a hard-to-ignore, thundering thing in his chest. “Let’s just sleep for now, okay?” 

“Okay.” You look reluctant but nod, laying back against your pillow. “Thanks.” 

James doesn’t know what you’re thanking him for. He’s not sure he deserves it. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” 

“I’m going, I’m going,” you grumble, but reach up for his hand. He gives it to you, and you haul it to your chest with surprising strength, sending James slumping forward until he’s nearly lying down beside you. “Sorry,” you say drowsily. Then, after some thought, “Actually, no I’m not.” 

It can't be.

Lily bites her lower lip as if trying to hold back a smile. "Is that what it smells like to you?"

You also catch the scent of quill ink and freshly brewed coffee, so it can only be…

You put your hand away from your nose as if it's on fire.

"Tell me this is not what I think this is."

"If you're not thinking of Amortentia, then yes."

"Why would you brew Amortentia?!"

"For Professor Slughorn," she sees the confusion etched on your face and looks positively horrified. "Not for Professor Slughorn to drink! Ew! I said I'd like to try brewing one because it's, you know, a bit complicated and I've never tried before. He said he'd give Gryffindor some points if I succeeded. I didn't know you would… you know, smell Sirius."

"I never said I smelled him!"

"Okay! Okay," Lily raises both hands in surrender. Then, quieter, she adds, "You can pretend all you want."

You sigh. "Did you only have this vial?"

"Well, there should be some potion left in the cauldron, I think."

Great. An opportunity to escape this beyond strange situation. "I'll go get it for you."

"But I-"

You're out the Gryffindor common room before Lily has a chance to question your offer. The need to get away from that impending conversation is stronger than anything else right now.

Your heart is racing as you walk through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the dungeons, where Potions class usually take place. Each step is an effort to calm your turbulent mind and find some peace.

Upon reaching the Potions classroom, you welcome the silent space as you enter. The characteristic smell of magical ingredients and herbs fills your nostrils, bringing a familiar and almost comforting sensation… until you catch that smell. Amortentia.

You look around, searching for Lily's cauldron, which she mentioned leaving behind.

It's not hard to find; the smell is quite distinct, enchanting, all the things you love most in the world somehow united in a single aroma.

The cauldron is sitting on one of the workbenches. You approach cautiously, making sure not to knock anything over. Then you rummage through the shelves for an empty vial and pour some of the potion into it, feeling like you're doing something wrong even though Lily had Slughorn's permission.

The door opens, and you almost drop a row of glass bottles as you turn to look.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

It's Sirius. Of course, it's him.

He closes the door behind him, and your heart skips a beat as it usually does whenever he's around. He's wearing the Gryffindor uniform, the first two buttons undone, revealing a patch of delicate skin just below his neck.

You don't need to wonder how he got there or why. Chances are, he extracted every piece of information he needed from Lily with little to no effort.

"What are you doing?" he asks calmly. You, on the other hand, don't feel calm at all.

"Nothing, just..."

"Just?" He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away from the workbench, trying not to show the nervousness you truly feel.

"I just came to get something," you say.

Sirius gives a suspicious glance at the cauldron. "Is it a love potion?" He's a skilled wizard. Skilled enough to know the answer to that question, yet he waits for you to respond.

"Lily made it," you say defensively, holding up the vial containing the potion to illustrate your point unnecessarily.

"And what scent do you smell?" he questions, with a genuine curiosity in his tone that catches you off guard. "What does the potion smell like to you?"

"Lily told you," it's far from a question.

But Sirius has a knack for playing games.

"She told me what?"

"You know what."

This time, you step back as he advances, unable to help yourself, swallowing hard and Sirius notices. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back.

"Sirius," you warn.

In return, Sirius says your name, his tone lighter, more playful, soft as a feather. Then, another step.

You nearly bump your hip against one of the workbenches as you take another desperate step back. Sirius, being Sirius, raises an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.

It's unfair. It's simply unfair that he's so good-looking, starting at you without feeling the need to averting his gaze. "You don't have to do this," you find yourself saying.

Sirius seems genuinely puzzled.

"Do what?"

You steal a glance in your peripheral vision. The room won't go on forever; you need to say something to get out of this situation before he gets too close. You don't trust yourself near Sirius.

"Turn me down. Be all nice-" you stutter. He keeps advancing toward you. Back almost against the wall, you dodge another workbench and turn to the left, trying to prevent him from cornering you.

Sirius chuckles. "Is that what you think?"

"I'm a big girl. I can take rejection."

He glances in the direction of the cauldron. "Do you want to know what scent I smell?"

"No."

"Leather-"

"Sirius-"

"Gasoline," he raises his chin, nose in the air as if enjoying one scent after another. "Apple pie."

For a moment, you close your eyes. "Stop it."

"And lavender."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. He's not being serious, a little voice in your mind insists. It can't be serious. He's just teasing you... or maybe just being a good friend. Too good a friend.

It would be easier if he wasn't. If he were less kind to you, less handsome, less charming.

It's not easy.

You're breathless, trying to keep your distance from Sirius as he sets a slow advance, a constant tease. It's an internal battle between the desire to give in to the attraction you feel for him and the need to protect yourself — but the latter wins, for now.

"Sirius," you plead, your voice quiet, "stop"

He pauses for a moment, his gray eyes fixed on yours. "You think I'm joking, don't you? You think I'm just being nice?"

"I... I don't know, Sirius. It's so...confusing."

He takes yet another step towards you, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Always challenging. "Confusing or scary?"

The tension between you two is palpable, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, threatening to break out of your rib cage any given moment. You know you're fighting your own feelings, afraid of surrendering to something that may - and probably will - end in heartbreak.

"It's not fair," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's not fair that you're so... so-"

"So what?" he teases, closer. "So handsome? So charming? So... irresistible?"

You can tell he's somehow having fun. You don't understand how he can maintain a playful tone in a moment like this.

You catch a whiff of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body, and your heart races once again. If there's a way to prevent Sirius from getting what he wants, you don't know what it is. "So confusing," you finish, almost in a whisper. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, and you momentarily catch a flicker of something deeper in this playful gaze. He slowly raises a hand and gently, gentler than ever, caresses your face, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your skin.

"I don't see how I could be confusing you," he murmurs, his voice soft and husky. "I thought I was being pretty clear..." It's teasing, of course it is; when it comes to Sirius, few things aren't.

But there's something else behind it, too.

The air grows heavier.

"You're not clear about anything, Sirius," you reply, your voice faltering slightly. "I never know what you're thinking. I never know what you really mean."

"Maybe you're just not paying attention."

You furrow your brow, confused by Sirius' response. He's playing with you, as he always does, but this time it feels more intense, more meaningful. You struggle against the temptation to give in completely, to say something you might not be able to take back.

"I do pay attention, Sirius," you respond, your voice showing determination you're not entirely sure you feel. "It's you who likes to make everything more difficult than it needs to be."

He moves closer once again, so close now that you can feel his breath against your skin, the tip of his nose an inch away from touching yours.

"Do you want me to be clearer?" he whispers, voice laced with a hint of his usual mischief. "Make it easier?"

You swallow, feeling your heart race. You know you can't admit your feelings for him, you can't let your defenses down. Not when he makes a point to hide comfortably behind a facade, away from anything that makes him feel vulnerable.

You need honesty.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice almost faltering. "Yes, I do."

Sirius pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Then, slowly, he moves closer and closer still, until his lips almost touch yours.

There is a feeling that you can't quite put into words.

"I want you," he murmurs, an admission that hangs in the air like a charged electric current. "I want to be with you. I want you to be happy– I'll even accept your awful taste in music," he adds with a playful smirk, teasingly referencing your occasional guilty pleasure for a particular genre of music that he often mocks.

A laugh escapes your lips, a combination of relief and affection. His sincerity is pretty close to melting away any remaining doubts that linger in your heart. "I have great taste in music," you state playfully.

Sirius brushes the side of his nose against yours affectionately. "Sometimes," he gives in, voice filled with genuine warmth.

You lean into his touch, savoring the tenderness and intimacy of the moment. It's as if the world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of shared emotions.

"Sometimes?" you raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

He chuckles, a low and melodic sound that resonates deep within your chest, a sound you don't get to hear as often as you'd like. "You're lucky you're pretty," he teases, his voice filled with affectionate playfulness.

"Oh?"

"I have a soft spot for pretty girls."

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Black."

Sirius leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" he whispers, fingers trailing along the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. "I'm already where I want to be."

Your heart swells with warmth, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Smooth talker."

Dividers by @promenadewithme-graphics

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