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hellishjoel · 9 months

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pretty little thing

4.9k / dbf!joel/brat tamer!joel x f!reader

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Summary: After Joel misses two of your secret hookup dates, you send him a picture to show him just what he’s missing… while you're in Joel’s bed and he’s across the street at your dad’s house.

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), sending/receiving nudes, dbf!joel, brat tamer!joel, a lil choking, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, denial/edging followed by overstimulation, temperature play (kind of?), reader’s dad being a cockblock (TWICE)

A/N: based on this lovely request! I love dbf!joel, I’ll never get enough. Masterlist

You had to take the perfect picture, one to show him what he was missing. You had to take one at just the right angle to show off your tits and the curve of your ass, the dark green lace material leaving little to the imagination. Finally, you sent off the picture with a rush of adrenaline, biting on your nail as you smirked. “Gonna have to start without you xx” And you weren’t lying. Your hand moved down the smooth skin of your stomach, eyes fluttering closed as you let out a heavy breath feeling how wet you were growing. Breaking his rules felt like a flood of excitement. It didn’t take him more than a minute for your text to go from Delivered, to Seen at 9:02 PM, to the little … messaging dots. “Are you in my fucking bed?” He wrote back.

You have been so careful these past few months. You had followed his rules.

1. Time Limit: If you were sneaking out of your dad’s house to meet up with Joel, you couldn’t stay the night.

This usually meant you running barefoot across the road from Joel’s house before the sun peeked over the hill of your cul-de-sac and back through your cracked open window with time to spare. Joel wasn’t really a “sleep over, I’ll make you coffee and breakfast in the morning” type of guy. You snuck over, did your dirty deeds, and always left him wanting more by the time you slipped out of his dark gray sheets. Not so much more that he was begging you to stay, but just enough for him to invite you back over.

2. Exposure: Don’t awkwardly avoid each other in public.

Joel, being your dad’s closest buddy, meant he was often over at your house for a number of reasons. Your dad had a boat down on the lake, so the two liked to fish. Your dad also owned a few nice motorcycles and always lent one to Joel so they could ride together during the summer. Sometimes, Joel would just come over because he was bored. With Sarah away at school, his entertainment was down to whatever beer he had in his fridge and the worn-in spot on his La-Z-Boy recliner catching a Rangers game. It was crucial not to avoid each other, or else it would just look out of the ordinary. Like something was going on between the two of you.

3. Paparazzi: No photos.

It’s as basic as it sounds. No taking photos of each other during your hidden moments away from the rest of the world. That meant no snapping pictures of Joel while you were out at dinner a few towns away, no videos of him railing you (no matter how many times you begged him), and definitely no nudes.

He had a bunch of other rules he had initiated over time, ones he made after you had broken an unknown boundary.

“It’s better for us this way, darlin’. Don’t want no one findin’ out ‘bout us.”

It had been well over a week since Joel invited you over last. And you were actually going insane. You both kept a standing reservation for the other on Friday nights. Fridays were at the request of Joel. After a long week of work, all he wanted to do was to come home, have a shower, and fall into bed with you.

You’d tell your dad you were going out with friends, and if your dad tried to hang out with Joel, he would say he was FaceTiming with Sarah that evening.

However, that plan harshly backfired when your dad insisted he wanted to hang out with his friends on Friday nights, too.

“Come on, Joel, call Sarah tomorrow. We’re going out to the bar for a drink!”

You loved your dad, but he was a fucking cockblock.

“We’ll meet tomorrow night, baby girl. Can’t say no to your daddy when he just wants some company.”

His text message to you Friday night left little comfort to the aching between your legs, a whine leaving you in annoyance when you hid away in your bedroom, having to help yourself for the night.

Apparently, Joel missed the memo that he was supposed to join your dad for one of the Rangers’ night games that following Saturday.

“Come on, Joely, it’s the Rangers against the fuckin’ Padres!”

Your dad did have a certain distaste for the Padres, a distaste he thought he would share with Joel over beer with chips and dip in the den.

Now, you were angry. So sexually frustrated that you could punch a hole through the damn drywall. You had to watch Joel come over to your house, wearing the dark green flannel that was labeled yours on Friday nights, with his freshly trimmed beard scruff that he probably trimmed just for you the night before.

His eyes read slightly apologetic when he glanced in your direction upon entering the house, but your revenge plans were already drawn out.

“Daddy, I’m going out.” You said as you leaned down to kiss his cheek and grab your keys from the dish.

“Two nights in a row, kiddo?” He asked, his eyes not straying from the TV, munching on a chip as he watched the wind up of a pitch.

A simple “mhm” left your lips as you started to exit the den. Joel’s curious gaze slyly followed your exit, glancing over you slowly. “Well, that’s 23 for ya. That will be your Sarah soon. Going out every night, makin’ trouble.” Your dad laughed as he told Joel, but you could see there was no smile on his face as he let out a forced little grumble.

With little curiosity from your occupied father, you went out the front door and hastily moved across the street to Joel’s house. It tasted like rain in the air, the dark clouds looming overhead confirming it.

You used the hidden key, your key, from under a plant at the back door and let yourself in, shimmying into the darkness that veiled the inside of his home.

You didn’t need to turn on a light, the home had become a blueprint in your head from all of your late-night rendezvous. Besides, a light on might signal the attention of your dad or Joel from across the street.

Your breath was tight in your chest, you were so excited. It wasn’t often that you had the upper hand with Joel, but if your plan worked like you hoped it would, he would be the one begging for you.

You shimmied out of your top and pants, revealing a dark green lingerie set. His favorite color. You pulled back his comforter and got into the familiar dark gray sheets, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment at his smell that soaked the material. You missed him, you missed his attention. Focus.

You took a deep breath and pulled his sheets back, your phone in hand as you lifted it above your silhouette with the flash on. You smirked as you looked at your beautiful body through the camera’s lens, admiring each curve and dimple. He loved every inch of you, he told you so himself.

You had to take the perfect picture, to show him what he was missing. You had to take one at just the right angle to show off your tits and the curve of your ass, the dark green lace material leaving little to the imagination.

Finally, you sent off the picture with a rush of adrenaline, biting on your nail as you smirked.

“Gonna have to start without you xx”

And you weren’t lying.

Your hand moved down the smooth skin of your stomach, eyes fluttering closed as you let out a heavy breath feeling how wet you were growing. Breaking Joel’s rules felt like a flood of excitement.

It didn’t take him more than a minute for your text to go from Delivered to Seen at 9:02 PM to the little … messaging dots.

“Are you in my fucking bed?” He wrote back.

He sounded angry, the dark gray sheets caressing you suddenly felt territorial. You were in his house without permission, breaking cardinal rule number 3. What if he didn’t want to see you again? Those rules were there for a reason, it’s what kept this little relationship going for so long. What if breaking the rules meant breaking off things? How many strikes did you get? You never truly asked. Did he even give you any strikes!?

Your heart thumped as your phone buzzed again, staggering to grab it and flip it over to see another text from him.

“New rule. Don’t touch yourself without me there. I’m leaving now.”

Your lips parted at the sight, a sly and excited smirk gracing your lips as you let out a fawning sigh. You were happy to know it was okay to break a rule as long as he was into it. Typical man thing, but duly noted.

You decided to watch him leave your house from the corner of his bedroom window. He left in a hurry, his flannel clutched in his hand as he angrily paced himself across the street. Droplets from the sky left darkened dots on his short sleeve t-shirt, his pace kicking up for more than one reason to get inside his house.

Hearing him set foot in the house made your legs flutter tighter together. You concealed yourself with his comforter, just your head popping out as you eagerly awaited for his body to peer through the doorway. You almost didn’t know what to do. Being in his house unannounced felt like you should hide.

He didn’t immediately come upstairs, he was taking his time. What was he doing?

Finally, you heard his thunderous boots hit the stairs, trudging their way to his bedroom. You purse your lips eagerly, one of your hands under the sheets slipping into your lacey green panties again.

Joel pushed open his bedroom door, your face dropping at the sight. You had never seen him so angry looking. His eyes narrowed on you in that stone-cold way that made your lips part. Oh, look, his half-age situationship was holed up in his bed, begging to be fucked.

You needed to muster up some words and fast.

“Joel, I-”

“What.. the HELL do you think you’re doin’ in here?” He barked so loud that your eyes went wide, and you held the comforter over your body as a shield now. Any nerve you had running over here like this was fucking gone.

Was his text only a ploy so he could make sure you were here so he could yell at you?

Your lips parted when you realized what was taking him so long downstairs. He was lowering the fucking thermostat. A shiver shuddered up your spine, grasping the comforter closer to be tucked under your chin.

You whimpered again, but this time more loudly, your desperate eyes meeting his stoic face. His fist was still clutching his flannel, his knuckles white, and the material surely crumpled up.

“I asked what the hell you were doin’ over here, fuckin’ answer me.” Joel’s words were growled and low, a sorry spot in your stomach forming where your body’s heat drained. You had never seen this side of him before. With one foul move of his arm, he ripped back the comforter to reveal your half-naked body.

The cold rushed over you once more, leaving you whimpering as you pulled your hand out from where you were previously feeling up your slick. You needed to coax him out of his mood.

“I just wanted to see you, baby. Needed you yesterday… still need you tonight.” Despite the chill, you laid back in his sheets and accentuated your body, your hands smoothing over yourself. One hand cupped your breasts, fingernail gently tugging on your bralette strap while your other hand guided over the curve of your hip and played with the thin lace of your thong.

He couldn’t help but let his gaze slip, taking a deep breath in through his nose while his eyes fell lower to the curve of your breasts amplified by the bralette. You were his pretty little thing, always have been, always will be. How could he resist you laying in his bed like this, all prepped and primed for him? Wearing his favorite color…

It didn’t take him long to decide, he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

Joel’s hand reached out first, his rough fingertips delicately brushing up the skin on your thigh, instantly causing goosebumps in their path.

“What did you say to my dad that he let you leave the watch party early?” You asked curiously, your eyes fluttering up to his amber ones. Another soft lightning strike hit in the distance and highlighted his taut jawline.

He hesitated before answering, a sly smile slowly growing on his pretty lips. He grunted and rolled his eyes before answering.

“Told ‘em I couldn't watch the shit show the Rangers were puttin’ on. Wanted to come home.”

You giggled a bit as your hand reached up to tug at his belt a bit.

“Emphasis on come home.” You teased, your heart fluttering thinking of how he showed up for you.

Over time, Joel had developed this stupid hold over you, and when you didn’t get his attention, you could turn into a bit of a brat. Listen, once you have Joel Miller’s cock inside you, it changes your life. Going without it feels like a sick detox.

“You wore this little thing for me, huh?” His southern drawl was enough to make your stomach churn in excitement, letting out a shaky breath as your head nodded against his pillows.

His pointer finger hooked into the material of your thong, your long eyelashes batting up to him.

He was going too slow for your pace. You were about to speak up about it, but he interrupted your thoughts.

“You were touching yourself.”

Your lips parted, and your lusted-over eyes began to focus again on his face. Suddenly, it got frigid again.

“What?”

“When I pulled the covers back, your hands were in your panties. You were touching yourself.” The statement made your lungs tight.

“I told you not to touch yourself without me here, you didn’t fuckin’ listen.” His words were spat with punishment, a loud whine leaving you as he pulled his hand from you.

“Joel, please, I wasn’t-” “You really lyin’ to me right now?” His voice boomed, guilt soaking over you.

“The new rule was established long after I touched myself, Joel.” Your tone was all sass, eyes glaring up at him for not giving you what you wanted.

He let out a quiet little scoff and looked over you with a half-smirk.

“Is that so?” His eyes were daggers.

“Yep. When you ditched me last night, and I was left all alone, I..” Your voice trailed off, lips parting as you suddenly felt shy about getting off in private. At least, telling him off about it.

“And you what?” His voice gritted, his head cocking up as he looked you up and down.

You took a big inhale through your nose, sitting up as your body scrambled to get on your knees on the mattress.

“And I fingered myself until I came. Since you weren’t there to take care of me, I did it myself.” You snapped, your arms crossing in front of you, shuddering a bit with the cold. Your nipples were taut peaks under the green bralette now.

He slowly nodded, assessing what to do with you behind his eyes, weighing his options.

“Is that so?”

Your lips parted as you glanced down, his bulge resting heavily against his thigh. Ugh! Why wasn’t he putting it to use? You were right there!

You supposed he decided enough was enough, and Joel was ready to play.

Your skin was doubling in goosebumps, whimpering as his warm hands nearly felt like they were searing you as he pulled you in by your waist, leaning down to connect your lips in a dirty haste.

A happy moan was released from the depth of your throat, arms instantly locking around his neck and tugging his hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close. You could feel him shuffling with the kiss, smirking against him as you felt him kick his boots off blindly.

“Joel, baby, it’s too cold.” You whispered to him as your lips moved to sponge kisses up his bearded jawline, a new patch of silver and white hairs adorning his lower cheek that you paid special attention to.

He pulled away for a moment and got a better look at your face. “You really want me to go downstairs right now and change-”

“No.” You quickly said, with a slight smile as you pulled him back in.

He settled on the bed, clothes on and all. You were about to fall between his legs, but he was already positioning you where he wanted.

He was sitting up now with his back against the headboard, an empty space between his legs where he encouraged you to sit. You moved in with a small smile, your back to his front with his jean-clad thighs around your hips. His hands began to explore you, his lips attaching to your neck as your head fell back onto his shoulder, eyes blissfully falling closed. His calloused hands felt over what he pleased, cupping your chest as he bit into your neck before moving down to your wet panties.

You had been aching for hours, days even for this man’s touch.

A stray moan left your lips, head still lulling around on his shoulder. You felt his arms constrict around you, arms pinned at your sides, and when you tried to move them, his only grew tighter.

“Joel,” you whimpered, his digits slipping into the front of the material as he slowly moved his fingers up and down your slick.

You yearned to hold him, kiss him, do anything to keep yourself distracted from his neurotically slow pace.

“Joel-” you said in a short-tempered warning tone.

Suddenly, his free hand was on your throat, your eyes clenching closed as he held you in one spot, fingers slowly circling your now throbbing clit.

“You got started without me, figure’ you’d want all this attention.” His low voice growled into your ear, a futile whimper leaving your lips.

“If you’re gonna act like a brat, not gonna give’ya what ya want.” An exhausted sigh left your lips, head slacking back against his shoulder again as his hold on your throat loosened.

It was painful the way he tortured you. His ankles had locked yours to be spread wide, your trembling legs giving away your impending orgasm.

You were damn near lapping like an overworked dog in the sun every time he got you close and stopped all movements, tears threatening to spill at the frustration.

He had been circling your engorged clit for who knows how long now. Your head had fallen limp on his shoulder and bicep, your back was either strictly straight with electricity or slumped against him with Joel practically holding up your weight.

“J-Joel, I can’t keep taking this, please,” you whimpered. You looked like a wreck. Your mascara made your eyes teary, smudged black on your waterline, and your mouth was dry from all your broken moans and gasps.

Your desperation didn’t change his mind. He was a stone wall right now. This was maybe the third time he denied your orgasm. You lost count. Your body no longer had the strength to hold itself up. And no matter how hot your body got each time you came close to an orgasm, the cold chill rushed back in just as he pulled away.

“Gonna have to keep takin’ it, naughty girl. Broke more rules than I can count on both hands tonight alone.” You let out a disgruntled sigh, feeling his boner nudging against your back.

A soft smirk graced your lips as you took what strength you could muster, your heels digging into the mattress as you grinded back against him. Your lips parted at the feeling of him poking into your ass, purposely moaning his name against the shell of his ear.

The action only worsened your punishment, his fingers moving at a lightning-fast pace suddenly.

“F-Fuck! Joel!” A clap of thunder concealed your cries, harsh rain pitter-pattering against Joel’s window. You wiggled in his hold, breathing heavily as you begged him to let you cum.

“Please! Please! Please, Joel! Please!” One of your hands gripped his large thigh for stability, your nervous system a wreck as you tried to muscle through another one of his denials. Your heart raced, just at your peak and ready to pop, nails clenching into his jeans as he went to an all-halting stop once more.

This time, he let your body go and moved out from behind you, your body in shambles as you fell into his pillows. You felt numb, yet so short-circuited. Your brain could barely hold a thought besides what he made you say after every denial.

“I will not disobey the rules.” Joel’s voice scolded, whimpers leaving your lips as they parted, but you couldn’t work out the words for a moment.

“I will not..” He started to lead you, your trembling thighs begging for more attention.

“..disobey the rules.” You mustered up, eyes fluttering open to meet him.

This may seem like torture to anyone who didn’t know the full context, but Joel was quick to console you into bliss after each denial.

“So good for me baby girl, come here.” He mumbled quietly as he cupped your cheek and turned you to look up at him, stars in your eyes as he kissed your forehead, nose, and pouted lips.

You hummed happily, your lazy hand slinking up to hold his hand that was on your cheek.

“I learned my lesson.” You whispered, throat swollen from crying and begging all night.

“Yeah, did you?” He asked almost mockingly.

You nodded tiredly against the pillows, thighs still twitching at the thought of cumming.

“You wanna cum tonight, baby? Think you deserve it after acting like a brat all night?” Joel muttered, his hands gently throwing his dark green flannel over your top half to keep you safe from the cold.

You nodded eagerly and took the peace offering, snuggling his warm flannel around your body. It smelled like him and a little like the rain outside.

Your eyes glanced at the comforter across the room. Better not to ask.

“How do you wanna come tonight, darlin’?” Joel muttered, his warm hand cupping your outer thigh and gently shaking it to watch your ass jiggle. It made you feel your warm, sticky arousal still soaking your pussy.

“Mm, want your warm tongue, Joel. Keep me warm.” You moaned softly, turning your head to see a slight smirk gracing his lips.

“Alright angel, perk up now.” Joel directed as you moved onto your knees and bent over in front of him, your head laying to the side as your ass was up and spread for him.

The cool air breezed over your panties, biting down on your lip as you felt him pull the material down and stretch around your thighs. His greedy hands gripped your ass, your cheeks flushing as he admired you from behind.

“Like what ya see, old man?” You hummed teasingly, rutting your hips back until his firm hands stopped you in place.

“Watch it.” His tone was warning you, squeezing at the flesh.

You eagerly waited, your jaw dropping as you felt his warm lips kiss down your wet slick.

“Oh-, Oh, Joel..” You moaned quietly, your hands at either side of your head gently gripping the sheets.

His mustache and trimmed beard hairs tickled your upper thighs, your eyes fluttering closed as his warm tongue flattened against your core.

Such a greedy fucking man, licking up all the slick he caused since he came home. You were just a feast for him now, getting all your juices worked up and on display for him. The thought made your stomach churn. You were already so close to coming, he didn’t even plunge a finger into you yet.

It’s alright, you thought, because as long as he kept giving your clit attention and you could cum, it was a win in your book.

A shaky whimper spilled into his bed sheets as his fingers gripped more into your juicy ass, spreading you open as he worked slow figure-eights around your clit. It was like a gentle massage to your throbbing core. He was practically milking you.

What made you even wetter was hearing him moan against your pussy, the vibrations throwing your body forward. You would have fallen away from him if his hands weren’t gripping your hips so tight.

Oh god, it was a lot now. You were so tender, so aching, now he was showering you with affection and it was too much.

“I- Woah, Joel, wait-” You gasped as your back arched, and you threw your head back, hair going everywhere as Joel began to feast your orgasm from you.

His tongue didn’t stop, lapping and licking with generous speed.

“Too-too much, I- fuckkk,” you whined as you began to pant, eyes widening as you felt his mouth pull off you.

“You said I could cum.” You breathily pointed out at his absence, about to turn your head around and complain until you felt two of his meaty fingers slowly push into your fluttering pink walls.

“Love watching your cunt get filled up, baby.” His words were purring, rolling off his sick tongue and pooling right into the base of your stomach. It left you whimpering.

You could feel him fill you up to his knuckles, your eyes reeling back into your head as your head laid defeatedly in his mattress.

His lips resumed their place around your clit, suckling just enough that you could feel his teeth grazing your sensitive nub.

It was so much, too much, sooo good.

Your breathing grew labored, your stomach clenching every time his tongue massaged your pussy in just the right way. He had you right where he wanted you. You were worried he would stop again, just like he did the time before, and the time before that, and the time before that.

“Please-” You whimpered tiredly into the sheets, mumbling into the material. “Please don’t leave me.”

You could feel his cheeks quirk up in a smile on your skin. “Not goin’ anywhere kitten, you know I love how you taste.” His words made you gasp, grinding your hips back into his face. Joel was going to let you cum.

The squelching noises of your pussy being fucked by his fingers filled the room, his tongue relentless on you now. You were a whimpering, moaning mess. You could feel your slick trickling down your thigh, a loud moan bellowing out of you as you felt Joel lick up the trail before returning to your cunt.

Finally, you were giving way. Your hips were shaking in his hold, his name coming out in pants as his facial hair tickled you into an unexpected orgasm. You were surprised he finally let you cum even though he had promised you would, your body grilling into the mattress at the pressure points of your body.

“Yes- yesyesyes- Oh! Fuck-” You breathed out, your face crinkling as your long-awaited orgasm thrilled your body. At last, you came. You felt like you could breathe again, think again. Why wasn’t he-

Your tired head looked back at him, watching as he didn’t back off long after your orgasm had come and gone.

“Joel- Joelll-” Your voice went out in half-ass warning since it was a moan. He wasn’t letting up.

“No- Fuck Joel, no, please, I can’t!” Your voice was high-pitched and raw, letting out a long, drawn-out cry of his name as he overstimulated your throbbing clit.

“Yes you can, baby, know you can.” His voice was drenched in sex, dirty old fuck.

You heard a tear, one of your hands having ripped the sheets and making them shred in your hand. You didn’t care, neither did Joel.

His fingers massaged at your walls, curling and searching for that spot that was just right. But you didn’t need it anymore, you could have been done. But Joel never did anything you expected.

The noises of your wet cunt filled the room, along with moans of your name from Joel. He finger fucked you so good you thought you might squirt on his tongue. You were restless, your body moving all around as much as he would allow as you tried to find comfort. It was pointless.

His tongue continued to lap and lick at your swollen clit, feeling it desperately tingle from all the attention. You craved Joel’s touch for over a week, but it was suddenly too much once you finally had it.

Your body was hot despite the cold he conspired against you, your shaky hand reaching back, clutching the hair at the top of his head and fisting it as you kept him against your core. It was so good it hurt, it hurt so much it was good. And since he was already back there, he might as well make you cum again.

The tension was unbearable, your clit begging for a break. But Joel just kept going and going, and suddenly, you were cumming again. Your brain went blank, the orgasm making you numb as you slumped in his hold. It was sweet, overwhelming, but still sweet. He always made you feel good like this, heavenly. Like you were the only woman on Earth he ever spoiled like this.

He cleaned you good, even teasing your clit with random licks that made your body jolt.

You panted tiredly, sweat in every crevice of your body. Your tired eyes only focused on the sheets you shredded, twirling the piece around your finger.

“Joel..” You whispered breathily, your soft eyes looking slowly back at him. Your walls were still fluttering around the intrusion of his fingers, watching as he slowly reeled them back. Now you felt empty. He spread the two digits apart, watching in a sweet fascination the way your slick clung to his fingers. He was sick in the head the way he put them in his mouth and licked them clean.

He looked effortless as he laid down beside you, pulling two whole orgasms and three almost orgasms from you.

“I hate you.” You murmured as your head nuzzled against his shoulder, feeling his arm swing up to let you into his side as his strong arms reeled your limp body into his.

“Y’owe me a new pair of sheets.” His voice also sounded tired, but it was laced with teasing. He reached behind you for his flannel and threw it over your upper half again, a comfort after the storm.

“Needed new sheets anyway. I’ll help you find a better set tomorrow.” You hummed as your tired arm came up to lay on his chest, drawing shapes over his shirt as his hand gently stroked the hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“Let’s see how well you can walk tomorrow. Then we’ll talk.” He sneered, a shy grin on your lips.

“Deal.” —————- Taglist: @jrrmint @gracieispunk @macfrog @strang3lov3 @notjustjavierpena @bastardmandennis @joelslegalwhre If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please reply on this post.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #hellishjoelrequests #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #brat tamer!joel

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thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

The Airhead Chronicles

…and the date

-> pairing: cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> summary: finally the day is here, you’re going on a date with cassian!! now you just have to prepare and get ready for it. Cassian is prepared to finally ask you some questions and the mention of your secret friend rubs him the wrong way. But how does the date go, and who on earth opens the door at Cassian’s friends house?…

-> warnings: suggestive themes, nsfw, smut, super fluff, light angst, public sex, yeah, none of you care about getting caught fucking in a restaurant, oral (m.receiving) , bargain tattoos, almost oral (f.receiving), wing play, daddy kink

-> amara’s note: I think this is one of my fav things to write, I really love ditzy reader, she's so fun and cute.

part 1 part 2

Startled by a sudden knock, you quickly stood up, intrigued by the unexpected visitor. Opening the door, you were met with a smiling man.

“Hi there pretty lady, are you Y/n?” he asked. After exchanging pleasantries, he handed you a paper and a pen, insisting you sign.

Curious, you replied, “Oh, what’s this for, I’m pretty sure I didn’t order anything, or did I?” Sensing your confusion, the man stepped closer and pointed a finger at a dotted line. “Just sign here, baby. How about I come in and show you?”

Normally, you'd agree to some help because you didn’t really like reading long and confusing papers, but with your date approaching, you looked at him apologetic and declined.

“Sorry, maybe next time. I'm getting ready for a date with this really hot guy, and I have a lot of things to do. But why am I signing this?”

His face turned sour, and he threw a bouquet of flowers at you, muttering something about a special delivery before you signed. He left without saying goodbye, and you tilted your head, wondering if you said something to upset him.

The confusion quickly left your mind when you looked down, eyes wide, and heart beating faster as a huge smile spread on your lips. The bouquet was wrapped around white and pink baby breaths and peonies. You let out a shriek of happiness as you spun around and smelled the fresh, fragrant flowers. They were unlike anything else, handled with care and professionalism.

Scurrying to the kitchen, you pulled out a vase from your cabinets as you filled it with water to put your flowers in. While you fiddled with the petals, you saw a note attached as you opened it.

Reading the note, your eyes lit up with excitement. You twirled around, a broad grin on displayed, absorbing the message:

“Can’t wait to see you tonight, beautiful. I will pick you up, just be ready by 8. - Cassian.”

You halted your twirl, taking a deep breath.

Fucking Gods, you had to look absolutely stunnig, like drop-dead gorgeous. The sexiest dress was a non-negotiable, paired with a cute bag. Your hair needed to be freshly styled, and ohhh, a fresh set of nails was a must, even though it hadn't been a week since your last set.

Let’s be real, you knew you were pretty and didn’t need someone to tell you that, but it was nice to hear nonetheless, especially from Cassian. It was weird, you had known him for just over a week and already you felt a connection to him.

With your plans set, you dove into the whirlwind of preparation. The closet became a battleground of choices as you sifted through dresses, searching for the one that screamed "fuck me right now, please." The chosen outfit hung proudly on the door, awaiting its moment. A stunning sheer black dress with a v-neck, a thigh-high slit, and the best part - it sparkled.

Your hair received the full treatment of preparation and care, making you wonder how you’d display it tonight—curls, an updo, low bun or straight? The decision was as crucial as the dress itself, because what if you wanted to blow him? A ponytail would be ideal, but if you were gonna be fucked missionairy then a ponytail would be super uncomfy. Maybe just some curls then? Yes, you definitely wanted some bouncy curls resulting in you pulling out your hair rollers and pins. It was such a pain to put them on because your arms hurt from keeping them up but you didn’t care. Finally, a cute little bag accompanied the ensemble, adding that perfect touch paired with some simple heels.

The urgency for flawlessness led you to contemplate a fresh set of nails. Despite the recent pampering, the allure of perfection beckoned, and you found yourself on the way to the nail salon. After all, a week felt like an eternity when it came to looking drop-dead gorgeous.

As the appointment at the nail salon progressed, you debated between daring and classic shades. The manicurist, familiar to your frequent visits, skillfully crafted a fresh set that made you smile so hard, your face started hurting, letting out an excited sound.

With your nails perfected, you rushed home to continue the transformation, hair and makeup being the last step. Your dress clung to you like a second skin, accentuating every curve. Your reflection in the mirror confirmed your pursuit of drop-dead hotness. Smiling at yourself you adjusted your hair before putting on your jewelry, marveling at the final result. You really hoped Cassian would compliment you otherwise you’d die. His attention was so addicting and you wanted to be around him every single second for some reason.

Glancing at the clock, you realized the incoming arrival of Cassian. The butterflies in your stomach intensified as you added the finishing touches, ready to open the door to a night filled with excitement and allure.

“Hi Cassie!!” Your smile subdued a bit as you shifted nervously when he just stared at you not saying anything. Should you have worn something different? Maybe gone with the pink you wanted? Maybe he didn’t like your hair…

Cassian stood at the door, his eyes widening as he took in your stunning transformation. His brain seemed to short-circuit, and he simply stared at you with his jaw open, momentarily lost for words in the face of your breathtaking appearance. The snug fabric around your frame made blood rush to his cock, a reaction that almost tempted him to slap his own face. "Am I some kind of teenager or something, gods," he thought to himself, caught in the unexpected whirlwind of emotions your presence stirred.

“Hi sweetheart, fuck, you look absolutely breathtaking,” he managed to exclaim, a genuine smile lighting up his face. He spun you around, getting a good luck at you as your perfume filled his nose. Blushing at the compliment, you replied with a happy smile. “Thank you, Cassie. I'm so excited for tonight! Where are we going?”

He offered his arm, and you linked yours with his as you both stepped into the night, ready for the date that awaited. “Don’t worry your pretty, little head about it, it’s a surprise, sweet girl.”

Thank fuck he held you, because you could barely stand with the way your knees wobbled. The urge to just shove him in an alley and give him some life-changing head was just too strong. Cassian looked soooo freaking hot, dressed in a well-fitted suit.His hair had been put in a half bun, arms looking soooo massive, and an inexplicable desire to bite them tugged at your thoughts.

Caught in the spell of his side profile , the world around you seemed to fade into the background. Cassian’s voice became a distant hum as your eyes glued to him.

Your mind went hazy as you found yourself daydreaming about him, captivated by the allure of the moment.

Cassian halted mid-sentence in his talk about the restaurant when he noticed your silence. Curiosity painted his expression as he looked down at you, only to find you hazily looking up at him. Your plump lips were slightly parted, and your eyes were wide and sparkly, lost in a momentary enchantment.

Cassian was going to treat himself to some of Rhysands expensive liquor, it was truly something magical about his restraint. The way you looked up to him made his cock painfully hard. There was something submissive and desperate in your gaze. Before he cancelled the night and took you to his room to fuck you senseless, he broke the silence, chuckling, “I must be boring you with all this restaurant talk. What’s on your mind?”

You blinked, snapping out of the enchantment, and mumbled while feeling warm. “Um, no, not at all, Cassie. I was just… appreciating the view.”

His eyebrows lifted in playful surprise, “The view? Of me?”

You nodded with a secretive grin, “Guilty… I mean I can’t help it. You look so handsome. Now tell me about the restaurant.” The conversation resumed, but the sparkle of that moment lingered, adding an extra layer of magic to the evening.

Your brows furrowed as you read the menu. What on earth was an entrecôte? Foie gras? Was that some sort of joke? It was infuriating and you just wanted some food. Looking up at Cassian, you noticed he had already decided and was looking through the wine list. Feeling helpless, you whispered to him, “Um Cassie, I don’t know what this means. If any of this means mushrooms and cilantro, then let me know, they’re super yucky.”

He took your menu and brought your hand up to place a kiss on it, “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’ll take care of it. How does chicken sound?” You nodded, grateful for the escape from the decision-making. Ugh, was being pretty and living too hard? You just wanted to exist without thinking about annoying things.

Cassian certainly eased it for you.

“Uh-huh, yes please,” you replied. He tilted his head, a playful smile playing on his lips. “My, what good manners you have. A good girl indeed.”

The echo of Cassian calling you a good girl sent a shiver down your spine, nearly sending you into a dreamy state. Resisting the magnetic pull of his warmth became a challenge.

Would it really hurt though? Cassian had rented out an entire section of the restaurant for your date, the only other person you’d see during the whole night was a waiter who kept away unless he was serving you food.

Unable to resist any longer, you inched toward him, lifting yourself. Cassian, sitting manspread, welcomed you onto one of his thighs. As you settled, his arm snaked behind your back, keeping you securely in place as you slung your arm over his shoulder while the other traced circles and shapes on his chest. The world outside this private bubble faded, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared warmth and intimacy.

The waiter discreetly approached, and Cassian smoothly placed the order, his attention never wavering from you. The world outside this secluded moment ceased to exist. He was so content he almost forgot one of the reasons he had been so desperate to see you again. Placing a sweet kiss on your cheek and neck, he asked.

“ I’ve been wondering,” he began, his eyes holding a mixture of curiosity and concern, “ There’s not a lot a know about you, and i’d like to change that. I mean have you always lived in Velaris?” You hummed and answered cheerfully, “ No, I used to live in the Hewn City but a friend helped me move here. My family still live there but they think I live in the Day Court, since Velaris is a secret city and all.”

He observed you carefully, wondering what possible friend could’ve gotten you into Velaris without him or the inner circle knowing? Velaris wasn’t some place one just moved to, it was a secret and protected city, warded against anyone who wasn’t welcome. Your answer only made him more curious.

“Yeah, your friend helped you? Do they live here?” You giggled as you looked at him with a “duh” look.

“Of course my friend still lives here, what a silly question! We meet once a month to catch up and he sometimes brings the family to our get-togethers.”

“ How fun, sweet girl. You’ll have to introduce me to your friend, yeah?” you leaned in as his arm became a comforting weight around your waist.

“Yay, that would be so much fun! He’s like this super old guy that I work for but I promise he’s really funny and his wife is such a sweetheart, I love her.” His heart thundred at the excitement you unknowingly pushed through the bond, making him crack a huge smile. Heavens, your were so adorable, he wanted to see you smile forever. “Is he a good boss then? What is it you do for him?” Flashing him a secret smile, you leaned in conspiratorially as you started playing with the buttons of his crisp white shirt.

“I wish I could tell you Cassie, but it’s tip-top secret and I’m bound to never, ever in a million years tell a single soul. I even have this cool tattoo for it.” You whispered as if afraid anyone would hear you before pulling down the strap of your dress and showing him the bargain tattoo.

Cassian's expression froze, his mind racing to fathom the deal you might have struck. Did you grasp the consequences of Night Court's bargain tattoos? The kind of searing fucking pain that awaited anyone attempting to breach its secrecy? The instincts that come with a mating bond made him feel murdereous at the thought of anyone striking a dangerous deal with his mate.

He didn’t want you experiencing the pain of accidentally telling him about the bargain, so he dropped the subject completely, picking up new things to talk about. While waiting for the meal, you tried to attentively listen as Cassian, the general and commander of the Night Court as he had told you, told you the tales of his thrilling adventures and loving family. But he sometimes used big words that made you tilt your head in confusion, he had however noticed it early on and switched to more simple terms, ensuring your understanding of the topic.

Of all of your years living, you had never felt so safe and cared for as you did here with Cassian. Sure your parents never laid hands on you but they certainly didn’t like you very much, calling you incapable and downright stupid. It hurt you, it really did because you tried but it simply wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Cassian, this gorgeous man, noticed you didn’t understand but he didn’t outright dumb it down for you.

He… just used another word with the same meaning he explained and it really made you happy. Because for some reason, his approval and attention was necessary for you to function and you literally couldn’t imagine him ever being disappointed in you.

After dessert was served, Cassian told the waiter and the chef that you were done eating and paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. They left you all alone in your section and the seclusion made you more bold. You certainly didn’t care if anyone saw you blowing him or anything but… it felt more intimate doing in just for him. You were still sat on his thigh as he spoon fed you the delicious chocolate cake.

Chills ran down your arms upon locking eyes with Cassian, and from your position, you explored his face, fingertips tracing a scar along his eyebrow. Your hand moved over his cheekbones, jaw, nose, and finally, his flawless lips. Drawing close, you both whispered intimately, “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” he rasped, to which you replied in a hushed tone, “Yes, please, Cassie.”

With a tender murmur he said, “my perfect girl,” his soft lips met yours.

As the kiss unfolded, time seemed to slow, encapsulating you both in a world of shared warmth and intimacy. Cassian's lips, soft against yours, the room faded away, leaving only the electric energy between you two. You had kissed plenty people before, but nothing felt as addictive and pleasurable as this.

Cassian’s body shaped perfectly against yours as he pulled you on his lap, making you straddle his hips, legs on either side of him as your dress bunched. His hair was pulled out of his bun as you dragged your manicured nails across his scalp.

He out out a groan as his hands found your hips, his hold tightening as he ground upwards making you moan at the contact.

Breaking the kiss, Cassian's eyes held a newfound tenderness and hunger. “You're something else, you know that?” he whispered, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and affection. A shared smile lingered between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that had just passed between your lips.

A loud shatter was heard as you looked up panting, absolutely forgetting that you two may have a section rented out, but you were still out in public and if anyone wanted to stretch their legs, they certainly wouldn’t miss you grinding in Cassian’s lap, lips puffy and hair tousled.

Cassian couldn’t have cared less even of he tried to. Being the lord of bloodshed, the general leading the armies of the night court, and one of the greatest warriors in the history of Prythian granted Cassian liberties in his eyes. Unlike ordinary fae males, he wasn't restricted from openly displaying affection for his mate at any time or place. There wasn’t a person on earth that could tell him what to do with you.

Fucking in public didn’t scare him or make him feel embarrassed. No, Cassian fucking loved the thrill of being caught. Loved the little voice in his head telling him that someone would be walking in on him pleasuring his mate, your face scrunched up in pleasure as someone catches you, your heartbeat quickening at the taboo scene.

But he’d never in his life put you in a position that made you uncomfortable, he’d rather chop his cock off. So he looked at your face, searching for any fear.

“You okay? Wanna stop, baby?” The thought of you getting off his lap and feeling shame or embarrasement was enough to make him feel nauseous. But that all quickly left when you looked down at him with blushy cheeks, a wide grin on your face as you laughed. “Wow, that sounded really close. Guess you better fuck me quickly Cassie, we wouldn’t want someone to catch us, now would we? I mean that would be soooo bad and we’d be kicked out, right?”

Cassian easily detected the false concern written all over your face. There was a blend of amusement, warmth, and hunger in your expression. You playfully pouted, furrowing your brows in mock thinking as you tilted your head.

Looking up darkly at you he flashed you a feral grin, furrowing his brow in mock thinking. “Of course. It would be very, very bad if someone caught me with my head between your legs, I mean whatever would we do?”

You stood up, hopping up on the table in front of him, propped up like a post-dessert treat with your legs spread infront of his hungry gaze.

“ Let’s find out. I think you missed some of your dessert, baby. Come eat me up, Cassie…” He put his hands around your ankles as he removed your heels, then hissed when he felt your stocking-clad foot rub against his strained cock. Your eyes caught his wings ruffling as curiosity prompted your question.

“Cassie, why are your wings so big? Can I touch them or would it hurt?”

His wings rustled, then tightened in instinct. Illyrian wings were absolutely not to be touched by anyone without invitation, they were to be protected at any cost. His people had been taught to never let anyone get close enough to them, often punching first and then asking questions if someone ever touched them.

“No, sweet girl, they wouldn’t hurt if you touched them. It’s just a sacred part of me that I as an Illyrian protect with my life.” You observed the intricate patterns on his wings, fascinated by the interplay of light and shadow, gold and read hues swirling.

Cassian, sensing your curiosity, continued, “Touching them is a privilege reserved for the one I’ll one day trust deeply, a gesture of profound connection between two mates.” His gaze held a promise, hinting at a deeper connection yet to unfold. You slumped slighty as you realized that you probably weren’t his mate and quickly lowered you rising hand.

“Oh, okay then. They seem really cool anyways, your future mate is quite lucky huh?” Your eyes met his own filled with longing and hope.

Growing up in The Hewn City, the stories of mates filled your imagination, creating a yearning for a connection forged by The Mother Herself. However, your parents swiftly dismissed any ideas of such fantasies, emphasizing a more practical approach to your future. The concept of a deep, equal partnership and lover was a cherished daydream, overshadowed by the reality your parents presented.

Amidst gossip with friends about the mysterious idea of mates, your parents insisted on abandoning these fairytales. Their focus remained fixed on preparing you for a marriage that would secure wealth and influence, mirroring the traditions of countless pairs in the city. The prospect of bringing shame to the family loomed as an unthinkable consequence, one that could lead to disownment or in some cases death.

You were incredibly fortunate to have made a friend that helped you out, otherwise you’d probably be some unhappy bride whose only task would be baby-making and keeping quiet.

Your eyes filled with tears as you started thinking about the male infront of you. If the bond hadn’t snapped for you yet, then you probably weren’t mates and it made you sick thinking that there was someone else out there who’d snatch Cassian up. A hand brushing up your calf brought you back to reality as you were met with eyes filled with worries.

“No, hey, what's going on, sweetheart? Why are you crying, hm?” Cassian asked, concern etched across his face. Overwhelmed by sadness, you slumped forward, letting out deep sobs.

"Don't think m’your mate, Cassie. I really, really wanna be with you forever, but you'll probably choose your mate if they ever come along. Also, I probably have a mate somewhere, and I feel like we shouldn't keep going because I'm falling for you, like really hard, and I really don't think I'd survive it if we ended things before they even really started.”

Your wrecked sobs made him sick with guilt. The realization that he was the cause of your tears hit hard. His hands found their way to your back, gently caressing it as he tried to provide comfort. Unable to bear it any longer, he blurted out the words before more sobs could escape,

“ I’m your mate. I felt the bond snap the first time we met, baby. I didn’t want to you to feel like you had to accept the bond or feel pressured to discover it. I wished for you to find out on your own, at your own pace. And I’m truly sorry for the pain i’ve caused you. If I had known this was something you really wanted, I would’ve told you straight away, sweet girl. I was wrong to assume and I’m deeply sorry. Please forgive me?”

Cassian’s words hung in the air, a revelation that shifted the atmosphere between you. Stunned, you looked up, eyes searching his for any sign of anger or irritation at your sudden breakdown or any deception. His gaze, however, held a sincerity that echoed in the depths of your shared connection, held a mix of pain, guilt and sadness paired with hope.

“You’re really mine? My mate?” the question was carried by your whispering voice. Cassian nodded and confirmed,

“Yes, i’m yours as you are mine.” The words triggered that golden bond, snapping the thread of life and love deep in your chest. Holding a hand to your chest, you looked at him breathing deeply.

“Mate. You’re my mate!” you shrieked and kissed all over his face, ending with a big kiss on his lips, making him laugh.

“Um, so can i now touch ‘em?” you questioned as you nodded your head in the direction of his massive wings. His back straightened and he explained,

“My wings have never been out during intimate encounters with females. It makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like it. But for you… for you I’d pluck the stars from the night sky if you asked me. Go ahead, sweetheart but be careful they can be quite-”

He didn’t even finish his sentence when he felt your warm hands caressing the ridge of his leathery wings. Cassian twisted in his seat when you went over a certain spot. His whole body flashed with warmth, leaving a trail of goosepumps as his stomch flipped.

His face revealed delight, accompanied by low groans as your nails traced over the delicate wing. Intrigued, you inquired about the sensation. He leaned in, softly blowing air near your ear, eliciting goosebumps and a slight arch in your body.

He knew he’d come undone if you kept touching him so he picked you up, swept everything away from the table and put you on your back. Perhaps he should’ve been more quiet because when the waiter hurriedly came to check on the broken dishes, he received a savage snarl, so unlike the usually levelheaded male.

“ Get. Out.” Your mate gritted towards the poor fae. He’d make sure to leave another huge tip, but he didn’t have time to think of it now that the bond was so fresh and there was a male staring down his half naked mate. Cassian finally turned his attention to you when you grabbed his cock through his slacks.

“ c’mon mate, need you so bad, please.” you grabbed the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours as you whined and mumbled about needing his cock inside you. Any sort of foreplay was out of the question, you’d play later. You felt like you might literally die if you didn’t feel him closer to you right now.

You were consumed by an overwhelming desperation, feeling as if you'd burst out of your skin without his immediate presence. The ache for more of him intensified, a desperate longing for his touch to ravage you entirely. Tears welled in your eyes as you begged, desperate to be fucked right there, yearning to be claimed by your mate.

The desperation in your voice spurred cassian on as his hands skillfully removed his belt, pulling out his hard cock as he slid in and out, again and again and again. Rocking the table as he thrust into you hard, filling you up deliciously. Your mouths found each other in a deep kiss as you pulled his hair, earning a deep groan.

“You’re so fucking beautiful all spread out for me. My precious mate,” he mumbled against you.

“mmh, harder please- fucking me soo gooddd” You moaned. The pleasure was building up in your belly making you squirm against him “Please, daddy, let me cum.”

He halted all his movements, pulling you out of your bubble of pleasure. Why did he stop? You felt your high fizzle down as you felt tears in your eyes. “Cassie, why did you stop? I almost finished… s’not fair” you whined, crossing you arms as you looked away, feigning disbelief and anger.

You seriously hadn’t noticed what you called him? Were you fucked out already? Well, whatever. Cassian’s ego boosted immensely at the fact that you had mindlessly called him daddy.

“You’re so good for me, such a beautiful, beautiful girl. My mate makes me proud.”

His praise made you simultaneously melt against his body yet tighten around his cock as a new rush of slick gushed out of you. Bringing his one hand to your nipple while the other played with your clit, Cassian was determined to make you cum then take you home. It had to be your house because he really couldn’t promise he wouldn’t attack Rhys or Azriel if they laid their eyes on you, let alone saw your vulnerable, fucked out state.

The simultaneous pleasure made your head spin as you grabbed his arm to steady youself.

“feels..” you swallow the glob of saliva pooling on your tongue. “f-feels s’good, daddy. m’gonna cum…” His thrusts didn’t slow down as he was met by your relaxed expression - your eyes had crossed as your tongue lolled out a bit, making you drool. A few more pumps and he felt his knees wobble with intensity. You screams of pleasure were muffled by his hand as you came.

“gotta be quiet baby, lest someone catches us” groaning out the last part, Cassian pumps once, twice and finishes deep inside with as he slumps forward, head nuzzled against your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

Driven by the fresh mating bond, he succumbed to a primal urge, covering your naked and relaxed form. Desperation fueled his actions, and protective instincts surged as he struggled with the dilemma of getting you home without causing harm, his every move tinged with the urgency of preserving your safety.

Wanting more, you pull him closer and wrap your legs around him. “daddy, i want more. please let’s go home because the table is kinda uncomfy n i wanna be on my bed instead.” Hands slither around you, pulling you up with as you clung to him. He drops a stack of money on the table to cover what he destroyed plus an appreciation for leaving him alone, gods know he would’ve shown no restraint if that waiter had been a little more bold.

“ s’okay cas i got this,” the whole restaurant fades into black before a cozy porch is replaced with the murmur of the restaurant. You’d winnowed home but not inside, leaving you right outside the door.

“ Sweetie, is your house warded or are you capable of winnowing inside too?” you shook your head and giggly responded,

“ mm, no, my house is protected from bad guys and only people i want can get inside. My friend fixed it for me, he’s super nice and you should totally meet him sometime.” The mention of another guy leaving your lips was enough for Cassian to make his eyes twitch but you looked so happy so he just nodded in agreement.

Opening the door, you welcomed Cassian into your cozy house. As he stepped in, his widened as his eyes roamed across the spacious hallway featuring a body-length mirror, perfect for a quick self-check before heading out, you told him. The hall led to a spacious living room with high ceilings exuding luxury, and the massive kitchen boasted pink appliances, a charming detail that seemed to define your style, he noticed.

His smile widened as he took in the cutesy and predominantly pink decor scattered throughout the house. It was a unique touch that resonated with your personality. As you guided him up the stairs, he marveled at the size of the home, realizing it was quite spacious for a single person.

Passing by several empty rooms, you finally opened the grand bedroom. The king-sized bed with frilly white sheets and an array of pink pillows dominated the space, surrounded by what seemed like an army of stuffed animals, a table adorned with the flowers he sent you this morning. Turning to the left he say your huge closet with clothes littered over the floor. You ran and closed the door behind you, leaning against it as you let out a nervous laugh, “ oh, that’s just my closet. it’s a bit messy so let’s just not look there.”

You bit your lips as your eyes squinted in the dim light. He looked so delicious and you wanted more. wanted your mate, closer. Despite being mere feet apart, an insatiable need for closeness overcame you. Closing the gap, you kissed him, reigniting the connection that began at the restaurant, determined to continue it throughout the night.

The night with your mate unfolded in a series of intimate moments, he put you in new positions and taught you pleasures you never imagined. His expertise left you in a constant state of bliss, with every moment dedicated to mutual satisfaction. You had slept for about an hour or two before going at it again when he stood up and stretched, the sight enough for you to tackle him and ride him right there on your fluffy carpet.

As dawn approached, you marveled at the fact that you had enough restraint to let him slip away and prepare breakfast. The lingering sensations and shared experiences had created a bond that extended beyond the physical, making the morning after feel like a continuation of the enchanting night. Now you laid in the protective arms of you lover, looking at him while biting your lips to keep from pouncing in him.

“If you keep staring at me like that, we won't leave the house ever,” you looked away from his gaze, blushing furiously.

“Maybe I don't wanna leave the house. I wanna be with you forever and ever, cassie” you whispered, nestling closer and kissing his cheek, a familiar gesture of affection.

He chuckled warmly, deeply and kissed you back before your broke the kiss.

“Cas, you mentioned your friends live here. Can I meet them? You spoke about them like you really, really love them,”you inquired, sensing a shift in the air as his grip tightened around you.

“Another time, sweetheart. Right now, I need you alone. I can't even think about leaving you,” he confessed, his tone carrying a protective intensity.

“Do you know much about the mating bond?” you explained that you knew it was two people fated together in a perfect match but that was all your parents allowed you to know. He nodded and explained,

“A newly mated couple can be very... let's say, unstable. There have been many cool and collected males and females who lost their minds when someone laid their eyes on their mate for too long. Sane people have abandoned all critical thinking wherever their mate is involved. Their first and only thought is their mate’s safety and happiness. People have died for provoking newly-mated. So, please, give me a little time because there's a very likely chance I might kill someone for looking at you a bit too much." This…frenzy will cool down after a while but it’s very intense when it’s so new.”

The gravity in his words conveyed the depth of his commitment and the primal instincts that fueled it.

You were fucked in the head for sure because the realization that Cassian would fiercely protect you, even kill someone for you, sent a thrilling shiver down your spine, an unconventional yet undeniably arousing form of desire.

Without a word, you shuffled down, ready to express your gratitude and desire in a way that words could never fully convey, letting your mouth and hands express your love and gratitude.

—

For almost three weeks, you reveled in the cocoon of intimacy, exploring every inch of each other's souls and bodies within the confines of your shared space. Cassian's presence became a comforting constant, and there wasn't a single room in the house that he hadn’t fucked you in. Repeatedly.

However, the inevitable reality of his responsibilities tugged at Cassian's conscience. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkening slightly as he confessed,

“I hate to say this, baby, but I have to go back. My family is looking for me, and they're worried.”

A pout formed on your lips as the idea of him leaving weighed heavily on your heart.

“You really gotta go?” Your doe-eyes mirrored the sadness and pain of his departure, glossing over in tears at the thought of him not being by your side.

One look into your eyes and he knew there was no chance he could leave you.

“You know what, fuck that. There's no way I'm leaving you. So how would you feel about meeting my family?”

Cassian dropping the idea of meeting his family made you think. Would they like you? He always spoke highly of them, and it got you wondering if you'd measure up. You knew you weren't the brightest tool in the shed or however the saying went but you hoped they'd see something in you that's good enough for him. The old voices of your parents kept echoing in your head.

"You're only good if you keep your mouth shut."

"How did I end up with such a dumb daughter?"

"You’re prettier when you don't talk."

Cassian sensed your unease, and he gently took your hands, looking into your eyes with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, don't worry about a thing. My family will adore you as much as I do. You're more than enough, just the way you are.”

His words carried a sincerity that eased the knots in your stomach. You peppered kisses all over his face and mentally thanked him for the reassurance.

He laughed, kissing you and repeating those reassuring words until it was time to leave. Putting on a cute, blue summer dress, you skipped alongside him, blissfully unaware of the imposing aura he now exuded due to the fresh bond.

As the beautiful estate by the river came into view, you marveled at the picturesque landscape. Holding a homemade cake in one hand and Cassian's hand in the other, you both approached the door.

However, huge confusion struck as your eyes widened upon seeing who opened it.

🏷️ taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy

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jamdoughnutmagician · 1 year

Text

From Me to You.

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary:Eddie finds a love letter pushed through his locker, and he’s determined to find out who his secret admirer is.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of, just tooth-rotting Valentine’s day fluff! Slight use of "y/n" sorry I couldn't escape it!!

Word Count:1,867

Authour’s Note:My life is so devoid of any kind of romance, so I though what better way to resolve that than to write some cutesy Valentine’s Day fic with everyone’s favourite metal-head? Maybe I'm posting this a little early, but I'm pretty pleased with how this turned out (since I suck at writing fluff) and I wanted to share it!

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie, oh no, that couldn’t be further from the truth. However, having to admit to your crush on your best friend? Well that was a whole other story.

So, your big plan was to leave little secret admirer notes in Eddie’s locker in the week leading up to Valentine’s day on Friday. It was an easy way to confess your love to him, without the sting of rejection coming to bite you in the ass.

The Monday after your last class you waved Eddie goodbye as he made his way to the drama room where the Hellfire club would be meeting for their latest campaign. Although you didn't share his love of Dungeons and Dragons, you were still as close as friends could be, only you didn't want to be just his friend.

Waiting for him to disappear out of sight, you look around to check the coast is clear before you slip the hand-written note into his locker. Pushing the folded up piece of paper through the vented slats in his locker, you make your way out of the school.

All you have to do now is just have to wait until tomorrow to find out if your little secret mission was successful.

_______

Eddie strolled into school that Tuesday morning, opening up his locker to put away his things, but as he did so, a small folded up piece of paper fell to the floor. Piquing his curiosity, he bent down to pick up the paper. Unfolding it carefully his eyes scanned over the nice hand-written message inside.

Your smile is my favourite thing and it brightens my day

He glances at the swirling joined up writing and how the little hearts dot the I’s and he finds his face warming with a blush.

“What’ve you got there then, Ed?” Gareth asks noisily, causing the rest of the members of Corroded Coffin to turn their heads to their lead guitarist.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Eddie says defensively as he stuffed the note in his pocket.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Gareth dropped the subject and they guys went about the rest of their school day.

_______

The next day, Eddie goes to open his locker and surprisingly another note falls at his feet.

Quickly he bends to pick it up before anyone notices that he’s received another note. Unfolding the paper he reads the message.

You give me butterflies

He reasons that it must be the same person that it was from yesterday, because the handwriting is exactly the same and the I’s are still dotted adorably with the same little hearts.

As quick as his hopes get up at the thought of someone writing him little love notes,his thoughts are pulled in the direction that this must be some sort of prank. It had to be, right? Why else would anyone leave the school’s ‘freak’ sweet notes like this if not for some kind of twisted joke.

Jason Carver and his gang probably thought the idea that someone might have a crush on Eddie, laughable. Yeah, he thinks to himself, that sounds more plausible.

Speak of the devil.

Jason and his crew make their way past him laughing loudly and obnoxiously. Right, that's it.

Eddie stormed up to Jason, poking an accusing finger in his face.

“I bet you think this is really funny, don’t you Carver?”

“What do you want, freak?” Jason barks out.

“You, leaving those little notes in my locker.” Eddie jabs.

Eddie looks at Jason for a moment, a look of genuine confusion gracing the features of the basketball player, his brows knitted together, before he huffs out an incredulous laugh.

“In your dreams, Munson” Jason laughs in his face as he pushes past Eddie.

Okay…So maybe this wasn’t a joke. Well who was sending Eddie anonymous love letters?

_______

I want to hold your hands and kiss your face

Another day, another note. Eddie was still none the wiser as to who exactly was putting these love letters in his locker. Right, he thought to himself, he was going to need some help if he had any chance of finding out who this secret admirer of his was.

Strolling through the doors of Family video, Eddie had decided to recruit the help of the only person he could think that would actually be of any help to him. Even if it did mean that he would have to show all the notes he’d received with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You’ve been getting anonymous love letters put in your locker?” Steve asks

“Well..yeah?” Eddie answers.

“...And you’re absolutely sure you have no idea who this is?” Steve presses.

“Well at one point I thought Carver was doing it, you know, for a joke..but I confronted him about it yesterday and that turned out about as well as you can imagine” Eddie explains

“Do you have some that you want it to be?” Steve quizzes, as he watches the metal-head’s expression change instantly, flushing scarlet rising from his chest to his cheeks and the tips of his nose. “Aha!” -Steve exclaims, jabbing his finger towards Eddie- “So you are thinking of someone then?”

Luckily, Eddie was saved from the embarrassment of admitting to his crush on one of his best friends by Robin interrupting his and Steve’s conversation.

“What are you two dorks gabbing about over there?” She shouts making her way from the back of Family video where she was rearranging a stack of horror films.

“Munson here has got himself a secret admirer.” Steve says, cocking his thumb towards Eddie. “Said he’s been getting these little love notes slipped in his locker” Steve continues with his teasing.

“Oooh!! Let me see ‘em!!” Robin squeals excitedly.

Scattering the piece of paper out onto the countertops, the boys watch as Robin reads through each of the messages. Her eyes scan over the words, and her eyebrows draw together, and her expression one of surprise.

“You alright over there, Rob? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which considering what we’ve been through, is the last thing that should have you looking like that.” Steve joked.

“Shut up, Dingus.” Robin says, shushing Steve holding her pointer finger up at him. “Eddie, I think I might know who your secret admirer is.”

The two boys look at Robin with wide eyes and bated breath.

Robin turns her back and hot-foots it to the back room of Family video.

“I thought you were going to tell us who it is?” Eddie shouts after his friend.

“Hold your horses will 'ya, Munson?!” she shouts back over her shoulder.

Robin returns with a wide grin gracing her freckled features as she slams down a sheet of A4 lined paper on the counter top.

“What the hell’s this?” Steve said, looking even more confused than before.

“These are the notes that I borrowed from y/n, for Kominski’s class yesterday. Now I don’t know about you guys, but I’d say that that swirly handwriting looks very familiar to me.” Robin says proudly, like she’s decoded the most cryptic of secret messages.

Eddie and Steve lean in closer to compare the handwriting in the love letters, to the handwriting in the classroom notes.

“I mean, apart from the little hearts that are dotting the I’s, I would say that is the exact same handwriting” Robin points out.

“So, y/n, huh?” Steve says, letting the thought hang in the air.

If Eddie was blushing before, his whole face must’ve looked like a tomato at this point,

“Judging by your very red and embarrassed face, I’m going to guess that you like her too, right?” Robin asks.

Steve and Robin look at Eddie as he shyly scratches the back of his neck

“Okay, yeah I like her..I like her a lot actually.”

“But isn’t tomorrow Valentine’s day?” Steve throws out.

“Oh this is perfect!” Robin jumps up and down excitedly. “Here’s what you’re going to do…” she began as she brought Eddie closer to tell him her plan.

_______

Sticking to the plan that Robin (and Steve who got dragged into it by Robin) helped him with, Eddie got up early for school for once in his life. That morning he showered, and dressed in a clean Black Sabbath shirt (that he’d previously ironed that evening, earning a raised eyebrow from his uncle, and hung up ready to put on in the morning.)

Dressed and ready to leave, he picked up the bunch of red roses that he’d bought from the Valentine’s day section in town yesterday evening after leaving Family Video.

He’d called you and asked if you needed a lift on the way to school, and knowing you the way he did, you would much prefer to ride with him in his van than take the school bus.

“Son..” Uncle Wayne called out to Eddie as he was just about to go through the door. “Good luck today, you be nice to that girl, alright?” His gruff voice huffs out.

“I will Wayne, I can promise you that.” Eddie throws over his shoulder with a wide grin as he makes his way to his van.

_______

Pulling up to your house, he parks his van and takes a moment to catch his breath before grabbing his bunch of roses and walking to your front door.

Squaring his shoulders he raises his knuckles to your door to deliver a confident knock.

“I’m coming!!” he hears you shout from inside the house.

You unlock the door to see your best friend hiding his face behind a bouquet of beautiful red roses before handing them to you.

“These are for you. Happy Valentine’s day” he says as you kindly accept the flowers from him.

Although you had smiled when he’d given you the flowers, he could still sense your confusion at his gesture.

“I got your notes…I thought they were really cute y’know and truth be told when I read them I kind of hoped they were from you.” he rambled, feeling that familiar heat flushing across his cheeks.

“How did you figure out it was me?” you ask.

“Well it wasn’t easy, but Robin and Steve helped me figure it out…mostly Robin, though..” he chuckles.

There’s a moment's silence between the two of you where you’re both looking into each other’s eyes.

Feeling bold, you rise up on your tip-toes to place a quick peck to Eddie’s cheek. You feel him smile brightly under your lips.

“Thanks for the flowers, Ed. They’re beautiful”

“You missed.” he says with a look of disappointment in his deep brown eyes.

“Huh?”

“You missed.” he says again, smirking as he points to his lips.

“Take me on a date first, and then we can see about that kiss, Ed” you giggle.

“Let me take you to the movies tomorrow? We can hold hands and do all that cute shit that you’re supposed to do on a first date” he looks to you excitedly.

“I’d love to!”

“Great! I’ll come pick you up at seven?”

“It’s a date” You smile back at him.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things s4

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strawberrystepmom · 7 months

Text

pairing: werewolf!kakashi hatake x f!reader

word count: 5.2k

about: your boyfriend leaves you alone for one week every month and you can never seem to put your finger on why. convinced he’s cheating, you book a romantic getaway to pin him down and figure him out. while preparing to leave, you instead discover the hairy secret he has been keeping from you all this time.

contents: nsfw - mdni. cw knotting, cw mating, cw breeding kink. miscommunication with resolution, established relationship, piv sex, vaginal fingering, reader has breasts and is referred to as pretty and mate multiple times, reader has pubic hair, few mentions of birth control (reader is on it but method is not specified), sloppy and messy sex (saliva is mentioned but there is no specific instance of spitting)

notes: part of thot-o-ween 2023! ngl i had the most fun writing this one out of the whole group this far and i hope that it shows and you enjoy reading it! thanks for the support the last four weeks and i'm so glad we are getting into the thick of the good stuff now. ♡

“Don’t be ridiculous, he absolutely adores you.”

Despite the consistent reassurance of your best friend, you aren’t certain that your boyfriend Kakashi does adore you.

It’s not that he isn’t wonderful because he is. Supportive, serious without being a bore, and surprisingly humble - these are all things it takes no effort for you to feel and say about him. Despite this, you can’t shake the nagging distrust you’ve felt since he told you he’s going on his once a month week long business trip. Unfortunately, this time it coincides with a romantic getaway you tried to book for the two of you as a surprise. Despite days of trying to convince yourself that it’s nothing and you have nothing to worry about with his cyclical departures, you have a really bad feeling.

“I can’t explain it but my intuition is going crazy. It feels like he’s lying to me.”

Your mind has played through all of the reasonable possibilities for his departure and is now filtering through the unreasonable ones. The “he has a family he’s hiding from me” paranoia pings between your ears like a racing pinball and your friend can tell, her face set in a displeased frown. She has been placating you for the past five months, politely shoving you in the direction of speaking your mind to the man, but she knows you’re uncomfortable with the idea.

She reaches across the small table the two of you sit at, dotted with discarded napkins and cups full of rapidly melting ice, and grabs your hands between hers. You appreciate the gesture and squeeze her fingers with your thumbs, smiling softly.

“You already know my advice because I’ve given it freely. What you do next is completely up to you.”

Nodding, you know she’s right. She has told you to confront him, to snoop, to follow him and these all sound like wonderful ways to handle the issue in theory. In practice, though? That’s a different story.

Dropping her hands and picking your phone up from the table, you sigh and open the little green bubble that is the messages app. Kakashi’s thread is at the top of your list and you open it, smiling looking at his sweet wishes of a good evening with your friend.

Hope you’re having fun. See you soon. ��

“I booked that cabin before he told me he was leaving, do you think I should still tell him about it?”

Your friend nods firmly, sticking to her earlier advice.

“Yes, you should have told him as soon as you planned the getaway but maybe he can arrange something with work if he knows. It’s still a week out.”

Sighing, you nod in agreement and tap out a message in response to your boyfriend, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.

I know this is kind of off the cuff and you already told me you’re going to be gone but I booked a cabin for all of next week for the two of us. If you can’t make it, I understand. Romantic surprises are so hard sometimes!

The message whooshes and shows as sent, the blue text bubble sitting as heavy as the anxiety in your stomach. It’s long winded and something you probably should have said in person rather than via text but considering how nauseous you already feel anticipating his answer, you think this may have been for the best. You lock your phone and place it back down, not wanting to stare at the screen any longer, and the waitress comes to drop off your check.

Just as you reach for the little black tray with your receipt, your phone pings and your eyebrows raise. You smile at the waitress as you slide your card onto the tray and send her off, picking up your phone as soon as it’s not rude to do so.

You are so thoughtful. Don’t worry about not saying something sooner, I will see what I can figure out. Thank you for doing something so sweet.

Maybe your mind really has been playing tricks on you. It’s hard to hide your grin as you pass the phone across the table and your friend smiles as she reads as well, holding her hands out and tilting her head.

“See? Good communication is key.”

You know she’s right.

Across town, though, Kakashi paces the floor of his bedroom wondering how the fuck he is going to make this work.

How he ended up landing someone like you is still beyond his rational understanding. You are too good to be true and booking a surprise romantic getaway, in any other situation, would be a gift. A luxury, even. Time spent with you, secluded, watching the autumn leaves fall? He couldn’t dream of anything more but next week simply does not work for him.

Pressing the screen of his phone wildly, he swipes through apps until he finds his moon phase tracker, popping open the calendar to see when exactly the full moon falls. He’ll get more details from you later but if you booked it from Monday to Sunday, he may be able to pull off leaving early but staying for most of the time. The full moon falls on Friday and realistically if he spent the week with you up until Thursday, he may be able to pull it off.

Sighing, he slumps down on the edge of his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. The luck he has had over the last few months hiding his secret from you has been nothing short of fortuitous and he’s glad for your trust in him even though it eats him up to lie about his whereabouts for a week every single month.

Putting you at risk is the last thing the man would ever want to do so he’s already taking a huge chance trying to make this week work knowing that his hormones are stronger in certain months rather than others. He has felt overcome by his instincts this entire month, it’s the reason he has buried himself in busy work rather than spending his free time with you, but he knows that if he hangs you out to dry this week it could result in him losing you.

That’s simply not an option he’s willing to entertain so he will figure it out despite how it makes his gut twist and his mind race.

Swiping off of the moon cycle app, he opens his messages and the cursor blinks at him tauntingly while he considers what to say.

I can come along Monday through Thursday if that’s alright with you?

Tapping the little blue arrow that sends the message off to you, he feels a weight on his shoulders that he can’t quite name. It’s sadness because he knows eventually he’ll have to tell you the truth about himself or let you go but selfishly, he wants to put it off for as long as he possibly can.

Something about you makes him believe that those old stories his dad told him growing up about their kind having fated mates may have been true. His mother was his father’s mate, she knew of his secret and kept it until the day she died, and despite this harsh world, Kakashi has always kept the smallest kindling of hope that it could be true.

Then he met you and his body all but told him it was, the ruts coming more consistently and stronger, lasting for longer than they ever have. What started as one day a month he had to hide away to keep from exposing himself became two days, and then three, and then an entire week having to seclude himself from you to keep from giving into his more base urges.

Another sigh leaves the man and he taps his feet against the floor beneath them impatiently, clutching his phone in his palm. Three pings in succession make him lift it to his face, squinting slightly thanks to the brightness of the screen, but he smiles reading your words.

Omg yay!!!

I’m glad to get you for even that long

Thank you for making it work for me

It’ll be a risk but he’s willing to take it to see your pretty smile and to spend time cozied up reading and watching your silly shows and enjoying each other.

It’ll all be worth it as long as he can keep control.

The days leading up to the trip pass uneventfully for you but Kakashi feels differently with each hour that passes, especially today.

He’s hot. Cloyingly and overwhelmingly, to the point he has to lay on his couch in nothing but boxers and an old tank top dug out of the back of his dresser drawer to try and cool down. Sweat glistens across his skin and his very bones ache, all of the blood in his body running to his cock and making it impossible for him to think.

When you arrive at his apartment to spend the night in order to make leaving in the morning simpler, you’re shocked to see him lying on the couch with one hand down his boxers halfheartedly playing with his hard cock with one arm thrown over his eyes. His cheeks are pink and he’s panting, only glancing up briefly when the door opens and shuts. He scrambles to sit up but you can tell he’s struggling, his abs tensing with every breath he takes.

“Oh babe, are you alright?”

Dropping your bags at the front door, you rush to his side and kneel on the ground next to where he is strewn across the sofa. You press the back of your hand to his clammy cheek and coo, your other hand tangling in his unruly hair and combing it away from his forehead. He doesn’t uncover his eyes but his breathing is so heavy you worry something is seriously wrong with him.

“Kakashi, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need to go to urgent care?”

He shakes his head and groans, chest still heaving and you notice the tip of his cock peeking above the waistband of his boxers. It looks the same as you remember it in every way except for the color - so red, as if it’s blushing to be spotted and leaking a pool of sticky pre-cum onto the barely exposed skin his tank top isn’t covering. You know the two of you have been too busy the last several days to spend much quality time together and sex hasn’t been possible but you’ve never seen someone so horny they’re actually ill because all current signs point to that being the exact issue.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Embarrassment keeps him from opening up. Kakashi is ashamed of who he is, a beast more than a man, and he’s even more ashamed that he has no way of keeping the secret from you any longer. This rut is too strong and he needs you to leave lest his instincts take over his logic. Pulling his arm from over his eyes, he tries to sit up and you assist him to the best of your ability, his cock throbbing through the thin fabric of his boxers and catching your eye despite your attempts to focus on his handsome face. His stormcloud colored eyes have never looked more tumultuous than they do right now and you reach out to cup his face, only for him to gently grasp your wrist and pull you away.

“Don’t touch me.”

The look on your face, brows pinched and mouth agape, reminds him that he’s a monster and not a man and he should have never brought you into his life. The only thing he can do is hurt you. His grip on your wrist is gentle and he loosens it further but you capture his hand in your own, eyes brimming with tears of frustration.

“Please tell me what’s happening,” your voice cracks as you speak and you feel warm tears spill down your face, irritated by your own ability to hold it together, but your worst fears are coming true in front of you. Something is off about your boyfriend, you were right, and now he’s denying your touch when he clearly needs it. “I just want to know the truth.”

The truth would be a heavy burden for both of you and the last thing he wants to do is force you to carry it with him despite the pleading look in your eyes and your quivering bottom lip.

“What are you hiding from me?”

Your voice cracks again and his heart breaks all over, gray eyes trained on your face despite his disgust with himself. Despite the tears and the way they blur your vision, you scan his face and drink in every feature because despite how you feel right now, you love this man. You were hoping to tell him so this week, tucked away in the idyllic countryside, and now you feel the dream slipping away from you.

“Are you married? Do you have another life?”

Desperation for the truth makes your hands shake and he shakes his head, blowing a breath out of his lips. He continues to feel so hot it’s painful, like he’s burning alive, and he is resisting inhaling and choosing to breathe through his mouth instead to keep from catching your scent that is gradually replacing all of the fresh air in the apartment.

Allowing you to hold his hand, he sits forward and looks you in the eyes. If his gut feeling is real, if what he believes about you is true, then he needs to be honest. If you are his mate then you’ll understand. His voice shakes when he speaks and you scoot forward on your knees, closing the distance between your bodies as much as possible, still kneeling on the floor next to him.

“I think I should be offended that you’d even think that about me.”

Despite yourself, you laugh and he hides a smile of his own, eyes darting away from you. He pulls you up to your feet and scoots over on the couch, hissing as you occupy his space even further. You are affecting him more strongly than you ever have and his self control thins with every moment that passes.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know what else to think. The weeks away, the secrecy, all of it…my mind has filled in the blanks I don’t understand.”

Kakashi nods. He understands, he truly does, knowing that his behavior has been less than exemplary while he has tried to keep his secret from you, but he wants to right his wrong while his mind is still clear. His cock throbs angrily, still pressing against the bottom of his stomach even while he sits, and he knows it’s now or never.

“This is going to sound ridiculous but I’m not what you think I am.”

Tilting your head to the side, you look over your handsome boyfriend and wonder what he could mean. Is he lying about his job or where he’s from? He can tell you aren’t following so he looks away from you and tries again, spitting out the words he himself has tried to run from his entire life.

“I’m only half a man, the other half of me is something else entirely.”

Again, you look lost and he grasps your hands in his own hot ones and chuckles, letting his eyes shut.

“Werewolf. I’m a werewolf.”

He opens his eyes at the sound of your surprised laughter and he’s met with the smile he has found himself falling more in love with every single day, your nose scrunching the way he finds utterly adorable.

“Kakashi…” you start but he squeezes your hands and shoots you a look so earnest you feel guilty for ever questioning him. His cheeks have turned from pink to flaming red, the same color as the engorged tip that is still peeking out over the top of his boxers. Your jaw drops and he groans, eyes falling to your lips.

“What is happening right now is called a rut and unbonded men like me go through them occasionally.” You nod, understandingly. You are always unfailingly kind and patient to him, more so than he deserves for lying to you all these months. He takes your silence as permission to keep speaking and you remove your hand from his to push his sweat slicked hair off of his forehead, noticing the way his nostrils flare with your touch. “Mine have been happening more frequently than that, though, because of you.”

He expects to have lost you again and to see confusion on your face when his eyes flit up to look at you but instead he sees a sweet, almost nervous, half smile. You don’t know what he means or how you could possibly be affecting his rut but the insinuation that you have this strong of an impact on him is flattering to say the least.

Arousing too, you think while pressing your thighs together. Your focus shifts from the heat in your own core to Kakashi and you lean your head on his shoulder.

“How can I help you through this?”

Your boyfriend is far from shocked that this is your next question for him but he’s grateful, shaking his head and gazing at you nervously from the corner of his eye. You have been surprisingly okay with everything so far, or at least it seems like it, but he worries how you’ll react if he tells you everything.

“Well, ruts are usually resolved by…well, for lack of a better word, mating.” Nodding, you keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder. “It’s not just, you know, having sex like we usually do. It’s more than that.”

You shift where you sit and he watches you intently, gasping when you move to straddle him and sit on top of his thighs. His bulge presses against your core and you hum, still combing your fingers through his hair. Those instincts he was dreading continue to work at him, his mind all but overwhelmed with the sight and scent of you, and his mouth fills with saliva.

“I can handle a few days of fucking if that’s what will make you feel better,” you smile and press a kiss to his forehead, his hands finding their way to your hips and holding them tightly. His grip is harsher than he has ever touched you but it doesn’t hurt, it’s simply anchoring you in place. “But if that’s not all, I will do anything you need.”

He chuckles lowly, the sound sexy and ringing in your ears, and you instinctively grind down on his lap to relieve the tension of your own arousal. It doesn’t take much to turn you on, not when it comes to him, but the mystery of what you have to look forward to makes your head swim.

“I, uh…well, I’d need to knot you.”

Your eyebrows raise and your eyes glisten with mischief watching him search for the right thing to say.

“What does that entail?”

Again he sighs, cock throbbing painfully, and you press your lips to his forehead again. He holds you in place to keep your hips from grinding or bumping against him. His mind is growing fuzzier with each passing second and he doesn’t need the encouragement of your luscious hips to turn him into something he can’t explain away with a conversation. He’s teetering on the edge of it anyway.

“You’re familiar with my dick, of course, but when I’m rutting it’s different. It’s…” He trails off again and you reach down between your bodies, snapping the elastic waistband of his boxers. You smirk, the little temptress that you are, and he groans in defeat.

“Show me.”

Despite his brain telling him not to, he nods, happy to bend to your whims as long as you’re okay with what you see. He shifts where he sits, keeping you anchored to his lap with one hand and he uses the other to pull his boxers down around his thighs. You gasp when you notice the thickened base, larger than you’ve ever seen it and swollen.

“This is your knot?”

He nods, eyes fixed on your face as you inspect the newest part of his anatomy, to you anyway, and he’s relieved to see nothing but curiosity on your face. Your hand drifts back between your bodies and you squeeze the base of him, his knot almost too large for your hand to wrap around, and his hips buck into the touch. He pants, chest heaving with each breath, but you keep your grip intact.

“So let me make sure I have this right,” you start and he nods to indicate that he’s listening despite the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling at your touch, lower lip tucked between his teeth. “You need to knot your mate to get through this and feel better?”

He nods again, happy that he doesn’t have to explain the gory details and that you were able to fill in the blanks on your own.

“Do you know who your mate is? Is it someone I need to go find for you?”

Shaking his head, his brows furrow.

“You are my mate. That’s the only explanation why my body is reacting like this to everything about you.”

His voice sounds strained, struggling to hold onto his humanity with each passing second. You mercifully let go of his knot, the relief on his face disappearing when you do, and you lean forward, just inches from his lips.

“Then fuck your mate and feel better, baby.”

Sealing your offer by pressing your lips against his, you’re shocked to find that they’re as hot as his hands, his body, his cheeks, but they feel like home to you and the sloppy sound of your tongues running against one another in open mouthed kisses fill your ears. His grip on your hip tightens and he does his best to remain gentle as he slides you off of his lap and places you on your back on the sofa below you. He pauses for a moment to glance over your face, to be absolutely certain that you still want this, and you smile at him.

Reaching for the button of your jeans, he helps you slide them off and tosses them across the room, your panties coming off with them and the rest of your clothes in short order. He wants to shred them, to see the pieces fall and flutter away from your beautiful body, but he holds himself back.

This is just the beginning of his rut, after all, and the two of you are bound to have a very interesting week ahead of you so he savors this moment, the first that he can be who he really is in front of someone he loves.

It’s freeing and terrifying but his cock is throbbing so painfully he can’t focus on anything else.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?”

You nod when he slots himself between your spread legs, his boxers and tank top gone. Your cunt pulses at the sight of him, walls clenching almost painfully around nothing as you look at the size of his knot and wonder how you’re meant to fit it inside of you, but he quiets your wandering mind by leaning down and pressing his chest to yours, kissing you sloppily.

“God I love you,” he mutters and you hum in agreement.

His mouth is wetter than it ever has been, a side effect of his current state, and saliva drips down both of your chins and drips into the valley between your breasts. You moan into his mouth and your hips cant and grind against his erection that slips into the cleft between your pussy lips and he feels himself slipping further and further into the basest of his needs, the warm slick seeping from your cunt a nectar he can no longer resist.

Kakashi’s fingers slide down your body, dragging through the pool of saliva between your breasts, down your torso, across your belly button, and finally down to your aching pussy. He makes himself useful quickly, one of his long digits replacing his cock and running through your soaked folds. You whine, hips bucking, and he increases the pressure of his finger as he slides it over your slippery clit.

“My pretty little mate is so eager for me, huh?”

Nodding dumbly, you spread your legs further hoping he’ll take the hint to get moving to where you need him the most. Your eyes dart from his face to where his finger slowly slides inside of you, warmth accommodating the digit with ease thanks to how soaked you are, and sweet relief washes over you. Tipping your head back, you softly moan beneath him while he works you open for him - he’ll need all the help he can get if you’re going to take his knot, and a second finger joins the first while his thumb massages your clit just the way you like.

“Oh baby, you feel so good.”

You nod and hum, hips grinding into every thrust of his fingers in and out of you, the sound of your own sloppy pussy making your breaths stutter. Who would have guessed you’d be so into finding out your boyfriend’s not so little secret?

His fingers continue to spread you open, shifting and grinding against the spot deep inside he knows drives you wild, and you know you’re about to cum for the first time tonight when his thumb grinds small circles directly into your sensitive clit. Your back arches off of the couch and you clench around his fingers, mumbling his name. His lips find yours, chests still pressed together, and you whimper into his mouth while your legs shake.

Withdrawing his fingers from inside of you, he holds them up and spreads them apart, breaking away from your lips long enough to let you look at the slick that webs between them when he does. You gasp, his fingers glistening with your arousal, and he smirks.

“Think you’re wet enough for me now. Gonna stuff you full of me, is that what you want?”

Nodding, you shiver, catching a glimpse of the hunger in his eyes. He’s the same man you love and have known for all this time but there’s a hunger you can’t wait to sate dancing in his eyes. Your cunt clenches again, finally ready for more after your orgasm, and he reaches between your bodies to position himself at your entrance.

The first inch isn’t anything you aren’t used to but you still gasp as he slides himself inside of you, your nails digging into his shoulder while his blunt head prods at your eager cunt, slipping inside with ease. He sinks deeper and deeper and you gasp breathlessly when he stops just short of the inflamed knot at the base of his cock.

“Can’t go all the way in, not yet,” he explains, grinding his hips and guiding them to make sure the head of his cock brushes against the same spot his fingers were just working. You are breathless, wordless, and completely overwhelmed, deciding to let him have his way with you however he needs. His hands travel the expanse of your waist, settling on either side of it, thumbs brushing the underside of each of your breasts that bounce slightly with each movement he makes.

He isn’t satisfied keeping his hands at your waist, though, and one travels back down your stomach and rests in the hair covering your mound. He loves the feeling of the hair between his fingers and he stretches his hand so that his thumb brushes against your clit, maintaining steady pressure on the bud while he grinds and thrusts in and out of you.

“Baby,” you coo from beneath him and he smirks, leaning forward enough to fold your legs up against your sides. Your thighs are pressed against your torso and your knees rest by your ears, the shift in position making you groan, shocked at how deep he is despite the whole of him not even being inside of you. “Need it all, Kakashi, please.”

How can he deny you when you ask so sweetly and he’s so close to cumming himself?

Shifting his own position so that he is practically mounting you, the front of his thighs pressed to the backs of yours. It feels like you can hardly breathe with how he has you folded but you don’t mind, succumbing to the mind numbing pleasure of the additional inches of him slowly sinking inside of you.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

You nod, licking your lips, and he continues to push what remains of his cock inside of you. His hips grind and shift and you do your best to lift your own to meet him but he stills you with the hand spread over your pelvis, pressing directly on your clit while you stretch to accommodate his knot that slowly slips inside of you.

The stretch is delicious and your lashes flutter against your cheek, eyes rolling back into your skull. He thrusts shallowly, not wanting to release his knot from your warmth, but he gives in quickly and withdraws his knot. You gasp at the loss of the fullness but he’s quick to rectify his wrong, slipping his knot back into you in a quick motion that leaves you breathless.

“Full,” you spit out with a nod and he chuckles, dipping his head to kiss you again.

“Not as full as I’d like you to be but soon.”

You giggle and kiss him back, his grunts and pants against your lips making you whimper. He’s so sexy and you’re so full of him, your head spinning when his grunts increase in a way you know means that he’s close. His cock spasms inside of you and his thumb doubles down on its ceaseless pace on your clit, his knot swelling as he groans and fills you with his release. His knot remains swollen and keeps his cock in place, the warmth of his spend filling your pussy.

Reaching for his face, you grab both of his cheeks and kiss him, his thumb still rubbing idle circles on your clit until your hips jerk and the sensation becomes too much.

“I love you,” you return his earlier sentiment with a smile against his mouth. He smiles and kisses you back, the two of you afraid to part and technically unable with his engorged knot still inside of you.

“We have to stay like this for a little while,” he explains and you nod, eyes glossy and body limp. “Instincts say I have to make it take even if we both know it won’t.”

Smiling, you keep your grip on his face and kiss him again.

“Do you feel better?”

He nods, sighing contentedly.

“For now but we have a long week ahead of us and the full moon is on Friday.”

Dots connect in your head and you giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist while he gradually shifts and rests his head on your chest.

“Good thing we’ll be all alone in the woods then, huh?”

Kakashi chuckles and nods, kissing you between your breasts.

“My thoughts exactly.”

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #thot-o-ween 2023 #monster mash 2023 #kendall writes #cw knotting #cw mating

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tempestuous-lush · 1 year

Text

daddy || f!reader x dark!Bucky

summary: You're a good girl. Dating Steve Rogers. In school pursuing a degree. You're a good girl. With a secret. You're a good girl who runs a cam show and when you meet Steve's friends you realize your best customer is also his best friend.

warnings: masturbation, daddy kink, breeding kink, creampie, bathroom sex, hints of cum play, underwear gagging, public play, demeaning sex, and dark!Bucky.

My first time writing a dark!Bucky.

I hope it lives up to the expectation.

tags: @sweetieswiftie @tarotwitchy-main

word count: 2,946 k

[part one] [part two]

You observed yourself in the full length mirror.

A sigh escaped you.

Why were you so nervous?

No big deal. You were just meeting Steve’s friends. Captain America’s friends. You quickly slipped your dress off in frustration before landing face down in your bed and groaning into the mattress. You pushed yourself up though and flipped onto your back instead, your hair splayed out around you before exhaling again.

“Screw this.”

You were talking to yourself. Very healthy.

What you needed was a dose of confidence. You were trying to dress modestly, to avoid getting unwanted gazes. But you knew exactly what would make you feel bold and ready to take on the world.

You pulled on a garter belt and clipped on your stockings in a delicate polka dot print, the seam running up the back. Next you pulled on a nude bralette that matched your stockings with the same delicate mesh and polka dot pattern. It was one of your favorite things to cam in for a reason.

You looked good, and you knew it.

There were matching panties, but you had sent those to someone only a week or so ago. So, you grabbed your loose fitting dress and slipped it back on your frame. You sat on the bed to slip on your heels, relishing in the way your dress pooled against your bare cunt.

A smirk appeared on your face as you looked over at your streaming corner. The corner of your room had a camera set up, warm fairy lights along the background with a settee. You’d told Stebe this was your reading area when he’d come over, the equipment tucked away beneath the bed.

You glanced at the clock and saw the time. You had forty minutes to spare. Turning on the camera, you looked at the screen with a fanning of eyelashes before backing up to be in full view. A small smile graced your lips as soon as you heard the sounds of notifications letting you know people were joining. You slowly unbuttoned your dress revealing your flesh and lingerie as you more or less purred, “just jumping in real quick to say hello…”

Unbuttoning the last button, you shrugged out of your dress before dragging your fingers along your body. A small moan escaped you as you ghosted along your slit. Part of you used to hate how wet this made you, playing with yourself on camera for money. But now? You didn’t even blink.

You smiled as your favorite customer appeared in chat, knowing it was him by the message and not the handle.

Hello doll.

You had no idea what he looked like, but there had been multiple times he’d paid good money for you to chat with him privately. He’d talked you through more orgasms than you could count while you played his favorite roll: his doll. His bred, cum filled doll.

You smiled at the message, “Hey baby.”

He typed back. Do you have time for me today doll?

“Always. I’ll send you the link as usual baby.”

You saw other comments coming through, begging you to stay for just a few more moments. Instead, you cup your breasts and roll your nipples through the mesh, giving a bit of a needier moan, “Don’t worry boys, this was impromptu. I will be back at my scheduled time.”

You move your camera to point towards your bed, making sure it was close enough for him to see well, before sending him an invite link. Before you came into frame you heard him, “I’ve missed our meetings doll.”

A small smile lingered on your lips as you pulled your favorite toy from the drawer, a guilty pang pulling at you as you thought of Steve.

You shoved it down though as you sat on the bed and slowly spread your legs for him, dragging your toy along your thighs. A breathy sigh escaped you as you asked him, “You’ve missed my wet little pussy, daddy?”

You heard a hiss escape him. Daddy. It’s the one thing he asked you to call him. You were taken aback at first but a part of you realized quickly how much you loved it.

You heard a groan.

“Is that big cock hard for me daddy?”

You heard him as he spit, his breath falling heavy as he began to stroke himself. He breath fell in heavy pants quickly, “Doll, gonna fuck you one day and when I do you’re gonna want my cock buried deep inside you all the time. But for now stuff that wet pussy with your little toy.”

His voice was strained, like he was trying hard to hold back. You teased yourself. You only rocked the head of your toy into your hole, walls clutching at nothing. Part of you enjoyed teasing him, “M’daddy…m’need something bigger. Need your cock. M’so wet.”

“Need my fucking cum deep inside you.”

At his words you sank your toy inside of you, your arousal letting you take it eagerly. Your back arched off the bed as you called out, “Fuck yes.”

“Look so good. Gonna cum. Can I cum on that pretty pussy doll? Gonna fuck me inside of you with your toy?”

“Mmm fuck. Gonna make me all messy with your cum daddy?” God you were so close.

“Yebat!” He let out a heavy grunt before all you could hear was his breathing, heavy, erratic.

You were so close. You flipped to your stomach and thrust your ass in the air, giving him the perfect view of your soaked core before you plunged your toy back inside. You rolled your hips and shuddered at the sensation. Then, you brought your ass down, thrusting up with your toy, and hitting the perfect spot you came hard, crying out incoherently… your cum squirting out of you as you pulled your toy from your spasming pussy.

He followed right behind you.

Bucky’s cum shot out of him as he inhaled the scent of the worn panties you sent him as a thanks for his “support”. It made it even better that the pair you sent him matched the set you currently were wearing.

His cock started getting hard again as he watched you lightly stroking your pussy, body jerking at every touch from over sensitive you were. He had never ached for anyone like this before. Bucky glanced down at his watch. Fuck. He didn’t want to be here but Steve was adamant he would be there.

As you slowly came down from your high and caught your breath, you smiled at the camera shyly.

Bucky’s head fell back in frustration before groaning, “M’sorry doll. Daddy has somewhere to be or else I’d happily pay to see you cumming again and again.”

“S’that so, daddy?”

You weren’t sure why you were doing this. You were about to go to dinner with Steve. Yet, you reached to your nightstand and pulled out a toy that only he would know.

Bucky smirked knowingly as he saw it.

You slipped the wearable vibrator inside of you, the slender arm of it nestled to you until it ended right at your clit. You sent him the link and he immediately cranked it high, causing you to double over at the sensation before he let off, nearly cooing, “Had to make sure it worked my little doll. Gonna tease you all night so you think of me.”

After smiling and saying goodbye, you watched as a notification came through that daddy left you $750. There was also an attachment.

He had never sent one before, and so out of curiosity you opened it.

A gasp left you as you were greeted with a picture of a heavy, thick cock with cum pooled beneath it. A blush erupted on your cheeks as you saw your panties draped over the base. You instinctively licked your lips at the sight of semen beaded at the tip.

And that was when you felt it, the lowest setting. A warmth bloomed inside of you, even as you cleaned your thighs up and pulled a new dress on. It was a powder blue and despite the top of it fitting tightly, the bottom flowed to your knees.

Just as you finished getting yourself together your doorbell rang and you opened it, smiling at Steve just as the setting went up one. A small gasp of surprise escaped you and Steve smiled, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Suddenly feeling needy, you pull him by his shirt collar and give him a long, lingering kiss. Carding his hair with your fingers, you pull at the base of his skull which had him moaning against your lips before he pulled back, “As much as I’d like to explore this, we have to get to the restaurant on time, yeah?”

A small blush crept across the bridge of your nose before you nodded, and his hand enveloped your own and gently pulled you along.

Bucky was already half through with his drink and talking to Natasha when you walked in, Steve’s arm draped across your shoulder. The first thing he spotted were those stockinged legs that he would recognize anywhere. Following the line of sight up, he noticed the dress, and then saw your face. He turned to his phone, nonchalantly saying something to Nat. It couldn’t be you, could it? He turned the setting up to the highest one without any warning and watched you react. Your breath caught and your legs pressed together momentarily before he turned the setting down to the lowest once more. Fuck. He knocked the rest of his whiskey back in one gulp.

What are the fucking chances?

Just as Bucky motioned for another drink, Steve reached him and Nat looking like the proudest man around. He eyed you. Does he know, doll? Does he know you get paid by men to degrade yourself? Does he know you get off on begging your daddy?

You were distracted by the woman first. Beautiful. Curvy. Red hair. Just off that alone, you imagined this must be Natasha. You were about to say hello, the smile on your lips fading as you saw him. You didn’t know who this was. Hard, dark blue eyes staring at you. It almost felt like he could see your soul bared only to him. It was unsettling. As though he were the opposite of everything comforting you found in Steve. He had dark hair, hard lines, was silently judging, and devastatingly handsome. You saw the dim light of the Edison bulbs reflecting from the metal of his arm. Bucky. You held your hand out to Nat and introduced yourself.

Bucky was watching you intently, not interested in the way Steve held his arm around you or laughed as Natasha introduced herself and said some ridiculous quip. No. He heard your name falling from your lips. It was beautiful. Perfect. Like you. Daddy’s little whore, begging to be filled to the brim with his cum.

Bucky snapped out of it when he heard Steve, “And the antisocial lump in the corner here is James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky for short, and my best friend.”

His smile was dazzling and took you off guard.

He held out his hand and you took hold of it without question. Though, your grip faltered as he said his next words, “So nice to finally meet you, doll.”

Doll.

You realized who this was at that word, that voice.

The whole time you were sitting at the table, trying to hold a conversation with Natasha, Steve, and now Sam and Wanda. Bucky was knocking back drinks while absorbed in his phone. To everyone else, he seemed to be rudely absorbed in his phone. But to you? God fucking dammit. You were trying your best not to die, ignoring the ever growing ache growing between your thighs. About half way through the meal though, you threw your napkin down, “Excuse me, m’not feeling well.” You walked swiftly, legs shaking, frantically asking the bartender where the bathroom was. And just as Steve got up to follow you, he got waylaid by a fan asking for a picture.

Steve smiled in thanks as Bucky stood up and simply reassured his friend, “I’ll go check on her.”

You quickly found the bathroom and opened the door, slamming it shut and frantically clicking the lock. You sat on the toilet and spread your legs, resting the heel of your left foot on the sink to hold them open. You quickly removed the toy, throwing it to the side where it landed in the sink, your arousal dripping from your pussy now that the toy wasn’t plugging you up.

You needed friction.

Desperately, you sank your fingers inside of yourself, the noises as you crooked them to hit that sweet spot only driving your frenzied arousal. You mewled, needing more and not having it. Your slippery fingers against your sensitive clit didn’t help either. Then you stilled as you heard a knock, followed by a voice, “Doll, you okay? Steve sent me to check on you?”

His voice hit you just as you started to finger yourself again. The combination made you moan. Another knock as you frantically fucked your hand like a wild animal in heat, “Doll, if you unlock the door…I can help you. You’ll feel so much better.”

You stilled again before struggling to get to your feet, slowly walking to the door. You unlocked it and stepped back. The door slammed open and you were met by the sight of Bucky palming his cock through those tight fitting jeans, looking at you with nothing more than lust. Quickly walking in, he closed the door and locked it before taking something out of his pocket. Your fucking underwear. You weren’t sure what to feel about the fact that he carried them on him to dinner.

But he roughly grabbed your cheeks and pressed so your mouth opened and he shoved them inside of your mouth. A muffled moan escaped you as he spun you around and pinned your hips against the sink. As you began to salivate over the delicate fabric, you realized…it tasted of his cum. Fresh. Salty. Musk. It was all him.

You were reignited at the realization he must have cleaned up with them earlier. This was the fucking counter in the background of the picture he sent. And then you heard the zipper of his jeans and he lined up the head of his cock before snapping his hips up and you clamped his hand over your mouth as you cried out, muffled already by the fabric.

Bucky groaned in your ear, “Fucking hell doll, so wet for daddy. So needy. Nod yes for me doll if this is all from me playing with you.”

You nod into his hand, tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him fucking you.

“Too much of a fucking whore for Steve to handle properly.”

Fuck me, fuck me.

“Gonna make you cream daddy’s fat cock inside you, doll, and then gonna fill you with my cum. And we’re gonna do it fast, doll. Lest you want Steve to know how fucking filthy you are.”

Bucky watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You felt more amazing than he even thought possible. He pulled his phone out again and turned the toy all the way up before grabbing hold of it and pulling your head back with the hand covering your mouth, his other held the toy firmly against your clit. It was your undoing.

You came so fast, Bucky still driving deep inside of you even as you did.

Suddenly, he grunted, “Ready for me doll? Pussy so greedy you’re gonna milk me dry. Smooth as silk with how wet you are for me.”

Then, with one final thrust deep inside of you, he came. His cum painted your walls and he turned off the toy, pulling out of you and taking his hand away with your underwear in his fingers. Reduced to panting, you pressed your legs together, inexplicably wanting his warm seed to stay inside of you. He handed you your panties, knowing, and you slipped them on.

Tucking his cock back inside his jeans, he zipped them up before looking you over, “Funny that you think you’re worthy of Steve when you eagerly spread that pretty pussy for daddy, doll. The only thing that you’re worthy of is being daddy’s bred little bitch. Isn’t that right?” His words stung as you thought of Steve, who was so good to you. Tears threatened once more to spill.

“See you back at dinner, though you might want to clean up. It might be difficult to explain another man’s cum inside of you when you get back home, doll.”

That was all he said, and he left.

Suddenly ashamed, you looked at the toy in the bathroom sink covered in your arousal. A sob escaped you before you began to clean up. Meanwhile, Steve ran into Bucky on his way back to the table. Bucky stopped him, “Hey man, I’d give her a little bit. The food didn’t agree with her very well. She’s a bit of a mess.” Torn, Steve slowly nodded and walked back to the table with his friend. He knew you’d want privacy if you were sick.

By the time you got back to the table you immediately ordered a drink and downed it.

Fuck.

Steve rubbed your back affectionately before asking, “You okay?”

“Mhm, feel much better now, thank you for asking.”

Steve gave you a kiss on the cheek, leaving his hand on your back to trace the same path.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #steve rogers x you #dark!bucky x you #no y/n #winter soldier x you #bucky x reader

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xjustakay · 1 month

Text

✺ (3/27) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: birthday — 1,009 words (jegulus dads ft. harry; sugary waffles and a very happy birthday for the world’s greatest dad —love, harry and regulus)

“Shhh, we have to keep quiet, darling,” Regulus whispers, shooting Harry an amused look.

Harry cups both hands around his mouth, whispers between them, “Sorry, papa.”

With a quiet snort, Regulus ruffles the mess of his dark hair —made even worse by the fact that they’ve only been awake and out of bed for all of thirty minutes. Getting ready for the day had been put on hold in favor of tiptoeing around the kitchen, being as quiet as humanly possible for a five year old who’s over-excited to make his dad waffles for his birthday. Regulus is under no illusion that James is actually still sleeping in their bed, but they’ll both pretend for the sake of their son.

“Should we put whipped cream on top?” Regulus suggests as he drops the fresh waffle onto a plate.

Harry nods hurriedly. “And rainbow sprinkles, and a cherry! Like a sundae!”

“Of course,” Regulus chuckles.

He follows the little boy’s giggled instruction, allowing Harry to be the one that tells him when to finally stop piling the whipped cream on (there’s more whipped cream than there is waffle, by that point). Regulus hands off the shaker of sprinkles, lets Harry take that over as well. In the middle of watching him, he notices his phone light up on the counter. Reaching for it and finding a message notification on the screen, his lips curl upward.

How bad is it?

Regulus eyes the mountain of whipped cream on top of the thick waffle on the plate. Harry has taken it upon himself to try to cover every inch of the sugar pile with rainbow sprinkles, tongue poked out between his teeth in concentration. It’s the same thing James unconsciously does while deeply focused and it warms something in Regulus’ chest to see it.

He snaps a quick, secret photo, unnoticed by the boy, and sends it off with no comment. The moving dots of a reply show up near-immediately.

Say goodbye to my abs, I guess

Regulus laughs a touch too loudly at the message, startling Harry out of his focus. With a furrowed brow, Harry lifts a hand, holding a finger to his mouth and shushing him.

“Too loud, papa,” He admonishes.

“Sorry, darling,” Regulus mutters, a grin unchanging from his face. “Maybe we’re finished with the sprinkles, yeah?”

Harry nods his head but continues shaking the container over one last section of the plate until he’s satisfied. He plops a bright red cherry on top of the colorful, sugary mess, then wide green eyes are looking up at Regulus.

“Do we have birthday candles?”

Regulus nods. “In the drawer by the sink.”

Before he can move to retrieve them, Harry scrambles off his stool and goes to do it for him. He comes scurrying back over, holding up the package for Regulus to take.

“How old is daddy now, papa?”

“He’s just turned thirty today,” Regulus answers, voice purposefully louder than moments before.

Exactly as expected, his phone buzzes with another message shortly after his voice carries from the kitchen.

Quit smiling about it

Regulus laughs quietly to himself, sends back a quick ‘never’ and tucks his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants. Despite Harry’s suggestion to try to fit all thirty candles on the melting pile of whipped cream, Regulus talks him down to just three. They’re very carefully situated and lit, Regulus balancing the plate on his palm to carry it down to the bedroom. Harry rushes ahead, feet thumping hurriedly on the hardwood before he pushes the door open.

James, bless him, is in fact pretending to be asleep still. His phone sits set aside on the nightstand, his arm tossed over his face where he’s sprawled dramatically in the center of the bed. Harry creeps around the side, tiptoeing once again and glancing back at Regulus behind him.

“Should we wake him?” Harry whispers.

James chooses that precise moment to make a loud snoring sound that send Harry clapping both little hands over his mouth to stifle his laugh. Regulus smiles widely, fond gaze flickering back and forth between his husband and his son. Harry looks at him expectantly once again and waits for a nod of approval before clambering up onto the bed.

He’s poised to pounce right on his father, wake him up enthusiastically, but before he’s given the chance, James jolts upright toward him with a playful roar. Harry squeals loudly, losing himself in a fit of giggles when he’s scooped into James’ arms, relentless fingers tickling at his sides.

“Papa, help!” Harry shrieks between peals of laughter.

“Papa can’t help you now,” James threatens jokingly.

Regulus snorts, shaking his head. “Okay, lit candles here, let’s settle for a minute, yeah?”

James finally gives Harry a reprieve, both of them breathless and pink in the face. Harry flops onto his back between James’ outstretched legs, the bedsheet tangled around one thick thigh and the opposite calf. James makes a ‘bring it here’ motion with his hand and Regulus steps forward, carefully perching on the side of the bed nearest to the two of them. Harry hauls himself into a sitting position, watching eagerly as Regulus holds the plate out in front of where James sits.

“You have to make a birthday wish, daddy!” Harry tells him.

“What, you’re not going to sing to me?” James replies.

“No,” Regulus says immediately, earning a loud laugh from his husband. “Blow out your candles, the whipped cream is melting.”

James sneers at him but adjusts his lopsided glasses to stare at the flickering candle flames. His hazel eyes dart to Harry in front of him, then to Regulus at his left. A wide smile stretches across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes, helpless adoration bright in his gaze.

He locks eyes with Regulus for a long moment, the two sharing a fond, knowing look. James doesn’t have to say a thing for Regulus to know what he’s thinking; what else is there to wish for, when this is what life looks like?

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #happy birthday to our favorite aries<3 #this sweet little family is all i got for today but #i love them a stupid amount :(#also i didn’t edit this even a little so if it’s a mess no it’s not ty #jeggy dads series #kay’s microfics #kay’s writing

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klausysworld · 10 months

Note

you can write a raunchy one-shot for yandere klaus, where he was quiet at home thinking about his love, and out of nowhere he got a text from her telling him she knows about his obsession with her and asking him to come to her house to talk, and Klaus runs over to y/n's, only to find her on his bed in her lingerie and asking him to fuck her like a wild animal.

Not so secret obsession

Klaus was sat in his art room, looking over his paintings and pencil studies of his muse.

She truly was sculpted by goddesses. He imagined her to be one of Aphrodite’s descendents.

He took a sip of his bourbon as he leant back in his chair, he craved her attention so unbelievably much. He would do absolutely anything for this girl, whether it were mass murder or suicide, if she asked it of him then how could he deny her?

His fingertips fiddled with the lace material of her panties, they were plum purple in colour and soft to touch. They one of his favourites of her things. He can still remember when he saw her buy them, when she went into the dressing room to try them on. He was nearly caught that day but it was worth his rime and near exposure when he was able to obtain said panties mere seconds after she had worn them.

Just as he went to unzip his trousers, his phone pinged from a very familiar number.

One he had memorised in the first 5 seconds of seeing.

Y/n.

He opening it immediately, putting his drink and the underwear aside and sitting up straighter in his seat.

I know your little secret

He read. His eyes narrowed at the screen and waited for the three dots at the bottom to form a message

How you watch me when you think I don’t know.

He swallowed thickly but didn’t reply, he took a nervous gulp of his drink and watched his phone intently

I’m not upset about it, maybe you could come over and we can talk about everything?

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t suspicious of her words. Perhaps this was another plot to try and fail to kill him.

But at the same time, she was inviting him over to her house, it would be incredibly stupid on his behalf if he passed up such an opportunity.

I’ll be there in 5.

He sent before flashing to his room.

He fixed his hair and made sure he smelt strongly of his cologne, his shirt was a tad too tight but he wanted it that way. In under 30 seconds he had sorted himself out and gotten into his car where he practically inhaled a dozen mints in the fear she would be able to taste the blood on his tongue from earlier that day.

Just as he pulled up, he received another message

Just come straight in

And he didn’t hesitate.

He sped straight up the stairs to where he could hear her heartbeat, her bedroom.

A wetted his lips as he turned the handle and opened the only thing now between them.

The open door revealed a sight that would surely never leave his mind.

Seeing her in only a black lingerie set with stockings pulled right the way up her thighs. Her legs spread, one hand on cupping her breast through the lace while the other had dipped just below the panties.

He slowly, cautiously made his way over to her. His eyes locked on hers as she moaned softly, her hips thrusting upward with her hand as she pulled her fingers away from her slippery cunt and to her mouth, sucking them clean.

“My love…” he breathed, his hand slowly moving to squeeze one of her breasts when he realised she wouldn’t push him away.

“I want you Klaus” she whispered “I want you to show what an all powerful hybrid can do” she purred, her hand lifting his shirt to trail across his abs.

“That’s a dangerous thing to ask for” he uttered, there was no fucking way this was actually happening. Klaus was 90% sure he was in his own head.

But when her mouth wrapped around his fingers and she brought them to her bare pussy, it had never felt more real.

His throat felt dry as he rubbed her precious little clit. He tore the scrap of fabric from her quickly to give him a better view while his other hand kneaded at her breast.

Her loud moan had his head turning to her, her teeth were biting at her bottom lip as she watched his hand between her legs. He moved his finger faster circular motions, she let out a hot breath and leant further forward on her elbows.

He brought his fingers away from her, his pride growing when she whined and reached for his hand

“Don’t stop” she whispered but he ignored her and licked his fingers hungrily.

The hand from her breasts moved to her neck, pulling her up onto her knees so her face was right in his chest before he forced her head back and pushed his lips to hers with need. Her little gasp into his mouth was enough for his tongue to get inside hers. His arm circled her and pushed her straight against him. His hand grabbed at her ass harshly, her tongue fought against his, her lack of submission was an issue for him. So his hand pulled at her hair hard, he relished in her pain filled whimper and took the opportunity to claim his dominance over her mouth.

Her hands pushed at his chest making the kiss break much to his dismay. Her eyes looked up to his as his hand trailed up and down her stocking clad legs.

“Do you like them?” She asked, a teasing edge to her tone. “You add them to your collection” she whispered lowly making his eyes darken.

“How long have you known?” His voice was gravelly, and it made her walls flutter.

“Just a couple weeks…you really do love me” she murmured, her hand on his bare chest after she managed to get his shirt over his head. “I saw you…when I was touching myself, you really do enjoy it don’t you?” She whispered, his breathing grew heavier as her hand rubbed him through his trousers. “I got to see this once” she told him, her fingers unzipping his pants and popping the button “Just couldn’t help yourself could you?” She whispered, she palmed him through his boxers with doe eyes staring up at him. “Normally you don’t wear these…or is that just for when you come to see me? Want to be ready to feel yourself up while you watch my fingers touch myself”

He hissed as the cool air surrounded his hardened dick as she peeled his boxers down his legs.

“You are something else” he muttered down at her, his eyes eagerly watching as she lusted over his size. His hand got ahold of her jaw firmly and pulled her further down so her lips ghosted his tip. “Don’t be a tease” he warned, his hand tightening around her face, his fingers squeezing her cheeks.

“Is this one your fantasies?” she whispers, her eyes dark as she gazed up at him. The low rumble he emitted only turned her on more. “Do you think about this before you go to sleep? Do you dream about my lips on your cock” she purred

“In my dreams yours much more compliant, docile.” he growls before grabbing his dick and pushing it into her mouth, a sigh leaving his lips when she immediately began to suck. His hand moved round to the back of her head, bunching up her hair in his grip and pushing her head back and forth at a slow rhythm. “That’s a good girl” he breathed, his other hand stroked the base of his cock tenderly. “Something tells be you’ll be in this position much more than I originally thought hm?” She hummed in response making his hips jerk and her to choke on his head

“Look at you,” he whispered “drooling all over me” he chuckled quietly, the hand on his dick moved to grab hers and brought it to his balls where her salvia had dripped to, making her fondle them in her hand. She moaned around him and bobbed her head a little faster. He pulled her head back for her mouth to concentrate on his tip, her tongue swirling round it as she whimpered, her eyes on his making him groan.

He pulled her by her hair and off of his cock, he stroked himself a few more times to even out his breathing. He could feel her head tugging against his hand to have him back in her mouth but he kept her still in both interest and amusement. He wanted her to submit to him.

“Don’t you want to cum in my mouth” she teased but the underlying need was there in her tone. He tilted his head and smirked at her

“Why would I do that when I have your whole body to fill up” he hummed and her face flushed red. His eyes earned a certain twinkle to them as he stroked her chin, seeing her mouth open and close trying to find words to respond but he shushed her before she could.

He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, softer this time to begin with but he couldn’t control himself long enough for the kiss to be sweet, instead he only became hungrier especially now his dick was throbbing now he had felt her pretty lips around it.

His hands pushed her down onto the mattress and his body crawled on top of hers but before he could get his hand to her leg, she had rolled them over so she was above him. Her hands pinning his above his head and her mouth moving to his neck forcing an involuntary moan from him as her bare pussy rubbed against his cock.

His hips bucked up, his tip hitting against her clit making her moan out and pull away from the kiss. Which gave him the opportunity to push her back under him. He held her, face down on her stomach, her hands trying to push herself up but the pressure on her back was too much

“For someone who wanted me to show you the hybrid…to be animalistic…you sure are disobedient” he muttered while his fingers unclipped her bra and pulled her arms out of the straps so he could toss it away.

He moved to sit at the backs of her thighs, his hand still pushing her down as he stroked his dick to the sight of her bare ass. She could hear his heavy breaths as he rubbed himself, it took everything she had to lift her hips against his hold, pressing her behind to his front. His hand met here arse in a harsh slap before her legs were pushed apart, she let out a squeak as his cock slipped through her folds to her entrance.

“Raise your ass again and I’ll bury myself inside it” he whispered lowly and she moaned loudly in response

“I assure you, I would have no complaints” she practically purred, his pupils dilated further as the image of her stuffed with his cock in her ass and fingers in her cunt.

His hand pressed down on the back of her neck as his other continued to rub himself slowly as he directed her tip toward the source of her wetness. His hips rocked allowing her lips to soak him before pushing inside her with a groan. So many restless nights spent contemplating this moment, he expected to be waiting months if not over a year and now here hear was with her begging to be fucked.

His grip on her neck got firmer as his eyes struggled to remain open and her needy little cunt swallowed him in. He could hear her whore like moans clearly despite her face smushed against her bed.

His other veined hand squeezed her plump ass tenderly as his hips rolled beautifully. Her teeth cling to her bottom lip as she felt him slowly slide in and out of her, her soft walls so tight around him that she could feel every pulsing vein on his dick. Her mind felt hazy, her hands holding onto her sheets as though it were impossible to let go as he stretched her to her capacity.

Both hands moved in opposite directions to slip along her back, he got ahold of the areas between her neck and shoulders and squeeze lightly. Once happy with his grip, he smirked to himself and brought his hips back far so that only his tip wait at her entrance before shoving himself right inside. He relished in the loud gasp followed by a mix of pain and pleasure filled moan she released, her body tensing and relaxing around him.

Her eyes grew wider as he continued with the same technique, sheaving himself back in her each time and leaving her breathless. “Much better sweetheart” he murmured as she lay completely at his mercy. She whimpered beneath him as his pace grew faster and he rubbed the side of her neck with his thumb “good girl” he whispered to her and grunting when she tightened around him in response.

His thrusts quickened and he groaned loudly, his head fell forward and his lips remained parted as his body mindlessly fucked into her roughly. His eyes shone a rich gold as his lids opened lazily. He could feel her skin bruising underneath his hands from how hard he was gripping her, he could hear the bed creaking and the harsh slap of his balls against her sopping cunt.

Her cries were one of the most pleasant sounds he had ever heard as they rang throughout the room without a pause in breath. Her little pussy squeezed him deliciously, her grip on him so tight that her hips moved back and forth with his. He chuckled to himself before holding her still, smacking her arse harshly earning a exasperated whine from her swollen lips as he carried on roughly pounding into her.

His hand slipped down her thigh, pulling her lace stocking higher up and groaning as her hips lifted and she pushed herself up onto her knees though her face was still helplessly panting against the sheets. Her back arched perfectly to have his cock ram right into her cervix. Her mouth fell open at the sensation that covered his sensitive tip and his hips began to snap to hers supernaturally fast.

He could so clearly hear how soaked she was as he slid back and forth, could hear her clit pulse and the desire to choke her so hard she couldn’t stop herself from letting go around him was too high not to.

His large veined hand slid up to the back of her neck, smoothing round the skin to get a grip around her throat so that a silent scream scratched at her vocal cords. He pulled her back to her chest, her ear just above his lips as he breathed hot and heavy breaths against her skin.

No noise was able to leave her as she closed around his dick, a flow of her pleasure gushing down him as her eyes rolled back and he entirely cut of her air flow.

“Oh you liked that didn’t you sweetheart?” He laughed through breaths as he continued to harshly fuck into her. And when his hand dropped down between her legs to toy with her red puffy clit, she could’ve cum right away. He let go of her neck, allowing a shouted version of “oh my fucking god” to fill the room as her head threw back against his shoulder.

He turned his head to see her mouth hung open and panting ragged breaths. It felt as though his cock were swelling all that much more when he shoved his mouth onto hers, both moaning into each other as he licked the inside of her cheek. He just knew if he spat in her mouth she would whimper like a good slut and swallow.

She struggled to comprehend the intensity of the pleasure that coursed through her every atom. Her mouth was barely able to move against his eager lips as her moans and whines were muffled and absorbed.

He pulled away to look down, his eyes soaking up the sight of her bounding tits and his hips rutting somehow faster. Both hands moved to lift her legs from the backs of her knees, holding them up against her sides as she screamed out as she pressed a hand to her abdomen where the outline of his cock rammed in and out of.

“I’m gonna fuck you so many ways” he drawled as he felt her squeeze him impossibly tight “bend you over every possible surface and when we run out I’ll just fuck you in the air” he whispered into her ear, feeling her tremble and shake in his hands.

She choked on her own breathing as his fingertips dig into her thighs as he stuttered in his brutal pace. He let out a long groan as his hips froze in place and thick ropes of cum flooded her. He held her in place as she let out a series of cries and her hands grabbed ahold of his wrists for support as she felt herself fill beyond capacity.

Her lips parted and her eyes widened as his hand dropped one of her legs and rubbed her belly as he pumped her so full of his cum that she had swelled with it. He mumbled incoherently as he kissed the base of her neck and pulled himself out of her. He helped lay her down, his hand moving to cup her cunt in an attempt to keep his load inside her.

Her head hit the pillow behind her with a soft moan as her hand moved to her stomach “gonna have my babies” he murmured while kissing her shoulder and then along her arm. “so many babies” he repeated as he moved back to her neck and nipped along the skin.

“Oh god” she whispered and he hummed

“Never ever letting you go now sweetheart. You’re all mine” he purred before burying his teeth into her neck, imprinting his mark on her forever.

(I quite like this one im ngl)

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devilevlls · 9 days

Note

I feel like 23 was made for Satan. :') I don't mind whether it's SFW or NSFW! Surprise me! (if that's okay) ♥

Thank you for the request, sorry it took me longer than expected T-T I hope you enjoy it! 💚

Don't touch that, it's supposed to be cursedˎˊ˗

Gender-Neutral MC༘ ⋆｡˚

Satan, the so threatening avatar of Wrath, exuded his unexpected aura of tranquility as he sat amidst the towering stacks of books in his bedroom. Beside him sat MC, their curiosity unabated as they flitted from one tome to the next, their eyes alight with fascination. “Wow, there are a lot of things, Satan. You are incredible!” They say happily while picking another book to check.

Despite the chaos of books spread around the room, Satan remained unfazed, his attention captured by the pages of his current read. His gentle demeanor belied his fearsome reputation, and he regarded MC with a warmth that was both unexpected and endearing.

“You certainly are a curious type of human, aren’t you, little one?” He smiles softly.

As MC's restless fingers danced over the spines of the books, a mischievous gleam in their eye, Satan's smile widened, finding amusement in their boundless curiosity. But his amusement turned to concern as MC's hand hovered over a particularly ominous-looking volume, a foreboding aura emanating from its weathered cover.

"Don't touch that, it's supposed to be cursed!" Satan cautioned, his voice a stern reminder of the dangers lurking within the pages of forbidden knowledge. Despite his typically cool-headed demeanor, there was an edge of urgency in his tone, a warning that brooked no argument.

But it was too late. Before Satan could intervene, MC's hand had already made contact with the forbidden object. With a sinking feeling, Satan moved swiftly to shield them, bracing himself for the inevitable consequences.

Poof…

In the blink of an eye, Satan vanished, leaving behind a bewildered MC to search for any sign of him. Panic gripped them as they scanned the room, their heart racing with worry.

Wait, where is he? Then, a movement caught their eye. A cute cat sat before them, its gaze piercing and familiar. In a moment of realization, MC connected the dots—Satan had transformed into the feline before them.

Stunned by the unexpected turn of events, MC sighed in resignation, gently scooping up the cat and putting him on their lap. With a mixture of concern and determination, they turned their attention to the fallen tome, its pages fluttering open to reveal the secrets within.

"Oh no... Satan, that's so bad," MC murmured, their voice filled with concern as they gazed down at the transformed cat in their lap. Despite the gravity of the situation, the feline appeared surprisingly content, purring softly as it rubbed its head against their thighs.

MC blushes, their mind focused on the fact that it was actually Satan taking advantage of his cute form to be bold. They stroked his fur gently, a sense of reassurance washed over them. "Here says you only need to hear a secret and the spell is undone," MC murmured, their voice tinged with uncertainty as they studied the cryptic message within the tome.

They paused for a moment.

After a few minutes of gathering their courage, MC finally spoke, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Alright... I'm actually in love with you. Even if we are so different from each other... I... Can't deny it."

As the words hung in the air, tension thickening between them, Satan's form shimmered before returning to its usual state. Still seated in MC's lap, he wrapped an arm around their neck, a smirk playing on his lips as he teased, "Oh, is that so...? You will need to elaborate now, kitten."

Despite the playful tone, there was a warmth in Satan's gaze that spoke volumes—Deep down he felt the same. And as they sat together, wrapped in the quiet intimate moment, MC realized that perhaps their secret had been the key to breaking not only the curse all along—but their relationship into a deeper one, stronger than any magic or curse could ever hope to be.

Drabble prompts you can use in your requests!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me one master to rule them all #evllsposts #obey me drabble #obey me satan #satan obey me #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x mc #obey me fluff #obey me writings #obey me writing #evllsasks #Satan is such a gentleman ~ I love him so much

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bridgetotheskyyy · 1 year

Text

in your dreams.

series masterlist

chapter summary: Sukuna's sick of you pretending to be something you're not.

chapter warnings: nsfw, 18+ content, aged up characters, dubcon, oral, praise kink, degradation, spanking, ass fingering, unsolicited photo

word count: 3.8k

a/n: This one's a hefty one, worthy of the King of Curses! Whew. Please tell me if there's a tag you'd like me to add!

read on ao3 here.

“Bye, Itadori …��

From within, Sukuna’s hand clutched around his throne arm.

You were just so …

You smiled.

His tongue dragged across his lip, desperate to taste something.

So …

“Yeah,” Yuji said, waving, an unmistakable blush on his face as you left for the train.

Your skirt swished, exposing a dangerous amount of thigh.

The throne’s arm gave under Sukuna’s grasp, crumbling to his feet.

He would have you.

---------------

The King of Curses couldn’t be fooled, wouldn’t be. Beneath your shy veneer was a vivacious slut, he knew it. You were desperate to spread your legs for Yuji, desperate for the brat’s cock.

For him.

He wasn’t imagining it; your sweet little voice would turn coquettish when Yuji was none the wiser — alluring — at the turn of a dime. Your body would brush against his vessel when you were sure he wouldn’t notice. Your hands would graze against the nape of his neck. Timid eyes turned hungry at the sight of his shirtless form.

Perhaps Yuji could be fooled, but he couldn’t be.

He’d prove it.

It was the brat’s fault, anyway; his fault for falling for a girl who knew nothing of their world, of curses, of him.

Oh, but he’d love to introduce you.

Sukuna waited until the brat drifted off to sleep, exhausted by the inexhaustive pile of college homework (he huffed at the boy’s attempts at being normal, as if) before stepping into his consciousness.

“O — Oi! —“ Yuji jerked, feeling the disturbance shrouding his mind.

“Go back to sleep,” Sukuna demanded.

“I —“

“Sleep.”

Sukuna waited until he could take over before he grabbed the brat’s phone and found your name in his messaging app.

(Y/n)? Come now.

Sukuna smirked at the message bubble appearing on the screen, could feel his mouth water as the three dots appeared signifying your approaching reply.

Yuji? What’s wrong?

I can only tell you when you get here. It’s a secret just between us!

Oh … all right. I’m coming!

You would be. Sukuna snickered to himself, the phone’s blue light absorbing into the black of his tattoos.

The plan was set in motion, all he had to do now was wait.

----------------------

Your heart rammed in your chest.

It wasn’t like many — many — of your fantasies about Yuji Itadori began just like this. You, walking up to his door in the dead of night only for him to swing it open to pull you into his apartment and a breath-stealing kiss.

Pinning you to the bed … shredding your clothes … ramming into you with those strong hips, big hands latched to your hips, praising you —

Good girl, (Y/n), oh my god, so good —

“Na—ahhah!” You shook your head like doing so would loosen the thoughts hold on you.

You’d been a mess ever since you’d caught him shirtless, playing basketball with a gaggle of other college students. Yuji was, it turned out, adorned with scars and mysterious marks marring his skin. That worried you, in a different world you’d be brave enough to ask him about it, but in this one, you’d kept quiet.

And you were frustrated with yourself because … you said adorned for a reason; they only made him hotter to you.

You wrung your hands around your jacket sleeve as you approached the door you’d seen so many times in your mind’s filthy eye. Knocked three times, hid your hand like it’d been caught stealing.

The door’s locks jingled from the other side — lightning zigzagged throughout your system, somersaulting your heart.

It opened and Yuji appeared — but he was different … Tattooes? How’d he get those so fast? And his stare …

“Yu — Yuji?”

Yuji stepped to the side and held the door open shut with his back to admit you. The side of his mouth ticked up in a smirk.

“Come in.”

“What’s — what’s wrong?” You said, moving slowly past the threshold.

And he chuckled — deep, resonating through his bones. His voice was different.

“Nothing,” Yuji said, “now you’re here.”

You blushed. What did he mean? You’d never heard him sound like this …

… you liked it. A little.

“Um …” You fiddled with the buttons of your jacket like an old habit. “Uh … I — I …”

Yuji snapped his fingers. “Oh, that’s right; you’ve never been here before, have you?”

Yuji walked toward you — prowled, more like. You stepped back.

Has … has he always been this big? Bigger than you?

“Uhm … no — no?” Only in my dreams. You bit your lip.

That smirk again. Halfhearted. Mocking. Yuji’s eyes — darker now — scanned you, their attention delving lower and lower …

“(Y/n).”

You swallowed nothing. “Ye— yes?”

He came close. Your heart leaped as he stopped in front of you —

“Come to the bedroom —“

He brushed passed you.

Red further stained your cheeks. You turned to watch him, hand in his pocket, head down the hallway. “Wha — what?”

“You heard me,” he teased.

“I — I can’t! I —!”

“Please?” his voice was softer now, more palatable as he puppy-eyed you from over his shoulder. “There’s something I gotta show you.”

You follow him and watch as Yuji shut the door, your heart rammed in your ears.

Silence. You followed Yuji with your eyes, waiting.

“(Y/n),” he turned to you, “do you think I’m stupid?”

You blinked furiously. “Wha — what?”

He turned his office chair and sunk into it, hands still in his pockets. “I don’t like you belittling my intelligence like this. You think I don’t know?”

You’ve offended him. You mentally kicked yourself several different ways. How? When? You pinched the sleeve of your jacket hard, your fingerpads whitening.

“Know — no — I mean — I don’t under — know what, Yuji?”

God, your voice sounded weak even to you.

He met your eye. “You said you’ve never been here before … but how many times have I fucked you in that bed, right there, beside you?”

You froze. The surreality of the moment delayed your understanding of the words leaving his mouth. Like an idiot, you turned to face the bed, undisturbed and unslept in, as though it’d provide answers.

You turned back to him, gaping your mouth like a beached fish.

“How do I fuck you?” Yuji said. “In your dreams, I mean. Hm? Missionary? Do I throw your pretty little legs over my shoulders? Or, perhaps …”

He paused, profane eyes oogling your form.

“Yuji …” Your voice was barely audible.

Yuji sighed. He stood from the chair to stalk toward you. “You shy ones are always so easy to read.”

He leaned forward and in your ear:

“You’re not fooling anybody.”

You gasped, still unable to move as he leaned backward to meet your eye again.

There was that chuckle again, chocolate dark.

“Well then, if you insist on your innocence … let me introduce you to the bed.”

The world tipped and spun as Yuji turned you around and shoved you onto the bed. You fell gracelessly, thumping your head inches from the pillows with a yelp.

Pressure on your back and you knew Yuji was there. You raised but sucked air between your teeth when your ass brushed into Yuji’s crotch.

“Yuji …!”

“Perhaps you’d like it ass up?” Yuji continued.

You balled fists into the sheets, stunned into paralysis as Yuji chuckled above you. Visions of your fantasies flooded your mind; Yuji, ramming into you, the headboard of your bed bobbing from the power of his thrusts. In your lust-frenzied mind, it was his preferred way of fucking you.

You gasped as he swiped your skirt over your ass and knead the fat of it with his palm.

“Hmm?”

You whimpered as Yuji suppressed you to the mattress with his weight.

“Yu —“

A sharp smack to your ass sent you screaming, the sting running through your nerves.

“Answer me.”

Yuji buried his face in your hair, burying his sick laughs at the back of your neck. Another slap reinforced the pain of the last, rolling into one another.

“Y — Yes! Doggystyle!” You relented. “Always doggystyle!”

He laughed out loud this time but your reply didn’t deter him as a third slap came down on your ass — again and again, alternating between cheeks each time. Your skin screamed from the swift punishments of his hand.

“On your hands and knees … ” Smack. “You should be ashamed.”

Smack.

“Filthy slut.”

Smack.

You felt another shout crawl up your throat when the assaults ceased. You breathed a sigh of relief as Yuji’s weight lessened.

A new sound; the metallic clink of Yuji unbuckling his pants.

Your eyes widened.

“Doggy, you said?” Yuji said. “Hm. If you insist.”

You felt him yank your panties down to ride around the fat of your thighs. You felt him press into you again —

“Yuji —!” You panicked. “Wait —!”

Yuji’s answer was his cock slamming into you from behind.

Your voice died, the wind knocked out of you as he forced his way into your wet cunt.

“So wet,” Yuji remarked as you mewled. “To be expected —“

He pushed your head into the mattress, forcing you to bite into your lip before resting his hand at the small of your back. He rocked his hips hard and fast into you. Hard slapping sounded throughout the room as he took you. It was your first time but it wouldn’t matter if it hadn’t been, not with the way Yuji’s huge cock split you open, your clenched walls expanding with pain to admit him.

Your legs trembled. Yuji roared from behind you as his cock forced itself inside of you time and time again. Your mouth hung agape against the sheets. Yuji’s thrusts kept coming, swift, his angle providing you with equal times pain and pleasure, robbing you of any bearings.

“Fuck,” he hissed, hands forcing your hips back to meet his thrusts. “I bet you’ve envisioned this a few times today. Go on,” he growled. “Tell me I’m wrong — lie.”

One hand abandoned your hip to slap the sore skin of your ass and you yelped.

You couldn’t deny it. Things were happening so fast — Yuji reached forward to pin your hands behind your back with only one of his. You were so full, full with him — and he hadn’t — hadn’t even —

You couldn’t help it; your pussy throbbed, tightening around Yuji’s cock in response

Yuji rewarded you with a particularly hard thrust. “Just like this,” Yuji taunted. “Hard and rough, isn’t that right, (Y/n)! What a good little bitch you are.”

No answer came; you were overwhelmed with him and his cock making a meal of your cunt. Yes! Your brain screamed. Yes! Just like this! You convulsed around him and heard him groan in response.

His strength — it wasn’t human. He dragged your ass on him and each time you collided with him with a pronounced slap, slap, slap, the hardboard of his abdomen stabbing at your backside.

One of his hands reached forward and you felt the flaring pain as his thumb stabbed into your asshole.

“Ngh!” You bounced against him, powerless in the onslaught. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, feeling it punch your cervix with each swift thrust.

You might as well be part of the mattress with the way your face was planted against the sheets. Drool escaped your mouth to wet them as your eyes rolled back, mind overwhelmed with the assault your cunt is taking.

His weight fell over your back but his thrusts remained undisturbed, he merely thrashed into you at a new angle while his strong body fused with yours.

“Do I cum inside you, (Y/n)?” he taunted, the heat of his breath puffing into the shell of your ear. “Do I leave you a slobbering — fucking — mess —?”

“Ye — yes!” You choked out, feeling the tight of your orgasm. “Yes, Yuji, ple —ease!”

“So predictable,” Yuji landed a smack to one of your abused cheeks. “Human women, you’re all the same —“

He pounded into you, his thumb fingering the pucker of your ass as your orgasm came over you. You bite your lip as he crushed you to the mattress, the tight muscles of his fine chest pressing onto your clothed back. You convulsed around him for a second time and heard him roar —

You heard your scream in your ears but didn’t recognize it as yours; the world melted around you. You trembled as your climax sent you clutching around him again and again. Blackened dots flared in your vision when your eyes squeezed shut. Your cunt milked him, desperate to keep him sheathed inside you as each thrust sent another wave of pleasure through you. Your chest wracked with sobs. Yuji’s hold on your wrists pained as he spilled inside of you.

You don’t feel him pull out nor do you feel yourself being tussled around so your back hit the mattress. Your eyes opened —

Yuji’s pressed down and around you. You looked up at his wicked smile.

“Yu —!“

He covered your lips with his.

You yelped as he nibbled the plush of your earlobe.

“Yuji …!” You exclaimed, out of breath, legs squeezing to him. “What’s happening you you? I —“

His lips land on you again, rough and demanding your mouth. His hand flew to your neck, choking you hard. Yuji ground into you, the hard press of his cock at your thigh.

His lips left you. Your lips parted without your say, delirious from Yuji’s attention.

“Stop playing dumb, you —“

You feel something warm and wet smack your tongue and realize it’s him, spitting into your mouth. His tongue traced the line of your jaw until he met your ear again.

“You’re getting what you want, aren’t you?” Yuji said, his hand grazing against your clit like a false promise. “ I didn’t even have to play with you before, maybe your cunt is more behaved than I thought … Good girl.”

Yuji’s hand tightened over your throat, appendages molding into your skin. You mewled because it is all you can manage. A shameful wetness roiled between your thighs, a mixture of your juices and his.

His cum inside you.

Yuji seemed to notice your predicament because he faced you, grin darkening his face. “I imagine there’s one other place you’d like my cum,” he said. “Am I wrong?”

He lessened his grip so you could afford him a shaking head.

“N— no …”

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d envisioned Yuji’s cock in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to suck him off, the salt of his seed flavoring your tastebuds …

“Of course I’m not,” Yuji said.

He rose, bringing you along by the tug of your hair. He threw you to the floor and you stumbled, falling awkwardly on your butt, panties still tangled around your thighs. You groaned; you hurt everywhere, the pain Yuji had imprinted on your flesh and bones thrumming from every direction. Yuji gripped your hair again to adjust you on your knees before forcing you to face him.

Your eyes landed on the cock that had just assaulted you, still hard and ready at your lips.

Yuji didn’t wait, guiding his cock into your parted lips and waiting mouth. You gagged, planting hands on his thighs for space, but Yuji only pressed you farther by a hand at the back of your head.

“Suck,” he ordered — groaned.

You looked up at him through hooded lids. You hollowed your cheeks to supply the suction he’d demanded and you watched him hum. He was gorgeous, all sculpted chest and buff biceps and elegant neck. The sight of his marred skin only sent much-needed saliva to your mouth. Yuji’s hand ran through neopolitan pink hair as you serviced him at your knees.

“Nngh … You little whore,” he hissed, grip at the back of your head tightening, coupled with the rock of his hips. “I knew it, I knew it — urgh — allow me to leave you a little parting gift.”

Your hand worked the space of his shaft unoccupied by your mouth, stroking as you worked for his load. You heard his labored breath above you, sending thrums of excitement down to your cunt. His approving hums turned hurried with his cockhead having found the back of your throat.

Yuji’s fingers grazed your skin until they curled under your chin. He lifted your head, your gaze following suit.

“Is this the act of a shy person, (Y/n)?” he mocked between short breaths. “Panties around her ankles and a cock in her mouth?”

Your face grew hot with embarrassment before he threw your face away with a guttural rumbling in his throat. Tears pebbled the corner of your eyes. You sucked harder, hungering for his cock, for your gift. You felt his cock twitch on the pad of your waiting tongue.

“Yes, come on,” he urged. “Earn it. Earn it.”

Yuji’s cock pulsed against the flat of your tongue. He forced himself down your throat, the hot swell of his shaft tickling the palate of your mouth. With a few more assisted bobs of your mouth, he planted your face into his abdomen with a roar. Pubic hair tickled the tip of your nose as his cum splashed the back of your throat, licking its way down.

“Don’t swallow,” Yuji ordered, rocking his hips slowly to ride himself out in your mouth. “I wanna see —“

He choked his disappearing words down in the wake of his climax. You gagged as trails of cum escaped past your lips and rolled down to your chin.

Finally, finally, he released you, pulling your head off his cock.

He slapped your cheek expectantly. “Come on now, show me, show me.”

Yuji …

Delirious with him, you obeyed. You parted your lips to show him the desired evidence left on your abused tongue.

He laughed — soft at first, mirth rife with disbelief, only for it to dissolve into hysterics.

“Beautiful!” he said. “Truly, truly —“

He doubled over from his laughter. Tears that threatened your eyes fell now as you struggled not to swallow. Humiliation flared in your chest, rumbling your stomach like a poor meal. Yuji brushed past you to snatch something off the desk. Only when he returned to you did you see that it was the shadowy rectangle in his grasp was his phone.

“Stay. Keep your head up — thaaat’s it.”

Light flashed in your eyes as Yuji captured your depravity.

He raised his phone up to admire the picture. “Now I can see why humans carry such things.”

He threw his phone on the bed, affording you one final glance down at you before closing his eyes with a smile to himself.

“You can come back,” he said. “I’m through with your little slut.”

You watched, mouth finally closed and sore everywhere, as Yuji popped his eyes open; life flared in his irises as though having been deprived of it beforehand. Yuji blinked furiously, waking from some disorienting dream.

“Huh? I —“ he looked down and saw you.

Your head was filled with cotton. “Yu … ji?”

Realization colored Yuji’s face. “Oh … god.” He knelt down in front of you. “I — oh god, FUCK, (Y/n).”

You felt his hands adjust your clothes, flatten your hair. His hands were awkward, unsure in their movements. He stared at you in concern.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m — I’m so sorry,” he said.

You placed a hand on the bed to afford you purchase as you tried to stand. The space between your legs roared in protest and you whimpered, stumbling.

“God … oh god …” Yuji said. His arms settled on your arms and for a second you anticipated a hug, so Yuji to do, but none came, perhaps he thought it better not to after …

After.

“Let me get you cleaned up —“

“No,” your voice was shrunk, rivaling the pain rattled in your bones. You pulled your panties back up past your skirt. “I’m — I’m … okay.”

You meant to say clean, but a desire to laugh at the hilarity of such a statement stopped you.

“At least let me give you a ride home,” Yuji said as you walked to the door, soreness restricting your gait, “or — or —“

“I’m okay, Yuji …” You said, just a little more sure now. Your hand caressed the knob but you didn’t see it; your mind had turned to mush, reality blanketed by a sickening haze.

“A taxi, then,” Yuji said. “(Y/n), please, I can’t leave you like — like this.”

Your hand remained unmoved on the knob as you considered his words yet didn’t answer.

“A taxi,” Yuji said and you could almost hear him nodding. Yes, yes, a taxi would fix things, wouldn’t it? “I’ll order for you, just … stay here.”

His hands were on your shoulders, gently carrying you away from the door. You looked up at him as he guided you back to the ruined bed; his eyes were … normal, wide and almost childlike. He left you with a gentle touch to your hand for reassurance before grabbing his phone.

Yuji … You watched his fingers scurry across the screen, hand trembling as he held the device.

Who are you?

The next half hour carried on in a daze, an endless vignette of events ushering you from one moment to the next, mall snapshots taken seconds apart; Yuji ushering you gently into the backseat of the taxi; the streets, illuminated by nightlights, whishing past your window. The steps to your apartment. A door closing. Collapsing against fresh sheets.

You drifted into sleep — where, apparently, dreams and reality were one and the same.

-------

Sukuna waited with bated breath and excitement roiling the waters of his inner domain for the next time you dared to speak to his vessel.

He’d laughed himself silly watching the boy thrash his apartment, crying about the friendship lost between the two of you, damning him to hell.

You’re not getting rid of that picture on your phone, though, are you, little rat-faced runt?

Heh. Yeah, right.

Humans.

Even more fun lay imagining you the next morning, the memories of the night before coloring your mind before the panic set in and came your mad scramble for contraceptives. Ha!

But then it came. A chance encounter at the university. You paused on the walkway as your eyes met his. Your precious skin flushed with red at the sight of him. His vessel stumbled, swallowing hard at you in turn.

Sukuna’s smile cheshired.

What will you do? Will your eyes flicker down to the abs you loved so much? Will you speak first? He had to know, the human drama was delicious to behold.

“Hey …” it was Yuji who spoke first, nervous hands hiding in his pockets.

“H — Hi, Yuji …” You fiddled with the strap of your purse.

“Look …” Yuji’s gaze trailed downward. He gripped the handrail. Pathetic. “I … um … about that night —“

“It’s okay!” You said. “Really, it is!”

Like hell it was. Already, your mind must have done the legwork to rearrange the turn of events, desperate to make a sensical narrative out of it.

Sukuna watched you fidget through Yuji’s vision. Your legs rocked against one another in your cute little beige skirt. He … recognized something, a familiar gesture he’d learned from nights ruining women.

He leaned forward on his throne, anticipation clutching his hand.

Say it.

Yuji looked up, clearly astonished. “Really?” a blush. “Wha — what do you mean?”

“I …” You struggled. “I mean …”

Say it.

“What …” You stammered, your eyes glued to his shoes. “What I mean is …”

Say it, you shameless little whore —

“If you’d like to get together again sometime?” You said, your sweet eyes tinged with hunger at Yuji’s parting lips. “If you want?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, sure!”

From within, Sukuna bit into the sweetness of his victory.

Hook, line, sinker.

#sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x y/n #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n

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pinkandgoldensoul · 8 months

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CL#16 || Secret Motives || Oneshot

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If this is your first time here on this blog, please check the Disclaimers here.

pairing: charles leclerc x female f1 driver!reader plot: nothing in your life came easy, and so did f1: facing hardship in your first year at Alfa Romeo, you are met with a familiar face, Charles'. Supporting each other and spending time together will inevitably bind two souls that seemed meant to be or, as someone could put it, that were predestined. genre: friends to lovers, angst, fluff and comfort !tw!: mention of death (not reader's), mentions of grief, dieting and struggles with self-image, car crash, swearing, insecurities If any of the things above might trigger you, please DO NOT INTERACT. Take care of your mental health and stay away from triggers, please ♥ other notes: set in an alternative-not-really-defined 2023 season word count: 19.1k (feel free to use dividers to split the reading into chunks!)

Hope you enjoy it ♥ If you do, please let me know! Thanks in advance to whoever will like, reblog and comment!

Black. Blank. Silence. Calm. After speed, tension and rush, after the chaos and the endless chasing of time, after the high-pitched sound of the engine pierced in your brain as a usual background noise, mixed to the incessant heartbeats dictating sharp breaths, at last, stillness came. A peaceful void.

The voices of the press, of other people's expectations, of your team’s, of yours, they dissipated under the heat of the Spanish sun and they flew away with the wind's gusts. They were nothing but an agglomeration of words, sounds without shape, content without form, thus lacking meaning. You weren't underwater, but it felt like it: floating, soft, every sensation coming to you muffled, delayed, lightened.

You blinked. Imperceptibly moving your fingers, you listened to the rhythm of your heartbeats slowing down, as adrenaline gradually decreased. Your heart was pulsing harder, compelled to pump more blood in a reduced pace. «...okay? Y/n, are you okay? Can you hear me?» You heard your engineer's voice without listening. He didn't sound that worried, to be honest. You didn't care that much either. «Y/n, radio check.» A warm flush radiated through your cheeks, a tickling feeling formed in your throat, and you let out a choked cry: you were suffocating. «Can you hear me?» You let out a cough, unable to breathe. Was it… it? Was that how it felt like to die? At the thought, your mind emptied once again, enjoying the kaleidoscope of light dots dancing before your eyes in a disorganized pattern.

A sudden yelp of the crowd partly awoke you. You'd had a crash. Your car had smashed against the wall at turn 14, probably at around 120 kph; your hands had immediately left the steering wheel before the impact and were now lying lifeless onto your lap, unable to move and possibly switch the radio on, in case you could talk. But you couldn't. Not a single word would come out of your lips, parted under the balaclava, either to speak or try to breathe.

Right as you gave up to the choking clench, expecting it to hurt, to release the pressure building up in your throat and drift into unconsciousness, you noticed a shadow protecting you from the intense heat of the sun. Something tugged your seatbelt and, as soon as it loosened, your whole chest took the most out of that freedom, spasming in search of air, while panting and coughing. Something turned into a pair of hands grabbing your shoulders and carefully squeezing them, probably to get a reaction out of you. Gasping for air, you finally raised your head and your sight welcomed a bright, deep red suit, occupying your entire vision; some muffled words came from the Ferrari driver and got mixed with your engineer's voice, who kept trying to assess your state. Then, in a moment of radio silence, you captured the message of the man screaming under his helmet. Are you okay? For a second, you felt the impulse sent by your brain which asked your muscles to smile. Dying inside your cockpit after a crash, staring at his sparkling eyes could've been... sweet. Your seat in Alfa Romeo would've never been questioned again; your career in F1 would've come to a stop not due to the media's opinion or the team’s decision; you would've been remembered, politics and discussions aside, female or not. Everything you had been wanting to fix in your life, every bad habit, regret, nostalgia and sadness would disappear. But after giving in to the idea for hundredths of seconds, you immediately swept the thought away: how irrational and terribly stupid to think death could solve anything. And the mere possibility it could be used to enhance the narration of "women cannot drive in F1 and y/n's death is a clear example of it" killed you more than G force ever could. The face of your mother covered in tears while watching the race, sitting on the couch and sniffling with a tissue in hand started haunting you without a break. And watching him, bent over, trying to rescue you, eyes wide in alarm, couldn't help but make you feel miserable and ridiculous for even considering such a scenario.

With a shaking hand, you gestured your difficulties in breathing, bringing it near the throat. FUCK! A yell of frustration from him, another pant of struggle from you. Charles needed to get you out of the car, but didn’t know whether you had trouble walking, if your legs were fine after the shunt towards the barrier, if you would pass out while he was panicking trying to decide what to do. He carefully placed his hands under your armpits, beginning to lift you up; he did it with ease as you matched the movement and his effort with your hands and feet. «Oh dear! We’re so glad to see y/n out of the car!» As you kept breathing erratic and frenzy, Charles frenetically reached under your chin to help you remove the helmet and got rid of your balaclava, so that you could have an easier access to fresh air. «And we can see that Leclerc is taking off y/n’s helmet with quite a bit of rush! Hopefully everything’s okay…»

You inhaled and exhaled quite harshly, brows knitted in the effort and the struggle of the task; Charles’ hands prevented your chest from bending forward and crouching down, keeping you up and steady despite your body’s will to cave in. «Right now, Charles Leclerc is… calling for some help from the marshals, I think.» «SHE NEEDS HELP, come on!» The visor of his helmet was lifted, so that you could see his eyes searching for reassurances, which you were unable to provide. His concern pained you and only made you hyperventilate more, trying to get to talk. «Does your back hurt? Is it your ribs? Your head?» he kept asking with insistence and worry. The lost and shattered look inside your eyes gave a simple answer: You had no idea.

«Yeah, he’s gesturing towards them, he wants them to come closer… And look, he’s talking to her, probably making sure she’s alright.»

«Try breathing slower and deeply, like this. Does it still hurt?» Your fingers gripped tight his arms, reciprocating the hold Charles had on yours.

«It was a huge shunt, and it’s not hard to believe she’ll need to undergo some checking at the medical center.» «Not hard to believe indeed, considering the great crash we witnessed at lap 18 of the Spanish Grand Prix…»

You didn’t notice the medical car had arrived until you saw two doctors coming out and jogging on the gravel towards you and Charles. One of them, against your will, moved you away from Charles’ reassuring grab and began talking to you; while his words blurred in the heat and merged with the loud cheers of the crowd, your eyes were fixed upon the Ferrari driver in front of you, who was busy discussing with the other doctor.

You vainly tried to focus on his suit, on the mark the balaclava had gently pressed onto his skin, on his lips moving to articulate sounds and sentences you failed to grasp: his sight cradled you, calmed you down and helped you slowly regaining control over your breath, as you noticed your body being guided towards the ambulance which had just arrived, reluctantly letting go of Charles’ presence. # «Miss, could you please tell me your name?» You crossed your arms, visibly annoyed. «I’m y/n, I’m okay and I know I’ve had a crash.» you replied, annoyed.

The doctor flipped a page of the results from the exams they had run and then sighed, almost amused at your stubbornness. «Miss, from the data the race control has sent us, you’ve had a 17G impact, and the driver who aided you reported you had problems regaining your breath right after the shunt. You might feel fine right now due to relatively high levels of adrenaline, but it is not something meant to be underestimated.» he smiled politely. «May I go on?» You lightly nodded, pensive. You had no measure of comparison when it came to G-force in accidents, but it had definitely been the worst you had got into. No questions. «Do you remember the dynamic of the crash?» You hesitated, staring into the void in search of those moments; as the scene unfolded before your eyes, you began speaking. «I was behind Cha- I mean, Leclerc. I think he made a mistake at turn 13 and I was quicker than him in the last corner, so I wanted to overtake him before the main straight.» Unsure whether you had to continue or stop the report, you glanced at the doctor, who simply waited, silent. «Uhm… Yeah. Since I thought Charles would keep the outer line, I tried to overtake him on the inside. It didn’t work, obviously.» you snorted, sarcastic and let down by your own move. What a stupid choice.

«I shouldn’t have been so daring and optimistic.» you added. «If it helps, Leclerc didn’t seem upset at you at all about that move.» the doctor smiled in reassurance. Reasoning on his words, your eyes went wide, since only at those it struck you. You had taken Charles out of the race. For some unexplainable cause, you hadn’t considered it; seeing him helping you out felt too good to be true, a fairytale dream in which Charles had pulled over and deliberately stopped driving his race to rescue you. Of course, you had dragged him into your mistake, potentially causing damage to his car and putting his life at risk as well. What a reckless, inconsiderate move.

«Is he okay??» you asked, urge laced in your tone. «Yes. His car stopped before impacting against the barriers because of the angle in which you two touched.» the doctor calmly explained. «He was a little bit slower than you as he entered the corner and he spun a little, so your trajectories towards the wall were different.» With lost eyes, you stared once again at the void. It was your third crash of the season. At the Albert Park’s circuit, a collision at the restart had ruined your race. In Monaco, well… It had been your mistake, in qualifying, and it had prevented you from starting in the grid on Sunday. And now Montmelò. The worst shunt out of the three, which would cost a fortune to the team. You closed your eyes, defeated. You knew it would be tough, you’d always known, ‘cause it had always been.

«So, now you’ll be taken to the nearest hospital just for some more routine exams we couldn’t take here, but you should be fine.» the doctor said, standing up. «Take care, miss.» You shook the hand he had offered you, a tad confused, and turning around you were met by your assistant’s worried face. She was in her first year at Alfa Romeo as well; you hadn’t had the time to bond with her deeply, but she probably was the only one you fully trusted in the whole team. Which wasn’t ideal. # «So? Any news?» «They told me they’re taking her to the hospital for further checks, but she seems to be fine.» «Are you sure? She had serious problems breathing…» «Well, all the drivers are breathless after a huge shunt. But you know this better than I do.» Charles sighed at his manager’s words.

He had walked back to the hospitality, got changed and contacted Nicholas Todt right after, in search of news from the primary source. Then, strolling towards the media pen for the routine mid-race interviews after a crash occurred, he had spent the last twenty minutes insistently asking himself what had caused such a contact: he needed to look at some on boards to get it clear, but he wanted to talk it out with you, still worried about your conditions and confused by your driving behavior. He didn’t expect you to try for an overtake there. He wouldn’t expect any driver to. It just… didn’t make sense, for a driver like you.

When he saw you arriving at the pen with your assistant, Charles couldn’t help but leave hanging the journalist who had just begun introducing her question. His approach took you off guard, but you deeply inhaled, definitely not shocked to have him searching for explanations. «I thought you were doing some other checks at the hospital. Are you alright?» he asked, barely audible. «Yes, it was just… uhm… routine stuff. You know, for the deceleration of the impact.» «Thank God.» he let out, in a sigh, looking elsewhere. «Listen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your race… And put you in danger, of course… It- I thought there was a gap since you were going a bit slower than me, but it was nonetheless a terrible idea, and-» «Don’t worry about my race, I was struggling massively with the tires anyway.» Charles smiled, half trying to calm you down, half downplaying his frustration. «But you’re right, I made a mistake. I should’ve paid more attention to you. You know, I’m not used to rookies going at the speed of light and not having any mercy.» His gentleman smile sparked some light inside of you as well, and you naturally mimicked him. Something… something about the look in his eyes reminded of a distant memory you couldn’t pinpoint. You just shrugged it off: your assistant gently touched your shoulder, suggesting it was time to feed journalists with well-crafted lies. ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ Ice cream wrapped around his fingers, he stood next to the fence watching Arthur’s kart speeding past him, waiting for him to jump off the seat and let him hit drive to the limit once again. It was Sunday, but it had rained throughout the night, so the track was green - little to no grip available for the small tires to hold on to - and, because of it, empty. No one had dared to show up in such conditions, except for, that is, two families: Leclerc's and yours. You had never properly introduced yourself to each other before that day, but you were well aware of the phenomenal performances of the fifteen years old guy eating ice-cream with his suit hanging off, ruffled hair, focused on the action. You had raced once against Arthur, his younger brother, but stupidly enough you didn't expect them to be related. Seeing the entire family at the track was unusual, indeed.

«How did the tires feel?» your father asked you. «Good, but…» «But?» your father prompted. «…but some corners are very slippery.» Undisturbed, your eyes didn't fall upon your dad's face once, lost in contemplation. It was only natural for you to miss the other question he addressed, since you were still staring at the white-suited boy, a hand gripping the metallic mesh of the fence. «Y/n?» «Uh?» «Are you listening?» he raised a brow, skeptical. «Sorry. What was the question?» you shrugged. Your dad, subtly, glanced at the point you had been staring, immediately noticing the spark of your interest. «I asked if… if you want to have a snack. It's almost lunch time.» he asked, glancing at his watch. «Yes! I'm hungry!»

You both came back with a sandwich in hand, chit chatting about the upcoming race and your latest performances. Before you could make it back to your van, heavy bullets of rain hit your skin and head: the dark clouds covering the track had turned into a waterfall without any warning. You both ran to your kart, trying to cover the seat so it wouldn't get soaked, putting two umbrellas over it, but depriving yourselves of repair. «Let's go in the trunk!» The air was humid and thick. You sat next to your dad, staring at the rain, him with crossed legs, you with a cheek resting on one of raised knees. He looked at you and laughed at your antics. «Don't be so sad, y/n. You put in a lot of laps yesterday.» «But I wanted to do more. Now we're stuck here and we can't do anything.» «That's not true. We can… enjoy the moment. Look up there, the clouds cover the treetops.» You turned your head towards the point he was showing you, but your eyes were soon caught by a figure walking towards the two of you, under a red umbrella. «Do you need help with the kart?» the man asked, with a thick French accent. You stared at your dad, only to see him indifferent to the offer. «No, thanks, we're good.» You almost rolled your eyes. He was a proud man. He had sacrificed a lot to make you enter the karting world and didn't want you to be considered less of a serious competitor because of money and facilities: you already had to face the prejudices of being a girl. He didn’t like getting help from others, since he had always provided you with everything, and wasn’t willing to give in, at all. «Uhm… I think it would be better to put the kart under our gazebo.» the man said, pointing at it. «It isn't big, but it's better than nothing.» While your father pondered the proposal, you enthusiastically smiled and thanked the man, running towards the kart and starting to push the cart. As you both placed the kart next to theirs, the man - Arthur's father - got near your once again. «We have some ice-cream, if you're hungry.» Your eyes sparkled, and your father knew there was no way of stopping you. Hervé, that was his name, called someone in French words and spoke words you were unable to understand. Your dad first smiled at you, enjoying the smile lighting up your face, then looked back at Hervé Leclerc. «Thanks for… all of this. But… Why…?» Hervé interrupted him. «I know what it feels like to give up everything for your child's dream. I respect you and your daughter a lot. We don't have a lot either, but I'm happy to share it with you.» Your father, stunned, at a loss of words, didn't get the chance to thank the man again, as Arthur and his brothers stormed with a box of ice-cream, yelling in thrill and joy as they chased each other.

A bit unsure, you waited for Arthur to serve himself first, then got near and looked at the flavors, indecisive. «Hazelnut is the best.» you heard behind you. Turning your head, you crossed a pair of big, bright, dreamy green eyes. Your heart was flinging towards them, and you felt so enchanted you wanted to show to everybody such a beautiful sight. «Don't you like it?» he asked, noticing your lost expression. «No, I love it!» you shied away, starting to fill your cup. You both sat down at a small table as Hervé and your father talked; you awkwardly smiled whenever that mysterious Leclerc's eyes would meet yours. «What's your name?» he suddenly asked, probably worn out by the silence. You played with the plastic spoon out of nervousness, flattening a curl of ice cream before answering. «Y/n. And yours?» you shyly said. «Charles.»

«Can I begin? Perfect. So, I think the first topic on the list that we need to tackle is today’s crash…»

Your lips twitched in a sarcastic smile filled with tension and hatred. «Y/n, you know this is your third crash this year and our budget-» «Thanks for asking how I’m doing and checking up on me at the medical center. Glad to see you place more value in money rather than in someone’s life.» As all the engineers slowly turned their heads to glance over at your crossed arms, your eyes pierced the wooden desk, deafening silence. «I’m pretty sure your assistant was there.» «So what? Do you think that’s an excuse? Even Charles, who drives for Ferrari, treated me better than my own team!»

You saw Alunni Bravi, Alfa’s team principal, snorting in annoyance. «Speaking of! If you two have to talk all lovey-dovey, please don’t do it in front of cameras… We’re full of problems as it is…» he said, rubbing his temples to soothe a heavy headache. «I… thought he was going to confront me about the crash.» you lowered your chin. He sighed, hid his face in your hands. «Y/n, listen… You know what we both need: results. The team needs points and the least damage possible, and you need that yourself, to prove you deserve your seat in F1. You see, we are heading toward the same direction, so why don’t we join forces instead of clashing against each other?» «Do you think I crashed on purpose?!» you asked, bewildered. «No, but you can’t afford to be too aggressive, otherwise you’ll get today’s result. It puts at risk your and other drivers’ safety, your team’s finances and gives the mechanics an awful amount of extra work.» The thought of the mechanics staying up late, not respecting the curfew, without receiving any raise for it reminded you of your dad doing the same back in the karting days, always working for you, with you. You swallowed hard your pride. Shifting on your seat to find a more comfortable position, you cleared your voice. «I’ll do better.» The team principal lightly lifted the corner of his lips. «I’m sure you will, y/n.»

Push. You’re worthy. Stronger. You deserve it. Until. You fought for this. You. It makes you feel alive. Make it.

The gym’s mirror reflected your mechanical, precise, controlled movements; you followed them with the sight, eyes and thoughts running wild across the room. The burn igniting your muscles, the sweat glowing in pearls under the neon lights, the skin wrapped inside loose-fitting clothes felt like heaven upon your body. «Okay, that’s it!» At your coach’s voice, you abruptly turned around. «What?» you asked, panting. «We’re done, you did all the reps.» she plainly said. «Already?» you asked, picking up from the ground your water bottle and taking a sip. «We’ve been here for two hours, y/n… Aren’t you tired?» she laughed at you. You shrugged, unable to perceive the weight of exhaustion. «I feel fine.» you replied. «Right, Miss Fine, let’s do a bit of stretching.»

After your coach had given you info about the diet and the workout plan for the next day, you waited for her to leave the gym before changing into a clean outfit. You removed the oversized shirt you always used and looked down at the waistband of your leggings, running the gap between the cloth and your skin with the thumb. You closed your eyes, both tasting the satisfaction of the moment and remotely despising the need for the achievement. But you couldn’t hide it: you were happy you had lost some more weight. You had been working so hard on improving your performance and proving you were putting your maximum effort into it.

It was sick, you felt it: you carried out the exercises like a machine, engaging your muscles and your core to extract all the potential benefits from the workout, convinced that it would automatically lead to better results. You struggled to define it, but it was such a self-consuming delight. ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ Being fifteen was difficult. Low self-esteem, identity crises instead of identity building, paranoia, confusion, hormones taking over, fear of the future, broken illusions. Things nobody at that age is programmed to deal with it anyway.

However, being a fifteen-year-old girl competing against pimply guys proved itself to be even more challenging than teenage already managed: more so, if those underdeveloped brains couldn’t spot anything that made you a girl to their eyes. Apart from social isolation and lack of friendships and acquaintances during karting competitions, that is. You had cut your hair short so that it would be easier to put your helmet on and no strand would get in the way; you were as tall as other drivers were, in some cases even taller; and you were thin, lean, light as a feather, dancing on your kart with grace. Clearly, they expected something different: they wanted to see more than a flat chest under the fire suit, more than a nonexistent bun; perhaps a soft and lost stare, the insecurity of someone who doesn’t belong the sport, the ingenuity of the newbie, the incapability of being a serious competitor. You let them down and proved them wrong, one by one. You spared nobody, killed them with obstinate tenacity, flashing smiles only whenever you stepped on the highest stair of the podium. Unluckily, they had another reason to crack jokes about you. Behind the fence, cheering for you, helping as much as possible with the kart setups, the tires, the engine, there was your mother. In the wide multitude of fathers, uncles and big brothers, your mother was the only woman getting her hands dirty and oily to help you out. Mistrust and envy were the inevitable dues to pay, every race, every time you two entered the track holding hands. # «There are too many people.» Charles said, grumbling. «C’mon, you’re doing it for Arthur!» «He’s a lucky brother.» he sighed. Lorenzo and Charles were walking towards the heart of the small paddock and searched for their younger sibling; an impossible task, since the entire place was packed with teens they were navigating through. Slowly moving past people, Charles couldn’t help but overhear a piece of conversation. «Did you see her mom?» «Yeah, they’re both ridiculous!» «Why, what’s wrong with them?» «Arthur!» Charles called, recognizing his brother’s voice. «Finally, here you are.» Without paying attention to the hand resting on his shoulder, the blonde driver still looked astonished at his mates. «Why does her mother come to the track with her?» he asked. «Because her father died.» Charles pieced the conversation back together and blinked a couple of times, making sense of it. As a reflex, like he already knew, he immediately spotted you in the middle of the crowd, holding your cup, hugging your mother. He struggled to make out your face, with the new haircut, but he still could tell it was you, the same girl eating ice-cream and often racing with Arthur, the same driver his father had told him about. He remembered you sitting in your dad’s lap, laughing with him, under the gazebo, surrounded by the sound of the pouring rain, as he spied on the two of you from inside the van, too scared to talk to you any further and ruin the special moment between a father and his daughter. A sea of people separating you, a sidereal space of loneliness and time creating an unbreakable wall: maybe you didn’t even remember who he was. However, Charles searched for thoughts of comfort to offer to you telepathically, not really able to find much; he didn’t know what he really meant to lose a parent and didn’t want to dwell too much on it.

Still, a few years later, looking at some pictures taken on that rainy afternoon, watching your fathers half hugging and smiling to the camera, the two of you sat behind them, being reminded of hidden memories and fears, forcing tears to run inside without showing, getting a taste of the same bitter loss’ cocktail you had tasted, sitting back onto the couch and staring at the void, he would.

«Alfa Romeo has announced some major changes inside the team. In the last couple of weeks some leaks hinted at the possibility of y/n y/l/n being replaced mid-year, during the summer break.»

«I don’t think there’s anything wrong with women in Formula One, but… they need to meet certain standards, you know? And I’m not quite sure y/n is doing that.»

«She's not going to stay in the sport too long without getting results... It's a simple equation: results equal money which equals contract.»

«A lot of drivers would die to have her seat and I’m sure Alfa Romeo has started looking around to see if someone has the right profile… Because let’s face it, it doesn’t seem like y/n does.»

You put down your phone and slowly stirred a cup of coffee the team had offered you. Tiredness crawled in every hidden angle of your body. News like those were filling up the internet since Barcelona; and as if luck hasn’t been abundant enough, you’d had yet another mechanical failure, the second in the span of three races. Some malevolent voices implied they were due to the previous crashes you’d had. You truly wanted to get angry, but you didn’t care anymore. You felt defeated. It felt so miserable to be following the race from the box, sitting there, helpless, either willing to scream or cry, watching the world go round in circles, without you. After all, that feeling wasn’t new to you. ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ The first time was tough. Arriving at the track, taking the kart out of the van, setting everything up; ignoring the foreign stares, resting your hands upon the steering wheel, driving the first lap. It was beyond rough. You weren’t as focused as you wanted to: you made a lot of corrections, went wide multiple times, missed the apex a couple of times. You inevitably felt frustrated by your own lack of pace and performance. That was only practice for what was to come; the first race was even harder to handle. A burden down your shoulders and chest made it difficult to breathe, your heart struggled pumping your adrenaline-fueled blood fast enough. You didn’t want to let him down. It was the secret promise you’d made with yourself without even knowing, something you’d always kept silent to others and to your own conscience.

After endless laps of chasing, constantly turning back to see how close your rivals were, examining the gaps and choosing different lines, you crossed the start and finish line and you felt hot tears wetting your skin: you had won the race. It was a strange type of happiness, a conflicting one, which you would get familiar with over time. You quickly wiped your cheeks, jumping out the kart: you just remembered running towards the podium, overwhelmed by that new brimming feeling pulsing inside of you, not capable of determining whether it caused tears to flow in joy or sadness. Proudly holding the cup you had been handed, you lifted it to the bright blue sky, and you looked at him.

With the little trophy in your hand and the helmet hanging off your fingers, you walked to the van and sat in the passenger seat, wrapped by silence. Lost gazing inside the golden reflection of the cup, you cried. Head tilted back, eyes shut in pain, you held your sobs in as much as you could.

It was tough, hitting the track for the first time after your father had passed away; but what hurt the most was that trophy, that unexpected win, which definitely meant you would have to – and could – go on without him, doing what you had always done. Your promise, your secret motive, you’d live for it: as if he watched you from the grandstands, followed you with his careful eyes, cheering for you, and driving you back home after every race, while you peacefully drifted away next to him. ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ You sat on a bench inside the paddock as it emptied of life, people leaving and walking around you as industrious ants crowding the space. «Y/n!» At the call, you naturally turned around: it was easy to spot Charles, still rocking Ferrari merch, approaching you. «Hi, Charles.» «Hi.» he said, sitting next to you and looking at the setting sun.

You secretly wondered what had brought him there, absorbed, in silence. He seemed peaceful, but you knew his race hadn't been particularly rewarding because of a grid penalty at the start, and you could almost see disappointment and dissatisfaction creating turmoil inside his irises. A small realization hit you, and it raised a pinch of embarrassment in you as it did: because, since Charles was enchanted by the sunset and you were intent on reading his expressive eyes, you were both caught staring at two beautiful sights.

«Your pace was really good.» he let you know. «Are you saying this because you struggled to overtake me after your pit stop?» you asked, a bit amused. «Well...» At his hesitation, you both laughed. «You had pace and your defending was annoyingly good.» he finished with a smile. «Without the mechanical failure, it could've been an easy P6 for you.» «But I had a mechanical failure, Charles. It doesn't matter what could've been, if it hasn't happened.» you bitterly remarked, staring back at the sky. «It does matter, instead.» he looked at you. «You made a lot of progress since the beginning of the year and I'm sure you'll score your first points very soon.» «If I'm not out by mid-season.» At your lapidary comment, Charles blinked, thinking, then looked at you again. «The team needs you. I know Zhou and he's a good driver, but in terms of pace... you're better.» «But he brings the car home and I don't.» «You've always out qualified him.» he reminded you. «How do you know?» you asked, shocked. You hadn’t even noticed it yourself, how could he know? He shrugged. «Overheard a conversation.»

Charles waited a few seconds before speaking up again, still thinking. «You've worked hard to get here. Don't bring yourself down because of what other people say.» You sighed and faced the sky, a shiver running down your spine as a gust of night breeze caressed your cheek. «They're trying to drown me, Charles.» you sadly reflected out loud, dropping your head down. Charles, looking at your hand gripping the bench, put his hand upon yours. «You know how to swim, y/n. I think nobody else in the grid knows the pressure of the sport better than you do, and since you made it this far it would be stupid to let go right now.» On his features, you read a feeling you didn’t expect: regret. It was all over him, in the way he searched for words, wetted his lips, glanced around, then stared back at you. «You can count on me. For anything, really.» he added. Regret was soon replaced by comfort; the weight of his palm's skin onto yours radiated a wave of calm, quiet, peace. And as the sun dived into the horizon, offering its last rays of orange gold, on that bench isolated from chaos, you felt safe.

As you crossed the start and finish line, your eyes flicked towards the billboard in the pitlane. A rush of excitement freed the breath you had been holding all along: the race was over. «P9! Good job!» «Y/n, congrats on your first points. Had a strong pace all weekend, well done!» «Thank you, thank you, guys.»

Switching off the radio, you screamed under your helmet: in joy and disbelief, because you finally got to the place you deserved to be; in frustration, because you knew the strategy had concealed the true potential of your form and the feeling you had found with the car, making it hard to fully appreciate the results without fantasizing about what could've been. Nonetheless, thanks to the adrenaline and the G-forces loosening their grip, you felt a small weight being lifted off your shoulders: you had achieved your first milestone in F1 and nobody could contest it. Nobody could take those points away from you.

Arriving at the pitlane, the team engineers seemed to react lukewarm to the performance; the mechanics, though, engulfed you in a group hug and clapped at you, visibly satisfied and content with yours and their work as well.

«Y/n! How does it feel to score your first points in F1?» «Well, of course.» you smiled, a bit nervous at the unusually welcoming question. «I’m satisfied with today’s race, but… I think there is more work to do. Our pace deserved more and better results are definitely within our reach.» «So hungry for points after tasting them for the first time!» the journalist joked, laughing. As you tried to shy off embarrassment with a smile, holding onto the barricade a bit tighter, you felt a soft touch brushing your back, halfway between a greeting and a request of permission; the light weight lingered a few seconds, before a figure dressed up in red reluctantly positioned next to you to be interviewed. His smile only made you smile bigger and redder. «Good job!» Charles spoke in a soft tone, his fingers still vaguely tracing circles on your back, unbeknownst to the cameras facing the two of you. «You did a good job too, with George. Some fair and hard racing!» you referred to a scene you had been able to see on the screens throughout the race. «Tell me about it.» he laughed. «But what did I say? Was I wrong about your first points?» he added, subtly tickling your back with his fingertips.

Lost in the bliss of the interaction, flustered because of the heat and the cameras pointing at you, the redness of your face lit up brighter as the journalist spoke. «What’s that, Charles?» she asked, intrigued by his words. «Did you tell her she would score points in this race?» He mildly smiled, getting closer to the fence – and to you – looking down to collect his thoughts. «No, I didn’t.» he laughed. «But I was sure she would end up in the positions that matters pretty soon and… here she is!» His body involuntarily leaned over to you to answer the question, combined with the kind and gentle tone he was delivering compliments with, made you glance elsewhere and forced you to suppress a smile. «So did you guys talk about it?» the journalist teased again. «We bumped into each other in the paddock and I told her, yeah.» «You seem to trust her skills a lot.» «I do. I mean, I’ve seen her race in karting and in minor formulas a couple times and I could see it with my own eyes. She was well-known for her talent and hard work, and now she’s proving it in one of the toughest and most competitive motorsport championships of the world. To be honest, I’m not surprised and I’m happy for her because she clearly deserves it.» «Y/n, how do you feel about these words?» the journalist finally addressed you once again, waiting for your answer with a grin. «Grateful. Usually people are complaining about my performances…» you laughed, a bit uptight. «So… hearing appreciative words from a driver I highly respect and look up to means a lot.»

Charles couldn’t help but grin in delight at your words: he had involuntarily kind of followed your career up to Formula One, and the idea you had possibly taken him as a point of reference flattered him deeply. He had always known you would make it. ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ Fidgeting with his Ray Ban sunglasses, Charles walked inside the paddock alongside Pierre. «The weather is so nice here.» «It’s Brazil, what do you expect?» the Frenchman snorted. «I’m just saying.» Charles replied, putting his glasses on. Not paying attention to the cameras taking pictures and videos of them as they casually strolled by, Pierre suddenly awoke from his silence and spoke. «I forgot to ask you something.» «What is it?» «You know the girl who races in F2 with Arthur?» Charles hummed, looking back at him. «Yeah, y/n. What about her?» At his best friend’s confidence, Pierre raised his brows. «Do you know her that well? I don’t even remember her last name.» «Well, didn’t expect much more than that from you.» The inevitable jokingly taps and protests Charles deserved for that comment caused laughter between the two of them. «So? What about y/n?» Charles asked, going back to the topic. «They say she’s racing for Alfa Romeo next year.» «Well, she’s leading the championship right now.» Charles said, matter-of-factly. «Yeah, but do you understand how big the news is? A woman in F1 after so many years…» Pierre lowered his head, in thought. «Alfa must be in a difficult situation if they’re doing this.» «Why?» Charles quickly inquired. «Because sponsors will court her, which means a lot of brand deals… and money to the team.»

Charles knitted his eyebrows together and walked looking at his shoes. It wasn’t possible that a talent like you would only get hired because of money. He had seen you drive, win against his brother and a lot of other good drivers, he had seen your determination every time he had celebrated one of Arthur’s podiums, because you were always in the top three. On the other hand, Charles couldn’t say he was a stranger to the financial difficulties Alfa Romeo was facing: the lack of upgrades, the never-ending waltz with sponsors and actionists, the upcoming renewal as Sauber and then Audi. Alfa danced in a sea full of uncertainty, so it probably represented the only team in the position to gamble and provide a seat for the first female driver after such a long time. Once again, his father’s words of appreciation towards you resurfaced: Charles hoped the rumor to be true, because he was sure you deserved it. # «Thank you, Esteban. Charles, I’m coming back to you: can you share with us your thoughts regarding the news too? We know your brother is racing in F2 as well and we’d like to have your piece of mind.» He raised the microphone, smiling to himself, sure he would be asked about it as soon as he had heard the question. «I’ve attended and watched some races because of my brother, as you’ve mentioned, but I think numbers speak for themselves. She’s leading the championship and from what I know she’s always performed brilliantly in minor formulas too.» «Right. We know that you and y/n share the same agent, Nicholas Todt. Were you ever introduced to one another by him?» Charles frowned at the follow-up question. «Uhm, no, we never met through him.» «Okay, thank you very much. Moving on to the next question…»

As Albon was addressed by the journalist, Pierre, sitting next to him, raised a brow and gave Charles a inquiring look, perceiving a lack of clarity in your answer. The Monegasque simply glanced over him and pretended not to see his confusion, keeping to himself that distant but lifeful memory of you. ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ «And this is the end of the tour.» your assistant said, gesturing with her hands to the hospitality hall. «Thanks, it looks… fresh.» you commented, still looking around. Exiting the building, you followed her steps, going towards the media pen for some brief interviews of that Wednesday. Your first ever week in F1.

Before you could notice, your assistant waved at a girl dressed in red, focused on her phone; greeting her as well, the two approached one another and engaged in a conversation. «Hi.» As you heard that unforeseen greeting, you finally noticed Charles, whose assistant was caught talking with yours. It was the first time you were seeing him after such a long time: the rubber smell, the oily hands, karts speeding on the track for hours. A pang of nostalgia hit your stomach like a punch, paired with those green eyes you’d never been able to forget and a tiny smile onto his lips. «H-hi!» you only managed to say. «I’m sorry I didn’t congratulate you before, but I thought I’d do it once I saw you on track. Really happy for you.» «Oh, thank you.» The contrast between the deep conversation running right next to you and the silence full of untold memories sharpened the veil of embarrassment trapping you: you both couldn’t stop glancing at each other briefly before diverting gaze as soon as you got noticed. The moment your assistants seemed to be over the intense chatter, you almost sighed in relief. «See you soon, y/n!» Charles greeted, walking away. With a small hand gesture, you reciprocated his kindness with awkwardness. It was hard to hide it: receiving such a pleasing treatment from another driver warmed your heart, as much as the thought of his young face and the few moments spent together did.

Sitting onto a leather couch, pressing your knees together, you peeked at the jewelry exposed onto the crystal table coffee in front of you. Lost in contemplation, you immediately raised your head as a pair of heels echoed through the room. «So… This is the winter collection we’d like to promote.» the woman said, sitting in front of you. «We’d like you to pose and take pictures with the bracelets first and then with the entire parure on. Then, if there is the chance, you’ll be joined by one of our biggest promoters for some overview photos of both the male and female collection.» «Of course.» you nodded.

You would’ve never thought being a female F1 driver could have perks… But it did. And one of them was that an endless number of brands wanted to be promoted by you. At first you had been reluctant at the thought of spending part of your summer break going through sponsors activities and promos, but at the sight of the building location chosen for the shoot and the fine jewels laying before your eyes, the laziness left room to placid enjoyment of the moment. At least you were sponsoring some good products. # «Raise the arm a bit higher, please… Perfect! Beautiful!» Enjoying the breeze onto the balcony, you glanced over at the sea behind you, caressing your arms’ shivering skin. The light reflecting upon the water made a mesmerizing scenery to stare at, joy filling the eyes. The blissful haze got suddenly interrupted by a bunch of steps, shuffling and chatter: it all quickly marched towards you, invading the space of the balcony and disturbing your peace. In confusion, you scanned the faces of the newcomers, only to be met by the graceful figure of Charles. A rush of electricity linked you both as you made eye contact. «Y/n, this is the person I was talking about earlier, Charles Leclerc.» said the woman who had given you instructions at the beginning of the shoot. Charles couldn’t help but laugh a little. «Oh, don’t worry, she knows.» he told her. «Oh, really?» she gaped. «We’re… we’re both F1 drivers.» you said, nervously chuckling. «Right! I’m so sorry! I feel embarrassed now… Well, I see no introductions are needed, then.» she blushed heavily. «It’s okay, there’s no need to apologize.» he reassured her.

He swiftly moved next to you and started whispering without looking at you, a courtesy smile plastered on his lips all throughout as he joined you scanning the surroundings and the staff moving around erratic. «I didn’t know you were a sponsor as well.» «Didn’t expect to find you here either.» you raised brows, to display surprise. Charles simply leaned his forearm onto the handrail of the balcony and gazed inside the living area, still smirking. «Well, let’s show the world how to do this properly.» One person from the staff came back to you with the jewels you had to wear, offering Charles some as well. # «Last but not least… We’d like to have a picture with this necklace.» As it was handed to you, you stared at it in awe: your eyes brimmed with the Swarovski’s reflection of the fine piece, delicate and bright as a snow crystal under the sun. «It’s beautiful.» Charles said, stealing the words you had in mind. «It is.» you remarked. Seeing your hands open the necklace and bringing it closer to your nape, Charles immediately halted your movements touching your hands, gently stopping them. «What… What if we take the picture while I put the necklace for her?» he asked, addressing the staff. Your wide eyes read excitement and appreciation in his proposal.

Without even acknowledging the fact those movements were mere acting for the shoot, you sincerely enjoyed the moment, getting surprised by Charles’ tenderness while brushing your hair away, while you were looking down at the charm and admiring it between your fingers, unconsciously smiling. You couldn’t help but quickly turn your head and look at him, too fast to think of how close that would bring your faces, your lips a few inches away. Green, gold and pink heavenly mixed on his features as colors on a canvas, taking over your senses. «Amazing! That was awesome. Thanks!» the photographer said, getting the attention of the both of you. With a silent sign of end of activities, while the staff moved around to bring all the equipment back inside, you turned around ending up between Charles arms, still spinning around the shining charm. «Do you like it?» he murmured, fingers brushing your forearms. «It’s… It’s beautiful, really.» you replied, eyes down on it. «And you? What do you think?» you asked, smiling. «It looks absolutely perfect on you.» Flustered, since your question wanted to refer to the collection and not on the way the necklace fitted you, you mentally thanked the sponsor manager walking up to you. «Well, thank you for your time. You did an extraordinary job and I’m sure the launch of the collection will be a success!» With a thanking smile on, you didn’t expect to hear the words Charles said right after. «Can she keep the necklace?» Almost choking on your own saliva, your eyes wide opened in shock; the manager hadn’t anticipated that either, at a loss of words. «I can buy it, of course.» Charles quickly added, afraid her puzzlement was caused by the impossibility of gifting for free the jewel. «No, there’s no need to! If… if you like it that much, we’re more than happy to gift it! There’s nothing better than sponsors who love our products.»

After the weird conversation, you both stared at her walking back inside the apartment, still standing next to each other on the balcony. «Why did you do it?» you looked up at him and asked. «Because I wanted to ask you something and I need to hear a yes.» he chuckled, while you mouthed a “What?”. «No, I actually think it looks good on you, so I thought you should have it.» «What’s the question?» you quickly let out, in order to shoo away his flattering comment which made you blush. «Why don’t you join me for the rest of the summer? To work out, go to the beach, spend time together, you know.» «I can’t believe you’ve bribed me with a necklace you didn’t even pay for.» you laughed. «So? Did I hurt your pride?» Charles asked, subtly encircling your waist. «Yes, and I’d like to avenge…» you said. «But unluckily I’ll need to come along with you if I want to.» «Oh, that’s bad news.» Charles raised his brows, mirroring your playful grin. «That sounds like a plan, then.» «It does.»

Sunkissed, you enjoyed the rays tickling onto your skin, eyes shut due to the light, propped onto your hands. Waves, iodine and freedom rocking you back and forth like a baby inside a cradle, your lips naturally curved upward, in bliss. «Hey, y/n!» Turning your head in reaction to the call, you noticed it was one of Charles’ close friends. «Do you want to play table tennis with us?» «Of course!» you chirped, quickly getting up from the deck chair you were sitting on. «Who is winning?» you asked, when you came close to him. «We’ve just started, but Charles is already losing somehow.» he laughed. «Good job!» you joined him.

The inside of the yacht was finely crafted, emanating comfort and luxury, but it didn’t feel cold: decorations and clutter clearly characterized it, added a personal and unmistakable touch that made it even more welcoming. Walking to reach the guys playing on the opposite end of the boat, you were caught by a picture on a shelf, which hit you like a freight train full of memories, nostalgia and tenderness all at once: looking at it, you struggled to recognize your father’s face, realized the sound of his voice was so hard to recall. You quickly diverted your eyes from the happy stare of your dad’s, focusing on two teens in the background, sitting onto plastic chairs: you were eating ice cream with a leg huddled and the other touching the ground, while Charles sat leg-crossed, looking at you.

You couldn’t believe time had flown by so fast, so destructive, so insensitive and so careless in pulling strings that crossed the years, only to bring you in that yacht and contemplate the beauty of destiny. «Good memories, huh?» Charles’ voice surprised you, making you turn your head abruptly to glance. «Came here not to feel the burn of defeat?» you asked, teasingly. «You wish. I’m winning, I think that’s obvious.» he said, overconfident. After the quick exchange, you both looked back at the photograph, incapable of ignoring it for too long. «I didn’t know they took a picture that day.» you said, more to yourself than really talking to him. «Arthur took it. And this is why we’re also in it, even though it should’ve been just them.» Charles said, unable to hold a smile at his brother’s poor skills. «Do you think it is possible to make a copy of it?» you asked, after a couple of seconds. «I think so, yes. Do you want it?» You hesitated, then nodded towards him. «I’d like to gift it to my mom, she really likes looking at old pictures. But cut us out, I’d prefer the photo with just the two of them.» you said, pointing at the younger versions of yourself. «What?! We’re so cute, why do you want us to be cut out?» Charles asked, infecting you with his laugh. «You can make a separate picture with the cutout.» you joked. «I will, for sure. I mean, we look too good.» You chuckled at his words. «Me wearing a suit dirty with engine oil and you eating ice cream like you care about nothing else.» «On plastic chairs.» you added. «On plastic chairs.» Charles remarked, nodding and widening eyes at the umpteenth funny detail. «But the fact that it’s ridiculous makes it interesting.» «I can’t believe the only photo we have together has me eating in it.» you laughed. «We can always take new pictures.» As you felt Charles’ eyes on you, you immediately searched for them, locking stares, a bit surprised by his offer. «Charles, where are you?» someone shouted from outside. «We should go.» you awkwardly said. «Yep.» he immediately turned around on his feet, embarrassed as much as you were. # You hadn’t played table tennis a lot before, but being Charles’ teammate didn’t help increasing your winning chances. You miserably lost. «I couldn’t see anything, I had the sun in my eyes!» you tried to protest. «Your complaints are music to our ears.» «Guys, come on!» Charles pleaded in frustration towards his friends. «Nope, you promised before starting the match.» «I promised nothing, I wasn’t even there at the beginning!» you contested. «But you joined, so now you’re in this together.» You threw a desperate look at Charles, who simply covered his face with his hands and scoffed with a smile. «I think we don’t have a choice, y/n…» The idea of jumping in the water fully clothed and going around all wet until dinner made you uncomfortable and annoyed already, but you hadn’t time to ponder the dare further as Charles quickly splashed into the sea. Carefully getting close to the edge, you looked down the boat: you had never feared heights, however the blue expanse below you seemed an endless abyss, the yacht being far and far away from the coast. «Are you scared?» Charles’ friends asked, half-way amused and confused by your reticence. «Of course not.» you tried to play it cool. Charles, moving his arms to stay afloat, could read the hesitation blocking you. «I’ll catch you, don’t worry.» he shouted.

The impact with the water was softened by the waterfall of bubbles following your body and lifting you up towards the surface. Before you were able to notice, resurfacing, your body slid onto Charles’, who had swum next to the point you had fallen. The friction of your clothes brushing against each other seemed to slow you down in re-emerging: you clearly felt his skin caressing yours under the soft texture of his shirt, his fingers quickly searching for your body gliding on his. When you came to the surface, gasping for air, his hands were already firm around your waist, and you couldn’t tell if you were breathless out of effort, fear or because of the unexpected and sudden closeness with Charles' striking stare. «Are you okay?» he asked you with a husky tone. You knew he didn’t mean to do that, that probably his voice had dropped in order not to be heard – as if the rocking sound of the water wasn’t enough to hide your breaths – but his words, his presence, the unexpected intimacy of the moment made you crave to drown back down. The contrast between the warmth he radiated and the ice-cold water surrounding you dazed you, your head going in tilt. «Yeah, I’m good.» you frantically nodded, still holding tight on to him. «Let’s go, then.»

Charles’ friends had a trip planned out for the week following your adventures on the yacht in Sardinia, so they left; you and Charles, though, kept hanging out, going back to Monaco.

The days you had with him were pure fun, shading momentarily your uncertainties and doubts regarding your future in F1; and if not bright enough to put them aside, Charles was always receptive to your needs, willing to discuss them and listen, since you were both navigating the same environment. You hoped that spending time with him could help you, somehow. # «Is it that bad?» he inquired, unsure of his cooking skills. «No, it’s pretty good.» Charles tasted it and hummed in delight. «Finally! Something that doesn’t taste like death.»

A lazy movie night had suddenly turned into testing Charles’ abilities in the kitchen: he wanted to order some food, you joked he could cook instead, he took it as a challenge and he decided it was time to finally improve at it. You had teased him all along, questioning his choices, his measurements, the ingredients he was using… and you both laughed throughout the process, until you sat down with steaming dishes. Charles saw you slowly moving the fork around the plate. «Aren't you hungry?» he asked, snorting with a laugh. «Not... not really.» His amusement turned into a serious expression, surprised at your lifeless response after all the laughter you had shared just some minutes earlier. «Is everything okay?» he inquired, a veil of worry weighing upon his brows. «Yeah, I've just lost a bit of appetite because of the new diet I'm following.» You looked down as you spoke, and he noticed. As soon as the topic was brought to the table, Charles subtly clenched his jaw a bit, poked his inner cheek with the tongue, then parted his lips as if to say something. He refrained the words he was about to use, opting for some cautious ones. «I see. I know I’m not the one in charge of it and shouldn’t… interfere, but you're the lightest driver on the grid, y/n. I don't think that's needed to improve your performance.» «It's not just about the weight, I'm trying to work on my strength as well and I... I had to readjust my diet a bit.» «Fine.» he said, shaking his head. The lies adorning the truth made it feel like a whole bunch of bullshit: deep down, you knew you were going way too strict about it, that it was nobody’s but your idea, though you thought that was, indeed, the only way things would get better, the only way you would get better, the only way people could see the best in you. The only way to prove you were worthy. «I don’t know what the diet involves, but as a guest of mine, you have to taste once again the first decent dish I’ve cooked in a very long time and deeply enjoy it.» Charles rediscovered playful tone managed to pull out a shy smile from you. # You both agreed on working out together, to make it more fun - and consequently see each other more. There was an intimate complicity between the two of you, a murmured comfort in the moments you shared: smiles, fleeting exchanges of glances, jokes and laughter. Neither of you could describe it, but in each other's company your personalities matched, merged as one. The fear, the weight of expectations, the voices and malice of the people around you would lose meaning, set aside for as long as you could stare at one another.

«Here we are.» he announced, coming off the locker room. «So classy! » you laughed, pointing at Charles' shorts. «Stylish, right?» he said, looking at them and laughing as well. «Isn't your shirt too big?» «I like being comfy.» you simply said. «I see.» he kindly smiled.

Throughout the workout, you did a few circuits, alternating at machines, adding a bit of challenge and variety to what would’ve been a quite repetitive activity, if done alone. Charles had a lot of fun, enjoying your presence, peeking at you during some exercises and smiling to himself. «Time to stretch!» Andrea said. You cackled at Charles protesting pleads, while sitting on the floor. «Turn on your side and hold your knee, like this.» your coach instructed you. Charles, told to do the same, pointing his head toward your lying body. The oversized shirt you wore had risen a bit in the movement, revealing a portion of your skin and showing some ribs. Charles quickly tried to divert gaze, not wanting to be caught in contemplation, a bit flustered by it.

«We're done, guys! You can go change!» Andrea said, with a clap of hands. «It was fun.» Charles stated, searching for confirmation. «Yeah!» you replied, a bit taken aback by his sudden comment. «Maybe... We can do it more often, whenever we have the chance...?» You turned to face him before entering the female locker room and pulled a small smile. «Of course!» Charles grinned as well as he very slowly headed to the door next to yours. # You opened your bag, searching for your clean shirt, then took off the one you had on. You halted. Don't, you said to yourself. But you did; you gave in to the quick impulse of reaching the mirror of the room and checking yourself out. It seemed... fine. And the idea killed you, because it still wasn't enough, it still didn't help your performance, it still didn't look as good as you imagined it to.

You turned to take a look at your profile: sucking your stomach in, you pulled the skin above your bellybutton to make it even flatter, hands gripping under your bra, to see what you wanted to see, what others wanted to see, the unreachable goal you had been chasing for years, setting yourself up for failure. So skinny, and still not successful on track. So skinny, and still everyone despised you.

As you watched, tantalized, your ribs showing, both proud and disgusted of what you had achieved after years of obsessive discipline, you didn't notice a silhouette appearing in the reflection of the mirror. «Y/n.» You gasped. Facing the mirror once again, you avoided looking at him, vainly covering the sight with your arms. You tried to ignore it. «What are you doing?» But you couldn't: the fear he would start thinking lowly of you, that he could be ashamed of what you were doing froze your blood.

Charles had been eaten by self-doubt for a while, but had finally decided to ask you if you wanted to stay at his place until the end of the summer break, since he had been enjoying your company a ton; during the small walk from his locker room to yours, he had been rehearsing the words he needed to say in order not to freak you out or be rejected, so he definitely wasn’t paying attention while entering. He didn’t expect to be met with the sight of your almost bare chest; and above all, under the loose fire suit or a t-shirt, he had never imagined to see such a thin, small-waisted and fragile looking body. Charles got closer with caution as you stood still, walking with hesitance, not entirely sure of what the real situation concealed beneath its surface. But those ribs, the same he had clearly seen while you were stretching, were marked in his irises, fear and confusion taking over him. «Please, look at me.» he pleaded, soft. As those words left his mouth, your mask fell off, dragging tears with it, and Charles swallowed hard as a realization started to set in. «What's this, y/n?» he whispered, hoping you would tell him off, somehow, maybe reassuring him it was all a dream, prompting an explanation that he failed to find. But you cried hard and you couldn't offer any word of comfort. Charles engulfed you in a hug, feeling his heart race faster to follow the thread of his thoughts, eyes scattered around the room in search of answers, while his fingers caressed your hair through the weeping. «Why are you doing this to yourself?» Words died against your vocal folds before they could turn into sound. Your weeps were low, inaudible at times, desperate. «It’s not enough.» you breathed. A sting hit Charles’ chest. «I… I don’t know what to do… It’s never enough, Charles.» As your voice cracked, new tears fell down to fill your abyss. «Enough for what? Enough for who?» Holding your face upward, he awaited your answer. But you froze. What were you doing all of this for? If you knew it was wrong, if you felt it was wrong, then you certainly weren’t doing it for you. Was it for your team? To prove your effort, your dedication, to show that you cared about the sport above anything, above yourself as well? Was it for the press to notice you deserved that seat, that opportunity?

And then, finally, like lightning cutting through the air and reaching land, shattering your entire world, a realization struck: it had started way before entering F1. The sense of control, impulsive discipline, always aiming for unreachable perfection had been your self-destructive coping mechanism for your father’s loss. That promise you had made to yourself, to never disappoint him, never let him down, prove yourself worthy of the love he had given you broke before your eyes like glass. The oppressing fear of not being enough, of not repaying the immense sacrifices he had done for you, the idea of all his life being wasted to chase your dream had triggered the guilt you’d been living with for years.

Letting it all go against Charles’ shoulder, holding onto him like an anchor, scared of being suddenly left broken and alone in such a vulnerable moment only made his hug brace you with a firmer grip, hand caressing your hair. «It’s not your fault.» he whispered to your ear, like a lullaby. «Whatever it is, it wasn’t your fault.» Loosening the hold a bit in order to look at you, he softly wiped tears off your cheek. «We’ll solve it, I promise. You’ll never have to feel like this again or do this to yourself.» «I didn’t mean to do it.» you sobbed, shaking your head in denial. «It’s okay, y/n.» Charles pulled you back into the hug. «I’m not leaving you alone.»

You woke up early, tiredness deep inside your bones. The initial plan was to go back home and spend more time with your mom, but after the day at the gym Charles had insisted you to stop by and stay at his apartment for a little while. You had hated seeing him so heartbroken and gutted for you, since it wasn’t his responsibility to take care of you; still, he had said multiple times he wanted to help you out, that he had ways, that he knew people, proving with facts that he genuinely cared. You quickly got up from bed and headed to the kitchen to have a tasteless breakfast, bitter thoughts taking over as you opened the cabinet. The cliff of uncertainty had always been your environment since the beginning, but you had never felt so close to falling as you did in that moment. You had never been that high either, so it was only natural to be afraid of stumbling down in such a position.

Putting the moka pot onto the stove, you then walked towards the window, catching a glimpse of the waking world, a thin layer of fog hugging the skyline. Your phone vibrating onto the table distracted you from contemplating. Seeing a big “Mom” written on the screen didn’t surprise you. «Hi, mom.» you greeted, with a smile. «Hi, dear! How are you doing?» You lightly nodded to yourself. «Good, I’m relaxing a bit before the final rush.» Your mom simply hummed, leaving the end silent for a few seconds. You hadn’t told her why you had refused to come back home. It was true you had simply accepted Charles’ offer, but on the other hand you were quite relieved you didn’t have to fake calm and inner peace with your mom despite being in a stressful situation. «Y/n, how is it really going? You know you can tell me anything.» Her regretful tone urged you to provide reassurances. «It’s fine, why wouldn’t it be?» «I… I’ve heard about your seat being at risk and… I don’t like to be nosy and I know that you want to be the only one worrying and being responsible for everything, but I can’t help worrying, y/n. You and your father have worked so hard for this-» «It’s just rumors, mom, don’t worry about it.» you interrupted her. «I’ve talked with the team and they’ve reassured me about the renewal of the contract.» Lie. «Really?! And you didn’t tell me?!» she almost screamed in joy. «I wanted to wait a bit because… because there’s actually a bigger team interested and Nicholas is negotiating.» Lies. Nothing but lies. «Oh darling, I’m… I’m so happy for you. I was sure people would notice your talent! You deserve all of it! Oh, I’m so glad…» «Mom, there’s no need to cry…» you said, tears forming in your eyes as well. «Of course, right.» you heard her sniff. «But thinking of everything you and dad did back then and seeing where you are now… It makes me emotional, you know?.» «Mom…» you kindly scolded her. «Okay, I’ll stop! I have to go anyway, the shop is about to open.» «Love you, mom.» «Love you more! Bye, y/n!» As you hung up, words finally started to weigh down on you, sinking your heart like rocks. You had no reason to play with your mother’s feelings only to postpone a disappointment that you couldn’t avoid anyway.

When did you become so shamelessly cruel? Which sick part of you could only imagine Alfa Romeo was willing to renew your contract and at the same time another team was striving for having you on board next season? Not even your wildest fantasy could be that delusional. How many other people did you want to let down? Why did you keep setting impossible expectations and standards? Where did your hunger of perfection stem?

The thud of a mug being placed onto the table made you turn around. Charles had woken up to the sound of your voice and followed it toward the kitchen, unintentionally eavesdropping on the conversation, and he had tried not to interrupt or make himself noticeable. After hanging up, he saw your hand reaching your temples, and he knew right away how you were feeling. Because he had done the same exact thing with his father. He knew, better than anybody else. But at the same time, you knew as well: for once in his life, Charles didn’t feel alone in his regrets, in his doubts and struggles, and could relate to someone else’s experiences and fears. The tension between the two of you had always been an invisible string pulling you close, uncovered but present, binding lives that still had to unfold and show their similarities.

Taking a mug from the cabinet in order to make himself noticed, Charles had waited for you to stare at him. You didn’t know he had been there all along, but the truth was already emerging from his expression, sweetly scolding you, as he moved a few steps towards the stove. «You know you don’t need to protect her from everything, right?» Charles said, pouring some coffee for himself. «It seems like the only option, at the moment.» You got close and served some coffee for yourself as well. «It seems, but it never is.» Charles sighed, opening another cabinet. «Do you want biscuits?»

You turned your head while walking in fast-paced steps, trying to escape his grab. Your laugh sounded like heaven, punctuated with light rain drops sliding onto Charles' tanned skin. Running to reach you, he fell in love with every detail of the moment: the chase, the heart filling up of pure joy, your teasing steps, as you stopped to let him catch up a little, only to sprint again away from him.

With the sand becoming more compact under your feet thanks to the gentle rain, Charles was gaining pace advantage over you, until he finally managed to stop the hunt, gripping your wrist; you both almost fell as you halted, laughing uncontrollably and senseless. Your breaths were heavy, but through your smiling lips they came out as a rhythmed symphony, eyes locked, matching stares brimming with happiness. Charles' hands roamed onto your arms, while yours rested upon his chest. It felt pure, magical. Timeless. Charles was the first to break the silence, looking up to the grey clouds. «We should go home.» «Should we?» you asked, enchanted by the falling drops. «I really like it here.» I do too, Charles thought to himself. «We'll get ill, if we don't. But don't worry, I have an idea for when we come back home.» His words enlightened you. «Really? What is it?» «Follow me.» he said, taking your hand into his and locking fingers, while a smile lit his face.

Passing a hand through your damp hair, you eyed Charles entering the kitchen, away from your sight, so you decided to go change your clothes. Reponing the clothes back in the wardrobe right after, you saw Charles approaching, armed with two spoons, a can and a mischievous grin. «Is it ice-cream?» you asked, surprised. «How can it be a summer holiday without ice-cream?» «You’re right.» you smiled. Before you knew it, you were sitting upon your king-sized bed, crossed legs like two kids, bending over the can placed between the two of you. «Isn't it going to wet the comforter?» you asked. Charles hummed, in thought. «I'll keep it for us, then.» he said, grabbing it and taking off the lid. Without warning, he took the first spoon of it, leaving you speechless, but getting to taste Charles' smile while he watched your reaction. «Hey, bring it here!» you said, moving near with the spoon. Stuffing a mouthful of ice-cream, you were soon surprised by the flavor. «It's hazelnut.» you thought out loud. He grinned, looking down at the can like a little kid being caught red-handed, while he took another spoon of it. «You remember, right?» The sound of the rain falling down, you two sitting in front of the other, hazelnut ice-cream, lingering eyes. «I do.» Diving the spoon back again, you only took a few millimeters of ice-cream, observing it before quickly licking it away, in thought. And Charles noticed. «Don't you like it?» «It’s the best hazel-nut ice-cream I’ve ever tried, but… We shouldn't be eating so much of it.» «But today is cheat day.» he raised a brow, sure to win with a counterattack.

Since the night he had caught you staring at your fragile body and breaking down inside his arms, the wheel of change had been set into motion: Charles had promised to do anything to help you, and he kept up with the promise. You had dumped the coach who was supposed to follow and guide you and Andrea, Charles’ athletic trainer and dear friend, had suggested you a new one whom you had liked way better just at first glance. Without even realizing it, as you spent more and more time with Charles, you began opening up to him about it and started noticing thoughts patterns you were utterly oblivious to beforehand. His presence brought comfort, trust, support and clarity in your life, as much as fears regarding your future in F1 couldn’t be subsided completely. But Charles made life so easy. He could turn ice-cream on a rainy day into the most perfect and appealing way to spend time together. The idea he had thought through it, that he knew you’d be concerned about the diet and had chosen your cheat day on purpose so that you wouldn’t have to worry, so that you could both enjoy the moment, sparkled something inside of you, a kind gratefulness, a warm joy. You would’ve crawled closer to him, cuddled with him ‘til the daylight, either laughing or saying nothing, so that all your doubts would move away like rainy clouds. «You’re right.» you said, taking another small spoon of it. «Geez, it’s too good.» you complained, humming. Charles chuckled at your heartbroken expression, ice-cream melting in your mouth.

Spa never spared itself when it came to unpredictability. The few times you had raced there when you competed in minor formulas, chaos had taken over the results, crashes and crazy overtakes being the main characters of event-packed GPs.

The forecast had announced a small chance of rain throughout the weekend, pushing every team to choose a low downforce set up; indeed, in both free practices and qualifying only a few drizzles of rain sprayed the track, nothing crazy or unforeseen, and you had managed to earn a decent position to start at for the race. However, as you had learned over the years, Spa never ceased to amaze, playing the unexpected. # The rain falling down onto the dark asphalt, making your medium tires slide throughout lap twenty-four, after a lasting and on-going, strenuous defending against the DRS train which had formed behind you, felt like pure violence. «In sector two it's pouring.» you warned your engineer. «Copy.» «What's the forecast??» you encouraged, hoping to get them to consider the situation carefully. And get them to box, possibly. «It should rain for the next twenty minutes.»

Laps chalked up, wrapping around the tires, making them even more slippery, as every driver in front and behind you disappeared inside the pit lane and left you alone on the track, struggling with grip. «Can we box?» you asked, almost with a pleading tone. «Negative, we'd like to extend this stint.» How? Are they stupid? The tires were already quite worn out and in order to stay on track with the rain you were driving inevitably slower than everyone else, hence becoming prey of undercuts. «Guys, we're losing time! It's raining too much!» Unheard. Neglected. Nobody answered. You sighed, frustrated. «Thank you.» # The pale, yellow light of the panels installed around the track, reflecting through the thick layer of pouring water, struck Charles, who started gently braking, only to hear Xavi speak to him through the radio right after. «Safety car deployed, safety car deployed! Keep the delta positive.» Charles exhaled, relaxing a bit, as well as slowing down the car. «What happened?» he asked, more out of habit than really meaning it. As he carefully drove through Pouhon, his question was automatically answered: a car was smashed against the barriers, but he couldn’t even tell whose team the car was, due to the heavy rain. «Fuck, who is it?» Charles asked his engineer, thinking how bad the impact must have been, considering how fast that specific corner was. «I-it's y/n.» Charles didn't hear. His ears could suddenly capture the sound of the waterfall of rain crashing against the track, the engine and the power unit revving behind him, the cheers of the fans around the circuit. A piercing fear rummaged inside his bones, his stomach, crawling up his heart and clenching it, unable to process the information. Not in Spa. Anywhere, but there. Anyone, but you.

«Is she okay? Did she get out? Is she hurt?» «I will let you know.» his engineer answered, as calm as he could possibly be. Charles urgently pressed the radio button once again. «No, Xavi, I need to know! Please.» «Copy, she's still in the car.» «Is there any team radio or...?» «Not at the moment, but I'll keep you updated.»

Charles stared intently at the red lights of the cars in front appearing and disappearing before his eyes through the rain. He wanted to disconnect his brain, to forget everything, to focus on the race; but there was no way he could. # «Are you okay?» your engineer said, crackled. Breathing in and out your mouth, heavy, tired, full of fear, you looked around you, unable to see anything due to the rain. You pressed the radio button to answer, but you noticed the small activating light didn't lit up in the process. The radio was gone. Still breathing erratically, you bursted out crying. Unheard. Why did they leave you on slicks, aware of the danger? Neglected. The umpteenth race thrown to the wind, when you were fighting for good and well-deserved points. Frustrated. Your cries ricocheted inside your helmet, hoping someone would hear you, hoping someone would care, hoping efforts could be rewarded, sooner or later. # «She's out of the car, she seems to be okay.» «Was she still on inters?» Charles asked his engineer, as he drove into the pitlane after the race had been red flagged. «No, she was on mediums.» Mechanics placing a gazebo upon the car to shelter him from the rain, Charles reasoned Xavi’s words, trying to make sense of them. Everyone had stopped to put intermediate tires and, right before the safety car’s deployment, a lot of drivers already had boxed for full wets. How could she possibly drive on slicks with those conditions? What sick strategy was that? No, it could only be a joke. «Mediums? Are you sure?» Charles double-checked, hoping his engineer had got confused. «Yes, y/n hasn’t pitted since the race start.» Charles’ chest filled up with a wave of rage and deep frustration, so strong he thought he wouldn’t be able to control himself and would get out the cockpit, running towards Alfa Romeo’s garage in order to ask them what their plan was, if it was an attempt to kill you or if they were fucking blind and couldn’t see the track’s conditions. He couldn’t bear it at all; not after what had happened in Spa’s rainy days, not after losing already two of his friends on track. And Charles, while drops of rain were hitting the gazebo, indifferent to the mechanics’ movement around the car, sitting still with a downpour of feelings sliding off his hands, couldn’t even process that he had just risked losing you as well. ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ The fresh smell of grass and soil itched your nose, sharp and nauseous, fueling the tears gathering above your waterline. The sun was hidden behind the soft veil of clouds, casting a feeble light on the field. A valley of grey marbles cut open new wounds. Staring at it, you recalled your mother asking you to choose a picture you liked, but you immediately regretted seeing it plastered upon the grave: the happy memory behind it would've been forever merged with mourning, grief. Death.

Birds chirped from high above a tree, drowning out your mother's weeps. How do I keep them quiet?, you wondered. How to fade out the inner noise, the chaos, the pain flowing out of your eyes? You walked out. Indifferent to the eyes pointing at you, indifferent to your mom crying louder, indifferent to her sorrow, you marched towards the gate out of Hell. How were you supposed to watch your father being buried? Your dad, the one who taught you how to walk, how to race, how to love? How could you do that? How did people cope with it? How did your mother keep her composure, holding the handkerchief close to her nose so that no feeling would run out? How didn't she scream from the bottom of her lungs, losing her voice, scratching her skin with the nails, tugging at her hair while doing so? Why was everyone seamlessly indifferent to him? Why did everyone stand his death like anything normal, a simple news to be heard and forgotten? Did anyone but you love him at all? How come you were the only one devastated by it? Why did it amplify, ricocheting inside your soul, doubling, growing stronger and more unbearable?

Birds answered your sobs with a graceful melody, as a sudden ray of sun reached your shaking shoulder. ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ You managed to hold your tears before the cameras, pride poking your eyes. You wouldn't give in to provocations and feed the journalists with whatever they were trying to gain from you; Charles had told you a bit about his own press experiences, he had advised you and you had agreed with each of his reflections, hence followed his suggestion. You were stronger than that, and that was something you had learned from him: he had shown and proved it to you, how you didn’t need other’s approval and validation but your own.

Still, on the verge of falling down like glass and helplessly breaking in thousands of pieces, held back by anxiety and fear, you frantically looked left and right at the media pen in search of one person only. You had waited for him until the end of the race, your assistant long gone after your interviews, but you had felt incapable of facing the pouring rain and the walk of shame twice.

You had tried to enjoy the race from a small screen inside the pen but, to pretty much everyone’s dismay, Charles had been forced out of the track after the restart caused by your crash and had ended the race tenth after running third all along. It wasn’t fair.

As soon as he stormed inside the interviews’ area, Charles halted his steps abruptly at your sight, almost about to leave the journalists hanging and bring you far away from worries and guilt. His assistant’s hand, though, reluctantly convinced him to first get done with his duties, but not without throwing a last glance at you, who still hadn’t noticed him and were searching for his appearance. Once you did, you never lost sight of him, holding onto his frustrated body language, his shrugs full of disappointment. And then it came sudden. His hurried steps, his pained eyes, the pair of arms skillfully grabbing your waist, anchoring light, firm but not too tight: it made your world crumble and shatter once for all.

You both stayed silent, as tears reached your twitching chin and Charles wetted his lips, frowning, frustration visible through his tensed features. In a matter of seconds, he was already holding your hand, guiding you far away from the chaos, dragging you out of the suffocating atmosphere. # Charles flung his room’s door open and left your hand in order to lock it. Founding yourself in a safe place, alone, you sobbed louder, letting your brows clash upward, face crumpling. As he turned and saw you, a pang to his chest, he waited for you to crush inside his embrace. What can I do?, he asked himself. What was there to say? How could he erase mistakes from the script of your life, of his own? How could he make it beautiful and happy so that no tears, no sorrow had to be shed inside your souls? «I gave everything.» you cried. «I know.» Charles said to himself, caressing your cheek. You drank in his touch, thirsty for love, but those words didn’t empty the box of sadness trapped beneath your chest. It didn't feel enough to you. «I gave everything for this, Charles.» you tried to say, voice cracking. «I…» At the sudden thought of your father, you stopped talking and cried harder, filling a deafening silence. «I know.» Charles struggled to prevent his thoughts and breaths from running, so he tried to point all his attention upon you; putting strands of hair back in place, wiping tears away, keeping your face upward and fighting against its natural tendency to drop down. But the more he looked at you, the more his own thresholds were being knocked over. «My father...» you bit your lip. «No, it's okay, y/n.» Charles immediately pulled you back into a hug. «It's okay, don't think about it.» He couldn't listen to it. He couldn't bear hearing from you to the thoughts he was trying to subside in his own mind. Every word was a stab, a crack through the wall, willing to create a breach. However, you couldn’t surrender and suffocate in his hold everything you needed to say, so you rebelled and loosened the grip. «It's not fair.» «Y/n...» he almost pleaded. «I don't deserve it. You don't deserve it, Charles! You...» you sniffed and sobbed before proceeding. «You are worth so much more than that.» You saw his irises wavering. Then, finally, a lonely tear slowly began travelling towards the side of his nose, nestling onto his skin. «I don't know what to say.» In the way his voice dropped and trembled, you knew that was the last straw.

You sat onto the couch, both at the same time, with slow movements, hands cupping each other’s faces. You were so close you couldn't tell whether the tears falling onto the leathered couch were his or yours; there was something intrinsically intimate and desperate in crying that close, in receiving each other's sobs, foreheads touching, noses brushing. There was nothing else to be said, words wouldn’t fulfill the purpose: a stronger bond, a deeper sharing replaced unsatisfying talking. Crying had never tasted so sweet and purifying. You didn't simply feel understood: you felt felt. It was two bodies and one soul, one shared fate. And as one, you both leaned in, lips connecting softly. As everything in your life, joy had chosen its place to spring amidst the storm, nurtured by the rain falling down, lacing sorrow and tears. «I love you.» Charles said. «I love you.» you said back, still crying. «I love, y/n.» Charles breathed, leaving a kiss onto the corner of your mouth. «I love you...» he kept repeating, as a prayer, peppering kisses all over your face and then sealing his words onto your lips once more, hands holding your face as the dearest and most fragile flower of the world. «I love you so much.» you whispered. A smile crossed his face broken by sadness and mended it, like trails of gold gluing splinters of a vase.

«We shouldn't do it here.» you said, breathless. Charles leaned in and stole another kiss from your lips, which you were completely unable to resist, hands unconsciously pulling him even closer. As he broke the contact painstakingly slowly, about to smirk, Charles stopped only a few centimeters away from your face. «Sure? You seem to like it.» You jokingly patted his shoulder as you both smiled at each other, getting your bodies the farthest they had been in ten minutes. Sat upon a chest of drawers belonging to Charles’ preparation room, you stared at him, tracing with the sight his perfect features, the fireproof shirt draping him and clinging onto his skin, fingers playing with his bracelets, while you twisted the charm of the necklace he had gifted you, and you then gazed at his rosy lips, so bright and tempting. He joined your hand and caressed the charm, only to close the gap between you two once again.

You had never made out with anyone so sweetly, so tenderly, going at a gentle pace, careful of vulnerabilities and wounds, lust being replaced by a soft yearning. A bloom of butterflies spread all over your body whenever Charles' hands unexpectedly moved, making you discover angles of skin you didn't even know you had, seeking refuge in the comforting warmth of his kisses. «We need to go...» you tried to dissuade him after he began leaving quick pecks from the corner of your mouth down to your neck. «Just five more minutes.» he moaned, still caught in his tantalizing kisses. «My mom is waiting for me, Charles...» you laughed. «Mine is too.» he briefly replied, without letting his lips stray from your skin. «Another reason to go greet them.» Charles looked at you, inhaling as to refrain from kissing you again. «Fine.» he sighed. «Let's go. I also have a gift for you.» «Really?» Charles wiped your cheek as your whole face lit in joy. «Yes. But let's get out of here quickly, please.» he pleaded, smiling. # «There you are!» your mom exclaimed, gesturing towards you and Charles walking in, a shy smile as you stood a little bit too close to him. «I thought you had forgotten about us.» Pascale teased, following with the sight his son, who reached a bag abandoned on the floor and approached the three of you once again. «Early Christmas!» Charles handed a package to your mom, who opened her eyes wide, one to Pascale and, lastly, one to you. «That’s so nice of you! Can I open it??» your mom asked, thrilled. «Sure!» Charles smiled. You watched her unwrapping the paper with excitement, gaping as soon as she recognized the jacket your father wore in the photograph she was holding. «When did you take this picture?» Pascale joyfully asked, staring at the same framed photo your mom had. «Must’ve been a long time ago.» your mom said, smiling, but voice low. «Thank you so very much, Charles!» «It was y/n’s idea to print a copy for you.» he added, willing to point out the thoughtfulness was all yours. Blushing a bit, you looked up at him, fluttered. «C’mon, open yours.» Charles gently encouraged you, speaking in a lower tone. But there was no surprise: it was, indeed, the cut-out picture you had talked about, with you two only. You had expected it to be funny, a photo you two would laugh at; however, as Charles’ hand joined yours in holding the frame and stared at the picture with you, out of the blue you sensed a soft and delicate aura you hadn’t perceived the first time, as if Arthur had caught you in an intimate moment no one should’ve seen or disturbed, inside a bubble of innocence and sweetness.

Pascale and your mother felt the same way looking at you two being lost in gaze, both holding the frame, so close to each other, and smiling like two idiots. «Can we see it?» Pascale asked after an awkwardly long silence. The spell being broken, you both tilted your head up at the question. «Of course!» you stuttered, handing it over. Your mom couldn’t help but flip her eyes between you and Charles, searching for the invisible string tying the two of you. «Who would’ve thought you would meet again…» Pascale commented, handing the frame back to you. Those words warmed Charles’ heart up, as memories of the last months played in his head: it was more than simply meeting again. It was bonding, connecting on a deeper level without really knowing why, the same way you had done that rainy day; taking care of each other, supporting through hardships and enjoying little, special moments together. It didn’t feel real. And deep down, recalling his feelings on that first time you met, he had known something was different about you from the beginning. He definitely hadn’t seen the beautiful ending coming, both falling in love with each other. But he loved every second of it. # As you walked back to the hotel in your mother’s company, she looked back at the pictures Charles had given you. «You seem really happy, y/n.» A bit taken aback by the statement, you glanced at her, trying to read into her words. «I am.» you smiled, genuinely content. «Is it because of Charles?» she asked. You diverted the gaze, pressing your lips together in an attempt to hide the grin that was about to light up your face. You had never felt so comfortable around anyone, protected by the harshness of the sport, free to be yourself, loving and loved. It didn’t feel real. For the first time in years, your mother didn’t fear leaving you deal alone with your life in the majority of your trips all over the world: she didn’t have to silently check over and worry about your health, both physical and mental, because she clearly saw happiness written inside your eyes, and she had acknowledged you weren’t alone. «Maybe.» you rushed, with a mischievous grin, shrugging your shoulders. «Does he make you feel good?» At the question, your father immediately came to mind: you overlayed the feelings you had from happy memories in his company with some of the ones you’d had with Charles, and a suffused bliss permeated the both of them, almost blurring into each other. You smiled, joyfully nostalgic. «Yes, he does.»

When you received the call on Saturday evening, the bubble of happiness you had been trying to live in for a while plopped before your eyes. In silence, staring at the void, you replayed Bravi’s words in your head over and over again, in search of the deeper meaning hidden beyond those. Talking about the contract the day before a race, and not any, but Monza, which was pretty much home for the team, put you on the edge more than it would’ve normally. It must be serious, you thought.

Exiting the hotel, you saw Charles still caught signing and spending time with fans after the stellar pole position he had taken in the afternoon; you tried not to get noticed, which you managed to do successfully, and sneaked out heading to the track. # «Hi, y/n. Please, sit down.» You never stopped looking at him, watching every movement, fathoming the desk for signals and signs onto eventual sheets of paper that offered clues. «There’s a race tomorrow.» «I know. What about it?» he asked, baffled. You deeply inhaled. «You shouldn’t make huge decisions before a race, since it could affect the results of it.» «Do you think I would do that if I knew it could deny us the chance to confirm the P5 you conquered in qualifying today?» «I don’t know.» you shrugged. Bravi backed down onto the chair and reached a drawer, picking up a folder from it and placing it in front of you. «Audi is scoping the surroundings to find drivers suitable for the team and have them experienced and ready for its debut in the 2026 season. As you can imagine, it’s hard to sign contracts with drivers who are still under other teams and whose futures are still uncertain, so… they decided to take a look inside their own garden and, apart from the mistakes you’ve done due to inexperience, they were pleasantly impressed by your performance as a rookie.» Gently smiling at your loss of words, Alessandro kept talking. «They would offer a three-years contract, so that you would be part of the team throughout the transition to Audi as well and would be driving, of course, in 2026. To be fair, the contract looks more like a 1+2, since they still need to evaluate you next year… But it’s an incredible offer nonetheless, y/n.» He moved the folder towards you with his fingertips. «You can examine the contract with Todt, but please note that you have two weeks to either sign or refuse the offer.» Here it was. The passport to your dreams, the chance of your life being renewed in ways you had never even dared to imagine. What had you done to deserve it? You stopped that trail of thoughts immediately: you had worked so hard, you had been on the edge for months, reaping success but failures as well, partly dictated by the stress of the situation you found yourself in. Still, you had learned from it, you had improved, and everybody knew it, Audi knew it. It was time to let go of doubts, to judge and see yourself the same way others did, without dwelling on the negatives. What did you need to do in order to prove you deserved it? How could you turn that news into grateful motivation? There was only one answer. «We’ll have it.» you said. «We’ll have that P5.» # «Good morn- fuck, it’s 9.20.» Charles growled, one hand still wrapped around your waist, the other one checking the time on his phone. «Good morning to you too.» you chirped, turning around to face him and greet him with a quick peck on the lips. You saw Charles slightly frowning with a smile. «You seem really happy.» «I am.» you admitted, looking down. Adjusting a strand of your hair, he took the opportunity to lean in and kiss you; then, tender, he brushed the tips of your noses in a slowly intimate awakening gesture. «Is it for the race?» he asked. You raised your eyes up, in thought, then shook your head with a pout. «Is it… because of me?» Charles smirked before bursting in a loud laugh, downplaying his own suggestion. «Partly.» you answered, coquettish. «Then what is it?» he asked, wrapping his arms around your body and bringing it closer to him, still grinning. You diverted your gaze, smiling both at the thought of Audi’s offer and Charles’ curiosity. «I can’t tell you yet.» Disappointed but playful, Charles gently loosened his hold on you. «Why not?» «It’s not official.» you giggled.

He studied your expression with challenging eyes, then suddenly got on top of you, placing his hands at the sides of your head, so that you were trapped down between his detective stare and the pillow. «So, now… What’s this unofficial thing that’s making you so giggly and happy?» «Charles, I haven’t even talked with Nicholas about it…» As he widened his eyes in surprise, only in that moment, you realized you had just slipped up mentioning you two’s manager. «Did Alfa renew you??» Charles urged, now more serious. «Kind of.» you replied, nonchalant. «Audi offered me a three-years contract. But, you know, they still have the chance to drop me at the end of next year, so…» «And did you sign?» Charles asked. «No, as I told you I still need to read the contract and evaluate it. But let’s be real, I don’t think I’m getting a better offer in two weeks…» you laughed. «I still can’t believe they’ve chosen me.» «They did it because you deserve it. You’re talented, hard-working and you managed to achieve results the team hasn’t seen in years.» he said. «Also, despite some stupid journalists, fans support you and love you because they can see how much passion you put into driving, and everybody knows you are so…» «So?» you waited for him to end the sentence. «… Lovable.» «This doesn’t seem like a very technical comment, Mr Leclerc.» you laughed, patting his chest. «Was I supposed to be technical?» he asked, slowly bending down to slowly press his lips at the base of your jaw, right under the ear. «No, you weren’t, but still.» you said, caressing his hair as he pulled away.

He took a few seconds to stare at you, trying to read your expression. «Does it add pressure for today’s race?» he asked, his tone low, gentle, almost careful. «No.» you answered, lost in thought. «They made the offer before today’s results, so that just motivates me even more for the race.» «I’m so happy for you.» he added with a smile, getting close to give you a proper kiss. «And for us.» Confused, you raised a brow as he settled back to your side. «Waking up with you before free practice, warming up together ahead of qualifying… Making out to get ready for the race…» As he ended the list smugly, you pat his shoulder, earning his heaven laughter. «Travelling the world with you and sharing the passion that brought us together. Doing life with you, going at the same pace. Quite literally.» At the pun, you couldn’t help but cackle. «Don’t laugh, you’re quick with that little Alfa.» he pointed out. «Little Alfa? Are we so insignificant to you?» you joked, still laughing. «Of course not.»

You laid facing yourselves, both your pair of hands brushing, tracing with featherlike weight each other’s features, insatiable of touching, of closeness, of intimacy. No words were needed: silence was enough for you to communicate and bond, while everything else cluttered a background you didn’t even pay attention to. You had never experienced anything like it, and it was the best feeling you’d ever had. «Should we get up?» you whispered, scared to break the dreamy atmosphere. «We still have a bit of time.» Charles said, caressing your forearm. «Okay.» you smiled, completely content with cuddling in bed for a little bit more. «Okay.» he murmured. # «Safety car in this lap, y/n.» «Copy.» Waving on the straight before the Parabolica in order to put your front tires into temperature, you mentally assessed the situation. Rolling start. Four laps ‘til the end. Still P5.

You’d been extremely lucky the safety car had been deployed: you had stopped to put hard tires quite early in the race and your rear had been slipping for the last couple of laps, facilitating the comeback of Russel, who had been behind you all along, but at a safe distance. Among the sea of information your engineer had provided, one thought prevailed: let’s bring it home. # Smoke. All you were able to see was a whitish cloud of burned rubber, which entered your nostrils and made you inhale the smell of fear, danger but, most importantly, of victory. You quickly realized Perez had suffered a huge lock up braking towards turn 1: he ended up into Carlos’ rear, which caused the Spaniard to strike Verstappen as well, who was taking the outer side of the chicane to oppose Charles at the inside. An absolute carnage you didn’t expect, and that you managed to avoid.

Driving through Curva Grande, you checked your mirrors waiting for one of those cars to appear once again, to no avail. «Russel behind, at 1.5» your engineer warned. «What about the mess in turn one?» you asked, breathing heavily. «They are in the middle of the group, but they all have damage, so they’re either stopping or retiring. No need to worry about them.» «No red flag?» you questioned, scared of how big the risk would be for you if another restart was needed. «No, they managed to keep going, it’s okay.» your engineer tried to reassure you. But you couldn’t believe it. Charles’ car was ahead of you, leading the race, and you followed pretty close, despite clearly not having the same pace as the Ferrari did, in second place. # Time had taught Charles there were different tastes of happiness. To be fair, the one he had tried the most had the pinch of bitterness and loss in it, a much-demanded karmic price but probably not a sufficient reward for suffering. Whenever sadness laced joy, tangling its dark tails around the golden rush, feelings doubled and echoed louder inside Charles’ chest, a nostalgic symphony resonating all over, marking memories with the indelible sign, every time. But not that day.

He crossed the finish line waving in delight to celebrate his win in Monza, fans roaring strong enough to rock the world, a rude red awakening of passion. It felt right, deserved, earned: shared with the explosive energy of Tifosi. And shared with you.

Looking in his mirrors and seeing your Alfa made his beating heart swell in excitement and thrill, unable to fully process what was happening. Charles, being himself, would’ve loved fighting on track for the lead, in Monza, but he knew as well that his pace advantage was unfair and such a fantasy was unrealistic. Though, through the lap of honor, waving at the grandstands, he frantically searched for your car and slowed down in order to proceed side by side, grinning with his whole eyes, raising a thumb towards you with might. It felt like happiness lacing happiness, gold upon gold, far from being sickening, burning brighter than the sun.

Down the pitlane, he got out, standing on the nose of the car, throwing a fist to the sky as a loud roar followed his gesture in cheer. He ran, faster than he could, and threw himself inside the mechanics’ embrace and pats, sharing the rush and the adrenaline after achieving the dream win. His name, like a chant, echoed through the crowd, numbing his senses and unlocking the secret drawer of emotions to open and overflow, pour down as warm rain nurturing the soil of his heart. «Charles, here! Please, Charles!» the photographers asked for his attention. In vain. He had turned his head behind, searching for you, and he had found you: still sitting inside the cockpit, visor opened, hands reaching your eyes. It took nothing else for his feet to carry him next to you and lean down, touching your shoulder with love, and he smiled. You were shedding tears of happiness. «Congratulations for your first podium. You were amazing.» he tried to let you know through the helmet. You stared at him, incapable of speaking. You wanted to congratulate him as well, you needed to express your love and affection and pride so much, yet felt speechless. So, instead of talking, you started unfastening your helmet, and Charles involuntarily mirrored your movements. And as your balaclava freed your hair from its protection and you stood up gripping the halo with one hand, you did the only thing you were able to do: you pulled Charles close into a kiss. Your intention was for it to be quick, a simple and fast peck placed onto his lips in sign of gratitude; though, you didn’t feel surprised as you felt his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you up, deepening a kiss which was meant to be brief.

You both didn’t pay attention to the loud whistles, you were too lost into each other’s embrace; foreheads tenderly touching, rosy cheeks after an intense race, you two couldn’t help but grin, catching breaths. «I love you.» you whispered. «I love you more.» he replied, not as whispered, almost aiming to be heard, willing to let the entire world know. And he showed. Offering his hand to help you get out the cockpit, after you had just put down your feet to the ground, adrenaline still running high, Charles lifted you off bride-style and twirled around, both giggling. Wiping off a tear and chuckling at the same time, you held your arms around his neck when Charles reached the interviews’ area and brought you back down.

Russel was still ecstatic and thrilled narrating his race while you and Charles faced each other, silently exchanging affectionate stares and speaking a few words. «I’m so happy for you, gosh… You won, Charles!» you said, unable to contain excitement. «It was hard, but it feels so good.» he exhaled, shutting his eyes in a tired and relieved motion. «And you don’t even know how special it is to share this win with you on the podium as well.» he added, caressing your cheek.

Up from your podium step, the sea of people flooding the track, the flags, the giant prancing horse pulsing in front of you was the scenery of a movie playing all years as a ritual, but you felt like it was the first time ever seeing it: the afternoons spent on the couch watching F1 with your father suddenly disappeared, leaving room for astonishment and the childish curiosity of toddlers before the amazing simplicity of the things. Once you were handed the cup, feeling everybody’s eyes on you, especially Charles’ next to you, you raised the trophy to the sky, the crowd cheering for you. Among the choir of chants, voices, screaming Charles’ name, in that ocean of faces, in the clouds above the track, everything reminded you of your dad, and you could hear him cheering in joy for you.

Champagne already flying up in the air and drenching confetti falling down, Charles knew exactly what you were thinking as soon as he caught you scanning your surroundings, a bit lost in the overflowing feelings. He raised the champagne bottle forward, waiting for yours to join in a celebration toast. Off guard, Charles started spraying champagne all over you, engaging in an endless war nobody could enter or halt, no chance to interfere or dissuade you. You had your secret motives to celebrate; and you would both keep dancing under liquid gold until your arms got tired of holding, until your eyes got tired of staring, until your lips got tired of kissing. Until your hearts got tired of loving.

I'm really sorry if there are typos or mistakes, but it was really hard to revise such a long fic. Hope you'll be understanding 🥺 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! ♥ I’D REALLY APPRECIATE IT IF YOU LEFT A NOTE FOR FEEDBACK, SO THANKS IF YOU DO! HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY! . · ˚✧

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