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lovelytsunoda · 6 months

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954 // logan sargeant

summary: florida man fucks shy college girl. or, back home in fort lauderdale y/n’s welcome home party is sabotaged by her race winner brother, and it gives her a bit of a complex. at least her brothers best friend is there to make her feel better about it.

pairing: logan sargeant x female kirkwood! reader

warnings: straight up smut, kyle kirkwood is a lot to handle in large doses (but we love him anyways), feelings of anxiety, minor sibling rivalry, body image issues. i am going to hell, littered with spelling mistakes because of how fast I was typing and pure laziness to go back and fix it

author's note: 954 is the area code for fort lauderdale. and technically kyle kirkwood lives in jupiter, but for the sake of the story let's pretend he's also from lauderdale.

she sat at the edge of the pier, jeans rolled up past her shins as she started off into the horizon, watching the sun dip below the ocean line.

“it’s your party, what are you doing out here alone?”

she rolled her eyes, pulling her feet out of the water before following the voice. “why do you think? kyle hijacked it. I’m back home for less than a day and he’s already stealing the spotlight again.”

that was the way it always went in the kirkwood household: y/n came home from school, and everything was great, and then kyle waltzes in and suddenly everything is about him again.

logan shook his head, settling onto the pier next to her, a gentle hand resting on her thigh. she shrugged it off, anxiously twisting one of the rings on her hand.

“you know he doesn’t do it on purpose, right?” logan soothed “he loves you, and he hates that you feel like this.”

“i know. the inferiority complex is all me.”

“it’s not a complex, and your feelings are valid.”

she shook her head. “everyone tells me i shouldn’t have quit karting. even when it made me hate myself.”

she sighed, laying down on the pier, worn wood scratching at her skin, but not splintering against her baby pink tank top. “what am I doing with my life, logan?”

“hey, look at me.” logan encouraged, fingertips against her chin to angle her face towards him. “you are doing great things. deans list every semester, you’re a great artist and I’d be shocked if firms weren’t lining up to hire you as a litigator.”

“you’re just saying that.” she refused to meet his eyes. logan was kyles best friend, for god sakes. she’d crumble under his stare, his touch.

“but I’m not.” logan insisted, gripping her face now, making her look at him. she needed to know how wonderful she was, and he was going to be the one to tel her. “you are smart and funny and all kinds of wonderful, kirkwood. any guy would be lucky to have you, and anyone else should consider themselves blessed to have you as a friend.”

“you really mean that?”

“why would I lie to you, y/n?”

she barely had time to respond before logans lips were on hers. she was hesitant at first, unsure if logan really knew what he was doing. unsure if he was really kissing her because he wanted to or because he pitied her.

the intrusive thoughts didn’t stay long, however, as she snapped to attention and moved her lips against his, wrapping her body around his.

“jesus.” logan breathed. “those jeans make your ass look incredible. well, your ass always looks incredible, but these jeans are really doing it for me.”

she laughed at how red logan's face was, a shade that looked more salmon under the sunset. the pier was digging into her skin, and she was starting to get uncomfortable, logan's lips along her neck not quite enough to distract from the discomfort of what she was sure would become a splinter if their activities were not relocated.

somehow they made it to her bedroom without being discovered by the partygoers, much less kyle. the fairy lights tacked to her dusty pink walls were the only light in the room as logan backed her up against her bookshelf, securely caging her body against his.

she felt safe in logan's arms. protected.

"i've been crazy about you for years now." logan growled in between kisses. "every night i came over to watch panthers games with your brother, and you were there in those tight little jean shorts, laughing and giggling with your friends. or when i'd stay the night and you'd walk past his bedroom door to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night, your skimpy silk top falling down your shoulder just enough to give me a taste of your gorgeous body. do you know how many times i've jerked off to the thought of you in kyle's bathroom? you're stunning, y/n. don't let anybody tell you otherwise."

her mind was reeling, and she couldn't find the proper words as she tugged at the collar of logan's button down shirt, pressing her lips back to his. logan sargeant was interested in her.

logan saw her for her, not just as kyle kirkwood's baby sister.

clothes were shed, buttons ripped off shirts. her head was spinning, elated and giddy and she couldn't find the words to tell logan how incredible she felt as his large hands squeezed her breasts over the mesh padding of her bralette.

she gasped, logan taking that chance to slip his tongue into her mouth, his fingers grappling for the clasp on her bra.

all at once, reality came crashing back down on her. she pulled away, hands flying up to cover her exposed breasts as the pale fabric tumbled to the hardwood floor.

she wouldn't meet logan's eyes, scared to know what he thought of her naked body. scared to see him stare at her and not know what he was thinking.

his eyes softened, the lust drawing back as concern seeped in to his irises. "y/n, pretty girl, you don't need to hide yourself around me. who made you think that you weren't sexy as all hell? i never want you feel like you have to be shy around me."

he gently gripped her arms, guiding her towards the wall length mirror hanging on the back of the ensuite door. logan stood behind her, lifting her chin so that she would meet his eyes in the mirror. placing his hands over hers, he gently pulled her palms off her breasts, exposing her bare torso to the soft lighting in the room.

"look at you beautiful you are, y/n. i'm serious."

"you're just saying that so you can get your dick wet." even as she said it, she knew it didn't sound like she meant it.

but even still, staring at herself in the mirror, all she could focus on was the way that she looked: the stretch marks on her breasts, the smattering of freckles up her arms (or were they moles, like the two on her back?).

"what will it take to show you how sexy you are, y/n?" logan rasped, undoing the button on her jeans. "should i make you watch yourself as i touch you?"

"yeah." her voice was shaky. "i think you should show me how sexy i am. clearly, i need reminding." where was this sudden boldness coming from?

"that;s my sexy, shy girl." logan cooed, tugging her jeans down her legs, kissing over her ass and down her leg before coming back up, eyes hungry at the sight of the young woman in front of him, panties hiked high on her hips and fairly see through as he slipped a hand over teh fabric and between her legs, teasing at the dampness beginning to form.

she gasped as logan slicked up his fingers, slipping them inside of her in one swift movement, working around the fabric of her cheeky panties. she was breathing hard, biting her bottom lip as she took in the sight in the mirror: logan's fingers flexing in and out of her, arousal running over his pale skin, his face contorted in concentration as he growled down her ear, telling her how tight she felt, and how good she was for him.

her own skin was rosy and flushed, a sheen of sweat beginning ro form as she felt her body heating up. there was something sinful about watching herself in the mirror, finally allowing herself to let loose a moan.

"that's my girl. don't get shy on me now, i want to know that you feel as good as i do." logan groaned, sucking on her neck. "touch me, baby. i know you want to. feel how fucking hard i am for you."

she loosened her grip on logan's wrist, internally grinning at the nail marks that she left behind in his skin before slipping an arm behind her, cupping his bulge in her hand.

she was floored. she knew logan was big (she could always see the outline in his swim shorts, forcing herself to stop staring before he noticed) but knowing that she had this effect on him?

it was a powerful thing.

"jesus, logan." she whined. "i need it inside of me."

logan's eyes sparkled. "what do you need inside of you, sweetheart? i need you to say it for me." he started pumping his fingers faster, his other hand moving to fondle her left breast, tweaking the rosy bud of her nipple between his fingers.

she sighed heavily, feeling her legs turn mushy as she leaned back against logan. "need your cock." she mumbled, unsure if she could speak any louder.

"what was that, darling? don't be shy now, i can't give you what you need if you don't tell me, love."

fuck you, she thought, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. she was clenching around his fingers now, unsure of hoe much longer she'd be able to last. but she needed him inside of her, felt like she might die if he wasn't.

"your cock!" she shouted. "please, logan, i need your big cock inside me, please, god, i need it."

why did she say that? she should never have said that. it made her sound desperate. but in a way, she was desperate, wasn't she?

logans fingers stopped their ministrations, pulling out of her and taking a trail of her juices with them. she thought her eyes were going to roll back in her head before logan laid her down on her queen bed, her hair fanning out behind her as he started to undo his jeans, resort shirt still hanging off his frame, face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat as he licked her arousal off his fingers.

"do you have condoms, kirkwood? because i really don't want to have to go digging for them in kyle's room."

"please don't talk about my brother when i want you to fuck my brains out."

logan smirked. "not so shy now, are we, my sexy girl."

"shut up! go the ensuite, top vanity drawer on the left. you literally cannot miss the box."

she could have laughed, lying back on the bed and kicking off her panties as logan ran, half naked and dropping his resort shirt behind him, to the ensuite.

he stumbled back, tripping over discarded clothes and the fluffy carpet, triumphantly holding the box above his head.

"the whole box? how much do you think you're getting tonight, sarge?"

logan raised an eyebrow. "call me that, and i'm going to make you forget how shy you are and have you scream my name all night long."

#logan sargeant x reader #formula one x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #logan sargeant smut

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halfvalid · 7 months

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the blade daughter, pt. 2

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8k this part

description: after joining the straw hats on board the going merry, you're confused as to what to do with your life from now—and you can't help but get closer to zoro.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, patching of wounds

author’s note: second chapter! i hope you like it <3 out of the three this one's probably my favorite personally, i really like the wound-stitching scene & i think it's one of the best scenes ive ever written. i'm suchhh a slut for the patching up of wounds trope.

You rose before the sun, careful to pack your belongings all in one sack. Considering the very little amount you’d brought, it was a relatively easy task—leaving the sloop would be fine, too, as you paid for the slip for a few months longer at least. Your father had so many ships across so many seas it hardly mattered much anymore.

You double-checked that you had all of your things before shutting down and leaving the sloop, consulting some of the dock men to transfer a boat lift under the berth. You moved carefully across the east port, making quick time as you returned to the Straw Hats’ ship in slip fifty-two.

There were apparent signs of life when you reached the ship, even with the sky cast over in dark hues of navy. All of the dead bodies had been removed, for one, and dock men were loading barrels up on the deck while Sanji watched over them. His expression brightened as his gaze fell across you.

“Lady Dracule!” he called out, slipping off from the barrel on which he’d been perched to meet you at the pier. You gave him an unimpressed look.

“I have a name, you know.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” Sanji answered, a lopsided grin pulling up the side of his face. You rolled his eyes and introduced yourself, which only prompted a brighter smile and a steady pat of his hand on your back. “A fine name, for a fine woman.”

“Sanji, stop flirting with the crew.” You glanced up to see Nami, one hip cocked to the side with her hand on her waist, staring down with an exasperated glint in her eye. “Welcome aboard the Going Merry. Sorry I was a little grouchy last night. I don’t like having my sleep interrupted.” She leaned down to offer you her hand, and you took it, climbing aboard the ship.

“The Going Merry?”

“Fits it, don’t you think?” Sanji asked from behind you. Nami eyed him again, volume dropping as she tilted her head towards yours.

“He’ll quit with the sweet talk eventually. I’ll give you a tour once we’ve cast off. We’re just waiting for Zoro to get back from town, and then we’re all set.” She turned to bark out another few orders to Sanji— “Finish up with the crates already!”

“Anything you want, madam,” Sanji said with a little bow. Nami let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Luffy already prepared a room for you. I’ll show you to it.” She led you below deck, back towards the ship’s aft. There was a collection of rooms all crammed together, one beside the other. “These are the women’s quarters. Men’s’ are all the way at the front of the ship.” She nodded behind her. “You get this one here. Sorry, it’s small.”

She opened the door to the very last room, and you stepped inside, surveying your surroundings. It wasn’t much; the cabin barely scraped by as a room, consisting of only a wardrobe, a hanging bed, and a small table and chair stuck in the corner. A round window at the very edge of the room revealed the water just a mere few feet below.

“It’ll do fine, thank you,” you said. Your room back at home was far more ornate, but you’d never been picky.

“You can sleep for a few more hours,” Nami said, lingering by the cabin mouth. “Come find me when you’re ready for a tour. We should be setting off in a few moments, if Zoro’s back.”

You gave her a smile, and she left, the patter of her footsteps dying off as she walked further and further away.

It didn’t take you long to get arranged, and afterwards, you gingerly sat down on the bed, the rope tied to the ceiling causing it to sway under you. You were still uncertain about boarding the ship, but you couldn't exactly return to your sloop now. And it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, you tried to convince yourself.

You felt the ship start moving just a few moments later, and you stood up, walking across the rocking ship to get up to the deck. You were making fast time, Loguetown’s silhouette rapidly getting swallowed in the gulp of the horizon.

Nami was bickering with Zoro and Luffy when you found her. “What even took you so long? We were due to leave a half-hour ago.”

“I was getting new swords,” Zoro said calmly. Nami eyed him, then yanked something out of his hand. A wallet, it looked like, stuffed with bills of berry. “You can’t be mad at me. I spent less than half of your budget.”

“They scammed you,” Nami scoffed, eyeing the katanas at Zoro’s hip. Zoro simply shrugged. “A sword for free? It’s probably made of plastic.”

Zoro snorted. “I’d be able to tell.”

Nami cast him a look, gaze unimpressed under the line of her eyelashes. “You can’t tell the difference between a ship mast and a tree.”

“Yeah, but I know swords.”

“Oh, hey!” Luffy, who’d seemed tuned out of his crewmates’ conversation, said as he spotted you. “Glad to see you here. Officially part of the crew.”

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not so sure if I’ll be joining you forever.” Luffy looked confused by that, but not particularly offended—Nami and Zoro had turned to watch you, too, argument dying on trembling legs. “Right now the plan is to help you get to the Grand Line. From there you can drop me home. And then we’ll part ways.”

“If you change your mind…” Luffy trailed off, then patted you on the shoulder. “Nami, were you going to show her around?”

“I was, but I’ve got some mapping to do.” Nami glanced over at Zoro. “Hey. Make yourself useful.”

“I hate you,” Zoro muttered. He brushed past you, just barely motioning with his head for you to follow. “Afterdeck.”

You stepped into the small space. It was easily the most secluded place on the ship deck, decorated with three young tangerine trees in white boxy planters. “I like your trees.”

“They’re Nami’s trees.” Zoro gestured with his head again, and you followed him. The tour was brief; Zoro didn’t have much to say, generally just showing you a room before telling you what it was and departing for the next area.

You were about halfway through the tour when Zoro spoke again, the words abrupt in his throat. He spat them out rather than spoke them, and you got the impression he’d been mulling over talking for a while— “You ever beat your dad in combat?”

You snorted. “No.”

Zoro didn’t look at you, opting instead to push through the next doorway and gesture vaguely around him to show you the surroundings. “Gotten close?”

“Never.” You shrugged. “He taught me the basics, but I wasn’t the best student. He’d try to be strict and everything, but… sword fighting isn’t really my thing. You’re probably better than me.”

Zoro gazed at you skeptically. “He taught you.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you—” He paused, mouth open for a moment before resuming his sentence. He didn’t sound particularly hesitant, but the pause had you stifling a smile anyway, knowing he was at least a little bit flustered. “We should train together.”

“Was that a question?”

“Not really.” Zoro’s lip quirked, one side of his mouth tugging upwards in an odd semblance of a smile. He didn’t seem the type to smile often, though, so it didn’t look out of ordinary on his face. “Have you seen enough of the ship yet, or do you want me to show you the bilge too?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered primly. “Now did you want to fight me or not?”

Zoro actually smiled at that.

You decided to train on the main deck, in an area wide enough to not bump into anyone else. You shed your jacket, pulling Hiru out of its scabbard. Zoro winced as the sun hit the silver blade, reflecting a blinding gleam off its surface. “That a stylistic choice?”

“I polish things when I get anxious,” you answered. “So not really.”

“Right.” Zoro untied a black bandana from where it was fixed on his bicep, fingers working fluidly against the knot. Once he got it untied, he wrapped it around his head, tying it carefully around his head. Afterwards, he slid one of his swords out of its scabbard, holding it with his fingers to follow with the other. “How low should my expectations be?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you answered. Zoro let a soft sound out through his mouth, but he said no more, transferring one sword to each hand. He moved carefully, arms arching over his head to lower to each of his sides. You lifted Hiru up, more casual in your movements than Zoro was.

You paid more attention to Zoro than the actual fight when you started moving. You figured you’d have time to genuinely practice later—you hadn’t kept a close eye on the swordsman in the battle against the pirate hunters, and your curiosity was eating at you. Zoro was all angles when he fought, elbows lifted and limbs pin-straight. That wasn’t to say there was no flexibility in his movements, though—he dodged your oncoming attacks easily, sidestepping with a light twist of the torso so your blade cut air instead of flesh.

Just a few seconds in you could tell Zoro was far, far better than you. You parried one of his attacks, gasp ripping from your throat as you just barely managed to block off a slash from his katana with Hiru. He spun towards you, careful not to actually cut as his blade came for the throat. You managed to dodge just in time, moving backwards with a quick patter of your feet against the wooden deck.

There was barely anything skewed in his motions, you were soon to realize. He was perfect in every sense of the word. Your styles were vastly different, of course—Zoro mainly relied on his blades, and his physicality was carefully practiced, no curves or bends apparent in the straight lines and slants of his body. In comparison, you were much more slippery, focusing mainly on your agility to carry you throughout a fight rather than your strength.

“Your elbow,” Zoro said. You barely managed to respond, letting out a grunt of effort as you blocked Zoro’s oncoming attack.

“Hm?”

Zoro’s katana came from the left. He used the other one to knock your arm up, nearly gentle in his movements, and you were reminded of how Mihawk used to train you—stopping mid-fight to reposition your limbs, using his sword to carefully push your hands in the right places. “You’re dropping it.”

“I don’t care much for angles,” you answered, ducking under Zoro’s incoming blade and sliding off to the side instead of trying to shove against it. Zoro seemed startled by that, struck off-balance as he stumbled, turning to face you.

You jerked your sword towards him, one leg coming up to shove against his torso whilst doing so. You managed to knock him fully off-balance then, and he staggered against his feet, teetering precariously backwards. “Your center of gravity is screwed.”

“You dad kept flinging me around the pier,” Zoro said. You raised your brows, the phrase nonsensical to your ears. But it did sound like Mihawk. “It run in the family?”

“Very funny.” You dodged another slash of Zoro’s swords. “The only thing I picked up well in our lessons was about keeping balance.”

“And dodging, apparently.” You snickered at that, parrying another one of Zoro’s attacks—but it was getting harder and harder, what with the immense strength of his body you simply couldn’t keep up with. As flexible as you were, you weren’t quick enough this time, and Zoro swept you off your feet so you fell to the ground, wind bursting out of your chest all in one rush. Hiru clattered a few feet away, your fingers unfolding from their grip and letting it move freely.

Zoro slid his swords back in their sheaths, letting them close with a satisfying click. “You fight too defensively.”

You lay there for a moment, trying to gather air back into your lungs. “Never found a point in attacking others, really.” You got up, straightening your shirt before bending over to pick Hiru up from the floor. “Good fight.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, but his voice was weak, tapering off to blend in with the wind. He had an uncertain look on his face, big brown eyes all fuzzy around the edges, like there was some cloudlike film covering him from seeing properly. You frowned at him.

“Is that because I’m worse or better than you expected?” you asked, gesturing vaguely up at his expression. Zoro blinked, the fog over his eyes clearing as he glanced down to meet your gaze. You waited expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. “Zoro?” you prompted.

“Sorry,” Zoro said. “I’m—I’m going to go to my cabin.”

You watched him leave, growing more quizzical by the second. Well, you’d gotten what you’d come there for, anyway. Roronoa Zoro was a great swordsman. And he certainly had the potential to be the greatest in the world, too—a realization that shook you a little, heart trembling from where it was fixed in your chest cavity. You swallowed hard, mind replaying the firm motions of his body from the fight. He’d been confident, sure of himself. You had even forgotten he still hosted Yoru’s slash along his torso from just a week or so prior, he’d been so… perfect.

“He’s good, huh?”

You startled, turning to see Usopp sitting atop a pile of crates like a king on a throne. He was picking at his fingernails. “Zoro,” he clarified. “Best swordsman in the East Blue.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at where Zoro had left. “He is.”

Usopp eyed you for a moment. “Your shell phone is ringing.”

You startled, patting down your figure before finally unearthing your phone from where it was tucked safely away in your pocket. You opened it, pushing the den den mushi in your ear as it vibrated, little mouth making soft rumbling sounds to catch your attention. Usopp clearly didn’t know a thing about privacy, though, because he kept watching even as you picked up— “Hello?”

“Back home yet, darling?” Mihawk asked over the line, and you relaxed, your entire body going slack with comfort as you heard the familiar low hum of your father’s voice. “I figured you’d go back as quickly as possible.”

“No, actually,” you said. “Luffy roped me into coming aboard his ship.”

You could practically see Mihawk’s brows lift up in surprise. “You joined the Straw Hat pirate’s crew?”

“No. They’re bringing me home. I’m helping them get to the Grand Line,” you corrected. Mihawk hummed, the sound a crackle of monotony through the den den mushi’s mouth.

“And why, pray tell, would you do that?”

You chewed at your bottom lip, glancing off the side of the Going Merry to the East Blue. The sun had risen fully, fixing itself in a warm beam in the sky. “I was curious about Roronoa Zoro. You never told me why you left him alive. Or why you let Luffy go.” You could still feel Usopp’s gaze on you while you spoke, and you just knew he’d be telling the rest of his crew this after your conversation finished. “So I wanted to figure out your reasoning.”

“Ah,” Mihawk said. “Has he healed from Yoru’s wound yet?”

“It’s not like I tore off his shirt to check, dad,” you muttered. Mihawk barked out a laugh, and you startled at the sound before settling down again. “He walks fine. I saw bandages.”

Mihawk seemed pleased by that. “Wonderful. He’s a hardy one. You should fight him.”

“Already did,” you answered. “He beat me.”

Mihawk considered that for a moment. “Eh, I saw that coming.”

You scoffed. “You have no faith in me. Where are you now?”

“South Blue, still,” Mihawk replied. “Are you at least enjoying yourself there? It’ll be good for you to make friends, sweetheart. You don’t get much social interaction other than me and the villagers, after all.”

“I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a ride home,” you said insistently, but your voice was weak, and Mihawk clearly didn’t believe you. Your mind wandered back to Zoro—the firm muscle of his body, the hushed tone he spoke in, and you found your face pinkening. “One of them—one of them wants to kill you. That’s his entire life’s purpose. To murder you.”

“I think you’re being a tad bit broad, darling,” Mihawk said with a click of his tongue. “You seem rather enamored with this particular young swordsman. Something to say?”

“I—” your words fumbled in your mouth, and you were certain you were entirely pink now, the sun’s glowing rays only making your face warmer than it was rapidly turning. “Stop. I’m hanging up now.”

Mihawk’s voice was tastefully dry when he responded. “I’m sure.”

“Shut up, old man,” you grumbled.

“Right. Remember the rule, dear,” Mihawk trilled, and despite his voice being as monotone as ever, you could still identify the undertones of it—laced with syrupy mocking, all teasing and dramatic. “No dating unless he can beat you in combat!”

You actually did hang up this time, practically tearing the den den mushi out of your ear. You huffed out an irritated breath, rubbing a circle into the shell of your snail as an apology just a moment later. “Sorry,” you murmured. “My dad’s a bitch.”

The snail just let out a little grumble in response. You tucked it back into its case and snapped the phone shut.

“Aw, we’re not allowed to say hi?” You spun around at the new voice, glaring upon seeing Sanji and Luffy having joined Usopp in his eavesdropping. Sanji bore a gigantic grin on his face. “Sounded like an interesting conversation.”

“None of you know what boundaries are,” you muttered, but it was light-hearted.

You didn’t see Zoro until suppertime, a fact that rang odd in your head. It seemed like he’d completely evaporated from the ship, disappearing around every corner as you spent the rest of the day getting to know the rest of the crew better. Something had happened, but you weren’t exactly sure what—and you weren’t exactly sure if you were close enough to him to even ask, yet.

Sanji had cooked up a dinner so fine you doubted it could even quality as ship food. From your time traveling with your father, rations on-board hadn’t been much of anything—a few scraps of bread or dried meat, old apples, perhaps some fish if you were lucky. Mihawk hadn’t the biggest priority on eating well, but the Straw Hat crew seemed to have the exact opposite opinion. You were served a bowl of miso soup along with a bowl of rice, and dishes of tofu and oyster sauce stir-fried vegetables were carefully laid out all across the table.

“Bon appétit,” Sanji said, taking a half-bow before slipping into the last seat around the table. “I hope it’s to your liking. Yours especially, Lady Dracule.” He gave you a little wink at that. You just stared at him.

“I thought I told you my name.”

“Well, you did, but I thought Lady Dracule had a nice ring to it.”

“It doesn’t,” you said. Nami stifled a snort, the hand not holding her chopsticks coming up to cover her mouth. Sanji didn’t look the slightest bit dissuaded. You turned your attention on Zoro, who hadn’t spoken a word throughout the whole meal. He was rather studiously focused on his bowl, eyes picking apart the grains of rice like they’d reveal the world’s greatest secrets.

Carefully, you leaned towards Nami, voice coming out in a hushed whisper. “Is he okay?”

“He gets like that sometimes,” Nami answered, her words drowned out by Usopp and Luffy’s cheerful conversation. “Nobody can crack him except for Luffy. I’d just leave him be.”

“You don’t know why?”

Nami just shrugged. “Hell, we’re all depressed sometimes. Not within my rights to question him.”

You nodded, but your gaze didn’t move away from Zoro’s figure. There was a particular squeezing sensation deep in your chest—a little flip-flop thing, a sort of panging you couldn’t quite place. He glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours for just a fraction of a second. But he didn’t flinch away. He just returned your gaze, strong and unblinking.

To your surprise, Zoro was the first to look away, craning his neck to study his bowl again and continuing on like your extended bout of eye contact hadn’t even happened. You watched him, dumbstruck, until Nami nudged you in the shoulder. The rest of the group’s idle chatter had died down, and Usopp and Sanji were staring at you, low murmurs falling out of their mouths. You cleared your throat, finally dropping your gaze from the green-haired swordsman and attempting to ignore the fact everyone had caught you staring.

You didn’t do much of anything after supper—you just returned to your cabin, carefully walking across the creaking boards of the ship. Luffy assigned you mid watch, so you had a few hours to sleep before waking up at midnight to look out for any enemies.

You couldn’t find yourself falling asleep even after you’d slipped into bed. You’d changed, a loose blouse light against your skin, black silk shorts grazing your thighs. It was cold out, so you shrugged on a robe as you headed out into the darkness of the Going Merry. You emerged out on the deck, taking in a breath of the night air as you glanced to see who had the night watch.

Just your luck. It was Zoro.

He seemed tranquil, lounging across a hammock with his white sword—the Wado Ichimonji—cradled in his arms. In the dim light you couldn’t see if his eyes were open or closed, but as you got closer, he cracked one of them open, a gleam reflecting off his right iris. “Hi,” you said, moving over to the side of the ship to watch the waves on the water.

Zoro didn’t deign to respond, so you just stood there, watching the sea lap at the side of the ship until eventually the hour struck twelve. Zoro left soundlessly. You stayed awake all throughout your watch until Usopp came to relieve you of your duties.

Zoro was avoiding you.

A few days had passed since you first boarded the Going Merry. They hadn’t been of much interest—just days of practicing with your sword and chatting with the crew, for the most part. You helped around the ship, completing various tasks apparently none of the members knew or cared enough to do. You were just emerging from the bilge, having done basic maintenance to ensure everything was working properly, when you bumped into him. The man was apparently taking a nap, though you couldn’t figure out why the storage area was a very good place to sleep. Still, he seemed comfortable enough, long body splayed along a grouping of crates.

“Hi,” you said, for what seemed like the hundredth time over a few days. Zoro just averted his gaze and let out a little grunt in response. You stared at him for a moment. The realization had dawned on you ever since the first day, but it was growing more and more apparent, and you were baffled as to what you’d done to incur the silent treatment.

“Hi,” you repeated, more purposefully this time.

“Hey,” Zoro said, though the word was clearly bitter in his mouth. You propped your hands on your hips and stared down at him.

“You’re avoiding me.”

Zoro closed his eyes, expression not even changing. “You’re not that special.”

“Ever since we fought that one time, you’ve been ignoring me,” you barreled on, entirely ignoring his quip. Zoro cocked a brow, eyes still closed, and you glared down at it. “I’d like to know why.”

“Why do you care? We’re not friends.”

“Isn’t it natural to want to know why someone is mad at you?” you demanded, perplexed. Zoro sighed then, shifting around on his boxes.

“I’m not mad at you.” You heaved out a sigh even more irritated than Zoro’s. Your experience in the realm of dealing with close-lipped men’s personal issues was, unfortunately, rather well-seasoned. You’d had to coax situations out of your father, one hand pressed against Yoru’s hilt to prevent Mihawk from lashing out his frustrations rather than explaining them. But that didn’t mean you were all too fond of it.

“Okay, well, why else would you be ignoring me then?”

Zoro’s response was annoyingly frank. “It’s not really any of your business.”

You pursed your lips, trying to suppress the irritated noise that threatened to burst from your throat. “I don’t like being on bad terms with people,” you started. “If I did something to piss you off, I’d very much like it if you—”

The floor slipped out from underneath you before you could finish your sentence. You fell with a graceless clatter, lurching forward into the stack of crates Zoro was leaning on, words dying on your tongue. The entire boat trembled, quivering from side to side as if the ocean waves had suddenly propelled a thousand more ripples at its surface.

Zoro sat immediately up, one hand pushing you off of him as he scrambled off the crates. “What was that?”

“I don’t—” Just a moment after regaining your balance, there was another dull thud and a row of quivers. You remained steady this time, glancing carefully around you before you and Zoro were both hurrying up towards the ship deck. The Going Merry was in chaos when you emerged, Nami at the helm while Sanji was firing up a cannon beside her.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, the tails of your coat lapping around your calves as you hurried up besides Luffy.

“Pirates,” Luffy said grimly, nodding towards a ship that was quickly gaining on you. “They blew through the stern railing. Do any of you recognize the jolly roger?”

You glanced up, taking in the billowing sail boasting a pure-white jolly roger with a top hat and mustache. “Nope. These things are getting more and more ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed, affronted. “Ours is way better.”

You turned your gaze up at the Straw Hat crew’s aforementioned jolly roger. “...No comment.”

“We can’t outrun them!” Nami shouted from her place at the helm. Sanji had successfully nailed a cannonball into the railing of the oncoming ship, but they had a dozen more men. “I’m going to try to get closer. Best chance we have is one-on-one combat.” She turned to fix the small grouping with a glare. “Don’t just stand there. Get to it!”

You launched into action, hurrying to climb up the rigging to get a better view as Nami veered hard to starboard. The enemy ship had dropped their cannons, and you could see them preparing to board the Merry, grabbing onto loose ropes of rigging. “They’re going to swing over,” you reported, watching as the ship tilted in your direction, gaining on you. “I see maybe two or three dozen men.”

You hesitated, glancing around at the rather stationary crew around you. Your lip tugged between your teeth, and you stood there for a moment, unspoken words heavy on your tongue. You could see the captain yelling out orders on the ship across from you, and you turned abruptly, fixing Sanji with a look.

“Sanji, trade with Usopp. I want you to nail a cannon at their port stern.”

“W—What? Me?” Usopp stuttered. You nodded.

“I want Sanji on the frontlines. That should be close enough now.” You gazed out at the rapidly thinning gap between the two ships. One final cannonball whizzed towards, and you ducked, watching as it just brushed the side of the Merry. The ship rocked, and you tightened your grip on the rigging, satisfied to see it’d barely left a mark.

“They’re coming over,” Sanji reported, and you nodded, sliding Hiru out from your scabbard as enemy pirates started swinging over on ropes. Luffy was the first to react, an arching, rubbery limb catching one of them midair and yanking them down into the ocean. Boots thudded on the ground as the enemy pirates landed aboard the Going Merry.

“Time for a fight,” Zoro murmured, barely audible from your left. You jumped down from the rigging, sword coming down to crash against one of the enemy pirates. He reacted slowly, pistol cocking towards your chest—but you just brushed it to the side with Hiru, cutting it straight out his hand and following up with a flurry of sword thrusts.

Besides you, you saw Sanji sliding into battle, spinning on his palms to deliver a mean right hook to someone’s jawbone. An audible crack pierced the air, and you winced, breezing backwards on your feet as two pirates closed in on you.

Luffy seemed to have engaged in a one-on-one with the enemy captain, who was easily identifiable due to the gigantic top hat perched upon his head. He had thick black hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, and a mustache and beard to match. A thick cutlass was tightened in one fist, thrusted towards Luffy—but every sweep was dodged with unbelievable bends of the torso.

You turned your attention away, whipping your sword at the pirates that surrounded you. Hiru clashed with their blades, gleaming silver scraping against theirs. You leaned forward, and the blade before you broke with the pressure, sword snapping under Hiru’s will.

The sword dropped out of the pirate’s hand, and you took the opportunity to pull your leg up, kicking him squarely in the jaw. The other lunged for you, and your fist dug into their torso, hands gripping tight to their belt. You bent over, twisting into his body to push him over your shoulder in a sweeping throw.

He fell to the floor all in one, and you landed a kick to his chest just to ensure he wouldn’t get up again. Another man—bigger, this time, probably half your width and inches taller—gunned for you.

You sidestepped him easily, agility tilting in your favor as you escaped his grasp. It was harder to take this one down—while you could dodge him well enough, and parry his oncoming attacks, he was simply too strong to compete with. Strength isn’t everything, little hawk, Mihawk would always tell you. Everyone has a weakness. Get them off balance. Use your points.

The man delivered a stinging left hook to your torso, and you gasped. He took the opportunity to grab onto your wrist, grip so tight you couldn’t move your hand. Hiru clattered out from between your fingers. You directed a hit with your elbow towards the pirate’s sternum, but it was oddly-placed, and he just sneered down at you.

One of his large fists rose to thud against your skull, and you braced for impact, but the blow never landed. A warm squishing sound of a sword against skin made your entire body shudder, and you turned to stare as your assailant’s head slid cleanly off of his neck.

Zoro was behind him when his body collapsed, sword slick with blood as he spun it lazily around in a hand. “Careful,” he said.

You gaped up at him for merely a second more before you realized your jaw was ajar. You flushed, bending over to fish Hiru up from the floor. “I was fine.”

Zoro just thrust his sword cleanly into the torso of an incoming pirate, eyes not breaking away from yours. He slid it out with a sickening sound, flicking the blood off the blade with a motion of his hand. “A thank you might be nice.”

“Behind you,” you said instead, but Zoro was already reacting. You watched him, an incurable sigh perched on the tip of your tongue. He was good. He was really, really good, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. “Is that most of them?”

“I think—” Zoro cut himself off, glancing over his shoulder as you both hear the familiar yell of Luffy’s voice screaming out one of his final moves. You both watched, soundless, as his foot smashed into the top hat pirate’s face, flinging him all the way across the water straight into the mast of his own ship. Only mere seconds later did the mast crack, the wooden pole falling down in a glorious, wooden heap.

“...Yeah, we’re fine.” Zoro said. He leaned down, grabbing the shirt of one of the fallen pirates to wipe his blade with before sliding it back in its scabbard. “Let’s get out of here.”

“On it.” Nami snapped her bo staff closed—when she’d jumped down into the battle, you were unsure, but she was already returning to her place at the helm. “Toss these bodies off our boat, would you, Zoro?”

“Right.” Zoro bent over, easily picking up the fallen pirate and chucking the corpse overboard without another thought. You watched him the entire time, the strain of his biceps against his skin forming solid ridges up his arms.

“I can clean your swords,” you said, words a bit too late out of your mouth. Zoro glanced up, brow creased. “While you’re doing that.”

Zoro looked uncertain, but he unstrapped the scabbards from his hip, handing the twin katanas to you. You took them, glancing over his figure again. He moved with difficulty, and while you’d originally thought that was because of the bodies’ weight, you now saw the real reason. Lines of crimson were seeping through his shirt, a pool by the left side of his lower abdomen the biggest injured site. You took an involuntary step forward. “You’re hurt.”

“I can treat them later,” Zoro said dismissively. “Gotta clean up the Merry first.”

“No, mosshead, the lady is right,” Sanji said. You startled, not having noticed him slip up beside you. “Usopp and I can manage with waste control, eh?” He winked. “Go clean up.”

Zoro glared at him, the look dripping with malice, but he didn’t argue past that. “Fine,” he said, chucking another body—this one alive—off the side of the ship before straightening. You heard the hitch in his breath as he spoke, along with the near-imperceptible wince of his face. “You good, Luffy?”

“A little hungry,” Luffy responded truthfully. He was still watching the other ship. Fire had started aboard it, and soft billows of black smoke drifted in the air. “Can you cook something up later, Sanji?”

“Got it,” Sanji said. “Tell your first mate to patch up his wound before he bleeds out all over our beautiful deck.”

“The deck isn’t beautiful, it’s got blood and guts all over it,” Zoro muttered.

“Well, have a little respect and don’t add to the mess.” Sanji fixed him with a stern look. Zoro bared his teeth at him in a grimace, extracting a sharp little laugh out of your throat. His eyes brushed over yours, a glimmer of surprise dancing in his irises, before he ducked inside.

“Why are you following me?” Zoro asked flatly, as you entered the cabin he’d gone into. You’d hastened to keep up with him, only a few steps behind before finding the room he’d gone into. Zoro had propped himself up on the hanging bed, loosening the ties of his wrap shirt to expose his bare chest.

“I was wondering if you needed any help with your wounds.” You deposited Zoro’s swords, along with Hiru, on the table in the room, moving closer to him to survey the scene. “If you wanted it.”

Zoro’s gaze met yours, and he said nothing for a moment. “First aid kit’s over there,” he finally said, nodding to the table. You moved towards it, opening up the small box to expose supplies of bandages, needles, stitch string, and disinfectant inside. You carried the box over to the bed, sanitizing your hands before carefully parting the folds of Zoro’s shirt. The cloth stuck to skin, coagulating blood making the shirt peel rather than move. Now that his entire torso was bared, though, you could fully inspect his wounds. There were still bandages from Yoru’s cut, all dirtied up now from his other injuries—you’d have to take them off and re-dress them, so he’d be in the bed for thirty minutes at least.

You turned your attention to the cut by Zoro’s abdomen, deciding it was the most important thing to focus on. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was gushing a steady flow of blood, and you picked up a towel to press against the wound. “Hold,” you instructed, and Zoro’s fingers brushed against yours as he took a hold of the cloth. “Thanks. I’ve got to take your bandages off, then I’ll clean and dress all the wounds. That one down there might need stitches.”

“How do you know how to do this?” Zoro asked, watching as you unwrapped the previous bandages from around his chest. You were careful to touch his skin as little as possible, distracting yourself with the blood and gauze.

“My dad,” you answered. You’d spent too many late nights patching up a wound Mihawk had brushed off as unimportant, only to wind up bleeding out on your couch. Zoro raised a brow.

“Dracule Mihawk gets injured?”

“Of course he does,” you said with a huff. “Don’t be stupid. He’s a man, just like the rest of you.” The gash from Yoru had fully scabbed over, revealing a long, trembling crust of dark ochre. You finished peeling off all the bandages, and cast them to the side.

“You know a lot.”

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” you quipped. You moved away from the desk to fill a bucket with warm water, dipping a cloth into it and squeezing out the excess. You dabbed around Yoru’s scab with the cloth, careful not to break the shell while still cleaning it of any extra gunk. Then you focused on flushing out the other wounds, wiping across his skin and getting all the little nicks on his chest and arms. Zoro didn’t say a word, but you could feel his eyes boring into your skull, watching you with a hardened intensity that made your insides churn.

You nudged his hand away, examining the big cut. The rag he was holding had filled up with blood, white cotton dyed red and sodden with liquid. Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to have lessened. You wiped up all the last of it with your towel, swiping it against the pills of blood that had caught along the waistband of his trousers. Zoro hissed as you came into contact with the wound. “Sorry,” you murmured.

“Why are you apologizing?”

You frowned at that. “Because it hurt?”

“I thought you were mad at me,” Zoro said stiffly. You raised your brows. “Since… you thought I was annoyed at you, or whatever.”

“Just because you feel a certain kind of way towards me doesn’t mean I reciprocate the same feelings,” you answered, setting aside your towel after deciding everything had been cleaned out well enough. You picked up another cloth, dabbing this one with some alcohol to disinfect the wound. “This is going to sting,” you warned.

Zoro’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you flushed out the wound. His torso clenched, and your eyes fell across his exposed midriff, watching the tight skin that was seemingly sculpted into muscles. You glanced away just a moment later, a dusting of warmth brushing over your cheeks. “On that topic,” you hastened to say, trying to distract yourself from the half-naked man in front of you, “Why were you avoiding me?”

Zoro let out a sigh, the sound stuttered as he clenched his jaw again when you brushed your towel against his wound. You waited, taking out a fresh cloth to dab at the other nicks on his body. You examined the wound near his left side again. “Stitches.”

“Great,” Zoro muttered. You ignored him, searching in the kit for some needle and thread. “Can you take the stitches out from your dad’s yet?”

“Ha ha. You’re going to need those for a few more weeks,” you said, without even looking at the scab to check. “Ask me again later. Yoru cuts are deadly.”

Zoro let his eyes flutter closed. “It’s a great sword.”

“Yeah, it is,” you said. You paused from where you were threading the needle, glancing up at Zoro’s face now that you knew he couldn’t catch you staring. He looked so peaceful in this state, eyelashes splayed along his cheeks, dark umber freckles that you hadn’t noticed before splattered across his face. There were dozens of them, skin sun-worn and bearing the marks as proof—constellations of dark brown stars, so similar to his warm, glowing skin it was easy to miss. A five-o’-clock shadow traced around his mouth, and at his left ear, his golden earrings gleamed bright.

“I don’t feel anything,” Zoro said, and you snapped out of your reverie, fingers fumbling to finish threading your needle.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” you hissed. Zoro snorted.

“Yeah, one I don’t have.” You rolled your eyes, tying off the string and bending down to examine the cut again. It wasn’t too wide—maybe five or six stitches at most. You gave Zoro no warning except for the light brush of your fingers against the wound, and he hissed again.

You glanced up. “Do you want something to bite on?”

“I’m not a toddler,” Zoro sneered. You mouthed his words mockingly, though you didn’t actually speak them, not wanting him to catch you doing such an immature action. You fixed your gaze back on the wound, free hand resting flat against Zoro’s abdomen to steady you—his skin was warm under your palm, and you expected him to say something, but to your surprise, he didn’t even flinch.

The first puncture came carefully. Zoro hissed, the sound of a low rumble in his throat as you felt his abdomen clench under your palm. You forced yourself to continue, pulling the thread fully through the skin before moving onto the other side of the wound. You did it again, carefully to keep the string untangled as it ran through Zoro’s flesh.

“It wasn’t because I was mad at you,” Zoro said abruptly, and you paused, glancing up to look at Zoro’s face. His eyes were still closed, brows contorted tight and mouth bared down into a grimace. “Don’t stop. I wasn’t avoiding you because I was angry. Or because of anything you did.”

“Why, then?” you asked, lowering your head to continue with your stitches. Zoro took in a sharp breath at the next one, the edges of a scream cutting into his breath but not fully escaping from his throat. You were rubbing a comforting circle into his stomach before you could stop yourself—muscle memory from patching up your dad’s wounds. You swallowed hard, but didn’t stop the motions—Zoro didn’t seem offended by them.

His voice was raggedy when he spoke again. “Fighting against you. It reminded me of—my friend, from back then. I told you about her.”

Your lips pursed, but you didn’t stall your actions, running the thread through the hole you’d pricked. “The one you made the promise to?”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, the word falling out all in one breath. You fixed the string tight along the wound, fingers splayed across his stomach warning him for the next puncture. He continued speaking despite it, and your needle hovered over his skin. “We were training together—fuck.”

“Sorry,” you said again, still running your thread through his skin as he heaved out a long, ragged groan from low in his throat.

“We were training together,” he repeated. “Haven’t done that in a while with a girl. So it—” His voice tapered off in another breathy groan. “Reminded me of her. I got bitchy.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said. You were getting close to the end of the wound now, but your actions slowed, just to keep him talking—the words came out all harsh and hesitant, and you got the feeling speaking about his past was a laborious task. Might as well let him have the safety of avoiding your eyes like this while he spoke. “Do I look like her or something?”

Zoro huffed out a laugh. “Ha. No.”

“Okay,” you said. You pierced his skin again—he took this one better, muscles clenching as he sucked in hard. You waited until you finished the stitch to speak again. “Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“No,” Zoro said. His words pierced the air, weighed heavy with a gasp of pain and a hiss, but it still rang sharp in your ears. He eased out a breath, long and soft. “It was unfair. Can’t help it sometimes, that’s all.”

“That’s fine,” you answered carefully. You threaded one last stitch, both of you mute as you tightened the wound closed with the suture and tied it off. You snipped the string with a pocketknife, using another damp towel to clean up any of the excess blood. “I’m going to dress everything with bandages now. Almost done.”

“Okay,” Zoro said. You reorganized your supplies, tucking away your stitching things to replace with bandages and dressing pads. You washed your hands again, then returned to bend over Zoro’s torso. When you did, you were surprised to see Zoro’s eyes had opened, soft brown irises boring into yours. You swallowed, feeling the burn of his gaze into your skin as you stared at the skin of his midsection.

“I’ll do the big one first, then everything else,” you said carefully. You worked in silence, pressing a dressing pad along the wound and tying it off with some gauze to fix it in place. You moved around his body, bandaging up any cuts you deemed worthy until you finally were left with Yoru’s cut.

It stretched the entire expanse of his torso, from shoulder to hip. It’d been well done, the cut deep but not deep enough to kill as long as someone was fast enough with treatment. You recognized the shape of the cut, the very tip of it thin before Yoru’s mouth caught the skin with the center of his blade. “He did it like this on purpose?” Zoro asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s methodical with most things.” You wrapped gauze around the scab, tightening it up and then finally tying it off by his hip. “I’d keep that on for a few days before replacing it. Keep dressing it for another two weeks or so. It’ll probably start swelling soon, so I can help you drain whatever fluid develops.”

“I’ll let you know,” Zoro said. He was still watching you with those big brown eyes, and a soft shiver traced down your spine. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for saving me from that pirate earlier,” you said. You surveyed him again, though you were careful not to meet his eyes. A long silence filled the space, heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. You ducked your head, busying yourself with putting away the first aid kit. The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them— “I like your earrings.”

“Oh,” Zoro said. Nothing else.

You were pretty sure you liked more than the earrings. You liked the way he fought, even if it scared you sometimes—even if you knew one day he’d probably be able to beat your father. You liked his face; those big brown eyes, soulless at times but holding the world in those glistening irises at others. Those freckles, adorned with the entire galaxy, stars and planets and constellations dotting his cheeks like a mural of life. The way he talked, soft-spoken but utterly real, voice low in his throat, words disturbingly honest.

You didn’t say so, though. You stuck with the earrings, because those were safer.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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itneverendshere · 15 days

Text

guilty conscience (+18)

chapter ii

pairing: rafe cameron x female!reader

summary: when ward cameron, a renowned business man and millionaire specifically requested your services through an escort agency, you assumed it would be just another job—brief and straightforward. however, your entire world shifted when ward disclosed his true intentions and rafe cameron stumbled into your life. there were rules, and rules were meant to be followed.

was money worth breaking someone’s heart?

Outer Banks, paradise on earth?

More like hell.

The scorching sun beat down mercilessly upon you, it felt like walking into a sweltering inferno, leaving you gasping for relief in the oppressive heat. You had always been a sucker for warmer weather, but this? This was unlike anything you’d ever experienced.

Each step you took was a struggle, the air thick with humidity that clung to your skin like a suffocating blanket. Glistening beads of sweat formed on your brow as you trudged along the street, wondering if Ward’s money was worth solar insulation.

Yeah, it was. But it was also, kind of unsettling.

You weren’t paid to think about the morality of the entire thing. It wasn’t your problem, right? It wasn't like you were paid to think about that stuff. Who were you to turn down an opportunity like this?

In a world where money spoke louder than anything else, you had to look out of yourself first.

You remembered the way Ward's eyes gleamed with a calculated intensity as he outlined the details of his latest scheme.

"In a couple weeks, my company is hosting a charity event," Ward had explained. "It's an open invitation affair, no need for formalities. That's where you'll have your first encounter with him."

Ward's instructions had been crystal clear like he was laying out a step-by-step guide for some high-stakes mission. As he pushed that envelope filled with cash across the table, your heart skipped a beat.

The bills were crisp and pristine, practically begging to be spent. You couldn't mess this up. The pressure was on, but you weren’t about to let that fat stack of cash slip through your fingers.

And just like that, weeks later, you found yourself standing outside the venue. The sweltering heat seemed even more oppressive as you made your way through the throngs of people. The whole scene felt like a fever dream, with the air thick with humidity and the sounds of laughter and chatter echoing all around.

You had spent ages agonizing over what to wear, finally settling on a breezy sundress adorned with floral patterns. Paired with simple sandals and delicate jewelry, you hoped to strike the perfect balance between casual elegance and summer chic.

As you made your way through the crowd and stepped into the outdoor venue, you couldn't help but be dazzled by the sight. Fairy lights twinkled overhead, casting a warm glow over the pier, while colorful decorations danced in the breeze. It was like stepping into a postcard-perfect paradise.

Focus. You were there for one thing and one thing only.

Your mind raced as you scanned the crowd, searching for Rafe. You couldn't afford to let him slip through your fingers.

And then, just like that, you spotted him.

Wow, okay. That was surprisingly easy.

He looked nothing like the old picture Ward had pulled out of his Hermes wallet. In that photo, he was just a cute kid, probably around sixteen, with a mischievous grin plastered on his face. But now? Now he was something else entirely.

You could tell he was insanely attractive, even from a distance, in a way that made your knees weak. Tall, impeccably dressed, and oh! You could see how pretty his eyes were from where you stood. His sandy blond hair was covered by a baseball cap on backward. And yeah, it made him look insanely douchey but for some sick reason, it only made you find him more attractive.

No wonder Ward wanted to keep girl’s pawns off him.

He moved through the crowd with ease, flashing what you assumed was his signature smile. You knew it from the get-go, there was something about the way he carried himself, with a confidence that was both alluring and intimidating. It was like he knew he was hot, and he wasn't afraid to show it.

But you weren't there to admire him from a distance. With a determined set to your jaw, you pushed your way through the crowd, inching closer and closer to where Rafe stood.

As you approached, it was like this electric buzz was shooting through your veins, making your palms all sweaty. You blamed it partly on the weather. This was it, the moment you had been waiting for. You squared your shoulders, ready to deliver the best performance of your life.

But just as you were about to reach him, Rafe's gaze flickered in your direction, and for a moment, it felt like everything stood still. So fucking cliché.

His piercing blue eyes locked with yours, and it felt like he was peering into your soul or something. You felt this shiver run down your spine as if he could see right through you.

And just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, when someone blocked your vision.

You gotta be shitting me, you cursed to yourself.

As you looked up, you found yourself face to face with a blonde guy, his grin wide. He leaned in a little too close, invading your personal space.

“You're new. M’ JJ, you?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, “Not interested.”

Yeah, he was cute. But you were working, and he was making your job a lot harder.

The guy—JJ, apparently—didn't seem to get the hint, his grin widening as he leaned against one of the tables.

He raised an eyebrow, undeterred. "Aw, come on, don't be like that.”

You sighed inwardly. You had more important things to deal with than fending off unwanted advances from some wannabe player. He was probably a nice guy, but you really didn’t care.

You leaned your head to the side, standing on your tiptoes as you refocus your attention on Rafe. Except when you turned back to where he had been standing, he was nowhere to be seen.

Ugh, motherfucker.

Panic began to bubble up inside you. You scanned the crowd frantically, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he was gone.

Great. Just great.

“You lookin’ for someone or somethin’? I can help you.” He’s still flashing that cheesy grin like he's auditioning for a toothpaste commercial.

“Doubt it.” You shot JJ a withering glare, hoping to convey just how uninterested you were in his advances. But instead of taking the hint, he just grinned even wider, like he thought he was being charming or something.

"Goddamn, no need to be rude," he said, unfazed by your icy demeanor. "Just trying to be friendly."

Friendly? Yeah, right. You were about to brush him off again when you caught sight of movement out of the corner of your eye and then a hand was suddenly landing on JJ’s shoulder, pulling him away from you with a surprising force.

“We got a problem here?”

You glanced up to see Rafe standing there, swooping in like some sort of guardian angel, but with a serious case of resting bitch face.

He was even prettier up close.

“They let you out the mental institution for this, huh?”

Rafe's gaze remained fixed on JJ, blue eyes cold and calculating as remained. You found yourself holding your breath, unsure of what would happen next. You were just standing there, wondering if you should start taking bets on who was gonna throw the first punch.

Rafe's lips quirked up into a smirk, but there was no warmth in it.

"That’s a good one. Why don’t you walk away before I let it loose on you?”

Oh. These two were definitely not friends.

Your eyes darted between them wondering how the fuck you managed to get stuck in between a cat fight.

“I don't take orders from you, kook.”

Rafe's smirk only widened at JJ's defiance, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes as he took a step closer, closing the distance between them. Rafe was not backing down; it was like he was enjoying every second of this showdown with JJ. And you had to admit, there was something kind of hot about the way he was standing his ground.

But you needed to stop it.

“He was just telling me where to find the bathroom.”

Rafe's eyes flickered to you, “’M sure he was. Next time, maybe try being a little less persistent, huh?"

JJ bristled at Rafe's words, his expression darkening with frustration as he shot you a glare before reluctantly backing down. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at the way Rafe effortlessly commanded the situation. Your mind wandered to other scenarios where his demeanor would be a very pleasant surprise.

"Yeah, whatever," JJ muttered, “Fucking kook.” his tone sullen as he shot one last scowl in Rafe's direction before turning on his heel and stalking off into the crowd.

You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension slowly dissipate from your body. If Ward caught wind of what just went down, he'd probably lose it and boot you from the gig faster than you could say "summer job."

It wasn't like Rafe was about to throw fists for your sake specifically; you were pretty sure he was just itching for a brawl and JJ happened to provide the perfect opportunity. But hey, whether it was for you or not, the fact remained: you were smack dab in the middle of it all and Ward would kill you.

“You new around here?”

His voice had a rugged quality to it, with a hint of a southern drawl that added to its charm. You turned to see Rafe looking at you, his eyes no longer cold but instead holding a hint of curiosity.

The smell of his cologne nearly knocked you off your feet.

“Visiting for the Summer.”

As Rafe nodded, and your gut clenched as his gaze remained fixed on yours.

“I’m Rafe.”

A slow grin grew at the corner of your mouth, “Rafe? Is that short for anything?”

As Rafe's lips curved into a half-smile, he shook his head slightly. "Nah, just Rafe. What about you?”

You told him your name. Ward made sure any trace of you was deleted from the web, which unfortunately included your instagram account. No social media for you this summer. An unfortunate sacrifice.

Rafe repeated your name, committing it to memory. "Nice to meet ya.”

And then, the walking nightmare that sucked you into this, walked in. Suddenly, the stakes felt higher, the competition fiercer.

"Rafe, there you are!"

You turned to see a girl approaching, Sofia, you assumed. She was prettier than what Ward had let on and you quickly realized why Rafe had been so smitten with her. She was gorgeous, in a way that made you feel suddenly self-conscious, like you were standing in her shadow. Until you remembered who the fuck you were and snapped out of it.

Rafe's face lit up as he turned to greet her, a genuine warm smile taking over his whole face. A complete contrast to his posture earlier.

Fuck.

The way her dainty fingers wrapped around his neck when he hugged her made you want to curse Ward out for writing her off as some sort of fling. This would be harder than you thought. It was clear that they knew each other very well. They had history, a connection that clearly ran deeper than just friendship.

You plastered on your best smile and stepped forward, ready to make your move. But before you could utter a single word, Rafe's attention was pulled away once again, this time by a group of friends who had just arrived.

Embarrassing much?

“I’ll see ya around, yeah?”

You watched helplessly as he disappeared into the crowd, swallowed up by the sea of people.

The whole situation turned out to be a hot mess. It felt like the universe was conspiring against you. Plus, the heat was making everything feel ten times worse.

But you were not about to throw in the towel just yet.

Not when there was cold hard cash waiting for you at the end of that dumpster fire. You just needed to keep your cool and come up with a new game plan.

Rafe Cameron wouldn’t even know what hit him.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe angst

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princessbrunette · 2 months

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OUTERBANKS: THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU — THE LORE ♡

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

CW: depressing tones, violence, death, blood, gore.

AN: okay, so i don’t really know what this is — but i wanted to open this up as an au i could write drabbles for with reader x character and i decided to write some extensive lore behind the universe i’m creating. i’ve always loved zombie media so i wanted to combine my fav things n create this little au for you guys. this isn’t really a fic but more so an opener to inspire drabble requests n ideas in my inbox, kind of like an experimentation. okay, hope you enjoy !! ౨ৎ

“We got gate one locked down, I repeat Pope— we got gate one locked down. Proceed with opening gate two. Over.”

“Got it, thanks JJ. Over.”

The squealing of mechanics shakes the dusty ground as the old gates begin to slowly slide, squealing as they open up revealing the long forest road up ahead. John B readies himself for a simple supply stake out, headed out alone to check out an old warehouse one of the runners had scoped out a week prior. As he exits the gates, he looks right and then looks left — stepping on the squishy skull of a previously dealt with Infected, its body lulling out from the old rickety grafitti’d sign reading Kitty Hawk.

The world went to shit back in 2020. Some sort of pandemic that had people biting others, their brains overpowered by aggression and hunger for flesh. One day everyone was cleaning up the beaches after Storm Agatha, the next day people were tearing into flesh right infront of your very eyes. At first, the people of the Outerbanks had moved out onto their boats, living out on the water with the occasional supply run. It worked for a while, the infected couldn’t swim so as long as your boat was afloat — you were safe from their bloody unforgiving jaws. However, supplies started to run out pretty fast, and people began to turn on eachother. Hopping boats and pirating until no one was left standing and the water was tainted with blood— the infected gathered on the shore to feast on the bodies slowly being washed up by the tide.

The pogues had found you by week six, your body curled on the pier by the Chateau crying into your hands having lost everyone you’d ever known. You were sure to soon perish— no supplies, no weapons, no food. Life had become bleak, hopeless — until for the first time in your life you’d felt the cold barrel of a pistol pressed to the back of your head.

“Who are you and why are you out here?” Kiara barks, a khaki green bandana tied to cover her nose and mouth.

“I’m— i’m just looking for shelter. I don’t have any weapons on me I swear I’m safe, please just —”

“Are you bit?”

“No!”

“Turn around.”

When you slowly turn, you’re met with two female faces, one more familiar than the other. Besides Kiara stands Sarah Cameron— a girl you went to school with. She looks more unsure than Carerra, hand resting on the pocket knife wedging out of the waistband to her denim shorts.

“I don’t think she’s bit Kie… hey, I think I know this girl.”

It was Sarah who had convinced Kiara to bring you back to the Chateau and let you stay. It was also Sarah who got you accustomed, explaining the role everyone played. She was a negotiator, her social ranking in the old world aiding her in communicating with people outside of the barricades they’d made. Kie was in charge of supplies, stock take and recruiting. She decided who was in and who was out. Pope was the brains, did all the mathematical equations to help the group understand their circumstances and chances of survival better. JJ, a fighter — most skilled in dealing with firearms and building bombs, which came in pretty handy when clearing out what was left of Kitty Hawk. John B was their leader, he often came up with the main strategies and stuck his neck out on the line.

Everyone was their own cog in the well oiled machine they’d built to aid them in surviving an apocalypse. It was uncertain what you could bring to the group until you’d mentioned that you’d been studying to be a nurse.

“S’good thing you come in useful ‘cus I was totally gonna suggest we use you as bait. Y’know, cos of the whole doe eyed damsel in distress thing you got goin’ on.” JJ jests with a smirk, and you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you to make sure you knew he was only kidding around.

You became a lot more useful for patching people up once you’d cleared out Kitty Hawk. The pogues and yourself had began to collect a larger group of survivors, creating a small town to live in what once was the behavioural-correctional camp. You’d collected gardeners, seamstresses, doctors — people of all ages looking for shelter and safety to live in the many dormitories the land had to offer. You had the evening shifts, patching up any runners that had return from their time outside of the gates with injuries.

You remember the day Sarah got bit so clearly.

The Twinkie had come barrelling through the gates so fast, the townspeople that protected the entrances barely getting them open in time before the vehicle was speeding in— Kiara and John B ushering the blonde out the doors yelling out for you urgently with devastation in their voices, begging you to amputate the arm she’d been bitten on.

The pogues had gone for what was promised to be a civil meeting with Ward and Rafe Cameron. The two had taken over what was left of Kildare, creating a strong colony in a gated community that Ward had just come into possession of right before the outbreak. They were feared, respected — and they wanted Sarah to return to them.

Of course, the meeting was a set up— and when Sarah had refused to go with them — they opened fire, attracting rogue infected to swarm in on the group. In the chaos, Sarah was bitten — and JJ in a fit of rage had shot Ward Cameron straight through the skull infront of his only son. This started an all out war.

You recall arriving to Sarah, and your heart sinking. It was definitely too late, her eyes blood shot and skin uncharacteristically pale. She was whispering “Its okay.” Over and over. You wasn’t sure if she was convincing you or herself.

Kiara took her out to the forest to put her out of her misery before she got the chance to turn into one of the brainless monsters that had existed outside the gates. She was stronger than you could ever be, holding back her tears as she aims the barrel to the blondes head. You weren’t there, but you heard the gunshot as you were patching up JJ who was skimmed by a bullet. You slept by his side that night without uttering a word about it.

Everyone got a little more serious from that point on. You often stared at the heart with her initials she’d carved into her old bunkbed that now sits empty in her dorm, her things laid out like she was still coming back to collect them one day. John B got a little more stern as a leader, over protective of you as he made it clear he didn’t believe you’d be able to protect yourself out there — banning you from leaving the gates. JJ became a more ferocious fighter, busying himself with target practice out in the forest shooting bullseyes each day to ensure he could quickly take down whoever he needed to. Pope got more reserved, more moody — hanging out by himself infront of maps or in the radio room with Kie trying to find new survivors. Occasionally, just occasionally — the bunch of you would get together and drink round a camp fire. Things would feel normal again, just for one night — the group laughing and telling stories the same way they might have done before the outbreak.

You wondered how long this could last, if there was ever an end to any of this. You also wondered if there was a reason to it all happening, if you were being punished for the way you’d behaved as human beings. Mostly though, on a day to day basis— you wondered when Rafe Cameron would return for his revenge. It was only a matter of time.

#jj maybank prompt #john b prompt #rafe cameron prompt #pope heyward prompt #apocalypse!au

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doormatty3 · 4 months

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Ocean Eyes: Chapter 2 (Orm Marius x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Ocean Eyes Masterlink

Summary:

[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]

The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands. You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour. After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue.

OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock

Wordcount: 5412

The car ride is short and comfortable, the rhythmic hum of the engine accompanying the shared silence between you and Orm.

As the landscape glides past, Orm’s gaze remains fixed on the passing scenery, lost in contemplation. His hand rests firmly on your thigh, and his fingertips trace seemingly random patterns.

Arriving at the burger place near the ocean, you find yourself on a charming pier that extends gracefully over the water. It exudes a quaint and cosy charm, offering both indoor and outdoor seating. You have been here before and hope that Orm will also like it.

You leave the car and notice the bustling atmosphere, a lively mix of people enjoying the seaside ambience. Families, friends, and couples populate the area, creating a vibrant tapestry of seaside enjoyment.

As you lead Orm towards the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you can’t help but notice his gaze wandering, taking in the atmosphere. His eyes seem to absorb the sights, sounds, and smells, curious as if he’s never seen something like that.

A subtle feeling creeps in - that Orm appears somewhat out of place again. There’s something about him, a quality that sets him apart and makes him seem almost otherworldly. You find yourself unable to put your finger on precisely what it is. Still, it lingers in the periphery of your awareness like a gentle whisper of intrigue that tugs at your curiosity.

Perhaps it’s his regal demeanour or how he seems to observe the world with a depth that transcends the ordinary. You scold yourself inwardly to stop thinking about that - it’s probably nothing, only the quirks of a person adapting to unfamiliar surroundings.

As you reach the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you turn to Orm and ask, “Would you like to sit inside or outside?”

There’s a momentary pause, and he seems to grapple with the options as if the distinction between the two is a puzzle he’s attempting to solve for the first time.

Orm stammers slightly before responding, “Uh, outside, if that’s... if that’s fine with you.” His words carry a hint of uncertainty, as though he’s seeking your approval or guidance in navigating this seemingly simple choice.

“Sure. I like to sit at the water more anyway,” you smile at Orm and then turn to the waitress, “Table for two, please, outside if possible.”

The waitress nods, responding, “Yes, please follow me.”

She leads you through the lively pier and sits you at a charming table by the seaside, offering a nice view of the ocean that stretches before you.

As you and Orm settle into your seats, the waitress hands you the menu. With a polite smile, she inquires, “Any allergies?”

You shake your head in response and notice Orm appearing momentarily puzzled, as if the question threw him off again. Eventually, he follows suit and shakes his head.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. Or do you already know what you want to drink?” the waitress asks, her friendly demeanour adding a pleasant touch to the dining experience.

“I’ll go with a coke,” you tell her with a smile. She nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention to Orm.

“Do you have Guinness?” he asks, his words flowing more fluently this time as if finding comfort in the familiarity of the beverage.

“Yes, sir, we do,” the waitress responds.

“Great, then I’ll take that,” Orm says with a decisive nod.

The waitress acknowledges the order with a nod of her own and then gracefully walks away, leaving you and Orm to view the menu.

You already know what you will be eating: a classic cheeseburger with extra bacon and hand-cut fries, So you cast your gaze to look at the sea, zoning out for a bit and losing yourself in the rhythmic movement of the water.

Orm’s voice interrupts your brief reverie, bringing you back to the present. “So, what’s your fascination with the ocean?” he inquires, his eyes fixed on you with genuine curiosity.

“Hm?” is your thoughtful response, a momentary delay as you process his question and look at him before answering, “I am a marine biologist - so it’s just everything for me.”

You cast your gaze at the sea again, watching the waves as you continue to speak, “For as long as I can remember, I have had a strong love and appreciation for the ocean - of the life beneath the surface, the ecosystem, the marine creatures.”

The sea breeze tousles your hair as you express your love for the sea.

“I think most of my fascination is with the unknown and the many misconceptions people have about the ocean and its inhabitants.” The reflection of the sunlight on the water mirrors the spark in your eyes and you pause for a short moment before continuing, “That they think some animals are just inherently evil. But we - as humans- could learn so much from the ocean if we would just listen .”

You scoff, a touch of frustration colours your voice as you continue, “But they don’t and continue to pollute the waters - kill the life beneath the surface. Destroy ecosystems.”

Your eyes find Orm’s again; he watches you intently, a glint in his eye that you haven’t seen before.

”That’s why I do what I do - to help them see. To help preserve life. There is so much that could be done, but many people don’t know how - and it’s my job to educate them.”

“That’s a noble profession, an honourable calling,” Orm remarks, his blue eyes warm and calm like the ocean void of wind, “But don’t you think it is in vain? Do you really think they can learn?”

“Yes,” your response is immediate and resolute, “No one is inherently evil. But a lot of people lack a sense of direction… And once shown, they adapt and do what they can to better themselves.”

You share a smile with Orm, sensing that he just understands what you mean.

The moment, however, is gently interrupted by the arrival of the waitress, gracefully bearing your drinks.

“Coca-Cola?” she asks, and you raise your hand, replying, “For me.”

She places the drinks in front of you before she speaks again, pen poised over her notepad, “What do you want to eat?”

“A cheeseburger with extra bacon and fries,” you declare, and Orm promptly seconds your choice. The waitress, a warm smile gracing her lips, takes note of your order and retreats.

Orm, with a thoughtful expression, breaks the silence. “You truly believe people can change, then?”

You meet his gaze, the sea breeze playing with your hair. “Absolutely,” you respond. “It’s not about convincing everyone at once. It’s about starting a ripple, making a difference where you can. Education and understanding can be powerful catalysts for change.”

Orm nods, his blue eyes reflecting both curiosity and agreement. “It sounds like you’re on a mission.”

A chuckle escapes you. “Perhaps. But it’s a mission worth undertaking, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely,” Orm answers, a smile on his lips as he looks at you intensely, making you blush. He leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “What led you to this path?” he asks, his curiosity evident.

You take a sip of your drink, contemplating the question. “I suppose it was a childhood fascination with the sea. The mysteries it holds, the life beneath its surface. As I grew older, I realised the urgency of preserving that beauty, of correcting the misconceptions that threaten it.”

Orm listens attentively, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “It takes a special kind of dedication to devote your life to something so vast and, at times, misunderstood.”

“The ocean has a way of making you feel both small and connected. It’s a journey of discovery, and every day brings something new,” you tell him, a wistful smile gracing your lips.

You continue to talk, the sun beginning its descent, casting a golden glow over your conversation. The rays seem to elevate Orm’s features, and you can’t help but notice the way his straight nose and defined cheekbones are beautifully illuminated. His blonde hair, still sitting a bit tousled on his head, catches the sunlight and shines in the golden hues.

His blue eyes look impossibly deep in the light; it feels as if the vastness of the ocean is mirrored in his gaze, and you find yourself captivated by the shifting shades within his irises. You feel like if you concentrate enough, you could watch the sunset in them, and they would mirror the exact way the water looks right now – a harmonious blend of oranges, pinks, violets, and cerulean blues.

The waitress arrives with your much-anticipated meals, placing them on the table. Both of you express gratitude with a simultaneous “Thank you.”

You pick up your burger, the warmth radiating from it, and take a satisfying bite. As you savour the taste, you glance over at Orm, curious to see his reaction - if he likes the place you have chosen.

Orm approaches his meal with a hint of anticipation, taking a tentative bite from his burger. Watching him eat is mesmerising - he chews slowly and deliberately as he processes the combination of flavours. A drop of sauce finds its way to the corner of his lip, and with an unconscious grace, he catches it with his tongue.

You observe him nodding appreciatively, his brows lifting slightly in a silent gesture of approval. It’s as if he has just discovered a hidden treasure, and the delightful taste seems to resonate with him. Watching him eat makes you feel like he never had a burger because he looks so genuinely fascinated by it.

He is rather cute right now, and you like how he can be so regal and serious but also so sweet and goofy.

Choosing to shift your focus, you return to your own meal, eating a few fries.

In the corner of your eye, you notice a cockroach making its way across the table. Just as you prepare to intervene, your gaze shifts to Orm, who, in a swift and unexpected move, catches the intruder in his large hand, examining it with a curious expression.

A moment of concern sets in as Orm flexes his fingers, bringing the roach closer to his burger. You fear this might lead to a deadly consequence for the uninvited guest, that Orm may crush it.

Acting on impulse, you speak up, “Don’t kill it.”

Orm looks at you with a puzzled expression and stills in his motion with the roach still cradled in his hand. You take the opportunity to pluck the roach from his fingers gently. Bowing down, you release it onto the ground, allowing it to run away freely.

You find Orm still looking at you with curious eyes and feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks, you mumble, “I don’t like to kill insects, even if they’re annoying.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Respecting all forms of life, even the tiny ones. That’s commendable.”

“Yes, I mean, some of them at least have a use to the ecosystem, and some you can even eat. Both don’t apply to cockroaches though, sadly,” you elaborate under his intensive gaze.

Orm blinks a few times as if processing your words, and then he inquires, “I heard that cockroaches are something that is eaten.”

You shake your head, offering a slight grin, “Nah. Crickets and stuff, yes, but not cockroaches since they are known to carry and spread diseases.”

He gives you a tight-lipped grin, the expression not quite reaching his eyes as he takes another bite from his burger.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask him, a hint of concern in your voice - his reaction worries you.

His response is immediate as he lays down the burger and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “No. No. Not at all.” His blue eyes reflect sincerity and openness. “I was just caught off guard since I thought differently. But everything is fine.”

You smile, relieved by his reassurance, squeezing his hand slightly. “Thank you, Orm.”

As you both finish your meals in comfortable silence, the lighting on the pier gradually comes to life, and they begin to flicker one after another, creating a gentle, welcoming ambience.

It casts a subtle radiance on Orm’s features, the regal quality becoming more pronounced as the gentle play of shadows enhances the lines of his face.

Orm’s gaze wanders, absorbing the evolving spectacle of lights around the pier. His eyes, reflecting the warm glow, sweep across the surroundings, capturing the flickering bulbs, the gentle sway of boats, and the distant outlines of structures bathed in the soft radiance of the evening.

A subtle appreciation plays on his features as he takes in the scene, and you find yourself captivated by the way his eyes navigate the transformed pier.

The waitress returns to your table, a friendly smile on her face as she collects the empty plates. She glances at both of you. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

Your eyes meet Orm’s briefly, and then you turn back to the waitress, “No, thank you. Just the bill, please.”

With a nod, the waitress acknowledges your request, “Alright, I’ll bring that right over.” She takes the empty plates and heads back toward the bustling interior of the restaurant.

The waitress returns with the bill, a small leather folder clasped in her hand. Opening it to reveal the receipt, she glances between you and Orm, asking, “Will you be paying together, or should I split it?”

Before you can respond, Orm steps in, a subtle determination in his voice, “I’ll take care of it.”

You shoot him a grateful look but quickly add, “Orm, you really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insists, his eyes, intense and unwavering, meet yours.

A warmth settles in your chest at his insistence, and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks in response to his intensity.

The waitress informs him of the total cost, and Orm reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins. The currency appears unfamiliar - distinctive, with intricate patterns and unique markings, causing both you and the waitress to exchange curious glances.

Breaking the momentary silence, the waitress gently informs Orm, “Sorry, we only accept dollars here, not foreign currency.”

An almost imperceptible furrow forms on Orm’s brow as he looks down at the money in his hand, and a moment of realisation dawns upon him. You can almost sense his internal struggle, caught between the unfamiliarity of the situation and the desire to settle the bill.

Without saying anything or making a huge deal, you smoothly reach into your wallet, pulling out enough dollars to cover the bill and a generous tip. With a friendly smile, you hand the money to the waitress.

“Have a good evening,” you add warmly, and the waitress reciprocates the sentiment. As she departs, you turn your attention back to Orm, offering an encouraging smile.

Orm’s eyes meet yours, appreciative yet carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry,” Orm says, a tinge of frustration and embarrassment evident in his voice. “I forgot about that.”

You respond with a reassuring smile, and without a second thought, you reach out, brushing your hand gently over his cheek. When you see the way his eyes widen a bit and he looks at you in wonder, you know that it was the right call.

“Oh, don’t worry, I get it,” you assure him, your fingers tracing the contours of his cheek, noting the texture of his stubble beneath your touch and the warmth he emanates. “You can get the next one,” you suggest, pulling back your hand.

Orm responds with a toothy smile, genuine and warm, the expression reaching all the way to his eyes.

You both get up and leave the restaurant to stroll along the pier, your hand brushing on Orms as you walk. Part of you would like to just take his hand - you have kissed, after all, but you’re not sure if that’s fine for him.

“So, by being from far away, you meant Europe then?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you as that was the first thing that came to mind.

Orm nods in agreement, and you decide not to press further, sensing his reluctance to delve into the topic.

The pier gradually becomes less crowded as you and Orm move towards its edge, and the rhythmic sound of the waves beneath grows louder in turn. The lights along the pier continue to illuminate the surroundings, creating a gentle glow that adds to the enchanting atmosphere.

The sky, now mainly adorned in shades of deep blue, cradles the last remnants of daylight along the horizon. A narrow strip of it retains a warm afterglow, casting the tranquil sea in a soft gleam.

You and Orm come to a halt as you reach the end of the pier, overlooking the water.

The sea reflects the transitioning sky, creating a mesmerising dance of colours on its surface. As the daylight wanes, the sea takes on a deep, mysterious navy blue, mirroring the vast expanse above. The rhythmic movements of the waves hold a subtle elegance, their crests catching the remnants of sunlight and transforming them into liquid silver.

The small ripples sparkle in the fading light, creating a celestial reflection that mirrors the ever-changing hues of the sky and the soft lights on the pier.

As you stand at the edge of the sea together, gazing out into the expansive ocean, Orm takes your hand - warm, large, and unexpectedly soft with his long fingers.

Reflecting on the day, you realise it has been unexpectedly beautiful - it still is. When you first met Orm on the beach, you couldn’t have anticipated this.

You have never met someone who shares the same profound love for the sea, but with him, it is a connection that flows effortlessly like a smooth, unhurried river.

Orm’s voice, quiet yet resonant, breaks the stillness. “Thank you,” he says, his eyes fixed on the ever-moving sea.

You turn to face him, your own expression reflecting curiosity. “For what?” you inquire, uncertain about the reason for his gratitude.

“For the day,” he responds, his gaze still tethered to the horizon. The soft glow of twilight illuminates his features, allowing you to trace the contours of his side profile with your eyes.

A genuine smile graces your lips as you squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, unsure of how to respond.

The comfortable silence wraps around you, lingering for a moment before you gather the courage to break it.

“It doesn’t have to be over yet, you know,” you say, the words escaping your lips with a hint of nervous excitement.

Orm turns his head swiftly to face you, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you continue, feeling a bit breathless, “I think you’d like the aquarium I own.”

Your heart beats a bit faster because, oh god, you just invited Orm over to your place - handsome and a tad strange Orm, with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.

A warm smile graces Orm’s features as he nods in agreement. “Lead the way.”

______

Street lanterns and the soft glow of stars guide the way as you drive over the coastal road to your house.

As you approach, the one-story building comes into view, overlooking the ocean below, with stairs leading down to a dock, a garage for water vessels and the beach. Even in the dark, it is apparent that it is made from dark wood that harmonises with the natural surroundings.

“Well, here we are,” you say to Orm and turn off the engine after you park your car.

Both of you step out, and you watch as Orm takes in the details of your house.

“This is really nice,” he says, looking at you, a fondness in his blue eyes.

“Thank you,” you reply, smiling. “Wait until you see the inside.”

With that, you lead the way to the door, unlocking it to welcome both of you inside. Turning on the lights, you close the door behind Orm before taking off your shoes.

You notice a brief moment of confusion on Orm’s face, his brows furrowed as if he’s perplexed by the act of removing shoes indoors. Nonetheless, he follows your example, mirroring your actions with a subtle curiosity.

You love your house, as it’s a reflection of who you are. The walls are adorned with various pictures and paintings, capturing scenic views and wildlife scenes. A massive windowfront facing the sea with garden furniture outside offers a serene spot for looking at the ocean. For rainy days, you have a cosy sofa perfectly positioned to enjoy the view.

Orm’s eyes wander around your home, curiosity evident in his gaze. They trace over the pictures, examining the various trinkets and charms that give your house its character. His gaze eventually settles on the highlight of your home - a huge aquarium that spans an entire wall.

When you built it, you decided upon those dimensions to allow for a diverse and thriving marine ecosystem.

As the overhead lights cast a gentle glow, the aquarium reveals a spectrum of colours and movements. Coral formations, in various shapes and hues, provide shelter for a multitude of fish. Small, darting figures in every shade imaginable navigate the intricate structure, their scales catching the light and creating a dazzling dance of colours. Seahorses, graceful and delicate, cling to the swaying fronds of seaweed.

The water, crystal clear and carefully maintained, magnifies the beauty of the inhabitants within. Anemones sway in the gentle current, and schools of fish move in unison, creating an ever-shifting symphony of aquatic life. It’s a tranquil yet lively spectacle that brings the wonders of the ocean directly into your home.

As Orm moves closer to the aquarium, his eyes fixate on the intricate details of the underwater world. The gentle hum of the water filter provides a soothing backdrop to the vibrant display. His gaze traces the contours of coral formations, follows the movements of fish, and lingers on the seahorses.

You watch as he leans in a bit as if drawn into the underwater realm. The overhead lights cast a subtle glow on his features. For a moment, the regal air about him softens, and you see a genuine sense of wonder in his eyes.

“Wow,” he says, his voice hushed in awe, “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

You can’t help but smile as you respond, “I’m glad you like it.”

As you both stand there, watching the aquarium, you notice that the soft glow from it reflects in Orm’s eyes, creating a harmonious blend of colours.

“It’s like having a piece of the ocean at home,” you add, happy to share this with someone who appreciates it as much as you.

Orm slowly turns away from the mesmerising aquarium, his eyes still reflecting the underwater spectacle.

With a gentle yet firm touch, Orm reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel a magnetic pull drawing you closer. His blue eyes lock onto yours, searching for something in the depths of your gaze, and you swallow dryly.

Closing the distance, he leans in, and his kiss is soft and deliberate. Responding instinctively, your hands find their place on his strong shoulders, fingers tracing the contours of his well-defined muscles.

He hums pleased and deepens it, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer into his thick frame. You taste hints of the cheeseburger he enjoyed, the lingering notes of the beer he had, and something uniquely him that defies easy description but is absolutely delicious.

The warmth of Orm’s embrace envelops you, and his hands, initially gentle, now hold you with a firm and possessive grip. There’s an undeniable urgency in the way he pulls you closer as if trying to bridge any remaining distance.

He begins to trail a series of kisses down your neck, each touch leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. As he reaches the junction between your neck and shoulder, he pauses, sinking his teeth into your skin with a sharp intensity. A quiet hiss escapes your lips, and your grip on his shoulders tightens in response. Orm soothes the sensation with the caress of his tongue before resuming the journey upward, placing gentle kisses along the column of your throat and inhaling your scent.

“Orm,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in his hair, gently guiding his head back up to meet your lips in another kiss. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you can’t help but register how soft his hair feels beneath your touch.

Orm’s hands explore your body with heightened intensity, each touch sending a wave of heat through the fabric of your clothes.

When he pulls back, his breath comes out in heavy, rhythmic waves. His hair is already tousled from your fingers running through it, and his eyes, fiery blue, reflect the intensity of the moment, while his lips bear the deliciously pinkened evidence of your shared kisses.

Breaking the silence, Orm speaks with a low and surprisingly severe voice, “Do you want to take this somewhere else?” His gaze shifts to the aquarium, and his expression suggests a genuine concern. “I’d rather not have spectators.”

A surprised chuckle escapes you as you realise Orm might actually be serious about the fish in the aquarium. You raise an eyebrow, playfully questioning, “Spectators, really?”

Orm nods with a solemn expression and a faint smirk, adding, “They’re judging eyes.”

You can’t help but burst into laughter again, shaking your head. “Okay, let’s get somewhere private, then.” You guide him towards the bedroom, wondering if the fish truly appreciate the unexpected concern for their modesty.

The fleeting thoughts quickly dissipate as Orm is on you again, his lips finding yours in a deep and fervent kiss before he buries his face in your neck, leaving wet kisses that send shivers down your spine.

Pressing against him, you feel the heat radiating from his body and the firmness of his muscles as well as his hard cock. You grind your hips harder on his groin, desperate for some friction and more of the electric spark that every touch from Orm seems to give you.

You physically feel him groan into your skin, a deep, feral sound that reverberates through his chest.

Suddenly, you feel frenzied to get him out of his clothes, to see him naked, to touch his skin. So you tuck on his shirt, pulling it upwards.

Orm, getting the hint, separates from you and takes it off, letting it fall to the floor.

Before you have time to appreciate his naked upper body, he lets his hands wander under the hem of your shirt to pull it off you, too - which you let him do without resistance.

Then, with a sudden and assertive move, Orm grabs you by the shoulders, guiding you towards the bed. The motion catches you off guard; the change in him is so quick that you don’t have time to react.

Orm’s mouth descends upon yours again, a cascade of passionate kisses and teasing nips at your lips as he bites down on your bottom lip before running his tongue over it.

As the back of your knees meets the edge of the bed, he pushes you down, and you find yourself lying on your back.

Finally, you have time to appreciate his form.

As Orm stands before you, the soft glow of the room’s dim light dances over the planes of his body, creating a mesmerising interplay of shadows and highlights.

Orm’s hair is tousled, a delightful disarray from your previous encounters and frames his face in a way that adds a hint of wildness to his regal appearance. The light dances on the strands, highlighting the varied shades of blonde.

His eyes, an intensely deep shade of blue, seem to capture the ambient light like the ocean capturing the moon’s glow. The fire within those eyes hasn’t diminished; if anything, it has intensified, turning them into pools of desire and unrestrained passion.

His physique, chiselled with remarkable precision, seems almost otherworldly in its perfection.

The defined lines of his muscles catch your attention, each one sculpted to perfection as if carven by a Greek master aeons ago. The play of shadows accentuates the curves of his arms, the contours of his chest, and the lines of his abdomen. Every movement he makes is a testament to the vigour and elegance that defines him.

Your eyes trace the contours of Orm’s arms. The sight of his substantial biceps commands your focus, the muscles rippling with strength and power. Your gaze follows the prominent vein that courses along the expanse of his arm, tracing its path down to his forearms.

The play of light and shadow accentuates every curve and crevice, revealing a level of physicality that borders on the divine.

The forearms subtly flex with each miniature movement, a testament to the latent strength within. Your gaze lingers on his hands, large and commanding, the fingers thick and long. There’s a certain elegance in the way those hands move, a grace that contradicts their sheer size and power.

Moving lower, your attention shifts to his defined chest that expands with each breath. You marvel at the expansive breadth of his pectoral muscles. The perfect symmetry of his six-pack draws your gaze, each abdominal muscle pronounced and sculpted.

Your focus descends even lower, and you see the way his cock is straining against the fabric of his pants, the bulge prominent. You swallow and involuntarily lick your lips in anticipation.

Desperate to feel his skin, you reach out to touch Orm’s chest.

His muscles are firm and warm beneath your touch as you trace idle patterns.

You’d have expected him to touch you now and let his fingers wander over your bare skin, but he seems to have frozen. So you look up to meet his eyes - instead of that fiery passion, they now carry a hint of uncertainty.

Orm’s gaze wanders between you and the surroundings as if grappling with elusive thoughts that demand his attention. The intensity that coloured his actions moments ago wavers, leaving behind a quiet vulnerability that puzzles you.

You furrow your brows. What happened to that intense, headstrong man who felt like an unwavering current?

His hair frames his face, and the blue of his eyes, though still vibrant, now mirrors a spectrum of emotions. There’s a depth to his expression, a silent turmoil beneath the surface, a vortex consuming him, pulling him under.

As you study Orm’s features, you sense the weight of something unsaid, and you feel it radiating off him in waves.

Your fingertips gently brush against Orm’s cheek as you reach out in a tender gesture. “Are you okay?” you inquire softly, searching his eyes for any sign of what might be troubling him.

His response is delayed, a moment of hesitation that lingers in the air. Sensing his reluctance to share, you decide to act on a more intuitive level. You reach out and pull him towards you so he also rests on the bed, cradled in your embrace.

“I’m here,” you murmur, the words whispered against his ear as you hold him close.

Orm shudders against you, his breath grazing your bare skin. It’s evident that he wrestles with unspoken thoughts, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue.

So you decide to lift the weight on his shoulders, and you offer a simple directive, “Let’s just sleep for now. No need to worry about anything.”

As he nestles into your embrace - finally returning it - the tension dissipates from his body, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your shared warmth.

Your fingers continue their soothing patterns on his back, a gentle effort to anchor him and not let him be adrift in the sea of his thoughts until you both fall asleep.

The last coherent thought lingering in your mind is that you wouldn’t mind having more moments like this with him - moments that make you feel safe, whole, and strangely content. Only when you feel the soft warmth of his smile against your neck, followed by a tender kiss, you realise that you’ve spoken out loud.

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gejo333 · 2 months

Text

An Unexpected Match XII

Pt. 1

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

18+ Warning

Summary: What does Miguel have up his sleeve during this graduation vacation gift?🤔

OMG, I am so so so sorry that I haven’t updated in a while. I moved abroad so I’ve been adjusting these past weeks. Also this chapter is extremely long which was another reason for the delay. Another reason might be that I know this story only has a few chapters left before it’s over🥺 so I want to savor it more.

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.

Enjoy!💕

Wc: 8.5k

————————————————————————

Luckily you only were taking two classes for your last semester of college, as you were able to still keep high grades even though you were recovering from the accident.

Over the course of those weeks you did have to testify in court for the kidnapping and endangerment of Gabi and the attempted murder on you by Sofia. Although you kept your composure, you wouldn't deny that you were grinning from ear to ear to see her in an orange jump suite and cuffs looking miserable.

Today was your graduation and luckily you had healed enough that you weren't limping anymore and you could wear the heels you had bought months ago specifically for your graduation dress.

You looked in the mirror of the bathroom making sure your makeup, hair, and outfit stilled looked just as good as it did back at home. Though you were excited to finally get your degree with your piers your nerves were going through the roof. What you really wanted was to be at the graduation dinner with your boyfriend, daughter, brothers and best friend. You decided to still invite your parents, not being that cruel to not let them see you graduate. But you really didn't want to interact with them, which you knew sadly will not go your way. You feel bad for Miguel as he has no choice but to sit next to them. You hope your brothers were in between him and your father.

"You look fabulous!" You turned to see Stephanie as she walked into to the bathroom also wearing a dress with the cap and gown.

"You look amazing too, Steph!" You smile as you hug her before she checks herself in the mirror just like you had done. She took out her mascara she hid in her small purse as she touched up her eyelashes.

"Girl, I can't believe we're graduating! It's insane. You're going to work at Alchamex and I'm going to grad school here. Super excited for the next chapter in our lives! Especially for you girlie, I think I hear wedding bells in your near future." Stephanie smirked as she looked at you.

"First off, I don't know if I got into Alchamex yet. I should hear next week. And you really think he might propose?" Your cheeks turn pink as your smile widens to the thought of Miguel proposing.

"You're definitely getting that job. And I have this feeling. Like maybe sometime this summer he'll do it. Damn girl I don't think either one of us would have thought that one of us might be married before 25." Stephanie chuckled.

"Well, we don't know he's going to propose. But like it's not like it hasn't been talked about." You check the time on your phone as you take a deep breath before sighing nervously. "It's time to line up."

You and Stephanie line up, her one person a head of you. She turns around smiling both anxious and excited which you return before the announcer begins the commencement.

As you walked out on to the lawn and towards your seat you looked around in hopes to catch Miguel's gaze. Sadly you couldn't find him as the audience was far too large. You made it to your seat, sitting down while you listen to the speaker.

After some time had passed they finally begin to call out names as people begin to line up. Your heart begin to beat quicker as the line continues to get closer to the stage before you know it, you heard Stephanie's name being called as she walked on to the stage to receive her degree.

"Y/n L/N." Spoke out the announcer. You smiled as you walked up on to the stage to receive your degree. The crowd cheered as they did for everyone. You hoped to have caught a glimpse of your people, but sadly you couldn't spot them.

After getting back to your seat you sit with jitters the rest of the commencement as you want to go see Gabi and Miguel.

After another two hours, finally the time came for everyone to reunite with their loved ones.

"Ahh we did it!" Said Stephanie as she holds up her degree which you join her in as you both scream in excitement. You both then make your way through the crowd to try and find your group. Of course it wasn't too hard as your 6'9" boyfriend stuck out from the crowd. You grab Stephanie's hand as you guide her towards the group. Once you got closer, Miguel's eyes locked on you as his smile widened.

You quickly get to him as he opens one of his arms wide, the other carrying Gabi who was wearing a matching colored dress to yours with a pretty headband. You wrap one of your arms around his waist.

"Mama! I saw you on the stage! I waved!"

"I wish I was able to see you, but there were just so many people. I love this dress. It's so cute." You smile as you caress her cheek.

"We match!" She smiled excitedly.

"We do! I love it." You smile at her lovingly.

"Ok ok, it's time for Papa to congratulate you now." Miguel chuckled as he leaned down and captured his plush lips with yours before pulling away. "Congratulations, mi amor."

"Congratulations y/n. Welcome to the real world." Said your older brother Jack as he came over with Stephanie by his side.

"Thanks Jack. So should we head out."

"Not yet. Mom and Dad want to see you real quick and congratulate you." Said Liam as he walked up to the group, followed by your parents. Even after your accident your relationship with them is still on thin ice. If they just accepted your relationship with Miguel then you would be more than happy to forgive them. However as they join the group their smiles falter as they glance over to Miguel.

"Congratulations sweetie, we're so proud of you. All that hard work really paid off." Said your mother as she tries to hug you which you awkwardly accept.

"Thanks." A half-smile was awkwardly placed on your lips. "I'm lucky I was able to finish this year." You couldn't help yourself from saying the snide comment.

"Well you understand our reason why." Added your father.

"And you understand why I'm going to continue to ignore you both."

"It's just ridiculous, it's so hard to attend local events because of-" your mother went off before she was interrupted by Miguel.

"It's getting close to our dinner reservation, so we're going to go." Miguel lost his smile as he stared down at your parents.

"Fine. Can we at least see you for dinner tomorrow or Sunday to celebrate?" Your mother offered. You sighed about to accept it, so that they'll be off you back off for a while, however before you could Miguel spoke up.

"Actually she won't be available this weekend." You looked up to him brows furrowed, curious to his response. He sighed before looking at you with a loving smile. "I was going to surprise you later with your gift, but you and I are going on a weekend vacation." Your eyes widen as a surprised smile replaces your awkward one.

"Can I ask where?" You chuckle.

"Sorry Cariño that's a surprise." Miguel chuckled as he kissed the side of your head.

"Well, we're going to leave." Said your Mother with an unamused expression as she and your father left. "Liam come on." She added.

"But I want to go out with them." Liam complained.

"Listen to your mother Liam." Added your father.

"Dad it's fine. I'll pay for him and drop him off." Offered Jack.

"Fine. Be back by 8." Your father said before catching up with your mother.

"Ok let's get these solemn faces some food and liquor to celebrate y/n and I graduating." Cheered Stephanie which made everyone smile and laugh as you all head to your designated cars to head to the restaurant.

Dinner with your brothers, best friend, and family to celebrate was great, but eventually it had to end as you all went on your way back home.

Miguel opened the front door, letting you go in first as you were carrying the sleeping Gabi. You both went upstairs as you helped change Gabi into her pjs before tucking her into bed. Both you and Miguel sit there on the bed gazing at her peaceful state.

"Is it possible to have her stay the way she is?" You whisper as you gently brush some of her hair away from her face.

"I wish there was a way." Miguel replied as he smiled down at her before placing a kiss to her forehead and standing up from the bed. After you repeated the gesture he held his hand out for you to take and help you off the bed, just out of kindness and for some contact with you.

You both walk back to your shared bedroom as you take a seat on the edge of the bed to rest for a second, as the exhaustion starts to take a toll on you. Miguel comes out of his closet, shirt unbutton, revealing his chiseled chest, which you couldn't help but glance at with a small blushing smile.

"You like what you see?" Miguel chuckled as he made his way over to you and sat next to you before putting your legs on his lap.

"I do." You grin as you get on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Miguel places his arms around you to bring you closer.

"Hey, I have something to tell you." Miguel smile was wide and infectious as you smiled back at him.

"What is it? It must be good if you're smiling like that."

"I got a call from Jess my colleague at work. She said you got the job."

Your face turns to surprise before smiling again. "Omg, no way. Really?! I thought I wasn't suppose to find out until next week?" You hug Miguel which makes you both fall onto the bed, both laughing. You ended up straddled on his lap. You leaned down and kissed him. While distracted he flipped you around on the bed so he was above you.

"I might have pulled some strings to get your response sooner. Jess said that your resume was phenomenal. Actually you were the top person out of the people selected." He said before leaning down to kiss you. "Now you are stuck with me." He added placing another kiss to your lips.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." You chuckle as you happily return his kiss, You wrap your arms around his neck to deepen it and savor the taste of his lips.

"We should get some rest we have to wake up early to catch our flight. And Gabriel is probably going to be here earlier than planned." Miguel sighed giving you one last kiss before laying next to you and pulling you against his side, resting your head on his chest. You turn your head to look up at him.

"Where are you taking me Mr. O'Hara?" You smile as you trace your finger over his chest and abs.

"Like I said before, it's a surprise, cariño. You will find out when we get there." Miguel chuckled from your teasing tone.

Your hand trail down his abdomen where you loosened his belt and pants, and lowering your hand into his boxers. A sigh escaped his lips as your wrapped your hand around his half-erect cock. You begin to move your hand, " will this convince you to tell me?" You batted your eye lashes at him, which made him chuckle lightly as he relaxed against your touch.

"Sorry hermosa. Not telling you. But you can continue with what you're doing though." Miguel whispered in your ear. You smile as your roll your eyes from his response. You lower his boxer so his now erect cock, dripping with pre-cum bounced out against his stomach. "You're lucky I've been so horny lately since I was only cleared this week to be able to have sex again." You chuckle as you straddle him, positioning him before you lowered yourself as you let out a moan. Miguel rest his hands on your hips as he begins to thrust up into you instantly hitting your sweet spot.

"It has been a very fun week since that check-up." Miguel chuckled as he let out a groan. Not being allowed to have sex for so long during your recovery, making each time this week even more sensational. As soon as the doctor had cleared you, both you and Miguel couldn't even make it back to the house, fucking on the sink in the private bathrooms in the hospital and once in the car in the garage before barely making it to the bedroom. Let's just say neither of you have had any rest this week.

You move your hips along with his. You throw your head back as you feel his tip hit against your cervix. "Fuck I missed feeling you so much. God you're still tight even though I've been fucking you non-stop this week."

Miguel's grip on your hips grew stronger as he fucked you faster, making the knot in your stomach grow tighter and release as you let out a breathy moan. "Miguel."

Your voice sent him over the edge, as he thrusted into you, spilling inside your inner walls. You collapsed onto his sweaty chest as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead before removing himself from you, earning a small moan from your lips. Of course your voice made his cock go hard again.

"Guess we're not getting any sleep tonight." He breathed out before thrusting back inside you.

——————-

It was the early morning hours of the next day, the sun not even out yet when you heard the doorbell ring. Both you and Miguel got up an hour prior to get ready and packed, barely running on two hours of sleep.

You go to Gabi's room as you go to her bedside and kneel down. "Hi baby bug. Tio Gabi is here. Papa and I are going to leave soon, do you want to say goodbye?" Your soft tone woke her as she rubbed one of her eyes trying to get the sleep out as she yawned nodding her head. You lift her out of the bed and walk out of the room. You smile as she rests her head against you, her eyes trying hard to stay open.

You walk down the steps towards the two brothers in the entry way where your two suitcases sat.

"Someone wanted to say goodbye." You say as you bring Gabi over to Miguel, who smiled lovingly at his daughter as he took her into in his arms and gave her a kiss to the cheek, "goodbye princesa. Mama and I will miss you so much. We'll see you on Monday." He gives her another kiss on her forehead. You then stood right next them as Gabi squirmed out of her father's hold as she wanted to go back in your arms.

You happily took her as you held her close to you as you gave her a kiss to her forehead. "Aw we'll miss you baby bug. If you ever miss us just ask Tio Gabriel to call us."

Miguel comes back inside the house after putting the bags in the hired car. "It's time to head to the airport."

You keep holding Gabi as you comb your fingers through her hair, which calmed her down when she felt anxious. "Ok baby bug, we have to go now. I'll miss you so much."

Gabi clung to you not wanting to leave your arms, which made your heart ache, making you not want to leave her.

"Come here mi pequeña sobrina. We'll have a fun weekend. We'll go to the movies, the park, and eat all the junk food we want." Gabriel said as you handed Gabi over to him. His words perked her ears and made her eyes widen with excitement. "Yay!"

Miguel rolled his eyes at his brother, not ready to have to deal with a sugar-high child when he comes back. But as long as his daughter was happy he would be happy.

After saying your last goodbyes you and Miguel enter the back seat of the car as it drives off towards the airport. The smooth ride plus the warmth of sitting right next to Miguel made your eyes grow heavy before closing.

What felt like only a minute later you feel lips pressed to your hand. "Wake up, mi vida. We're here." Your eyes open to see Miguel smiling down at you. You lift your head from his shoulder as you smile up at him. "Oops, I must have fallen back asleep." You chuckle. You both get out of the car. Eyes widened slightly shocked to not be in front of the airport drop-off but on the tarmac with a private jet 10 feet from where you stood.

"You ready, cariño?" Miguel placed a hand on your mid-lower back. You look up to him with a smile as you both walk towards the jet. When you entered you were amazed by the luxurious scene before you. Light tan leathered cushioned seats.

You find a seat by the window as you look outside the window, smiling as you begin to see the sunrise. Miguel sat in the chair in front of you. He extends his hand across the table to rest on top of yours.

"Is everything alright? You have a surprised look on your face."

" Everything is perfect. I guess it's a mixture of still waking up and coming to the realization that I'm on a private jet." You smile as you intertwine your hand with his.

"Ah I see. Well let's make it an amazing first time." He gestures for the flight attendant, who brings a bottle of Prosecco and two glasses. Once they were filled you clinked glasses and took a sip, neither of your eyes left the others.

Throughout the plan ride you still tried to convince Miguel to tell you where you were going. And every time he wouldn't tell you, only giving a toothy grin and a chuckle as he would say, "lo siento mi amor. Not happening."

In between that you both would have conversation either about Gabi and her changing schools next year, talking about you starting at Alchamex, or just random things on each others' mind. Plus a few fun activities in the bathroom.

Finally the time came that you would find out where you would be going, seeing the view from the window. However, Miguel, being sneaky had all the windows close so you couldn't see it. Your pout made his heart swoon as he gestured for you to come over and sit on his lap.

"You'll find out very soon." Miguel lightly took your chin as he kissed you. The kiss lasted a bit longer turning slightly heated, but before Miguel could get his tongue in your mouth you removed your lips from him earning a pout on his face, making you chuckle.

"Sorry Miggy. Not happening until I know where we're going." You press a quick kiss to his lips before getting off his lap and back to your seat. You grin mischievously at him knowing you've poked the bear who stares down at you with lust-filled eyes.

Another 20 minutes and the jet landed. You and Miguel got up and towards the now open door. You stepped outside as you felt the warm salty breeze that was so familiar to you.

"It's nice to be back in Miami with you cariño."

You look up at him both eyes and lips smiling in excitement. "You're so sweet. Thank you for this." You go on your toes to kiss his cheek, which made his grin widen, showing his dimples, something you cherished deep within your heart and soul.

The drive didn't take long as traffic went smoothly. Flashbacks and the feeling of nostalgia overcame you as the driver pulls into the same hotel you had met Miguel in almost 3 years ago.

After getting checked in Miguel leads you to your room. A smile graces your lips as you reminisce the memories of walking through these halls last time you were here.

Miguel opens the door as you enter a massive suite. As you walk in your eyes widen in amazement as you gaze at the gorgeous spacious living room with floor-to ceiling windows and luscious and soft furniture. When you turn you see a massive kitchen with an intimate-size dinning table.

You set your bag down as you walk towards the main windows you noticed the large patio balcony that has its own intimate pool, lawn chairs, and dining table with an umbrella. The sun was shining beautifully brightening your smile. You couldn't wait to spend the weekend under the sun with Miguel.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against him. A relaxing sigh escaped you as you felt his soft lips against your neck, hitting your sweet spot.

"Should we break in our sanctuary for the weekend?" He whispered against your ear as his hand lowered, lifting your skirt. He pulled you closer as he moved your panties to the side and began rubbing your clit. Your breath hitched as you felt one of his fingers push inside you as his other hand lifted up your top and squeezed your right breast.

"Didn't get enough on the flight here?" You let out a small chuckle before gasping as he entered another finger and pumped faster.

"I can never have enough of you, cariño. Fucking you in that enclosed bathroom twice wasn't enough. I wish you would have just let me sprawl you on the sofa in the jet." Miguel inserted a third finger, filling your aching pussy as he sucked on your neck, leaving marks in his trek.

"T-the flight attendant w-would have seen us."

"She would have gone to the cockpit to give us some privacy.But no matter. We'll make up for it right now." Miguel continued to pump his fingers into you as he grind his boner into your back. A moan left you, chills shooting up your spine as Miguel pinches your right nipple as he sucked on your neck. The various touches made the knot form in your lower abdomen. Your head falls against his chest, giving his mouth more access to your neck, marking you all over.

Miguel lets out a groan as his pants tighten, wanting to free himself and fill up your soft and warm walls.

Not able to take it much longer Miguel removes his fingers, letting out an annoyed moan from you. He turns you around lifts you up and sits you on the dining room table. He goes down on his knees as he removes your panties and skirt putting your legs over his shoulders before diving his tongue deep into your aching cunt.

A shaky moan leaves you as Miguel's tongue enters your wet folds. His lips adventure around your overly sensitive area, as your thighs wrapped tight around his head, making his cock twitch from the pressure as he yearned to be inside you.

Every time your eyes opened and looked down your cheeks turned a shade darker as your eyes met his intense reddish-brown gaze. You gripped the edge of the table as you felt his tongue slowly lick your wet folds before sucking your sensitive clit, instinctively making your hips buck up against him.

You begin to feel your core tighten again, " Cum for me cariño," he said before his lips sucked on your clit.

Your grip on the table relaxed as you released yourself onto his face, your thighs shaking from your release of your orgasm. Miguel stood up from his knees, a smirk on his face as he hooked your knees with his hands as he pulled you closer against him. He leaned down and took your chin as he lifted your head slightly and captured his lips with yours. You moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

"You like tasting yourself, amor?" Miguel hummed in amusement before capturing your lips again and entering his tongue in your mouth.

You hummed in agreement against his lips before breathlessly saying, "only from your lips, Miggy."

As you both continued the passionate make out session Miguel moved his hands from your ass. To your disappointment as he began to unbuckle his belt and began to unzip his pants the doorbell rang.

You both sighed in frustration, annoyed in being interrupted. Miguel puts himself back in and walks to the front door as he buckles his belt. Already losing the moment you hop off the table.

You peak around the corner to see that it was the bell hop delivering the bags. Although you could only see Miguel's broad back you tried to hold back a chuckle as you saw the scared face of the bell hop. Miguel must have been terrifying the man just because he cock-blocked him.

After the bell hop left Miguel brought all the luggage to the main area, setting it down in a huff in frustration. His hair was out of its normal place. He combined it back with his fingers, however, it fell right back onto his forehead. He looked at you with a smile opening his arms to you, which you happily walked into his arms as he wrapped you up in a bear hug. You looked up at him as you got on your toes to kiss his chin.

"I guess the moment has passed?" Miguel asked.

"Yeah, I'm sorry Miggy. That Bell hop really did come at the worst time."

"He did." Miguel sighed as he leaned down and placed a loving kiss on your lips. "What would you like to do now? We can go shopping, go to the pool, the beach, stay here."

"I don't care what we do I just want to be with you." You smile as you rest your head against his chest, enjoying the rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Dios mío, mi amor. Mi corazón se hincha por lo lindo que puedes ser. Mi mente y mi corazón se vuelven locos por ti. Te amo con todo mi corazón y mi alma." Miguel smiled wide as he places butterfly kisses all over your face and neck. (Oh my God, my love. My heart swells because of how beautiful you can be. My mind and heart go crazy for you. I love you with all my heart and soul.)

"You are such a sweet talker, Miguel. Are you trying to get into my pants again?" You chuckle as you wrap your arms around his neck to pulls him down and kiss him.

"'Maybe a little bit." He chuckled along with you. "Let me take you shopping cariño. I want to treat you to a nice weekend."

"Aw Miguel that's sweet of you. But you know you don't need to win me over with anything artificial. I love you."

"I love you too. And I know that. But can't a boyfriend just spoil his girlfriend sometimes?" He chuckles as he brushed some strands of your hair behind your ear.

"Well if you say it like that, then ok. But if there is anything that catches your eye, I'm buying it for you."

"Whatever you wish for cariño."

You spend majority of the day exploring the shopping district in South Beach. Both you and Miguel bought plenty of things. The last place was a men's store to look at shirts for Miguel. Throughout the day he had bought everything that peaked your interest even if you didn't say anything, he got it for you. You really wanted to buy him a few things.

He picked out a few nice dress shirts as he went to go try them on on top of handing him a few more that you thought would look good on him. Every time he showed you a new shirt you thought he looked amazing in all of them. Also you just kept on eating up all the gawking stares at Miguel from both men and women. Usually some people would be annoyed by people checking out your boyfriend, as long as they didn't directly try to flirt with him in front of you. But you just loved that he was yours and you were his, which was easily shown when he wrapped an arm around your waist.

After grabbing a bite to eat you both decided it was time to head back to the hotel as the sun already was gone. After dropping off all the bags you both head down to a familiar-looking out door bar by the pool.

Miguel guides you to two seats at the bar counter. A chill went up your spine, the feeling of deja vu running through your mind.

Your smile widens when the bartender brings over the drinks you both had ordered. Before you could take a sip Miguel swiftly moved it from your grasp. You sent him a playful offended look as you lean closer to him, lips only centimeters a part. "This time I'm old enough to drink." You wink at him, before his lips could meet yours, you pulled your head away and placed your lips on the rim of your glass as you take your first sip, eyes never leaving his.

"This time I know that you're mine." Miguel pulls you closer towards him, smiling wide at you before taking your chin and kissing you. "God I just want to ravage you right now."

You giggle at his words, "Not. Yet. My love." You tap his plush lips with your finger as you pronounce each word. Miguel smiles against your finger as he kisses it before wrapping an arm around your waist and moving your chair as close to his as possible.

"Hey I wanted to tell you some big news."

"Oh?! What is it?!"

"The same day I heard about you getting the internship I officially became the CEO of Alchamex."

"Oh my god Miguel! That's amazing! Congratulations!" Your eyes widen as you wrap your arms around his neck, practically jumping on him, giving him a kiss.

Miguel's smile widened with joy as he happily accepted you into his arms.

"Well now we have something to celebrate for this weekend!"You smile as you sit back in your seat and raise your glass. Miguel chuckles from your remarks as he follows your gesture with his drink.

"Let's drink to us mi amor."

"To us? What for?" You return his wide smile.

"Your internship. My new position. Our future." You felt your heart skip a beat when you heard his last words.

"I'll cheers to that. I love you."

"I love you too, cariño."

After a few more drinks at the bar and another night of passion you wake up the next morning feeling slightly sore.

Raising from the bed you stretch as you smile at the beautiful morning sky. You notice the lack of warmth to the other side of the bed as you can hear the shower running in the bathroom. A chill went up your spine, as the feeling of Deja vu washed over you. You leave the bed as you walk over to the master suite bathroom in your birthday suit.

As you enter your cheeks redden from the sight of water dripping down his wide strong back as it rolls down his waist to his plush ass and down to the marble floor. You bite your lip as you watch his arm muscles flex as he washes his curls. You step into the shower stepping around him and directly under the water. You look up at him with a suggestive smile.

"Good morning mi amor. I didn't think you would be up yet. But I'm glad you are now." Miguel leaned down and cupped your chin as he kissed you. Craving him you wrapped your arms lazily around his neck. His other hand grabbed you by the waist pulling you against him, a groan escaping his lips as your stomach rubbed against his erected cock.

"I missed the warmth of your body in the bed." You gave him a fake pout as you push your body closer to his, making your breasts push against him. Miguel's eyes widen before filling with lust as he gave you one of his iconic smirks.

"Aw I'm sorry baby. I can warm you up now though." Miguel lifted you up against the shower wall, large hands cupping your ass as he thrusts himself into you.

A moan escapes you as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he begin to fuck you at a rough pace. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel the build up from the feeling of his thick ridges invading your pink flesh walls.

Miguel moved one of his hands to your lower abdomen has he could see and feel himself fucking your insides. "Ugh cariño I just want to fill you up with my seed and see your stomach swollen with our children."

"M-Miggy." You barely could say his name, to caught up in your own pleasure.

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." Miguel's lips pressed against your neck as he nipped and sucked at your skin as he continued to ram you against the wall. With his hand pressing against your lower abdomen, making your space for his cock to move inside you tighter. The feeling in your stomach quickly builds up and with one more thrust your eyes roll back as you find your release. After a few more thrusts Miguel released himself inside you, latching his lips to yours in a heated kiss. His thrust slowed down before he pulled out, his seed spilling out of you.

Miguel let you stand again. He turned you around, putting some shampoo in his hand as he massaged it into your scalp. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes enjoying the sensation.

After he helped washing your hair, you poured some body wash in your hands as you began to wash his body. As you used the cloth to wash his broad chest he brush some loose strands behind your ear, whispering "So beautiful." You smiled lovingly up at him as he caressed your cheek.

After finishing cleaning in the shower you both get dry and ready for the day before heading out hand in hand to grab some breakfast.

The hostess seats you at a nice table outside facing the beach. You and Miguel decided to sit next to each other instead of across wanting to be close to one another.

"Anything in store for today?" You smile before taking a sip of your mimosa.

"I was thinking we relax at the beach today. How does that sound?" Miguel smiles as he pops a grape into his mouth.

"That sounds wonderful."

Miguel's phone buzzed on the table, picking it up a smile appears on his face. Looking over you see it's Gabriel face-timing him. You scoot your chair closer to Miguel before he pressed the answer button.

"Mama! Papa!" Said the young voice you missed.

"Buenas días, princesa. ¿Cómo dormiste?" ( Good morning princess, how did you sleep?)

"Good! I miss you and mama. When are you coming home?" Your heart ached when you saw her sad pout.

"We miss you so much baby bug. Papa and I will be back in two more sleeps."

"Ok Mama. Papa did you-" "well look at the time, it's time for you to get ready for soccer practice." Gabriel interrupted his little niece for talking further.

You frowned slightly wanting to talk to Gabi more as you did miss her, but after a quick goodbye Gabriel hung up the call.

"I wish we could have talked longer. I miss her."

Miguel took your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist.

"I miss her too, but we'll see her soon."

"You're right." You smile as you cup his cheek lovingly.

After enjoying breakfast together you walk to the beach and find two seats with an umbrella. You lay your beach bag and towels on the chairs before removing your sun dress over your head. As soon as your were just in your colorful bikini you heard a snap. Before you could even react Miguel blocked your chest from nearby onlookers.

"Aw my shoulder strap broke." You pout, as you cover your chest. "I have another one in my bag, I'll go change in one of the bathrooms."

"Do u need help?" Miguel asked with a look of slight concern.

"Don't worry I'll be ok. Thank you for protecting me, my knight and shining armor." You go on your toes and kiss his lips before grabbing your spair bikini and heading over towards the bathroom.

After switching bikinis you look yourself over in the mirror smiling before heading back out to the beach. Your happy smile switched to a frown when you noticed the waitress getting too close to your boyfriend. Of course before you can get there she leaves. When you got to your chair you noticed Miguel's annoyed face before his eyes met yours and seconds later his loving smile returned.

"Make a friend there?" You chuckle as you sit on the chair next to him.

"Just the typical waitress trying to gain my favor, they are just too blind to see that my heart and body belong to you only. Oh I ordered you a mango margarita." Miguel took your hand and kissed your knuckles. You notice the waitress was about to come back over with your drinks, so the mischievous person you can be, you straddle his lap as you trace your hands up his chiseled chest to his shoulders to massage them.

"¿Qué estás haciendo mi sexy minx?" Miguel chuckled with a smirk on his face as he placed his hands on your hips. (What are you doing my sexy minx?)

"Just helping you relax plus another reason."

"Care to let me in on it?"

"Oh I think you already have figure it out Doctor O'Hara."

Miguel gave your hips a tiny love squeeze to your cheeky remark.

The waitress came back now acting nervous when she noticed you on Miguel's lap acting all lovey dovey.You smiled as you could tell Miguel was trying told back a chuckle as he knew your only got like this when you got jealous. He thought it was cute. "H-here are your d-drinks."

"You can place them on the table. Thank you." The waitress gives you a fake awkward happy smile before walking away. You hand Miguel his beer before grabbing your drink and taking a sip from your straw.

"This is bringing back fond memories." Miguel brushed some of your hair behind your shoulder before bringing you closer against him. Luckily you were at a Adults-only hotel, so you didn't have to worry about children being around.

"What makes you say that?"

"You sitting in my lap under the sun by the sea. Who would have thought I would call you mine almost three years later." Miguel took your chin gently and placed a loving kiss to both sides of your cheeks before placing one on your lips.

"Oh Miggy you can be such a romantic. I love you." You chuckle with a loving smile before placing another kiss on his lips.

"Anything to please you hermosa."

"You remember that nice memory of us in the private pool?" You give him a suggestive smile wrapping your arms around his neck now and bringing your chest against his. Miguel grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, feeling a half erect hard on under neath his swim suit shorts rubbing against your clit you bite your lower lip to hide your moan.

"I do."

"Maybe we should sneak into the pool tonight and recreate it?"

"Actually I booked us a private cabana and pool for all day tomorrow. So we can recreate that moment, on and on and on." Miguel moved his hips against you on rhythm with his last words. Before the beginning of a knot could form in your lower abdomen you remember you were in public and immediately remove yourself from his lap and back to to your chair blushing madly.

"Aw cariño why did you leave? I thought we were having fun." Miguel sent you a fake pout.

"A little too much fun in public. Save it for closed doors." You wink at him. Miguel winked back with a chuckle kissing your forehead as he wrapped and arm on the back of your chair as your were right next to him.

You spent the day laying in the sun enjoying each others presence in comfortable silence with a break or two playing in the water to cool off.

Once the sun begins to set you go back to the hotel and shower together, taking longer than usual to both satisfy your sexual hunger building up throughout the day.

You smile at yourself in the long mirror lining the long dress with heels that you chose. Miguel had said that dinner was at a Michelin star Mexican-Japanese restaurant tonight, which you were excited to try.

"You look gorgeous mi amor." Miguel wrapped his arms around you in a hug as he kisses your neck. You turn around to face your handsome boyfriend.

"You look handsome." You giggle slightly from his light kisses tickling your neck.

"Not too old for you?" He lightly chuckled but you could tell he actually wanted to know, feeling slightly insecure.

"Miguel. You're the one for me. You're my perfect man."

"Flaws and all?"

"Flaws and all. But I see your flaws as unique characteristics. And I love every single one." You lift his head to look into his brown eyes.

"You are more than perfect y/n." Miguel smiled as he kissed your lips. Once you both broke away you chuckled lightly to see that your red lipstick left a mark on his lips. You grab a tissue and gently wipe the red from his lips.

"God, if I didn't want to go to this restaurant I would mount you right now on this bed." You take a deep breath trying your best to control yourself. What this man could make your mind and body feel.

"We'll have plenty of time afterwords, unless, do you want to have a quickie right now? We have 20 minutes. Only takes 8 to walk there." Miguel smirked as he turned you back around and bent you over before you could answer. He got your answer when you rubbed your ass against his crotch making him groan from the contact. He unzipped his pants and taking himself out before lifting your dress and pushing your white lace underwear to the side before pushing himself in. A moan left your lips as he fully entered himself inside your wet pink folds. From this angle you were tighter so you felt the feeling of his ridges and veins moving against your inner walls.

Grabbing your hips he removes himself fully except the tip before plunging back into you.

"Fuck hermosa. You feel so good. It's going to be hard just to fill you once."

Miguel pace quickens at record speed building your knot instantly. Another moan escaped your lips overwhelmed by the quick and pleasurable orgasm. However, after coming down from your euphoric high you noticed his pace doesn't falter.

"M-miggy."

"Just one more. Let me make you cum one more time." And true to his word you felt another knot build just as fast as the first before feeling that familiar and intoxicating high you can't seem to get enough of. After your second orgasm Miguel stopped his thrusts inside you, as he made your inner walls white. He thrusted a few more times inside you wanting as much seed to stay inside you as his constantly had the need to breed you.

He walked over to the bathroom to get a warm wet towel to clean you off before cleaning himself off.

You look in the mirror to make yourself look presentable before linking arms with your boyfriend. "Look at that, we still have time to spare. Could have fucked you for another few minutes.Guess we'll head over early."

"Guess we'll have to add those minutes for later tonight's session." Miguel smirked from your response before placing a kiss on the top of your head before you both left the room towards the restaurant.

You make it to the restaurant and are seated right away at a beautiful table outside with a bottle of Prosecco in an ice bucket ready to be sipped.

The dinner and atmosphere was perfect. The food and drink was amazing, the staff were really nice. How more perfect could this night get?

"Wow, I can see why this restaurant has a Michelin star, every bite was amazing. What an amazing day. Thank you." You smile

"I'm glad you liked it cariño. But dinner is not quite over yet. We still have dessert." Miguel chuckled slightly when you gave him a curious look.

You were curious to his words because Miguel didn't have a big sweet tooth. You're surprised by the waiter coming over with a small white cake with white flowers dusted gold.

On the top it read in cursive "Will you..."the waiter took a lighter and lit the thin layer on fire revealing another set of words, "Marry me?"

When your eyes lifted to Miguel's you saw him already beside you kneeling down on one knee with a velvet small box open.

"Y/n. Mi Vida. Mi amor. When I look into your eyes, I can see a reflection of the two of us and the life I hope we'll share. I know we have had our challenges in this relationship. But my love for you is so much stronger than any challenge that has come or will come in our way. When I met you almost three years ago at this very hotel I'd never felt my heart so full. I never felt so happy before. And I'm so happy that you came back into my life. I promise you, no one will work harder to make you happy or cherish you more than me. Will you make me the happiest man on Eartg and marry me?" Miguel opened up the black velvet box to reveal a beautiful oval shaped, 3 carat diamond stone with a white gold band that decorated with smaller diamonds on both sides.

Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute as you felt butterflies fly rapidly in your stomach. You started to nod your head yes having a hard time speaking as you gave him a wide happy smile before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him up with some new found strength as you kiss him. You pepper his lips with kisses while you say in between, "yes. Yes. I will marry you."

Miguel smile was bright and happy, the smile that made your heart swell with love. He cupped your cheek, "You just made me the happiest man on Earth."

The surrounding tables called and cheered for your joyous occasion. Miguel took the beautiful ring from its box as he slipped it on your ring finger.

"It fits perfectly. It's beautiful Miguel." You look at the ring smiling before placing another kiss to his lips.

After paying the bill you both leave the restaurant as you decide to take a walk on the beach.

Miguel leads you to a private section of the beach where a gorgeous open tent with candles lighting a path in the sand with petals trailing up the middle. You gasped in wonder when you see the inside of tent. A king sized floor mattress and comforters with blankets and pillows. On one side there was champagne and a small fruit platter with a sign that said, 'Congratulations.'

"Oh Miguel this is gorgeous." You look up at him with love and excitement which returns in his gaze.

"Now let's celebrate." Miguel lifted you up bridal style before gently throwing you on to the soft comforter.

The ending of the night was perfect as you showed each other how much you loved each other as you made love on the beach under the starry night sky.

You wake up to the bright sun shinning over the bright blue water. Brain becoming more awake you realize you were still in the tent on the beach.

You felt Miguel shift as you felt the grip he had around your waist tighten as he pulled you back against his chest as he whispered in your ear with his rough morning voice, " Good morning hermosa."

"Good morning." You turn your head slightly to meet his lips with yours to give him a morning kiss. You then remember the band around your finger as you turned to look at it.

"Oh my god, we're engaged."You cover your mouth eyes widening smiling as the realization finally hits you.

"We are." Miguel chuckled to your words as he placed a few kisses on your shoulder and neck.

"How did you set this all up?"

"It's a special offer they have for the newly engaged. It's a private part of the beach that no one else can go to .

"Very romantic. Thank you for a wonderful weekend away."

"Of course mi amor. Anything for you."

The rest of the morning was spent with more love making and breakfast that was delivered.

You both decided it was time to head back to the room, walking back in the clothes from the night before.

The day went by in a flash from the private pool and cabana to another romantic dinner to now where you are on the terrace balcony of your room laying on the outdoor sofa and cuddling in each others arms.

You gaze up at the stars as you both try to find constellations.

"Look there's the Little Dipper!" You point up to the sky with your left hand. Miguel gently grabs your hand that was raised to the sky and brings it to his lips placing a kiss to your wrist.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." He smiled as his reddish-brown gaze met yours. Your cheeks flushed slightly as you smiled up at him.

"Me too. I love you Miguel O'Hara."

"I love too, soon-to-be Y/n O'Hara."

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!💕

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138 notes · View notes

mvltisstuff · 10 months

Note

Evan Buckley x female reader - tsunami episode - they have been dating for 4 years and Buck has recently proposed, reader and Buck spend a day on the pier with Christopher but they soon get caught up in the tsunami. Reader gets injured badly (hit her head/unconscious/broken bones etc) and Buck struggles to find her and panics. Some hospital scenes with Buck and reader and 118.

angst, injuries(if ur comfortable too write about it), heartbreak, fluff 🫶🫶

waves - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: you guys always have such good ideas istg… so funny story i was gonna finish this last night but i was drunk so i couldn’t 😁

every time her eyes were forced open, y/n was faced with a new horror in front of her. the murky grey water full of debris scratching against her skin. the stinging salt water in her eyes and lips. the salt from the sea diving into her scrapes. the feeling that she was drowning and there was nothing she could do to stop it. the ocean has always been scary, but it’s never scarier than when you’re in the center of its wrath. she came up for air, only to take one deep breath before being forced under the surface again. she’s a good swimmer. she knows she can swim, but no one prepares you for a wave from hell in swimming lessons.

y/n and buck had taken christopher out for the day, trying to get buck more involved after his accident. they went to the pier, the arcades, anything that christopher suggested they did.

they were supposed to go to the movies. to see a film, but the only thing they saw now was pure calamity in front of them.

she didn’t think buck could take much more pain and uncertainty in this world. he’s the toughest man, but even the toughest soldiers can fall. y/n’s concern for him had peaked. his life felt empty when he didn’t have y/n or the 118. he loved working more than anything, saving people ended up saving him.

he knew y/n before she even started working at the 118. they had been in the same training program, and y/n was eventually transferred to los angeles. buck was so fond of y/n. he loved her more than anyone, which frightened him but also made him filled with electricity. she was alluring, talented, and the sweetest person he’s ever known. she showed him love when he needed it.

so, the ring was in his apartment, shining in one of the hidden compartments in his closet. he was certainly prepared to whip it out and spend the rest of his days next to y/n, but then, a kid with some bombs took over. the engine was on top of buck before he could take a breath, and all his plans to propose were thrown away. it was now or never, he thought, laying on the stretcher. he’d switched from gut-wrenching wails to a solid “marry me.”

now, y/n looked for buck wherever, but the shore had become one with the whole city. the pier was gone, and she didn’t know if buck and chris were too.

she was being shoved across the water, her body being smacked with incoming debris. her head made contact with a slab of concrete that the wave had taken up. after, she’d made contact with another piece that sliced through the side of her abdomen, leaving a clean gash that was releasing a spill of blood. before she knew it, the the water was cold, but she started to feel warmer by the minute. the water around her started turning red, and her face became paler as she accepted her fate. she wanted buck to be there to save her. she wanted to be able to save herself, but the aggression of the water made it near impossible. she allowed her frail body to wash up on top of a white delivery truck, laying there with her maroon blood smeared on the top of the truck.

she was transformed into survival mode, thinking of anything she would be able to do without killing herself even more. she was able to reach for a piece of sopping fabric, pressing it securely against her belly where the massive slash was. there was nothing to be done for her head as the damage had already been done. she’d be damned if this tsunami killed her, but as long as she knew buck was out there, she was going to fight like hell.

buck felt completely lost. he was settled on top of a fire engine, christopher being cradled in his arms as they faced the disaster together. they were the only two people on bucks mind, y/n and christopher. at least he knew where christopher was, but he was separated from his fiancé the moment the wave flooded the pier.

buck tried to stay positive, he really did. but, seeing all the bodies float past limply brought his spirits down. he knew that he would be okay, but the woman who’s the center of his universe could be dead. buck thought nothing could hurt more than his accident. on the contrary, the thoughts in his head during these moments of his life hurt more than any physical pain he’s experienced.

buck stayed silent, not wanting to scare christopher but the boy had his own questions. “how come y/n is gone?”

“she, um, she got lost in one of the waves, pal,” buck mumbles, trying to contain himself from completely breaking down. “we’ll find her when this is over, alright?” buck wishes he had a more firm answer, but there is nothing in this environment that is stable. no one knows a single thing that could or couldn’t happen.

suddenly, everything turned to nightmare fuel. christopher had fallen, and was swept away by the harsh flow. buck screamed his name, jumping in after him and searching for him anywhere. he swore his heart stopped, watching the exhausted boy fall into the unknown pit of water. everything had become a blur to buck. he didn’t even care about anyone else as long as christopher went home to eddie, and y/n went home with him.

bucks heart fell with eddie’s face as their reunited with each other at the hospital. he was carrying the weight of two missing people, feeling like it was only his fault. he wanted y/n there so bad, he so badly wanted her to hold him and say it’ll all work out in the end. y/n was gone, and buck had no fucking clue because now, she could be anywhere. he loves her more than anything on this planet, and a wave can’t change that.

buck continued to notice the shallow breathing of eddie, the pure horror on his face as he might’ve lost the person he adores most. there’s no pain like losing a child, and buck could never live with himself if he didn’t save christopher. alas, when eddie’s eyes directed to behind bucks cut and dirty body, he saw his son wrapped up in a warming blanket. buck felt like complete shit.

he knew he saved christopher, and he was thrilled beyond words. but where was y/n? he had to know. the sun had already set and if she wasn’t found, she was probably dead. the word rang through bucks brain, repeating itself over and over like a monster under the bed. she’s the best thing that ever happened to him, and he never guessed that it would shoot him in the foot until now.

“buck!” bobby yelled, beginning to walk over with hen and chimney as eddie sprinted to his little boy. “hey, what’s wrong, kid?”

buck could barely formulate words, the heaving in his chest was too strong to hold anything else. he panted while spitting out y/n’s name. “i cant find her, guys i tried so hard but we just got separated so fast-“

“alright, buck hang in there,” hen says, placing her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to ease him. “we’re going to look around, ok?” buck nods, knowing that this isn’t easy for them either. y/n was the light at the station, being able to cure a bad day and always making every glad to be at work. she made it the best experience, and she became their best friend outside of work too. they’d lose a coworker, but they’d lose a member of their family above all else.

buck storms around the parking lot in the triage areas, desperately begging them for her name. “do you have a y/n here? y/l/n? ive been to all of the other ones and if she’s not here i don’t know what to do.”

“she’s not on my list, sir. i’m so sorry, but have you checked the black tents?” the sad woman asks, acknowledging the tarp that was decked with body bags. buck stared at them, like they became the only thing in the world.

“i- i cant-“ buck breathes, turning around to break the contact.

“i know, you’re ok, buck,” hen speaks, as buck falls into her arms, his knees barely holding any support of his body. he tries to match henrietta’s breathing, her comforting voice soothing his ears. he tried to ignore everything around him, but the aggressive sirens of another ambulance and the lights illuminated the teams faces.

he watched as the two paramedics opened the doors, revealing another on next to a womans body, squeezing the air into her lungs with the bag. buck knows. he sees her damp hair on the stretcher, the hair loves and admired every day. he sees her crimson-stained outfit, the one he complimented her on this morning. lastly, he sees her beautiful face, the face he could never forget. he wants to sprint over to her, but his feet are planted on the ground. he has no more fight left to give, and he lets himself fall to the ground in exhaustion.

the next time his eyes peel open again, buck is sitting behind a curtain, an oxygen mask around his head and a bottle of water being handed to him. “drink this,” bobby demands.

“thanks,” buck replies.

“don’t thank me. you did great work out there today, buck. i’m proud of you.”

“thank you, cap,” buck twists the cap off, starting to take sips of the water. “please tell me i wasn’t dreaming when i saw y/n.”

“you weren’t. she’s in surgery now. she had a pretty nasty laceration on her head, and an even worse one on her abdomen. they’re thinking it hit her appendix, so they’re going in to take it out before it causes more harm than good. they did a few test on her as well,” buck hisses at bobby’s words, not wanting to hear anymore but needing to know. he didn’t know if it was good or bad, but he had to know. “she has a severe concussion. she’ll probably be disoriented and confused when she wakes up, and surely in pain. buck, hey,” bobby notices the man starting to zone out. she’s still hurt, and it’s not enough for buck. he wishes he could put a force field around her, wanting to take the force of anything that might hurt her. knowing that this out of the ordinary thing almost took her life pains him beyond injury.

“s-sorry,” buck whispers. “i want to see her when she’s out of surgery.”

“you can, but i need you to know that it’s going to look bad. she’s going to be intubated and definitely banged up. you have to know that she’s going to be ok. so, say it,” bobby tells him.

“what?”

“say she’s going to be ok.”

buck gives him a confused look, trying to contain the waves of his own tears as he utters the words out. “she’s going to be ok,” before he knows it, the dam breaks and bobby’s hugging buck, comforting him from the emotions that have taken over.

the minute buck gets the confirmation to see his girl, he’s passionately walking down the hallway of the ICU, scanning the rooms for the only one he cares about. scarily, bobby was right. it looked bad. she had cuts through her cheeks and her shoulders, even passing through her eyebrows and forehead. she had a thick bandage around her abdomen, protecting the incisions on her stomach. the lights were dimmed, protecting her eyes from hurting her head even more. the tube down her throat was a haunting sight for buck to see, realizing that she could barely do it on her own.

he sat in the chair next to her, anxious to even graze her hand. he just watched her chest rise slowly and sink down again, next to the hissing of the machine. and he stayed there. he couldn’t bring himself to leave her side again. he lost her once, it wasn’t happening again. so, buck sat next to her until her anesthesia wore off. some people might’ve thought he was a statue, the way he didn’t rip his eyes off of her.

the doctors came in a while later when y/n started breathing over her tube. she was still sleeping, but she was breathing on her own. buck knew she could, he knew this wouldn’t be the thing to take them apart. the worlds had it’s go at trying to separate buck and y/n, but it never works. until death do them part, literally. buck looked at the ring on her finger, almost forgetting that they’re planning a wedding. he’d been given the ring from the nurse, who took it off before her scans. he was the first one to put it on her finger, so he did it again.

the 118 had piled into her room, eddie bringing christopher to his tías house to spend time with her. he came back when he heard about y/n. buck just saved the life of his son, and y/n saved bucks life before he even knew it. the entire team knew it. they needed her to be ok, or work would truly never be the same.

she’d worn off the anesthesia a few hours later, looking at her family surrounding her.

“hey, baby,” buck smiles, still dressed in his muddy clothes. “i know it hurts, it’s ok.”

“what happened?” she asks, rasp in her voice.

“there was a tsunami, y/n. it got you pretty good, too,” bobby added, standing at the edge of her bed. “you fought that pretty good, y/n. they said it was pretty ugly when they found you.”

“yeah, i remember,” she squints. “but why am i here? shouldn’t i be at work soon?” buck gives his captain a confused look.

“she’s just confused, buck. it’s the concussion, don’t worry about that,” eddie whispers behind buck into his ear.

“do you remember seeing anyone or anything?” hen asks.

“i remember being scared, for buck and c-christopher. i thought they were dead for a little, and i thought i was next. but i couldnt just drop there and give up on them.”

buck noticed her exhaustion, from the pain medicine and just the stress of her disorientation. “you should get more sleep, honey. you’re gonna need it.”

“bucks right. we can come back to see you tomorrow, y/n,” hen stands. “we love you, y/n. you did good.”

“you’re tough, y/n, you’ll be alright,” chimney adds, patting her hand and starts to clear out of the room.

“don’t go, buck,” y/n says, grabbing his hand with her eyes shut tightly.

“i’m not going anywhere, y/n/n. you’re stuck with me,” buck tells her, leaving a kiss on her hand and he sees the corner of her lips rise with it.

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wonderfulwonderrful · 6 months

Text

Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you told Toto, "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That was the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong. Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader team principal. Genre: Romance, comedy, and some good drama. Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. (By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.)

Dances With Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit.

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now.

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono.

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him.

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors.

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way.

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being.

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you.

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming!

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much.

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets.

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way.

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him.

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to.

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her.

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it.

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows.

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space.

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all.

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you.

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA.

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking.

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds.

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row.

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks.

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus?

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes.

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

Race day arrives.

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds.

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy.

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously.

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over.

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back.

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans.

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan.

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... - Masterlist | Next Chapter

254 notes · View notes

geralts-yenn · 9 months

Text

Something like that - Part 2

Syverson (Sandcastle) x female reader (second-person pov)

summary: this is the second part of Something like that, a sequel to bonfire - Sy is finally taking you on a date. You spend the rest of the evening at the cabin with Sy

warnings: mention of previous relationship/breakup, masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, p-i-v sex, oral (f receiving), praise kink, tiny hint of breeding kink, edging, Sy in the shower

word count: 5k

A/N: I finally got around to finishing the second part of our first date with Sy. I got a lot of inspiration over the last few weeks, @martha-oi doing her best to make us all want to write for Sy 😁

Inspo board for this part can be found here!

I'd love to get some feedback. Please don't hesitate to reblog, comment, ask. Like all my fellow writers, I long for every bit of interaction with my readers. If you want to make my day, hit reblog and tell me what you think🥰

My masterlist

Part 1

Everything felt just perfect as you were snuggled into Sy's chest. You switched between talking, kissing and just listening to the crickets and each other's heart beats. From time to time, Sy pressed soft kisses on your hair.

It took you a while until you finally dared to ask what had been on your mind ever since the night at the bonfire.

“Sy?” You felt his hum vibrating in his chest. “Why did it take you so long to ask for a date? And why did you cancel it when you knew you had to leave?“

Sy took a deep breath and you knew he was searching for the right words. He pressed another kiss on your temple before he gave you his answer.

“Oh, darlin‘, how can I explain this to you without making a fool out of myself? I was scared. I was scared of fucking things up, of screwing up the one chance I finally had to get what I always wanted.“

You sat up straight so you could look into his eyes. “What you always wanted?”

Sy chuckled softly and rubbed his hands over your arms.

“I was alone for a long time, there was no one that I could see myself with. And then you walked into my life and I just knew you were the one. But then I feared you wouldn’t want me. And when I was finally sure you'd give us a try, I had to leave. I panicked, thinking you’d send me a Dear John letter. And that would have destroyed me.“ He took another deep breath.

“I guess that’s nothing to discuss on a first date, but dammit, we waited too long for anything else… I always wanted something like that.“ He gestured at you and your surroundings. “The whole package; a sweet woman, a house, a dog and a bunch of kids.” He paused, carefully studying your reaction before he went on: “And I'm still fucking scared I will mess this up!”

Your heart was thumping in your chest as you listened to his words. And when he stopped, you didn’t know what to say, so you just crushed your mouth against his and gave him a kiss that you hoped would convince him how much you wanted that, too.

When you broke away, he glanced at you, the corners of his mouth slightly curled up. ”Does this mean I didn't scare you away with my speech?” he asked and you couldn't help but give him another peck.

"This means your speech helped you sneak deeper into my heart than ever before.” He let out a sigh and you both got back to kissing, your shoulders feeling so much lighter than before.

***

The sun was slowly setting, and the sky changed into shades of orange and purple. You peered over the smooth surface of the lake, mirroring the warm colors. “Are we staying the night, or do we have to drive back?”

“I would love to spend the night here, but I can also drive you home if you'd like to, sugar.” His face couldn't hide the hope he had that you wanted to stay, too.

You got up and dropped the towel that was wrapped around your chest. “Great, I would have hated to drive home with wet hair!” Never losing eye contact with Sy, you slowly walked backwards to the end of the pier. His gaze couldn’t hide in the slightest how much he liked what he saw. Sy sucked on his lower lip and leaned forward, resting his hands on his thighs. You could have sworn you saw his cock twitch. Dipping your toe into the water, you checked the temperature and when you decided that you'd live, you turned and jumped headfirst into the lake.

When you broke through the surface again, you heard Sy laughing and seconds later he cannonballed into the water, splashing it right into your face.

It didn’t take long until you felt his erection pressing against your skin and you couldn’t stop thinking how you wanted him to use it, to split you open and take you. A shiver ran down your spine.

“Gosh, sugar, we’ll be freezing to death in here!” he uttered in between hitched breaths. Your head fell back in laughter. Could that big bear that always radiated heat really be cold? Wrapping your body around his, you kissed him on his neck.

“I’m gonna help you warm up, okay?” Your lip brushed over the stubble on his throat as you spoke. A deep growl was all you got as an answer before Sy pulled you closer to his chest. His tongue forced your lips open and he entered your mouth with vigor.

“You’re gonna get chilled to the bone, darlin’, let me get you out of here.” He was right, but still, you pouted because you just didn’t want to leave. This was the most beautiful and most romantic thing that had ever happened to you and you didn’t want it to be over yet.

Sy swam back to the pier with you in his arm. He climbed the ladder and held out his hand for you to take. You hadn’t even put a foot onto the wooden planks before he pulled you into his arms again Maybe it was his kiss or maybe it was the small gust of wind that brushed over your wet body, but you shuddered once more.

“Yeah, enough of that. Next time you’re trembling, it’s because I made you come on my tongue, darlin’.” Okay, perhaps you were ready to leave this romantic scene and see what else Sy had planned for you.

Sy dropped all your stuff on the couch and gave you a light slap on your bottom. “Bathroom is over there. Get into the shower, baby. I'll get a fire going, and then I’ll join you, okay?” You bit your lip in anticipation. The thought of Sy in the shower with you made you clench your thighs.

Sy wrapped your towel around you and started to gather all the stuff the two of you had dropped on your way to the lounger. Even with his arms stuffed with clothes, he managed to open the door for you like the gentleman he was.

And when you stepped into the small cabin, you realized that you hadn’t seen the peak of cheesy romance yet today. The room in front of you was so cozy. Blankets were thrown over the old couch. The wooden floor was covered with a fluffy rug in front of a fireplace. There wasn’t a fire yet, but you knew Sy would change that soon. And the fairy lights that were glimmering on the walls made it look just so cozy.

“Having fun in there, Sugar?” Sy chuckled, and you knew exactly how that smirk was spreading across his face, even if you couldn’t see him. The door opened and a pair of hands grabbed your hips. Sy parted your legs with his thigh, and one of his hands moved over your side until his fingers joined yours.

“Don’t make me wait too long, Sy!” you told him before you turned to the bathroom. He was smart enough that he had switched on the small electric radiator, and you sighed as the warmth in the room settled around your body.

Gladly the water in the shower was hot too, and soon you leaned against the tiles, enjoying the water running down your back. The room was filled with steam. Your mind went back to the moment earlier today when Sy had covered you in his cum. Your fingers circled the bundle of nerves between your legs and you moaned.

“Dammit, baby, you’re so hot when you’re doing that.” His teeth sank into your neck, and he sucked on your skin, surely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. His cock was hard as it pressed against your ass.

His hand left you again when he turned you to face him. Your own moved to his chest, but Sy grabbed it and positioned it back to your pussy. He took a step back and shook his head. "Uh-uh, don't stop. I wanna watch you come over your pretty lil' fingers, sugar.”

For a moment, you wanted to hide, feeling insecure and vulnerable with Sy's eyes on you. But as you saw him standing there, his throbbing cock standing tall, you shut your eyes and focused on your feelings.

The sensation of your fingers, moving over your swollen pearl, applying some pressure, made you forget your surroundings quickly. Your other hand joined, gathering the slick before the water could wash it off, and you let two of your fingers slip into you. You were chasing your high, rubbing, pumping into you, desperate moans falling from your mouth.

“Just look at you, baby, doing so well. Making me so hard just from watching.” You opened your eyes again. Seeing Sy slowly fisting his cock as he watched you with hooded eyes, made you tumble over the edge, screaming his name. Your knees gave out as your pussy clenched around your fingers. Sy took you in his arms and pressed gentle kisses on your face.

“You are the most gorgeous thing ever when you come, darlin’,“ he whispered in your ear. His cock was pressing against your hip as he cradled you in his arms and you just knew you needed to feel him once more.

“Please fuck me, Sy!” you told him bluntly. And he didn’t need to hear it a second time. His arms wrapped around your thighs as he lifted you, and then he had you pinned against the wall, his cock slipping into your wet pussy effortlessly.

The moment it went in was always something that made you weak. But the ferocity with which Sy entered you now was so intense, it left you whimpering. Your fingers dug deep into the flesh of his back. By the way he took you, you knew there would be bruises along your spine and on your thighs tomorrow, but those would only be sweet memories of how Sy had made you see stars.

And that he did, more than once. He fucked you relentlessly, slamming his hips into yours, accompanied by his deep grunts.

“Not gonna last much longer, sugar! You want me to come deep inside of you? Want me to fill your sweet little pussy?” Alone the thought of having his seed inside of you made your walls flutter.

“Fill me up Sy, please! I need to feel your cum dripping out of me.” There was another deep growl and he managed to get even deeper. You felt him grow bigger and shudder, and then he finally painted your pussy with his load.

Sy carefully put you down on your feet again and pressed his forehead against yours.

“You're making me act so hot-headed and greedy, darlin'. I promise, I will be more composed next time. Gonna take my sweet time with you.” You just couldn't hold back an incredulous laugh.

“Are you seriously apologizing for what you did to me? For making me come multiple times? You're something else, Sy!” His cheeks were glowing red and you asked yourself if this was due to the hot water, to his efforts or if you were maybe right, thinking he looked almost shy.

While Sy was rummaging around in the kitchen, you made your way to the bedroom, deciding it was time to finally get dressed again. At least making yourself halfway decent by putting on some panties and a shirt. You hoped to get your hands on one of Sy's. But sadly, his stuff was apparently still on the couch in the living room.

You opened the wardrobe and there was a collection of comfy looking knitted sweaters and sweatpants. But those were probably Sy's cousin’s, so you took your backpack and fished for the silky camisole you had packed in the hopes of spending the night at Sy's.

With a sigh, you let yourself fall onto the bed. Your heart was so full of joy right now, it was overwhelming. Your eyes roamed through the room. It was small, the bed filling it out almost completely, but it was so comfy. There were more fairy lights draped over the headboard. You wondered how often Sy's cousin used this cabin to seduce his dates. And if Sy had done so before, too.

This made you feel a little knot in your stomach. But you didn't dwell on it for long as you found what was lying on the bedside table.

“Sy, are you serious? A first date in a secluded cabin in the woods and then this?” As you circled the corner to meet Sy in the kitchen, you let the handcuffs dangle from your fingers.

Sy huffed in surprise, only to throw his head back in laughter the next moment.

“Guess that's my cousin's way of telling us to have fun.” You wrinkled your forehead, not sure how to take it.

Sy wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in a hug.

“He's a good guy, a cop even. Trust me?” he asked. And of course, you did. To be truly honest, you could totally see you and Sy having fun with those. You shook your head and put the handcuffs on the table.

Sy’s back shielded you from seeing what he was doing. You wrapped your arms around him, trying to get a glimpse over his shoulder but he shushed you out of the kitchen.

“Why don’t you sit down in front of the fire, darlin’? I’ll be with you in a minute.” You considered the couch for a minute, but then you chose to sit down on the plushy fake fur rug. If we go for tacky romantic cliché, why not go all the way? And Sy didn’t lie when he said he’d be right there with you. Just after you settled on the floor, he was behind you, carrying two flutes of champagne in his big paw, while the other one held a bowl with strawberries. You helped him put all of it down on the antique trunk that served as a coffee table.

It could have been perfect. If your mind had just been quiet. But sadly, your insecurities resurfaced exactly now. You really didn’t want to think about it, but you couldn’t help it. It just appeared in your head. And before you could bite your tongue, it had slipped out of your mouth.

Sy sat down next to you, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before he fed you a strawberry. The second you had swallowed, his mouth was back on yours, kissing you fiercely. “Sweet little thing you are,” he said, licking his lip.

“That’s so corny!” you laughed. “Who would have thought the big captain was such a hopeless romantic?” But to your surprise, Sy didn’t seem to be uncomfortable in any way. You’d rather say he appeared to be proud. And rightfully so. You were totally smitten with the man sitting at your side.

“So, how many girls have you already allured in this cabin with those cheesy little tricks, Sy?” What a way to kill the mood. Sy’s face changed immediately. His eyebrows were drawn together, a deep furrow formed on his forehead. He moved away a few inches. Damn, you really had to screw up this moment? You saw the disappointed expression on his face, and you knew you had to apologize. It was none of your business what Sy had done with other women before you two had started dating. You were already mumbling a few words, but Sy interrupted you by pressing his finger onto your lips.

“Listen, baby! I shared the bed out here in this cabin only with two other people. With Walter and Evan.” Your face surely mirrored your confusion because Sy added: “My cousins!” He took one of your hands into his and started rubbing his thumb over your palm.

“I already told you earlier. I haven’t been with someone for quite some time. If you like, I can tell you about it. Maybe it will help you realize and accept how special you are to me.” His eyes stared deep into yours, as you nodded for him to go on.

“I met Charlotte in high school. She was smart and cute, and I had the feeling that she liked me, not only as the captain of the football team, but me, my personality. She was my first love, my first everything. I thought about asking her to become my wife when I had to leave overseas for the first time. Thank god, I didn’t.”

Sy paused, catching a breath. “I had been out of the country for ten weeks when her letter arrived. I was so excited to hear from her. But then, after I had read the first sentences, I was broken. It was a Dear John letter. A classic. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. We can stay friends. You will always have a place in my heart… I swore never to let anyone that close to my heart again. And I stayed true to that. Until I met you.”

Your mouth felt dry. There was so much you wanted to say, but somehow no word found its way out of your mouth. Sy lifted one of his hands and brushed his knuckles over your cheek. You parted your lips once more and managed to mouth a shaky “Why me?”

Sy chuckled, his eyes drifting off, as if he was focusing on something you couldn’t see. “That day on the beach. I can’t explain why. I was mesmerized by you. The way you laughed with Megan. When I watched you reading. I just knew that you are different. I couldn’t let the chance go to learn why I was so drawn to you. And then we talked. You were so fuckin’ cute when I saw that filthy book. I wanted to kiss you and tell you that I wanted to do all those things to you. But of course, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to scare you away. And when you jumped into my arms that evening, the only thing I could think of was that I wanted to never put you down again. You should have just stayed there forever, your legs wrapped around me and your head on my shoulder. On that day, I realized that you saw me. The real me! And you liked it. I couldn’t do anything other than open my heart for you.”

“You didn’t learn all of this from your high school sweetheart, did you?” You made sure to show him an honestly amused smile. Sy raised his eyebrow with a smirk.

You practically jumped into Sy’s lap and crashed your mouth onto his. That man did not only know how to plan the perfect date, he also knew exactly how to use his words to make you fall in love with him so hard.

You made out on that stupid rug, sharing deep kisses, grinding your bodies against each other. Sy found the perfect spots for his mouth, for his hands and for his hips to drive you crazy. After you had moaned his name another time into his mouth, a new thought crossed your mind. This time it wasn’t jealousy that formed it, only upright curiosity.

“All of this?” he asked, even if he knew perfectly well what you were talking about. With an eye roll, you gave him what he wanted to hear:

“You fuck like a sex god, Sy! How did you learn that if you were alone all the time?” A smile played on the corner of your mouth as you took in how Sy puffed out his chest at your statement.

“Sugar, I said I let no one near my heart. I didn’t say I was living like the fucking pope!”

You chuckled and ran your hand over his chest. “I like those skills, you know?”

“That’s my good girl!” he praised you. Another few soft licks along your entrance. “That’s it, doing so good for me, baby!”

Sy laughed. “Thought so!” His hands brushed along your sides to tickle you and you squirmed in his lap. Another gentle touch along your rib cage made you fall onto your back. Your legs were opened wide before him and your shirt had slid up to expose the underside of your breasts.

And that changed the mood in the room another time. Sy watched you with hooded eyes as your chest was heaving.

“Darlin’ you know what makes me really mad right now? We’ve been together for hours and I still haven’t gotten my mouth on your beautiful sweet pussy.” He was really pouting at you, and you couldn’t hold back a laugh. But it got stuck in your throat when Sy pulled down your panties in one swift motion and sank his head between your thighs. His arm wrapped around your waist, he held you in place while he was running his tongue through your folds. By the time he was switching between circling your sweet spot and rolling it between his lips, your screams echoed from the walls. You wriggled in the arm that was still hooked around your frame, trying to move closer to him, to find enough friction, so you could finally find your release. But Sy was having none of it; he was holding you down, giving you just the amount to keep you on the edge.

“Please, Sy! I need to come!” you begged him, but he only hummed into your mound. He kept just lapping and sucking and licking and making you go insane. A deep growl came from him, and you saw him pressing his hips into the floor in search of some release for himself. “Let me come, Sy! Please!” you screamed, frantic by now by the way he was edging you, and Sy finally had mercy. He doubled his efforts with his tongue while he pushed two fingers into you. From then, it needed just some more pumps until you came undone at last.

Your legs were shaking uncontrollably while the rest of your body felt boneless, like you were melting into the floor.

Sy got on his knees beside you and lifted you up as if you weighed nothing. He carried you into the bedroom and carefully put you down onto the mattress. After pressing a chaste kiss onto your head, he slid his boxers down his thighs and lay down on the bed behind you.

"You up for another round or do you need some sleep, sugar?" he asked you and by the sound of it you knew it was an honest question. He wanted you to feel comfortable, whatever it was that you needed right now.

"You promised me some love making," you told him lazily, and you could feel Sy grin into the crook of your neck, his whiskers tickling your soft skin.

"So that's what you'll get," he whispered into your ear. With another firm grip, he turned you on your back and settled between your legs. And then made up to his promise and took his sweet time.

There were tender kisses and gentle touches. There were fingers slowly trailing along your body. Lips that brushed over sensitive skin. And words, so many lovely words that he purred into your ears.

"I want to feel your skin on mine. I want your breath in my hair. I want your hands on my body. Every day, darlin!"

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession.

"I want that, too, Sy. I want you!" While your tongues danced with each other, you felt his cock press against your mound, and you almost regretted that you had asked him to take it slowly.

But when he entered you, when he slowly moved, there was no regret left. You devoured his kisses, you relished his weight that was pressing you down, you savored feeling him inside of you with every of his languid strokes. This time it wasn't chasing pleasure, it was feeling each other deeply. It was making love.

***

It took you a second to remember where you were when you woke up. Your next thought was that something felt wrong. That blissful warmth that had you enveloped the whole night was gone. You opened one eye and turned to see that the spot next to you was empty. Sadness pooled in your stomach. Your arm brushed over the sheets and it felt cold. Sy had left you alone in the bed for a while already.

Pouting, you got up. Your first guess was to find him in the bathroom. To your further disappointment, the shower showed that it had been used, but the adonis-like body was nowhere to be seen.

With a sigh, you chose to go through your bathroom routine before you carried on with your search.

And while you were brushing your teeth you took in something that you hadn't noticed until now. There was a scent of fresh baked bread lingering in the air.

Curious, you didn't bother getting dressed. You opened the door to the main room and there he was. Just in his boxers he was standing at the counter, dipping his hips to a song he was quietly humming.

The scent of freshly baked goods was a lot stronger here. On your tiptoes you carefully approached him. You didn't want to interrupt the scene. Wanted to get as much of that picture as possible. Your man, singing in the kitchen, making you breakfast.

Your arms were already stretched out to wrap around him when you heard his mirthful voice:

"Mornin' sugar!" He turned and pressed a kiss on your forehead. You hummed as you leaned into his touch.

As he retreated you took in your surroundings. It wasn’t chaotic, but you could tell that Sy had been quite busy in the kitchen. There were eggshells and remains of flour on the counter, a bowl with remnants of dough was standing in the sink. You bent forward to take a glimpse into the oven. There was a whole tray full of bread rolls, already showing a golden crust.

“You didn’t get up to make homemade rolls, Sy?” you asked, even if it was obvious that he, in fact, had done exactly that. Sy pulled you back into his arms with a proud smile on his face.

“Forgot to bring bread and I was hungry. And I thought you might need some nutrients, too, after last night.” He wouldn’t ever stop being a smug bastard, and you loved him for it. Ah, no, you couldn’t say you love him, not that soon, right? Better not think about it anymore, so you decided to get back to kissing him.

Those kisses smoothly transformed into a making out session and it didn’t take long until Sy had his hands on your rear and lifted you up to sit on the counter. He glanced over to the timer of the oven and smiled. “We got another fifteen minutes. Any idea how to fill that time?”

Your hands trailed down his back to the waistband of his boxer briefs, your fingers slipping under it, so you could cup his glorious rear.

“I might have an idea of what you could fill,” you cooed and Sy answered with a snort. He pressed his groin to your center, and you could feel that he was on board with your suggestion. Four hands were working to pull down his underwear and the next moment he lined up his swollen head at your already dripping entrance.

The alarm of the timer went off exactly as you left the shower and Sy went for the kitchen, wrapped in a towel, not without a small slap on your butt. After you got dressed you found him on the deck. He had the bread rolls, jam, peanut butter and the strawberries that you had left behind yesterday, displayed on the table. There was a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you.

Without hesitation, he plunged all the way into you and started to pound hard. Your pussy was sore by now, but you couldn’t care less. Gasping, you took him, as deep as he could reach. The tip of his cock brushed over your most sensitive spot with every thrust, and he had you moaning and crying out his name in no time.

You came around his cock, clenching him with your tightening walls, bringing him over the edge with you. Still connected, Sy lifted you up and carried you to the shower. He shielded you from the water with his broad back until it was warm enough. Then he put you down on your feet again and started to lather your whole body.

Sy leaned against a post and looked out over the lake, another mug of coffee in his hand. You could get used to this sight in the morning. Somehow seeing Sy like this was comforting. When he noticed you, he held out his arm and you leaned into his embrace, snuggling into his still bare chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair and mumbled: “Let’s get you something to eat, sugar.”

You spent most of the morning sitting by the lake, talking and kissing. Sy fed you warm bread rolls and more strawberries. By the time you had finished a second cup of coffee, you both knew it was time to pack your stuff and get home. You were meant to meet Megan tonight and Sy had promised his mom to show up for dinner.

A sigh escaped you when you stepped out of the cabin a last time and Sy locked the door. You both stared over the water once more, Sy’s arms wrapped around you tightly. “Did you enjoy this, baby?” he asked. You turned to look at him and cupped his cheek, your hand looking so small on his beautiful face.

“This was the best first date I ever had, Sy.” you told him. Sy hummed, content with your answer. “That’s good, darlin’. Because it will be the last first date you’ve ever been on.”

#something like that #syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x reader #bonfire series #my writing

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bradshawsbaby · 4 months

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Letters to My Love // Part X

Rosie the Riveter

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Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: I'm so sorry for how long it's taken me to update this story! One of my goals for 2024 is to get this series completed. Although it's taken me so long to update, Bobby and Peach are never far from my mind and are always in my heart. I hope you enjoy this latest installment of their story!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

The title of this chapter is obviously a tribute to the iconic figure of Rosie the Riveter. But it was also inspired by the song of the same name by The Four Vagabonds, which you can listen to here!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, Clara (@luminousnotmatter). She was the first person to listen to all my endless ramblings about this universe, and she has never stopped supporting me or believing that I can get it finished. Thank you, Clara!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to casualties of war and grief, slight angst, lots and lots of fluff.

July 8, 1943

My Dearest Peach,

I want to start by saying that I’m terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to respond to your last letter. I think I’ve worn down the paper to nearly nothing with how many times I’ve read it, but it’s been hard to get a free moment to sit and write you the response you deserve. Things are really heating up over here, and we have to be ready to move at a moment’s notice. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to start a new letter, only for us to be called up just as I set my pen to the paper.

To set your mind at ease, I want you to know that I’m alright. I’m not sure how much information they’re sharing with you all back home, but I know one of the fellas got a letter from his wife recently and she told him that three different families on their street got notified that their boys had been killed in action in just one week. It made her real scared that she was going to be the next one getting a knock on the door. I won’t lie to you, Peach, because I don’t think that’s fair—we’re losing a lot of men over here. It’s scary to think that any day now, it could be me they’re sending a flag home for.

I hate to start this letter off so morbidly, but there’s been something weighing on my mind lately, especially since my buddy got that letter from his wife. If anything happens to me over here, you won’t know. They’ll tell my family, sure, but not you. And I can’t stand the thought of you waiting for another letter that isn’t going to come. So I’ve spoken to Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny about it. If anything happens to me over here, Peach, they’re going to write to you and let you know. It gives me some comfort to think that their words will be a little softer and kinder than the formality of Uncle Sam.

I hope this doesn’t make you sad, Peach, although I admit it makes me a bit sad to write. The truth is, I’m quite alright right now, like I said, and I don’t plan on letting anything happen to me over here. We have to take that drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier, after all. I tell you, that thought alone is enough to get me through even the hardest days over here.

Alright, enough of all this. Time to get back to your lovely letter. They’re calling us for dinner right now, but as soon as I’m finished, I’m coming right back to continue this letter. Nothing’s going to stop me from getting it to you.

I’m back, Peach. All the fellas were teasing me in the galley because of how quickly I scarfed down my dinner, but I didn’t care because I knew I was getting back to you and your sweet words, and that means a whole lot more than the crummy food they’re serving over here. Boy, I tell you, I sure do miss home-cooked meals. They even had—I’m not lying, I promise—they even had peach cobbler for dessert tonight. It made me think of you, but I’m sure it’s nowhere near as good as the cobbler your family makes, so I didn’t even bother giving it a taste.

Now I do have to say that you’re right, of course. I hate hearing you call yourself shy and mousey. If that’s the way you feel when I call myself boring, then I certainly promise I won’t ever do it again. It’s a deal—neither of us will talk about ourselves like that anymore.

Nothing you say could ever sound silly to me, Peach. Even though we only got to spend a few hours in each other’s company, your letters have made me feel like we’ve known each other for years and years. I’m honored that I’ve been able to make you feel seen. I do see you, Peach. You’re the most beautiful, interesting, intelligent girl I’ve ever known, and I hope you can see that in yourself. For what it’s worth, you’ve helped me to come out of my shell, too. Paul was just saying the other day that I look like a new man—that I’m standing taller and seem more confident than he’s ever seen in all the years he’s known me. I had just finished reading one of your letters when he said that. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. You’re turning me into a new man, Peach, and I like it. I like it a lot.

I’m glad that you passed along my well wishes to Emily. Even though part of me still thinks her fiancé is a dunce, I do wish them all the best. Has she heard from Eddie? I don’t know where he’s stationed, but if you’d like to find out and send the information to me, I can try to keep an ear out. How has the wedding planning been going? I’m still confident you’re going to make the prettiest bridesmaid.

I did pass along your invitation in my last letter home to my family, and my mother said she would certainly inquire after the Sheridan residence should she ever happen to find herself in Charleston. I think she’s happy that you and I are still writing to each other. She’s even happier about the thought of swapping recipes with you. Watch out—if the two of you ever do meet, I think she’ll hold you hostage in the kitchen all day.

Now I am very proud to hear about all the fine work you and Dottie have been doing with your Victory Garden. I’m sure there must have been a lot of progress since you last wrote to me! I eagerly await news about the beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. I’m sure you’ve been able to make lots of hearty soups and healthy salads. My mouth is watering at the notion. Like I said, the food in the galley has been pretty crummy lately.

I’m sorry to hear there’s been some trouble back home. I’m sure it can’t be easy for anyone, with all the rationing and the fear and the worry. I promise that we’re doing our best over here to bring this war to an end quickly so that life can return to normal for all of you over there. For us, too. We really can’t wait to be home again.

Peach, I want you to know that it is our duty, our honor, and, quite frankly, our privilege to be fighting for you over here. I know the other fellas would agree with me saying so. So I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything at home to “earn” us fighting for you. That said, I think it’s incredible that you want to contribute to the war effort in that way. I’m sure you haven’t been waiting for my response or my approval—which you shouldn’t, by the way—but I give a wholehearted yes to you applying for that position at the air station. We just recently saw Mr. Norman Rockwell’s illustration of Rosie the Riveter on the cover of the Post, and I have to say that I think you’d wear those coveralls a hundred times better.

I’m so proud of you, Peach. I want you to know that.

Speaking of the war effort, we have a couple big campaigns coming up very soon. I can’t say much more than that, but your well wishes and prayers for success would be very much appreciated. I’m always thankful for them.

Until next time, Peach! I’m already counting down the days until your next letter arrives.

Most Truly Yours,

Bobby

P.S. I almost forgot! I told Paul how much you loved the fact that he sends drawings home to Clara and Paul, Jr.—by the way, that reminds me, how is little Frankie doing?—and he was more than happy to create a few illustrations for you. He did a couple portraits—one of me and one of you, based off your beautiful photograph. He said to apologize that he’s too much of an amateur to capture all of your beauty. He did say that he thought he did a fine enough job capturing my likeness—I’m telling you, Peach, I think my friends officially like you better than they like me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

July 31, 1943

My Dearest Bobby,

Please don’t ever feel like you need to apologize for how long it takes you to write back to me. I can only imagine how difficult it is to find the time to write with everything that must be happening over there, and yet you always find the time to pen the most thoughtful and wonderful letters. I cherish each and every one of them, and I promise that I’m more than content to read your old letters as I await the new ones.

I’m so sorry to hear about how many of our boys we’re losing. Just last week, our neighbors, the Pattersons—you remember I mentioned Mrs. Patterson had helped me and Dottie with our Victory Garden?—received news that their son, Clarence was killed in action in France. It was devastating. Dottie and I had just been coming home from the grocery store when we saw the officer standing on their front steps with a telegram in hand. We knew what that meant. Mrs. Patterson has been inconsolable since. Mr. Patterson is equally devastated, but I think he’s trying to be strong for her. Dottie and I have been taking turns cooking meals for them and spending some time over at their house. We just want them to know that they’re not alone.

I admit, Bobby, that every time I hear news of someone else being lost in this war, I immediately think of you. It feels selfish, but I’m always so relieved when the news is about someone else and not you. I don’t know how I would bear it. I pray every day that I never have to receive that letter from Paul or Tommy Boy or Benny, but I am touched that you’ve thought about how I could be notified. Oh, Bobby, I hope more than anything that your parents never have to experience what the Pattersons are going through.

But you’re right—you’re going to come home safely. We have too many plans for you to do otherwise!

I’m sorry to hear that the food aboard your carrier has been so crummy lately. I wish that I could whip up a home-cooked feast and send it in the mail with my letters. Every time I sit down to dinner now, I think of all of you, and I count my blessings. Things aren’t perfect on the homefront, but I know that we certainly have no room to complain with all you boys are going through. I promise to have a peach cobbler waiting for you when you come home—and a pumpkin pie, for good measure.

If I’m turning you into a new man, Bobby, then you simply must know that you’re turning me into a new woman as well. I hardly remember the girl that I was before I met you. Can you believe that it’s been over a year now since our paths first crossed? I feel like my life is totally different now. The way that I see myself, the way I interact with others, the way that I’m not so terrified to step out of my comfort zone anymore—so much of that is thanks to you, Bobby. I’m still me, of course. But I feel like I’m a stronger, braver version of myself now. I like it, too.

It’s so kind of you to offer to keep an ear out for Eddie’s infantry! Emily received a letter from him around the same time that I received my letter from you, and he seems to be doing well, same as you, thank goodness. Eddie is part of the 1st Infantry Division. Emily said that last she knew, he was stationed somewhere near the Rhineland. The wedding planning has been going very well. Pretty much everything is set now—all we need is the groom. Emily can’t wait for Eddie to come home for good. Once he does, they’ll be able to officially set the date. Us bridesmaids are going to be wearing lilac-colored dresses. Dottie says she already knows how she’s going to style my hair. I hope that you’re home, too, when the wedding finally happens. Emily said that I could invite you to be my date. Only if you’d like that, of course.

I would be very happy to be kept hostage in the kitchen with your mother! I’m sure there’s so much I could learn from her, and it sounds like a splendid way to spend the day. I look forward to meeting her one of these days!

Oh, the Victory Garden, Bobby! You wouldn’t believe how it’s grown! Trust me, no one is more shocked than me and Dottie. Well, maybe Paddy. He knows firsthand what brown thumbs my sister and I normally have. At first, we weren’t so sure what was going to happen—the cucumbers seemed a bit small and some of the tomatoes didn’t really take. But by the end of June, everything was thriving! It’s been such a joy to watch, and I have to admit, both Dottie and I are feeling extremely accomplished. Frankie loves to spend time in the garden with us, although he spends a bit more time digging in the dirt than helping us pick vegetables, I’m afraid. Now that we’re in the middle of summer, we’re experimenting with zucchini and eggplant. We might also try radishes and turnips. We’re turning into quite the farmers! If your mother has any recipes to share, we’d be more than grateful and happy to try them out!

Now I admit that I’ve saved the most exciting news for last. At the beginning of June, I decided to go for it and I applied for the position at the air station in Goose Creek, the one Paddy told me about. I’m sure being his sister-in-law gave me a bit of an advantage, but it only took a couple days for me to hear back from them. I got the job! I’ve officially been working on the assembly line since the middle of June. It’s hard work, and I’ve never been so tired in all my life, but I have to say that I’m really proud of the work we’re doing. It’s funny that you mention Rosie the Riveter—my job these past few weeks has actually been to fasten pieces of the planes we’re assembling with rivets! So I guess you could call me Peach the Riveter. Doesn’t have quite the same ring though, does it?

I know that the chances are small that anything I’m helping to build is going to reach you specifically, Bobby, but I can’t help but smile every time we finish a new part, or get a new plane put together. I imagine you and Paul, or Tommy Boy or Benny hopping inside and it brings me more pleasure and pride than I could possibly explain. I feel like I’m doing something important, something meaningful and special. If spending hours riveting until my fingers turn numb brings you home even a day faster, then it will all have been worth it. And it gives me a real sense of purpose, driving to work each day with Paddy. I feel proud of myself.

I’ve made some new friends at work, too! Florence and Virginia—we call them Florie and Ginny—are the loveliest, kindest girls. They had already been working on the assembly line for a few months before I got the job, so they’ve been showing me the ropes and teaching me everything they know. They’ve made me feel so welcome, so a part of things. I have to admit that I was terrified my first week or so, terrified that I was going to mess something up or make a fool of myself. But I’ve settled in quite well, thankfully.

It means a lot to me to know that I have your support, Bobby. Truly, it does. Thinking of you and all that you’re doing to protect us is what really motivated me to take this job, so thank you.

Of course I’m sending all my best wishes for the campaigns you have coming up! Wherever you are right now, I pray that you’re safe and that your missions are successful.

You’re so brave, Bobby. Have I told you that lately? Even if I have, you deserve to hear it again. I’m so, so proud of you. You’re my hero.

I hope this letter gets to you soon. I wish it could grow wings and fly to you. I know time is going to pass so slowly until I’m holding a new letter from you in my hands. But until then, Bobby, I’m thinking of you and holding you in my heart.

Most Truly and Affectionately Yours,

Peach

P.S. Paul is quite the artist!!! I now have his portraits hanging right beside the photographs you sent me. Please tell him how talented I think he is, and how much I love the drawings he made for me! I was especially touched by the little note he wrote me on the back of your portrait. I hope he’s doing well. Send my best to him and Tommy Boy and Benny!

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