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kyberblade · 2 days

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Back To You - (Din x Reader) Epilogue/Prologue for Close To Home

A/N: IT IS HEREEEEEEE!!! So sorry it took so long. So much happens. I was going to divide this and then I thought, “Hmmmmm…. No.” As one does. Another note at the end to avoid spoilers. Seriously. Don’t read it until you’ve read the whole thing. You’ve been warned. I have spoken. This is the way. Yada yada yada. …..You just jumped forward and came back didn’t you? 🙄 Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.

There are parts of this you won’t understand if you didn’t read the Dincember 2022 Drabble Carry You With Me, but they are very small mentions, you will be fine as a whole if you don’t want to read it. But why wouldn’t you? 🥺

(This takes place two years after the other one, and goes to the beginning-ish of episode 1/5 of TBoBF, Return of the Mandalorian.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, (Nobody touch me he’s still here okay?) and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Helmetless Din. What? Who said that? 😬 Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Return of past characters. Tears. Shenanigans. Lots of banter. Throwback to chapter one with dialogue repeats but in the best™️ way, and copious amounts of me trying to work in back to you as a normal thing in a sentence bc why not.

Word count: 16,655 (I said what I said.)

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

And for @fordo-kixed-rex, you deserve so much more than a shoutout for reading all 75 million iterations of this massive chapter from start to finish, and helping me in between. You’re a real one, friend. This series would not have gotten this far without you.

Also a shoutout to @what-the-heckin-heck, @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis, @lloweryourstandardss, and @littlemisspascal for being a sounding board for me over this whole process. (Also to @deceiver-of-gods for all of your help over all the chapters with the Mando’a. I hope I got it right in this one.)

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Xxx

Two years later….

Tatooine was bustling. As always. Vendors with their wares, smells and brilliant sights everywhere you turned. Something new and exciting to pull you in and suck all your credits dry just like the planet's heat stole every drop of moisture….

But it was all nothing without the kid. It was dull and drab without Grogu at your side. His soft babbles, the odd ‘Patu’ he’d throw at the next snack he’d like to steal….

Dank farrik! Turning away from the hanging frogs at the nearest vendor, you swiped at the most recent batch of tears rising to the surface. Sniffling loudly, you melted into the warm hand that came to rest on your back, eyes fluttering shut.

“It’s okay, mesh’la. I miss him, too.” The modulated voice at your ear carried unspoken sorrow of its own, sadness it’d never dare to even whisper into the universe, lest that make it real. If he kept it hidden, secret…. Like his face, nothing in the galaxy could use it against him. Somehow it made him stronger. And you both resented that and wanted to squeeze the life out of him for it at the same time.

“It’d be nice if you’d show it once and a while….” You grumbled, turning toward him but keeping your eyes cast down to stare at the sand.

His hand fell to his side slowly. “What?” Head tilting to the side as he peered down at you in question, barely any space left between you, it leaned the other way when you shook your head with a sarcastic grin.

“Nothing. Forget it.” Your eyes lifted up to meet his visor finally, squinting against the glare of the twin suns. “Got everything?”

Din nodded. “Almost. Just need the-”

His words were cut short when the satchel across his chest suddenly dropped to the ground, the strap cut inconspicuously by a passing Rhodian seeming to casually bump into the Mandalorian only moments before.

You turned to try and find the culprit but Din tugged on your upper arm.

“Forget about him. He’s just the-” Both of you looked down at the ground to find the satchel missing, “-distraction.”

You smirked. “I see.”

As Din’s head began to swivel in search of the thief, you attempted to reach out through the crowd with the Force, searching for the familiar signature of the contents in the satchel.

“How did you not get an alert?”

Now your head was on a swivel. Directly to the Mandalorian. “A what?”

“You know.” He wiggled his fingers like Cara always did when referencing the Force. “Why didn’t you know?”

You rolled your eyes with a sigh, looking back to the crowd. “It doesn’t work that way.” The world weary words you’d said a thousand times felt like a mantra at this point. Then after a moment you added, “I’m not a security system.”

“Well that would be handy,” Din said offhandedly, beginning to walk purposefully in the direction the two of you had come not minutes before.

Stumbling after him, your face scrunched like you’d eaten something sour, you pulled on his upper arm to try and turn him around, but it only stopped him, his head still on a swivel. “Wait, what?!”

Din sighed in frustration. “I don’t know. I’m just looking for the thief. That bag has something impor-”

“Your old armor, I know.” Din’s full attention was on you now, his head tilted slightly in question. “Everything has an energy, that’s a really simplified way of how the Force works. Right now I’m trying to track the signature of your armor.”

“What is it?” He asked hesitantly, his weight shifting to one side.

Smiling softly, you took a step forward, grabbing his hand and pulling him down a side alley toward where you felt the signature grow stronger. “Nothing but goodness, Man- Din. Light and strength.” You stumbled over his name, still not used to using his actual moniker in public.

He chuckled at your fumble, shaking his head in disbelief. “From that dingy old stuff?”

“It’s not the quality of the armor that I’m reading.” You looked at his visor over your shoulder, eyebrow raised. “It’s the quality of the warrior who wore it.” Turning back forward to navigate between the street crowded with lifeforms, one side of your mouth lifted in amusement. “That type of thing leaves an impression.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he finally grumbled quietly. When you looked back at him once again, your brow arched higher than before, he huffed. “How did you know it was there?”

Smiling softly as you held the gaze of his visor, you turned back to face forward, moving a bit faster. “You’re about as subtle as your new armor.” Din let out a soft, annoyed groan. “I saw you packing it back in Peli’s hangar.”

“I can be subtle,” he groused, slowing his steps slightly.

With your own groan, you turned to face him with a toss of your head for emphasis. “Yes. So subtle, Mandalorian. My big, shiny tin can. Now come.” Grabbing his hand once again with both of yours, you began to walk backwards, pulling him along with you. “We have a thief to catch.”

The alley had quieted down, the masses of beings thinned out so it was basically only you and Din, and maybe a handful of beings milling about, using the cross way as a shortcut to somewhere else. No one was lingering, their faces streaking by as they hurried to move on with their day.

“Hold that thought.” Din pulled you to a stop, planting his feet as he turned his head toward a crate on his left. On top of the box sat his satchel, untouched, his armor still causing it to look awkward and lumpy. “We may have just lucked ou-”

A surge of panic behind you caused you to turn toward the source, a small figure darting out of your line of sight as a familiar small voice muttered, “Oh shi-” before spinning around in Din’s hold, his grip around their forearm holding them tight.

“Okay, you little nerf herder, nice try- Sola?” Din’s voice dropped on the name.

You turned to fully face the pair, eyes going wide on the small girl now a young adult, maybe twelve, possibly thirteen years old now.

She looked between the two of you, her expression a mirror of your own, as her body deflated in Din’s hold, her weight going slack in his grip while she cried in disbelief, “It’s you?!”

You couldn’t help the highly intelligent thing that tumbled out of you next. “It’s you?!”

Sola sighed a sigh worthy of a Mandalorian before she grumbled, kicking one foot at the sand path of the alleyway. “I knew I recognized that armband.”

Reaching up, you traced over the ribbons on your left bicep with the tips of your fingers on your right hand, eyes darting down to look at it briefly before they pulled back up to level a stern glare on the girl.

Before anything else could be said, heavy footfalls came racing up behind your little gathering. A female stumbled the last few steps, coming to a stop and collapsing, slapping her hands onto her knees before you could see her face, struggling to catch her breath. You opened your mouth to greet the newcomer, but she held up one finger before you could utter a sound.

Din finally muttered in disbelief, “Cara?”

Your head whipped over toward the figure, eyes wider still. “It’s you?!” A hand came up to rest on your forehead, massaging back and forth as if that would help things sink in and make more sense. Your brows practically knit together in confusion with this new information, one arching up as you stared at the woman. “I’m so confused.”

Standing up, with one last heavy breath, Cara offered the two of you a tired smile. “Following up a lead.”

She held up a hand to stop Din before he could even ask, her eyes closing in mock annoyance. “Long story.” She opened them once again to land directly on you with a wink as Din sighed in exasperation before her attention turned onto Sola, her hand falling to gesture to the adolescent before landing at her side with a graceless slap. “And this little womp rat stole my commlink.”

Din looked down at the girl, giving her arm still in his grip a little shake. “This is Sola.”

The girl shrunk under the stare of three adults.

Cara’s gaze flicked up towards his visor, almost accusingly. “Friend of yours?” You nodded, and she sighed, hands going to her hips, weight shifting to one side. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Sola,” you tried calmly, going over to grab Din’s satchel before it was forgotten in the chaos. “Explain, please.”

“Nothing. It was nothing. I just grabbed hers by mistake, that’s all.” She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

Cara leveled a look on the girl, her tone dry. “Off my belt?”

Sola tried a grin. “Whoops?”

The Marshal lifted the look to Din.

“Don’t do that to me,” he complained. “I didn’t teach her that.”

“Don’t even pretend to look at me next, Cara,” you held up your hand to stop her before she even tried. “I only taught her good things.”

Sola rolled her eyes and tried to tug out of Din’s hold, but the Mandalorian easily held her in place.

“Have a seat,” you offered sweetly, pulling the crate the bag had been on toward you with the Force, and giving her a nudge to sit. “Talk.”

She stared over at the wall behind you, grinning in disbelief. “It was a dare, okay?” Her eyes pulled up to meet yours, their hard stare melting slightly once they did, revealing something vulnerable, something broken. Her voice softened just slightly, but still held the mock vibrato she started out with, making you huff as she continued. “Some kids dared me to take someone’s bag, and I was just unlucky enough to choose you.”

“And my comlink?” Cara tried.

Sola turned to her with a cheesy grin. “That was just bad luck on your end.”

“I’ll show you bad luck,” Cara grumbled, stepping closer to the teen.

You stepped between them. “Cara.”

“What?” She barked, trying to peer over your shoulder at the girl before looking you in the eyes.

“No.”

“She stole-”

“She’s a kid,” you corrected. “Tell me you didn’t do dumb stuff when you were her age. Hell, you do dumb stuff now.”

“You’re one to talk,” Cara grumbled.

You smirked, arms crossing over your chest as your weight shifted to one leg. “Ah, but I travel with a Mandalorian. What’s your excuse?”

Cara scoffed. “I knew him first, if we’re going that route.”

“I’m right here,” Din said, somewhat offended, reaching out to gently push Sola down by the shoulder without a second glance when she went to stand up.

You kept your voice even, mildly distracted as you spoke somewhat flippantly. “Mandalorians who shot their partner in the leg don’t get to talk right now.”

“I didn’t shoot you!” He protested, voice going up at the end in agitation.

“You shot her?” Cara asked at the same time Din spoke, turning to look at him with raised brows.

“I didn’t shoot her!” Din corrected before Cara could even finish, his visor swiveling back to you. “It was a ricochet.” His head tilted to the right as he stared at you. “On Gideon’s ship. The bolt bounced off the droid when she launched at it, and-”

You waved your hand dismissively, gaze landing on nothing in particular across the street. “Same thing.”

“It is no-”

“Ugh!” Sola threw her head back and groaned, staring at the sky with wide eyes, her voice went up with each following word. “This is torture!” Her head lowered back to look between the three of you, eyes narrowed to slits before they fluttered shut and she heaved another heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk.” She leaned back on her palms on the crate, her face finally relaxing to something more neutral. “Just…. Stop whatever…. This,” she gestured vaguely with one hand while her nose scrunched up slightly in disgust, “is.”

You turned back to face her, nodding for her to go on, but Din interrupted.

“Later.”

You rolled your eyes as he waved his finger at you in admonishment before landing them back on the girl, smiling softly. “Go on, Sola.”

She hesitated before taking a quick breath and letting it all out on an exhale, speaking quickly. “My parents are diplomats from a planet in the Mid Rim.”

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down, kid!”

Sola glared at you, taking an exaggeratedly deep breath before speaking overly clearly the rest of her explanation. “We’re here to broker peace between the different ruling houses and our world.”

“Hey, if you’re going to have an attitude, we can just leave,” you warned.

“Great!” Sola beamed. “Bye!” She went to rise from the crate but both Din and Cara pushed down on a shoulder on each side respectively, earning a soft oomph! from the teen.

She sighed resignedly before going on. “But as you can probably guess, that goes as smooth as sand in a hyperdrive.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not allowed to do anything. I have to keep up appearances, and stay inside most of the time now because we have gotten death threats after a deal gone bad recently.”

Din visibly stiffened beside her, Cara, too. A chill ran up your spine as she continued.

As she relaxed further back into the crate, her words seemed almost lazy, lackadaisical. “So I started sneaking out. Nothing major, just needed some fresh air, well, it’s Tatooine, so, air.” Her tone went rigid with her posture, the spark in her fading to a dull ember as her volume faded to a mere murmur. Her index finger traced lines along her knee as her eyes followed the invisible trails it made. “Then I met them.”

“Who?”

Sola met your eyes, almost startled when you asked, like she’d forgotten people were listening. She shrugged one shoulder, her eyes dropping back down to her lap, her tone still soft. “Doesn’t matter. A group of kids. They do petty crimes and stuff, I wasn’t going to do anything, but they said they were going to tell the people who had been sending death threats how I was sneaking in and out at night.” Her hand stilled, then began poking at the ankle of her foot tucked up under her absently, her eyes cast down at the ground. “They had been watching me, I guess. Let them know all our weak points in security. If I didn’t do a job for them, then they’d tell….”

“And one job turned into more….”

She nodded at your comment. Her eyes flickering up to meet yours for only a second before they pulled down again.

“Why didn’t you just tell your parents and beef up security?” Din’s voice was in planning mode.

Sola peered up at him, squinting against the suns’ light. “And prove I’d let them down?” She looked down at her lap, fiddling her thumbs. “Sneaking around, been committing petty crimes? Would you have done that?”

Din looked at the ground, his voice quiet. “Probably not.”

“Give me my comlink,” Cara said, holding out her hand toward the girl.

You huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Really, Cara? You hear all that and you’re still banging on about your damned-”

Once the device was in her hand, she took a few steps away and spoke into it in a professional voice. “This is Marshal Dune. Please call off the search. It wasn’t stolen, I just dropped it. Sorry for the confusion.” A male voice you couldn’t quite make out garbled over static on the other end. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Cara replied, turning to face the three of you. “Also, I’m going to take off the rest of the day. Found some booths I want to wander through. We’ll pick up our meeting tomorrow. Yeah. See you then.”

She made her way back over, clipping the comlink to her belt. “I just bought us about twelve hours. What’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Sola looked between the three of you with wide eyes.

You smiled. Her gaze was up and off the ground for the first time this conversation. And it was full of hope.

“Of course,” you said, smiling gently. “Nobody messes with a member of our family and gets away with it.” Sola grinned at your words. You’d do pretty much anything to keep it there. “Now, let’s go scare some thugs, shall we?”

Xxx

“Now, I know that you packed it,” you said, standing in the fresher of the Crest, voice jiggling as you hopped slightly to pull the armor higher up your chest. “But I don’t know why.”

“Oh, the Jedi is stumped, is she?” Din’s sarcastic amusement was muted through the door, making you roll your eyes.

Setting your weight to one hip, you pressed the button, and the durasteel barrier hissed open to reveal your Mandalorian leaning against the frame. His arms across his chest as he waited for you, his posture easy and relaxed, he looked like a growth on the walls of his ship.

Cara and Sola were out in the hangar with Peli, their voices faintly heard along with the annoyed bleeps and bloops of R5 as they echoed off the stone walls and up the open ramp.

“Not stumped,” you countered quickly, walking around him to the middle of the cargo hold as you pulled your gloves on, chin held high as you chose your next words with care. His visor followed you as you went. “Just…. Curious.” You finally landed on with a huff, looking down at your hands as they fiddled mindlessly before adding on a mumbled, “And I’m not a Jedi.”

Din pushed off the wall, his head shaking gently in disbelief as he walked toward you slowly. “I was going to have Boba melt it down and forge it into something better.” He stopped somewhere behind you. You were purposely not paying attention, trying not to get distracted and make sure your armor was set up correctly, only faintly registering the absence of the soft thud of his boots on the metallic floor of the Crest right behind you before he went on. “I don’t know where the armorer is right now, and it’s not full beskar anyway, so any smith could do it, but I trust him.”

“Something better?” You turned to face him, head tilted to the side as you clicked your vambraces into place, their gears whirring to life. Stumbling back an inch as you startled, his chest plate brushing against your nose he was so close, you reached out to swat his arm lightly in annoyance, muttering a Don’t do that and shaking your hand out to the side with a grimace after it pinged off his beskar. Craning your head back to look up at him properly, you couldn’t help the small grin when you found him already peering down at you. “Like what?”

Din’s head tilted just so to the right. “Something for you.” He didn’t miss a beat.

Your eyes widened slightly before they narrowed to slits. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He was smiling. You could tell by the lilt in his voice as he leaned into the tilt of his head, his body following and started down the ramp. “You know me so well.”

Reaching out, you grabbed his cape. “Nu-uh. Not so fast, Tin Can. Hold up.” Pulling him back to you, though he gave very little resistance, you leaned around to look into his visor when he was a few inches away, his hands on his hips in mock annoyance. “You don’t have to do that.” Your voice had gone soft. He turned to face you fully. “I know that armor is important to you.”

“So are you.”

You grinned. “Smooth, Shiny. Real smooth.”

Din shrugged one shoulder, his hands falling to rest at his sides loosely. “I have my moments.”

You nodded, starting down the ramp, and talking over your shoulder. “And they are few and far between.”

Din scoffed. “Lucky for you. You couldn’t handle me at full throttle.”

Grinning, you looked down at your vambraces and twisted them a bit. “That sounded like a threat.”

“It’s whatever you wanted it to be, mesh’la.”

“You look like a Mando.” Sola’s voice pulled your attention away from the man at your back before you could reply.

“What? In beskar?” You gestured to the armor down your body. “No.”

The young girl rolled her eyes at you.

Grinning, you reached up to adjust your scarf tucked in to make the armor fit a bit better, and noticed her posture go rigid.

“You kept it,” she mumbled, pointing lamely toward the blue material around your neck.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just….” She pulled at her flowing poncho, revealing her bright pink scarf, still vivid as ever, tucked away underneath, close to her heart. “I have mine, too,” she amended softly. “I keep it hidden so it doesn’t get dirty or torn.”

“Kind of like my armband….” You mumbled, closing the last few steps between you before reaching out to softly roll the fabric of her scarf between your thumb and index finger as she traced the ribbon on your bicep with the tips of her own.

“I still have no idea what hyperspace looks like,” she mused, staring at the glittering fabric with a sad smile. “I was so little when we came here, and my parents wouldn’t let me anywhere near a cockpit. I’ve only ever been in a cabin while the ship was moving. No viewports….” She met your eyes again, hand falling to her side. “Supposedly we flew beside some purrgil and even then they wouldn’t let me look.”

Letting your own hand fall to your side, fiddling with the air aimlessly, you held her gaze. “Why not?”

Sola shrugged. “Not sure. They said something about safety at the time, and I just never pressed it, but now it just feels suffocating.”

“I know it’s annoying,” Din chimed in softly from behind you, his shadow looming over the young girl in the dying sun’s light, “but I would give anything to have my parents be overbearing one more time.”

Sola’s eyes flew up to the Mandalorian. “What happened to them?”

“A story for another time,” he said stoically, turning to the right and going deeper into the hangar. “Let’s confirm the plan.”

You turned with Cara and Sola on your left to head that way, Peli falling in step on your right as the droids followed along behind.

“They aren’t around anymore. It happened when he was very young, about the same age as when we met you. That’s why he became a Mandalorian. That’s all I’ll say,” you offered quietly. “The rest is his story to tell.”

The first stars were twinkling overhead as the sky said good night in brilliant shades of red and orange.

Once your party had circled around one of Peli’s many cluttered tables off to the side, the top of it littered with ship parts, Din turned to you.

“Gar beskar'gam jate slanar?” (“Your armor good to go?”)

You nodded. “Elek. An jate.” (“Yes. All good.”)

Sola turned her head slowly up toward Cara, one brow arched in confusion.

The Marshal slowly shook her head, eyes closed. “They do this….”

“Do what?” You asked, brows knit toward your friend.

Cara leveled you with a look. “Start speaking in any one of a thousand languages none of the rest of us know.”

R5 started beeping animatedly, trilling as he wheeled back and forth on his treads excitedly, and ended on a raspberry, making you and Peli laugh.

“Oh, great,” Cara rolled her eyes, “even the droid’s are in on it.”

BD and Treadwell made their way into the circle, the Pit droids not far behind, all of them chattering away as they approached you until Din sent a blaster shot pinging off of a piece of scrap pipe over in a corner.

The droids all screeched before going silent, freezing in their steps as Peli cried in protest, “Hey! Watch it!”

“Yeah, we don’t want another ricochet,” you mumbled, adjusting your armor for no good reason besides looking down and away from his judgemental visor.

Cara and Sola snickered from their spots across the table from you, the weight of Din’s stare beside you nothing short of stifling.

“If you stare any louder, Din, they may ask you to be quiet all the way on Coruscant,” you muttered quietly, adjusting your vambraces needlessly for the umpteenth time to hide the growing smirk across your face.

“I’ll just tell them it’s because of you, they'll understand. Garner sympathy.”

Only your eyes lifted up to glare daggers at his visor, his head tilting to the side teasingly as he held your gaze.

“The plan?” You groused, looking across the table with a sigh as your weight shifted to one side - away from the Mandalorian.

His tone was light, as if it held a smile, while he laid out the steps of the plan one more time. “Sola said they would be meeting her back at the market in an hour. She meets them as planned. The three of us follow her, and stick around in the shadows, as inconspicuously as possible-”

“Says the man who’s a walking mirror.”

Din didn’t even bother to look at you, only sighing at your remark, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort before he went on. “From there, we follow them back to their base of operations. From what we’ve heard, shouldn’t be too hard to get into. We get in, cause a little chaos, get them to release Sola from this…. Contract, then we leave as quietly as we came.”

“No one dies.”

Cara nodded at your words, Din nodding once in agreement, his body going stiff at your next statement.

“Even if we run into a Jawa.”

He took a deep breath to begin to protest, but you held up a finger to stop him, mocking his words from earlier.

“Later.”

Xxx

Spotting the culprits was easy enough. They weren’t sly about anything as they paraded through the streets with their puffed up chests, smirking as people scattered from them should they get too close. They hassled a vendor or two, shaking them down for a payout, and Cara grumbled beside you, gripping the buckle that showed she was a Marshal tightly through her poncho she wore to conceal it.

Before you could do anything, Din was hot on their heels, handing the vendors a stack of credits to make reparations as soon as the thugs’ backs were turned. They would try and insist he keep it, lightly shoving the money back into his hands, but Din somehow managed to sweet talk them into accepting every time, his head ducked down slightly, hand over theirs in a calming gesture. You wished you could hear what he said.

“I’ve never seen this side of him,” Cara muttered offhandedly. “Caring, soft almost. It looks good on him.”

“Yeah, it does,” you agreed softly. “That’s how he is with the kid. Grogu brought out a side of him I don’t think would have seen the light of day otherwise.”

She elbowed you. “Oh, I dunno. You’re pretty persuasive. Think it’d’ve come out eventually.”

You slid only your eyes sideways to look at her. “Why must you shit talk me?”

“Because if I don’t I’ll simply fade away. It gives me sustenance. I could go days without food, but teasing you? That simply wouldn’t do.”

Turning your head to peer at her incredulously, you spoke in a low voice after a long moment of silence. “I’m going to go stand over there,” you pointed behind you, “as far away from you as possible right now.”

Cara scoffed. “Good. Go. Your beskar'gam is drawing too much attention, anyway.”

With a grin, you began walking backwards down the street, keeping to the shadows. “Aw, you paid attention.”

Your friend glared at you. “Don’t make me regret it.”

A shit eating grin was across your face. “You’re speaking Mando’a….”

Cara huffed, her attention turning back to the street as she mumbled, “Last time I make that mistake.”

Stopping short, you stood up straight. “Aw, don’t be afraid to show your feelings, Cara. Feelings are a good thing. They make us human-”

“If you don’t stop talking-”

“Are you two done?” Din’s voice across the alley from the two of you pulled both sets of eyes his way. “They left a few minutes ago, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, what with your bickering.” His head swiveled between you and the Marshal, judgment heavy through his visor. “Sola is with them, I gave her a tracker, slipped it to her when no one was looking while someone,” he looked at you pointedly, “wasn’t paying attention.”

“I was paying attention,” you groused, voice lowering as you kicked at the sand below your feet. “Just not to that.”

“She was talking about you,” Cara tattled, stepping out of the shadows and into the moonlight, stretching like a loth cat.

“So were you!” You protested, also stepping into the nightlight, making Cara squint as she held up a hand as if to block the glare of the reflection off your armor. Swatting her hand down, you knit your brows at her. “It’s not that bright out here, don’t be dramatic.”

“Children. I’m surrounded by literal children,” Din muttered, turning and walking away exasperatedly.

“There’s no need to be rude,” you grumbled, following after him.

“Then prove me wrong,” he called over his shoulder. “Right now you’re worse than Grogu.” You gasped. “When he needs a nap.” Cara gasped. “And he’s hungry.” You both gasped.

“I take it all back,” Cara stormed past Din, her words brusque and aloof. “You’re the meanest person I know.”

“Person?” Your tone was incredulous as you sped up to fall in step with her ahead of the Mandalorian, head swiveling to land on him with a sly smirk over your next word. “Droid.”

Din stopped in his tracks and sighed, head tilting back to the sky just slightly with a gentle shake. “Oh, this mission is off to a great start.”

When both you and Cara kept walking ahead of him, the bounty hunter finally called out on a hiss, “Hey! Are you two done?”

“I don’t know, are we?” You turned on your heel to face him, hands on your hips as you planted your feet and arched your brows in question, almost accusingly.

Din bit his tongue before he turned this into a whole something else before this entire endeavor even got off the ground…. again. For the third? fourth? time. He’d lost track of how many times they’d gotten off track in the last five minutes alone, let alone today as a whole.

With a jut of his thumb to his left down a narrow alley, he tilted his head that way for emphasis. “Thugs’re that way.”

Both you and Cara hesitated for only a moment, weight shifting slightly from side to side before you dropped your hands from your hips with a huff and headed toward the alley, your Marshal friend in tow.

As you passed by Din, he muttered a low and amused, “Oh wise one.”

“I’ll tell Sola you said so,” you shot back in a low murmur. “She already knows I’m the smart one.” The alley was so small you had to form a single file line, and somehow you were in the front with Cara behind you, and Din pulling up the back.

“She just lets you think that’s what she thinks,” Cara hummed. “We all know it’s me.”

Din snorted. “It’s neither of you.” He shook his head at the two sets of eyes shooting daggers at him over their shoulders as they came to an abrupt stop in front of him. “I’m the one with the map and the tracker, remember?” He tapped the right side of his helmet with his index finger.

“Oh, will you just get in front and lead, you overgrown Tin Can?!” You hissed, flattening yourself against the wall to let him pass, the heat of the day still clinging to the wall at your back.

Cara rolled her eyes as she squished herself, allowing him through, but it was still a tight fit all around between the three of you. When Din passed her, his back against the opposing wall, she grimaced though he moved quickly. “Will you just get out of my face, Shiny?”

“What, you mean you don’t want to get to know me this well?” Din relaxed his weight a little, leaning into her slightly. “I thought we were friends.”

Cara shoved him with one arm toward you, making him laugh as he kept going, stumbling slightly from the impact. “We won’t be if you keep on that thread of conversation, Mando.”

Din stopped directly in front of you, tilting his head sideways as he muttered softly, “Hi, mesh’la.” Leaning his forehead into yours, he chuckled softly at Cara’s over exaggerated gag in reaction.

“I’m trying to be mad at you,” you grumbled, fisting one hand into his cowl as you ignored Cara’s groans, elbowing her in the ribs with your free arm when she continued.

“What was that for?!” She cried in protest.

“Just because I’m happy, doesn’t mean you need to moan about it.”

Her face scrunched in disgust as she looked away at the wall across from her. “Go be happy somewhere else. We have a job to do.”

Din sighed. “She’s right,” and pushed off the wall to get in front.

You held on to his cape from behind him. “No. No, she’s never right.” Cara landed a swift kick to the back of your boot. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For being so wrong all the time!”

“Don’t make me speak Mando’a to you,” you grumbled. “Or how about Huttese? I also know Shyriiwook now, too.”

“How about you speak silence.”

Din snorted at the Marshal’s words from his spot in front of you, Cara huffing out a laugh from behind.

“When all of this is over, you both are gonna pay.”

“You don’t scare me,” Cara scoffed.

Looking over your shoulder, you arched a brow, holding up one hand by your face and wiggling your fingers. “Well maybe I should.”

Her face went pale, her steps faltering slightly as understanding dawned on her features. “You don’t scare me,” she repeated, her voice softer after she swallowed roughly.

You chuckled, turning back to face Din’s cape once again. “The Force works in mysterious ways.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before you could answer, Din cut in, without bothering to turn around, “It's just her way of threatening to trip you. Don’t read into it too much.”

He no sooner said that than he was stumbling forward down the alley, reaching out to brace himself on the walls with his forearms.

“Look at that? My boot also works in mysterious ways.”

“What happened?” Cara asked, oblivious to you tripping Din with the toe of your shoe.

“Gravity. Don’t read too much into it.”

Grinning up at the back of the Mandalorian’s helmet where he had stopped in front of you, you let go of his cape still in your grip. “Careful, Din. There’s gravity there.”

“What did he even trip on?” Cara’s voice was incredulous.

“Air? His ego? Pride…. The options are endless….”

“The foot of an over eager Jedi that’s about to be in her mouth if she keeps talking,” Din hissed, barely looking over his shoulder at the two of you, arms falling from the walls to his sides.

“How do you mean?” You scoffed, following after him as he began to move down the alley again.

“We’re here,” he said with a flourish, the small avenue opening up to a wide street brightly lit with several buildings that dead ended down on the right. With a swooping gesture, he moved to the left, making room for the two of you to step forward beside him, his visor following you closely before tilting to the side. “You’re welcome.”

“She’s right,” Cara mused quietly. “Your ego is big enough for all three of us to trip on.”

“At least it’s well deserved,” Din groused. “I got us here, didn’t I?”

“You followed a map. That was attached to a tracker. A blindfolded bantha wouldn’t have had a much more difficult time….” You said offhandedly, surveying the area.

Din stared at you for a long moment. “That armor makes you mean,” he grumbled.

“It makes me wonderful,” you countered, eyes across the street on a conspicuous crate, narrowing when it jostled slightly. “You’re just jealous that it looks better on me than it ever did on you.”

“Yeah. That’s it,” Din agreed sarcastically, his weight shifting to one side as he followed your line of sight. Pressing the side of his helmet, he immediately went into planning mode. “I’ve got two heat signatures.”

“Matches up with what I’m sensing. Two life forms. A whole mess more inside.” You took your blaster from its holster, its gears whirring to life. “Everyone set to stun?”

Hums of agreement came back at you along with nods in your peripheral.

“I’ll go in on the right while you two take care of whoever is lurking over there,” Cara gestured across the street with her blaster. “Sneak in that side door and start clearing until I find Sola and slip her a blaster, then we’ll find this boss.”

“I’m in,” you agreed, while Din nodded in agreement beside you. “Let’s go, Tin Can. We have some thugs we need to introduce to beskar.”

Xxx

Storming the place was easy. These thieves didn’t know the first thing about defending their home base.

Getting out on the other hand…. That was proving to be more difficult.

You pulled up behind a wall, tucking your arms into your chest as tightly as possible to make yourself a smaller target, your blaster held between both hands at the ready.

“You said this would be easy!” Din yelled from his mirror position across the hall. Well, almost mirror. He leaned on one shoulder, blaster held up in the opposite hand near his head. His whole body looked just on this side of casual.

“I said no such thing. You did,” you countered, trying to mimic his posture subtly. “And on that note, Cara was the one who said you and I should go in together, so this is all-”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Cara’s voice carried from down the hall, the first word elongated as she slid across the floor on her hip to avoid flying blaster bolts to finally land next to you before popping up. “Don’t you dare drag me into this lovers tiff. Nuh-uh.”

Both you and Din spoke in tandem, “This isn’t-”, “We’re not-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sola said dismissively, jogging up easily behind Din, a singe mark on the shoulder of her poncho.

Din stood up straight in an instant, took her arm in his hold gently to examine it, turning her every which way to get a better look. “What happened?”

“Told the boss I quit.” She grinned proudly before it melted into a grimace. “He didn’t take it so well.”

Blaster bolts zinged down the hall between the four of you, streaking the air in vibrant shades of purple and red, even an errant green here and there.

“If I could just use my saber-” you started, cut off by the unanimous voices of your friends.

“No!”

Letting your head lull back against the wall with a gentle thump, you rolled it in aggravation before facing the others again. “And why not?! I’ve saved your asses so many times!”

“Close quarters!” Cara was gesturing with her hands while she spoke, referencing the hall. “Too many people!” She gestured between the four of you. “Laser sword very bright! Very hot!”

You narrowed your eyes at your friend. “I singed one corner of your tunic. One!”

“And that was one too many,” Din countered, popping around the corner to let off a barrage of shots before coming back for safety.

“This was my favorite,” Cara said forlornly, looking down at the smoldering fabric.

“I’ll buy you another one.”

“No you won’t,” Cara scoffed. “You can’t afford my tastes-”

“Can we please focus on getting out of here!” Sola’s annoyed voice rang out louder than the blaster fire, pulling all three gazes her way.

Din was the first to break, turning back to lay down cover fire once again around the corner. “Kid’s right,” he grunted, before letting off a shot that was accompanied by a pained scream at the end of the hall.

“I thought we were set to stun?” You hissed.

Din looked down at his blaster and shrugged meekly, flipping it back to stun. “Sorry. Old habits….”

“I know I am,” Sola said matter of factly, pulling you back to the topic at hand. “Now what’s the plan?”

Stepping a little closer to the corner you were tucked behind, you holstered your blaster. “The plan is for you all to eat your words tonight.”

“What are you doing?” Cara’s worried tone sounded at your back, Din’s incredulous one to your left. “Mesh’la, come on, don’t do something-”

“To save our skins?” You finished for him, looking up into his visor with a determined glint in your eye. “Watch me.”

After taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and stepped out into the hall where the blaster fire had died down just slightly. The few earrent bolts bounced away from you as if they were hitting a force field. Confused whispers from the enemy preceded a pickup in the rapid fire, bolts flying at a new frenzy, none of which came anywhere close to touching you or your friends.

Lifting your hands in front of you, the bolts began to stop, hovering in mid air inches from your face, your hands, some several feet from you. The room glowed with multi-colored plasma bolts hovering above the floor. As the shots died out, silence filling in the blanks left behind, the corner of your mouth twitched up in an amused smirk.

With a small twitch of your index finger, all their blasters were disabled with a tink.

When you opened your eyes, the blaster bolts that hung suspended all immediately flew the other way, back toward the senders, but in such a way that they wouldn’t hit anybody.

Within an instant the group of thieves at the end of the hall were left cowering, curled away from the stranger approaching them from the opposite end of the hall. Some blinked wide eyes while others scrambled back, all of them surrounded by smoke swirling around from the black scorches left behind from the blaster bolts.

“I think we win,” you said calmly, walking toward them slowly.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” One rogue thief said, jumping to his feet, blaster aimed at you.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you warned, not even looking at him.

When he pulled the trigger and nothing happened, he looked at his blaster in confusion, pulling the trigger a few more times before shaking it incessantly. “Oh, well.” He shrugged. “I have this.” He pulled a spare from the back of his pants.

In two seconds flat Din had stepped forward and shot him with a stun bolt, dropping him to the ground.

“Like I said,” you pulled the active blaster to you with the Force, disengaging the firing mechanism like you had the others before tucking it into the back of your own pants. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t need another one,” Din groaned. “That makes what, seven now?”

You scoffed. “Not nearly.” With a dry chuckle, you shook your head. “Try three.”

“Including the knife?”

“Oh, yeah! The knife. No, that’s four.”

“Guys!” Cara cried, walking up to stand on the other side of you. “Seriously?”

“What?” You looked at her a moment before cutting your eyes toward the thieves still looking on in silence. “I’m just recounting the weapons I’ve won from our various missions! I see something I like, I take it.”

“These guys don’t care.” Cara gestured to them with her blaster.

“No…. But I do.” You turned to look at the punks with a broad grin. “And something tells me they want to keep me really happy. Right?”

They all nodded vigorously. All but one. He got to his feet as he said, “Oh, kark this!” He was no sooner on his feet than Din had hit him with a stun bolt, dropping him into a heap of limbs where he stood.

“At least you remembered to use stun this time,” you threw over your shoulder towards Din, never looking away from the band of thieves still looking on wide eyed at your little party of four.

“Yeah…. But I’ve been known to forget things real fast,” Din mumbled, shifting his weight just slightly to rest easily on one leg. The way he held his blaster would make anyone think he’d gone soft, but you knew if someone made a wrong move, they’d be down in an instant.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” Cara stepped forward, her Marshal voice in full swing. “Sola over here is out. I don’t wanna hear of any of you within spitting distance of her ever again, do you hear me?”

Most of them nodded, wide eyed at the Marshal. All but one. It’s always one, you thought with a smile and gentle shake of your head.

“And what’re you gonna do about it? Marshal?” The way the punk said her name dripped with so much sarcasm and venom, you were surprised Cara was still standing. If looks could kill, she’d be dead right now. “You don’t even live here, so how are you going to enforce anything?”

To his credit, he looked slightly afraid when you and Din took measured steps forward while Cara spoke.

“I have friends all over. I don’t think you want to find out just how far my reach can go…. Young man.”

Cara winced slightly on the last words and it took everything in you not to burst out laughing. The way her eyes darted over to you, however briefly, with a mighty rise and fall of her shoulders told you she knew she’d never hear the end of this.

He scoffed. “Like I’d believe any of that.”

“But you’d believe blaster bolts levitating in space then flying the wrong way?” You challenged, taking another small step forward.

The kid scoffed again.

“You believe this?” Din was striding forward, his vambraces whirring to life as the flame thrower charged up.

Reaching out with the Force, you disengaged his vambrace as the wall of fire just started to lick at the toes of the boots of the insolent kid.

“Not now, Mando. I think he gets it.” Shooting your eyes over to the kid before looking back into his visor, you saw him glance over to find the teen cowering behind the others, mumbling apologies.

Din strode over to you, keeping his body facing the group of adolescents to make them think he was still a threat, which he was, but you knew him well enough to know he was looking at you now and not them, his head turned just slightly.

“Turning off my vambraces now, huh?”

You shrugged. “What can I say? You shouldn’t be frying teenagers, Din. It’s not nice.”

Leaning closer to your ear, his voice hummed through the modulator, something in his tone different this time. “Later,” he promised again.

You grinned, winking at Cara as she rolled her eyes and walked off with an over dramatically gagging Sola. “Can’t wait.”

Xxx

Back at the hangar, the four of you tried to move as quietly as possible, to not wake a sleeping Peli.

“I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know how I could ever repay you-”

Placing your hand on Sola’s shoulder, you smiled down at her when her big eyes looked up your way. So much like the first time you met her all those years ago. “There’s nothing to thank. That’s just what families do.”

“We help each other,” Cara agreed, stepping up behind Sola and putting her arm around her shoulders. Tilting her head to the side in thought, she added with a grin, “And yeah, sometimes we want to murder each other, too, but….” She looked at Din. “It comes and goes.”

“Mostly comes,” the Mandalorian muttered, adjusting his belt before walking off toward the ramp of the Crest. He stopped at the foot of it, withdrawing a vibroblade from his boot before he turned around and walked back. “Hey, kid.” He offered Sola the blade. “Take care of yourself.”

“You bet I will,” she mumbled around a grin, flipping the blade in her palm with expert precision that had your brow arching. Upon closer inspection, she saw a mudhorn upon the hilt. “That’s the same symbol that’s on your armor….” She looked over at your saber. “And your….”

“Like I said,” you pulled her into a hug. “We take care of family.”

“Where’s my mudhorn?” Cara groused.

Din extended a blaster with a freshly etched mudhorn he had tucked into the back of his belt to Sola as he looked at Cara, head tilted just so. “Hidden with your act of valor. Go find it.”

“You’re mean,” Cara shoved his shoulder.

“You’d get tired of us anyway,” you mused in response to Cara, wrapping your arms around Din’s waist in what seemed an innocent manner, then lightly pinching his side in admonishment, smiling at his slight groan in response. Before he could get his own arm around your waist in retaliation, you pinned it to his side with the Force, smiling up at him smugly when he grunted in unamusement.

“I already have,” she agreed, looking down her nose at the two of you.

“No you haven’t,” Din countered tiredly as he turned back toward the ship, heading up the ramp.

“What do you know?” She called after him.

“Everything!” His voice came from inside the ship overlapping your muttered, “Nothing.”

“Not enough,” you amended with a grin, meeting Cara’s eye as she returned your smile. “He doesn’t know nearly enough.”

“It’s a good thing I love teaching, then.” She laughed, offering you a hug before she turned to leave the hangar. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “You coming kid?”

Sola hesitated in her spot in front of you. “But I don’t…. I don’t wear armor.”

“Verd'ika….” You reached out and rested your hand on her shoulder. “Ad’ika. Cyare'se. Daworir’ika. Ka’ra’ika…. Almost all of my nicknames for you had something to do with little.” (“Little soldier. Little one. Loved ones. Little stink. Little star.”)

“Not so little anymore.”

“I can see that,” you smiled softly. “Tal tomad.”

She pulled a face. “Do I even want to know?”

“Blood ally.” You reached out and pinched her scarf between your finger tips. “Verd ori'shya beskar'gam.”

“What…. What does that mean?”

You smiled. “I need to come with a protocol droid….” She laughed. “Warrior greater than armor. It means armor isn’t everything.” Moving your hand from her scarf to rest on her shoulder once again, you felt Din come to stand behind you, his reflection beginning to morph in Sola’s watering eyes. “It’s who wears it.”

Xxx

As you watched Cara and Sola walk out of the hangar, Din pulled you to the side gently.

“Speaking of armor, you don’t have any now, either.”

Looking down at the armor still very much on your frame, you looked up at his visor and blinked at him once. Twice. “Excuse me?”

He shifted his weight, hands resting on his belt in his default I already explained this pose. “I’m about to meet up with Boba in a few minutes. Need the armor so I can give it to him.”

You matched his posture, ignoring his indignant head roll. “Oh right. For this super secret thing for me I can’t know about.”

Din nodded once. “You got it.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you turned and made your way up the ramp of the Crest, not bothering to turn around as you grumbled, “You’re awful.”

“I know.” His tone was nothing short of beaming.

Xxx

The next day, the two of you were up with the suns and beginning work on the Crest with a handful of Peli’s droids.

The woman herself had appeared after a while, but she obviously was not intended for morning hours.

Peli had disappeared into the shaded depths of the hangar, citing paperwork of some sort, but her snores could be heard from the main landing area.

One thing led to another, and the work on the ship was forgotten in favor of brushing up on footwork with two chosen weapons.

The hanger sung with the clashing of beskar on kyber, his spear standing resilient against your purple blade.

The pit droids were hard at work on the Crest to try and cover up the cacophony of battle sounds rising up into the air.

As it hit a new fever pitch, you and Din drawing close together after some particularly fancy footwork, the glow of kyber straining against beskar painting your faces in a soft illuminated glow as you pulled closer still, you smirked.

“I think that means I win, Mandalorian.”

Din scoffed, his modulator popping with the sound. “Nayc. A’nuhunla,” he drawled, his voice low. (“No. But funny.”)

Pulling back from one another, you huffed out a chuckle as you began to circle each other in assessment, waiting for the other to make the next move. “Give it to me in Basic, Mando.” Disengaging your saber, you stopped dead in your tracks, arms dangling limply by your sides. “I’m too tired to fight and translate at the same time.”

“Gar Jetii’kad,” Din pointed to the now bladeless hilt in your hand. “Nau’ur kad.” (“Your lightsaber.”) (“Light up a saber.”)

“Din-”

But he didn’t let you finish, his hands tightening around his spear as his weight lowered, ready to charge. “Kad’au, Jetii.” (“Lightsaber, Jedi.”)

“Ne'johaa,” you mumbled, igniting the blade and lowering yourself into a ready stance to match. (“Shut up.”)

Once you were set, you stood straight up again, smiling softly when Din let his lowered weight relax as well in aggravation, his modulator hissing in annoyance. “This was just supposed to be for fun. Some training, maybe. Not-”

“Kad,” he almost barked, before launching at you. (“Saber.”)

“Mir’sheb,” you hissed through gritted teeth as you blocked an overhead blow from his spear, squinting your eyes as sparks flew from the impact. (“Smartass.”)

He took a minuscule step closer, pressing his weight into you and making you bend back slightly. His voice was low and mocking, but strained to show his struggle against your strength as you continued to push back. “Only for you.”

With a shout, you pushed him off of you with a last reserve of strength.

“That’s it. That’s it. I’m done.” You held your hands up by your head. “No more.” Twirling your saber as you stretched your wrist, you tilted your head from side to side. “You’ve got some unresolved issues with only using the stun back there at the hideout or something,” gesturing to him with a swooping hand gesture, you ignored his snort and slight shift of weight, “but I’m done with all your nonsense.” Turning away you took a deep breath and disengaged your saber, mumbling under your breath, “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.” (“I want a bucket of booze.”)

The next thing you knew you were flat on your back, sand flying out around you as the Mandalorian stood over you, flipping his spear back to its resting position with a flourish. All you could process as you blinked up at the cloudless sky was heat, grit, and what?

“I think that means I win…. Manda Jetii.” (The state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit.)

Eyes flying to his visor, you had to squint at the glare of the suns off the brilliant metal. You could only blink up at him, taking his hand when he offered it and helped you up. After a shared moment of simply staring at one another, he turned to survey the hangar, repeating your words from earlier. “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.”

It was at that point you noticed Peli’s face.

Her very, very, very distraught face.

Following her line of sight, your eyes went wide as you took in the Crest over your shoulder. Sparks flew, singe marks lined the hull. Did I do that?

A poor little astromech Peli had just acquired was trying to tune up something near the ramp of the ship, and Din, once he turned to survey the damage for himself, spying an unfamiliar droid linking into his ship, let his spear loose without a second thought.

If you hadn't had the mind to divert it midair with the Force right before impact, the droid would be a pile of steaming wires right now instead of a trembling pile of bolts.

The screech of terror it let out as the spear made impact right above its head made you want to laugh, but you stifled it into your hand, turning a disapproving glare on Din when he asked why you did that.

“We don’t murder innocent droids.”

“No droid is innocent,” he grumbled, looking over at the scrappy little astro unit.

“They are until proven guilty.”

“I don’t need any proof,” Din mumbled. “Have all the proof I need.”

“You have nothing.”

Before he could say anything else, the angry mech was rolling toward the bounty hunter with an electrified arm ready to zap him, but you held it at bay with the Force. You also held Din back, snorting when he turned a look on you.

“No.”

Peli somehow materialized beside you, everything about her bewildered and distraught. You let the two arguing tin cans go as you turned your attention to your friend, the final zap from the droid to Din’s thigh before it rolled off not going unnoticed.

Pointing every which way with each new statement, Peli began to protest. “I was- They were- You just-” Her hands slapped down to her sides, her face pulled determinedly. “That’s not fair!”

She turned to her pit droid crew. “Why do I get all the defective droids in this town?” They began to prattle but she cut them off. “You guys couldn’t fix the wrong side of a bantha.”

Reaching out with your mind, a twitch of your foot sideways ever so slightly, and one of the compartments at the back of the Crest flew off, the wiring inside plopping out like the ship had drunk too much spotchka the night before and now had something to prove.

“It’s alright, Peli. It wasn’t all you.”

“You bet your beskar it wasn’t!” She turned a look on Din. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that massive spear sticking out of the side of my ship.”

Din had the decency to look sheepish, turning his gaze to stare across the hangar, hands on his hips.

“Now I’ll have to track down the Jawas to find enough ancient parts to fix this hunk of junk.” She smacked the hull closest to her with her palm, her eyes fluttering shut as a panel fell off to her right with a clatter.

Leveling her gaze on you, a shudder ran down your spine as Peli stared at you in silence. Finally she spoke again. “You. You’re going to help.”

“And you,” she pointed at Din. He pointed at himself in question and she nodded, maintaining the accusing jab of her index. “Yes, you. Mandalorian.” Din tilted his head curiously. “You are going to go to the cantina to look for a job to pay for all of…. this!”

Peli gestured wildly to the sparking Crest behind her.

You winced at the singe marks left behind by your saber, beside the puncture mark from the spear as it had let loose from his hands and flown across the hangar. Its beskar body still stood proudly from the hull, glinting in the afternoon sun.

Reaching up high above her head, Peli jerked it from the body of the ship with a grating screech of metal on metal. Green goo began to shoot from the new opening, coating the sand of the hangar around her feet in several inches in a matter of seconds.

She looked down at it before bringing menacing eyes up to glare at Din.

“I’ll be at the cantina,” he mumbled, turning to leave without anymore fuss.

“I’ll…. Be here, I guess,” you mumbled, catching Peli’s death stare out of the corner of your eye. “Pick me up some of those blue cookies on your way back?”

“Really?” Din stopped, cocking his head at you.

“Yeah!” You shot back. “The kid isn’t here, so I don’t have to share them.”

“Who says I don’t want some?”

You scoffed. “Experience.” Crossing your arms, you stared at him. “Besides, who says I’m sharing regardless?”

Din took a step back toward you, his voice lowering playfully. “I could make you….”

“Cantina!” Peli hissed.

You’d never seen Din move so quickly.

Xxx

Peli had dragged you out to the large rolling fortress of the Jawas after she had given her pit droid crew a stern talking to.

You couldn’t make eye contact with them as you stood just behind her and listened to her admonishments. Their judgmental stares from their single ocular lenses could be felt even across the hangar.

Looking over the wares, you were just glad Din wasn’t here. Jawas would be dropping like flies if he were. He really had a problem.

Bringing your scarf up to cover your face, wrapping it around your head to keep it secure and protect you just a layer more from the suns beating down and sand blowing in the rough winds, you squinted at an old astromech tucked away in the back near the ramp.

“What about that one?” You asked, pointing to it.

The little hooded figure helping you turned, exclaiming something when he realized what you were asking about, then began talking a mile a minute and gesturing even faster.

Holding up your hands, you cut in, “Yeah, yeah, hold on little guy,” your new Jawa friend grunted at the name as you turned to call for help. “Peli! Get over here!” Waving your hand to gesture her over, you hoped it’d help her find you a bit faster.

You saw her curls before you saw her, turning your way and quickly weaving through the junk as her grumbling got closer and closer, but the exact words were never quite clear enough to understand. “What?” She finally asked in exasperation when she was about ten feet away, a power coupling in one hand and…. Something else in the other, you didn’t know what it was, but it had a lot of exposed wires and reminded you of an eyeball on a stick.

Pointing to your little robed shadow, you smiled at her. “Translate. Please.”

With a roll of her eyes, she focused on your small companion, nodding as he went along. “He says you want that R2 unit.” She turned her focus back to you, hands on her hips, eye on a stick still tightly grasped in one hand, “Any particular reason? I have plenty of good droids back at the hangar….” R5 started tweeting and blipping in concern, making her roll her whole head over to look at the droid on her left. “Oh, keep your dome on. I didn’t mean you.” She gestured to the droid with the eye-stick lazily before her eyes cut over to you. “Unless….” R5 let out a mighty whoop before rolling away.

Chirping and blooping from the R2 unit pulled your attention back to the matter at hand, watching in amusement as it rocked from side to side quickly on two of its three legs. Its shiny dome twisted back and forth as it let out shrill beeps and whistles, a lone raspberry cutting off the tirade before it focused on a Jawa coming up to stand beside it.

As the tiny cloaked figure reached out to adjust the restraining bolt on its front, one of the droid’s front compartments sprung open in the blink of an eye, a surge of electricity arcing through the air and making the Jawa scream. The little scrapper jumped back, stumbling as its cloak began to smoke, strings of Jawaese getting lost in the wind as the tiny thief marched back over to the droid and swiftly kicked it near its treads.

“Stop!” You ran over, holding up your hands to try and intervene, turning to Peli with a pleading look on your face.

She tossed the junk in her hands onto the ground, doing a double take for the eye on a stick before deciding against it and made her way over to you, thrusting the odd part into your chest as she passed by. With a roll of your eyes, you tucked it into the bag of parts to make its way back to the hangar that was slung across your shoulders.

The bag was over half full, and getting heavier by the minute, but you’d yet to see anything resembling a part you recognized go into the satchel. At this point you think ninety five percent of what she had picked up wasn’t even for the Crest, she was just exacting her revenge on Din. And you had no problem with that.

Peli tilted her head as she listened to the Jawa go on a tirade. Eyes flickering between the tiny robe with eyes and the droid, she finally looked back over her shoulder at you. “He said this droid is just a problem. It’s memory hasn’t been wiped in too long, so it’s developed an…. Ah, well,” she quirked her eyebrows, her hands landing on her hips as she studied the droid. “A strong personality.”

The R2 unit blooped before zapping the Jawa again, a warbling whistle following after in what almost sounded like a taunt for more.

“Stop,” you said again, taking another step toward the feisty astromech. It was very hard to not smile as you studied the round dome, its light blinking red and white at you rapidly as it scanned you up and down, finding something it trusted enough to calm down. It didn’t zap a third time, but it kept the utility equipped, sending a surge down the line when the Jawa got too close again as a warning.

It reminded you of Din. It even kind of looked like him. You had to really try to contain the smile as you thought of his reaction if you said that out loud.

The head tilt.

The finger.

“Later.”

The body was the typical white of most R2 units, though obviously worn and aged, some pockets of rust peeking through here and there along the edge, along with carbon scoring like it’d seen some firefights. With a darker silver dome, close to the color of your vambraces, you could tell it had received repairs along the line, the contrasting metals denoting different eras in its lifetime.

The bands along its body that contained the attachments and along the sides of its legs were a warm coppery color, while the panels along its head were a dark gunmetal gray that reminded you of the Crest.

Altogether it was a patchwork of parts, but it made something beautiful to you. Like when the suns hit the sand just right and caused a reflection in the distance. This droid was a mirage, a shadow.

“What’s wrong with it?” You interrupted the Jawa currently on another tirade that made Peli look like she was struggling to keep up. Getting down on one knee, still a good distance from the droid, you stared into its lense as it studied you once again.

Your friend turned to face you more fully. “What do you mean, they just told you. It hasn’t-”

“No, why hasn’t it moved?”

Peli asked the question, turning to look at the droid as she listened to the answer, its lense now turned on her.

“He said the tread on the right foot is broken. They have it out here because someone is coming to pick it up to wipe the memory. Its-”

“Not anymore,” you said quietly. “It’s coming with me.” Getting to your feet, you began to walk away, stopping when several Jawa voices began to follow after you, each more insistent than the other. You looked at Peli, brow raised in question.

“They say you can’t do that. It’s already a done deal. Now they’re asking if you want any of the other droids, they have an-”

You turned, looking at the gathering of red glowing eyes blinking up at you expectantly. Keeping your voice even, you made eye contact with each pair as you spoke. “You will release the droid into my care.”

A string of Jawaese was mumbled back to you, which you assumed was just them repeating your words, so you went on.

“Remove the restraining bolt, load it in the speeder, and let us go on our way.”

As they mumbled again, they broke off into groups to do what you said.

Tapping the leader on the shoulder, you held firmly when he turned to look at you. “And it won’t cost anything.”

He nodded before going to join the others.

“How did you….” Peli’s voice dripped with amazement. “Can you-”

“No.”

“You didn’t let me-”

“No, Peli.”

“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms and facing the Jawas as they loaded the droid who whistled happily while they worked. “I’m just saying-”

She stopped when you slowly turned to look at her, brow arched.

“Yeah, no, forget about it. Not important.”

Xxx

As you unloaded the droid at the hangar, once it was down on the ground, you knelt down slowly to inspect its injured foot.

“I’m just going to tilt you a little bit to get a better look, okay?”

The pit droids began lowering some type of harness down to help you, but the droid began to rock back and forth, protesting loudly as its dome swung back and forth.

“Okay, okay,” you held up your hands placatingly, gesturing for the other droids to stop. “No lifts. I’ll do it myself, but you’ve got to trust me. It’ll feel a little strange, but you’re completely safe, I promise. Alright?”

The droid bleeped in agreement after a moment of hesitation, and without further hassle, you nudged it slowly onto its side, floating at the proper angle, held just right by an unseen force. As it moved into the proper placement, the R2 unit blooped an amazed sound.

After poking at the tread for a moment, you wrinkled your brows. “This isn’t broken. What did they mea-”

You were cut short when the tread on the other foot whirred to life where it still rested on the ground, spitting sand in your face in a rapid fire. As you drew back quickly, swatting at the sting settling into your eyes, you just caught a glimpse through your squint of the droid falling the rest of the way to the ground with a screech, your concentration broken.

Before you could really react properly, the R2 unit had popped upright, all manner of Binary curses and colorful language beeping and whistling as it whipped out the zapper it had used earlier on the Jawa, sending a warning jolt down the spine while rotating in a circle to keep all the advancing droids and Peli at bay.

Then it started to lift off with some sort of propulsion, a victorious squeal echoing off the hangar walls that was all too soon followed by the sound of sputtering exhaust. Its lense pointed down, watching it all unfold, a quiver of fear warbled out of its voice box. The flames keeping it afloat flickered then died, sending it hurtling to the ground with a scream.

You were just able to stick out a hand, focusing enough to catch it inches from the ground. “I got you!” As you lowered it the last few millimeters back onto the sand, you let out a heavy sigh, relaxing into the warm earth beneath you with a quietly muttered, “I got you.”

“Well, that was a first,” Peli announced loudly, amused, as the R2 unit looked at you, a spurt of oil suddenly spewing onto the ground as it moaned in distress.

“It’s about right on track for me, honestly,” you huffed, laughing as you got back to your feet.

The droid quaked as you got closer, worried coos softly filling the hangar.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” you spoke softly, coming back onto your knees a few feet from the R2 unit. “That was actually kind of impressive.” You smirked, watching as the trembling stopped. The droid was silent and you smiled a bit broader. “I would expect nothing less, honestly. It’s what I would do in your situation. Hell, I have done it a few times….” The droid whistled softly in amusement.

You laughed, feeling victorious when it wheeled a bit closer to you.

“I have, too. I live a very extraordinary life, my friend.”

A questioning bloop.

“Yes, I said ‘friend’. I consider you that, not anything less.”

A series of beeps and whistles, the red light blinking much more slowly now.

“I do speak Binary. Very observant.”

A raspberry.

You laughed, and it was followed by the closest sound a droid can make to the sound, a series of trills.

“Can we start over?”

The droid wheeled closer, bumping its front foot into your knee gently before wheeling back slightly as if to say, ‘go on’.

You introduced yourself, reaching a hand out toward the droid. A panel sprung open on its front, the zapper coming out without a charge, making you arch a brow at the unit as it tittered playfully. The panel closed before another opened, and a small three pronged metal hand extended, closing around two of your fingers and shaking them in jerky movements as it beeped and blooped away.

“R2-B4?” The droid whistled in confirmation, releasing your fingers and closing the panel. “Can I just call you Bee?” A beep that sounded like ‘yes’ and also meant ‘yes’ in Binary chirped happily, filling the hangar. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bee. How about we get you tuned up, into a nice hot oil bath, run a few diagnostics to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be, then starting tomorrow we can-”

Some angry bloops and bleeps filled the air, while she rocked back and forth on her feet.

“No, no, no! No memory wipe! That’s not what I meant! I wouldn’t do that to you.” She stopped rocking, but her lense scanned you up and down rapidly, her light flashing between red and white faster than you had seen yet. “You don’t know me yet, so I don’t blame you. But I’m not going to do that to you. That won’t happen so long as you are here. With me. With us. That makes you you. I don’t want just a droid, I want you, Bee.”

Reaching out your hand, you rested it lightly on her dome and an affectionate beep came out quietly.

“I just meant to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be. You deserve it, friend.”

It was at this point Din came walking back into the hangar. He stopped short when he saw the new astromech snuggled up so closely with you, the disarray of the hangar floor with the spilled oil and obvious scuffle, and Peli with her army of droids behind her and new eyeball on a stick waving around animatedly as she greeted him with a smile.

“Mando! Finally!” She walked toward him. “You will not believe the day we’ve had.”

The look Din leveled on you through his visor was nothing short of stifling. “Try me.”

Xxx

Once Din had calmed down enough to not shoot the new droid on sight, and Bee had calmed down enough to not zap the Mandalorian on sight, you sat down to explain the situation to Din as the astro unit underwent an oil bath.

“I don’t know, Man- Din.” You pulled a face at yourself as he chuckled at the slip up. “It just felt like I was supposed to, and she….” You looked straight into his visor. “The voices stopped when I saw her. Everything did. I don’t know.” Looking down to the table top to your right, you began to fiddle your fingers aimlessly. “I swear you won’t have to-”

“Okay.”

“Now don’t just- what?” You shook your head to dislodge any sand that may be plugging your ears and causing you to mishear because you could have sworn he said…. “Okay? ….Okay? Did you just say okay?”

Din laughed softly. “Yes.” He nodded. “Fine. I trust you.”

Narrowing your eyes, you leaned forward onto your knees, getting closer to him and peering up with scrutiny for an agonizing minute. “What did you do?”

Leaning back in his chair with a sigh, he rested his hand on his thigh. “Got you a present.” His head tilted to the side as you sat up a bit straighter. “Still gonna look at me like that?”

Eyes going wide, you sat back and matched his posture.

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a snort. “I met up with Boba last night, as you know, and after going to the cantina, he caught up to me with the finished product.”

Din reached over and pulled a tarp off a crate to his right, how you’d missed it you had no idea, especially since the item before your eyes still sang with the same signature as his armor had.

A jetpack.

Raw beskar and durasteel glinted under the twin suns, polished to perfection and ready to earn their first scuff marks.

“Din…. No.” You looked at him in disbelief. “You didn’t.”

Reaching for the pack, he groaned slightly with the effort, sighing once it sat in his lap. “I couldn’t look at you in that horribly fitting armor one more time, and it was just taking up space on the ship.” He set the heavy gift in your lap. “Now I don’t have to lug you around anymore.”

Scoffing, you leaned in closer to him, batting your lashes. “Don’t lie, you like lugging me around.”

He tossed his head side to side. “It has its perks, yes, but now….” He gently nudged you back with a finger to your shoulder so you were sitting normally in your seat again. “Lift yourself, mesh’la.”

Sitting up straight as you held the jetpack in your lap, you traced its curves with your hand. “I don’t know whether to be offended or say thank you.”

Meeting the gaze of his visor through your lashes, he simply nodded.

“That’s all I needed to hear. Now, let’s get you fitted and flying - but first, I have to sync them with your vambraces, or else you might-”

“Let me guess,” you sighed, relaxing back into your chair with a thump. “Or else I might blow something up?” Din nodded once in confirmation, and you mirrored him. “Some things never change.”

“And some things change all the time….”

“Well that was cryptic.”

“Fennec found a contact for me that might know where the Armorer is. Where the covert moved to.”

Your eyes went wide and you froze, halfway to attaching the jetpack between your shoulder blades. “Excuse me, what?”

“It’s a job, but I head there in two rotations-”

Your face fell flat, along with your tone. “Excuse me, what?”

“Are you broken?” You arched a brow in question at him. “You haven’t moved since I mentioned the Armorer and you’re repeating yourself.”

With a huff of disbelief, you let the jetpack to the ground beside you with a gentle thud, and faced him once again. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you’re insane?!”

“Excuse me, what?”

“See?” You gestured to him. “A perfectly valid reaction.�� Din huffed, his head tilting to the side in annoyance as you went on. “First off I was excited for you, but then you go and say something crazy like you’re going alone?”

“Well I just assumed….”

“Go on,” you deadpanned, smiling slightly when he trailed off, swallowing roughly.

When he never did, you sighed heavily and forged on for the both of you. “Since I’m your wife,” you began, eyes cast down to the sand, ignoring the way he tossed his head back with a groan, “I think it’s only right I go with you.” You looked up to meet his visor. “Not to mention I continue to save your skin daily.”

“One time. I….” He held up one finger. “That was. I let that slip one time with Peli and it was an accident.” He huffed, staring at you for a long moment. “You're never going to let me forget that are you?”

You grinned. “No.”

Xxx

The two of you landed at the front of Peli’s hangar when you saw an unknown droid approaching in the street from where you were training in the air.

“Oh! Pardon me!” The courier droid raised its hands up in surrender.

Reaching out, you lowered Din’s blaster. “You have a problem,” you mumbled. “You need to ask questions first, shoot later.”

Din grunted. “That’s not how I work.”

“Well, maybe you need to upgrade your circuitry, Tin Can.”

Both Din and the courier looked at you.

“Beg your pardon, miss, but that is a Mandalorian, not a droi-”

You couldn’t help your snort of laughter. “What’s the message?”

“Oh. Yes.” The droid reached into a bag fastened to its hip. “You have a holo from a Greef Karga? It’s marked sensitive/eyes only. I suggest you watch it someplace private.” Leaning around to look behind you into the vacant hangar, the only other soul being R5 rolling past with an offensive blip, the droid then looked back at the two of you. “Or just stay here.”

Taking the device from the droid with a smile, you were surprised when it didn’t just leave.

It reached back into the satchel and procured another device. A puck. And handed it to Din.

“What’s this?” The Mandalorian asked dryly, looking at the small device in the droid's hand as if it were the most confusing puzzle in the galaxy.

“Courtesy of Greef Karga…. once again.” When Din made no effort to move, the droid looked between the two of you. “They go together. I assume they offer some explanation. Otherwise, I have nothing to tell you about them.”

Din sighed, taking the puck and shutting the hangar door before the droid could say another word.

A muffled, “Oh. Well, good day, then!” Came through before the retreat of mechanical footsteps was heard.

“That was rude!” You mumbled, turning to go deeper into the hangar, but freezing when you saw the info spinning above the puck in Din’s hand.

No.

No it couldn’t be.

Quickly activating the comm, you let Karga explain what you already feared.

“If you’re playing this message, you’ve already opened the puck. Yes. I know. I was just as shocked, too.”

There, in letters as big as day was your name.

“It was issued by the head of some small town crime group on Tatooine. Said you decimated their numbers yesterday?”

Din grunted. “Nobody died. What do they mean decimated?”

“I’m not issuing the puck to anyone, but be on the lookout. It could make things…. Difficult.”

The comm went dead, and all you could do was stare at the puck in Din’s hand, the info being presented to you but truly not being absorbed as all you could do was watch and blink.

The puck displayed your picture, slowly spinning with all your details next to it.

Name: Eesra Kesyk

Last known location: Tatooine

Known associates: Din Djarin, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Peli Motto, Sola Kei, Cara Dune, Greef Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan Kryze, Ahsoka Tano, Luke Skywalker

Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan, Luke, Ahsoka? For some small time group on Tatooine, they had really gone out of their way to find info on you….

Your gut sank.

Unless….

You shook your head. There’s no way this went beyond a small town crime lord on a backwater planet. No way.

Focusing back in on the list, you squinted to read the fine print it was in to have everything fit on the little readout.

The rest was just details, date of birth, previous work…. reason for bounty.

“Are they serious?”

Unlawful use of star cruiser in restricted airspace, failure to comply with law enforcement, breaking and entering, damage to public property, battery and assault….

Din thought this was all very funny. He was practically giggling by now, snorts of laughter trickling out of his modulator as he stood to your right.

He’d tried to stop under your glare, he really did, but it just wasn’t possible, little snickers escaping here and there.

“Who knew I married such a horrible person?”

He did this from time to time. Brought up his little misstep with Peli where he’d called you his wife, leaning fully into the absurdity and embracing the silliness you often tried to pelt at him mercilessly by saying it himself first.

Rolling your eyes, but unable to contain the small grin climbing up your face, you looked back at the puck and crossed your arms firmly over your chest. “You knew what you were getting yourself into, Tin Can.” Tilting your head at the readout, you pursed your lips. “And we’re not actually married, no matter what you said to Peli. You’re not ready for all of this.” Making a swooping gesture to yourself, you ignored his mocking snort of amusement.

You stared at the list for another loaded minute of silence before going on. “Besides, half of these aren’t even true!” Gesturing to the list with one hand, you turned to look up at his visor, brows raised. “Unlawful use of starcruiser…. When did we even leave the planet?”

He was still chuckling warmly as he turned to you. “Did I? Know what I was getting into, I mean? I don’t know about that, mesh’la.” His chuckle grew louder as your face fell into unamusement. “And are you sure? Only half?”

Turning to face him fully, you raised one hand to wag a finger in his face teasingly. “Hey, you’re the one that keeps coming back.”

Pulling you into his arms, he hummed contentedly. “And I always will come back to you.”

Copying his hum of satisfaction, you reached up and grabbed his cowl like always, tucking your face into the fabric and taking a deep breath before turning to the side to look at the holo once again with a sigh.

“They got my name wrong, though.”

“Did they?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Tucking your face into the crook of his neck, you smiled. “Eesra Djarin of Clan Mudhorn…. That’s so much better, don’t you think?”

He groaned softly. “I-”

Bleep!

Din grunted in mild annoyance as Bee rolled up the ramp, stopping beside the two of you and trilling animatedly. “Not now, Scrap.”

Bee let out as close to a matching grunt of displeasure a droid could make, flipped out the electrified arm on her front, and waved it at Din in warning.

“See? This is why I don’t like droids,” Din grumbled.

Rolling forward bit by bit, backtracking just slightly in between, she pried her way into the small amount of space between the two of you, making you step back just slightly to make room.

“Well, hello there,” you mused quietly to the metallic dome whose lense was looking up at you, smiling back at the tiny bloop in greeting. “May I help you?”

She babbled away in Binary animatedly, charged hand still extended toward Din in warning as she rolled ever so slightly closer towards you, tilting forward just a bit and causing Din to grunt as the forward motion pushed the bottom of her housing into his shin guards with a ping.

“I’m sure R5 didn’t say all that. What are you getting at?”

More beeps and whistles, this time containing squeals as her lense switched between red and white rapidly, almost faster than her sounds, as she animatedly continued her story.

“Wow,” you finally said when the droid stopped, staring at you expectantly.

“What did she say?” Din tilted his head at you.

“No idea.” You looked up into his visor. “All I caught was something something BD said and then Peli, Jawas….”

Both of you started to chuckle softly, Bee looking between you as she rotated her dome back and forth, a bloop of disappointment before a raspberry of annoyance, and you couldn’t shake the growing grin on your face if you wanted to.

After a moment she reached out just a little further and zapped Din with the electrified arm, tittering a laugh as she rolled away at speed as Din chased after her after crying out in pain. “Ow! Get back here, you rolling scrap heap!”

Crossing your arms, you leaned against the opening of the ramp to the Crest, and watched the scene unfold in Peli’s hangar.

Droids, a mechanic, and a Mandalorian all running in circles after a goal you weren’t quite sure of. All that was clear was Din was losing.

You were home, with the people you loved.

Looking to the side, you saw the bunk of the Crest open, the child’s hammock still strung across the top. The corners of your mouth pulled slightly down.

Well, almost everyone.

You were a clan of three.

No, it was more than that.

You were also a family.

And someday, you’d all be back together again.

Someday soon.

You’d find a way to bring it all back to you.

Adjusting your weight slightly, you bumped something on your vambraces in the process causing the jetpack between your shoulder blades beginning to whir with an increasing hum. Flames began to sputter at its base with a growing roar, sending a wall of heat down the backs of your thighs as it prepared to lift you into the skies once again.

“Din?” You called, quietly at first, staring over your shoulder at the new death trap strapped to your spine, then more urgently, “Din!”

He was already jogging up the ramp toward you, his posture easy and relaxed. “Calm down.”

A quick glance behind him showed an amused Peli and her circus of droids, all of them tittering in amusement. Bee rocked back and forth in glee at the foot of the ramp before rolling back to the others.

“Calm down?” You repeated in bewilderment, watching him disengage the jetpack from your vambrace with a single button push, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Calm down?!” He began to chuckle, his hand skimming up the inside of your forearm to lightly grab your elbow and push you further into the ship as you went on. “I was almost a flying projectile and you-”

You hadn’t noticed the way he’d nudged you backwards completely out of sight of the rest of the hangar until your spine sealed along the bulkhead by the weapons locker, the lights of the cargo hold going to half brightness with a deft swipe of his hand over a control pad to your left.

Half, but still plenty bright to see.

“Din?”

Taking in your new surroundings, you looked back up to see him taking his gloves off and tucking them in his belt. His helmet came next, the quiet hiss of the mechanism causing you to screw your eyes shut. The familiar sound of beskar thunking onto the metal floor of the Crest made them close even tighter.

Din chuckled softly, the unmodulated sound tickling your face with his warm breath. “Open your eyes, mesh’la.”

“Oh, yeah.” Slowly you blinked your eyes open, looking up to see warm brown eyes, and the sweetest smile waiting to meet you. “I still forget.”

Winding your hands up into the curls at the base of his head, you smirked when he let out a contented sigh through his nose.

After a moment of simply holding the other’s gaze, you muttered quietly, “Hello, brown eyes.”

Din was on you in an instant, his groan of annoyance muffled against your lips as you laughed softly into the kiss.

“You always have to ruin it,” he mumbled, crowding you further into the wall, his bare hands coming to cradle your face and making your eyes slip shut at the contact. “Nu-uh. Open your eyes, mesh’la.”

Fluttering them open, you tried very hard to keep them that way. “Sorry. It’s not every day a Mandalorian is half naked in front of me. I’ll try harder.”

“Half naked?” He tilted his head, the tip of his nose bumping against yours, one brow arching up in question.

“For you, a helmet and gloves is the equivalent of a-”

Din was back on you again, this time growling in mock frustration against your lips as you laughed a bit louder. The upturn of his lips gave his amusement away, though.

Pulling apart just enough that only your foreheads rested against one another, the two of you held that moment together for quite a while. Simply breathing the other in, and existing in this quiet moment before the storm.

Before you left to find more Mandalorians.

More Mandalorians.

Now that was going to be interesting.

After a moment, you rolled your head to the side slightly and peeked up through your lashes to find his eyes closed.

You opened your mouth to speak, only for you both to speak in tandem, “Open your eyes.”

“I will if you will,” you were quick to retort.

Warm brown eyes met yours once again as the setting suns’ light poured in through the open ramp somewhere behind him, painting the cargo hold of the Crest in vibrant shades of gold, orange and red.

Din smiled softly, pressing his forehead further into yours, using his hands at your cheeks to maneuver your head back a bit and into a better angle for him to lean his forehead into. “Only for you.” His fingers began to move up and thread into your hair. “Always for you.” It was hard to tell where he stopped and you began. “Gar cuyi ner aliit. Ni kar'tayli darasuum gar. Gar cuyi ner mir'sheb bal gar utreekov kar'tayli darasuum gar, cyar’ika.” He pressed his forehead even further into yours, his lips ghosting over your own with each word. (“You are my family. I love you. You are my smartass, and your idiot loves you, darling.”)

“Gar cuyi ner yaim. Ner yaim'ol. Ner yaim'la.” The light of the day was fading, much the same as the two of you were melding into one another, practically becoming one being, all his hard edges blurring where your soft lines began. The Crest began to fill with long shadows as the lights in Peli’s hangar kicked on, filling the cargo hold with just enough extra light to see. (“You are my home. My homecoming. My comfortable.”)

Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hand, and he melted into it, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your palm, his voice a low rumble. “Ni ratiin yaimpar gar.” (“I always return to you.”)

In the quiet moment, you rubbed your thumb over his cheek bone slowly back and forth before finally whispering with a smile, “Open your eyes.”

Once he was looking at you once again, you pulled your head back just a bit and tilted it to the side. “So, where are we going to find the covert?”

He went stiff. “We?”

You sighed, laying your head on his pauldron. “It’s been how long, and you still haven’t learned that I’m always going to come with you?”

Din looked at you with a matching sigh. He tilted his head at you, his weight shifted to one leg, his hands on your waist moving you along with him. “You sometimes stay here when I go out on a job and help Peli work on the ship. It’s almost done after what Gideon tried to do- er, it was until today.”

“Exactly. So after this last massacre, I don’t think Peli wants to see my face around here anymore,” you laughed, making him shake his head and let out a huff of laughter. “I think Boba would give us a lift to wherever.”

“And then how do we get back?”

You smiled as you closed the small space between you, speaking softer as the situation began to feel more delicate. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Why are your ideas usually half baked or somehow involve fire?”

You closed the distance between you yet again, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly, and pressing your forehead into his. “And yet they always work….”

“You get lucky sometimes,” he groused half heartedly before he returned the gesture, a warm ungloved hand spread across your back, the other moving up to the back of your head to tuck your face securely into the crook of his neck.

You weren’t about to pull away as he held you there gently. Turning your face towards him where it rested on his shoulder, your nose brushed against his neck, and his grip grew tighter. Glancing up towards his face, you thought back to a time in the bar when this all started when all you could see before the helmet obstructed your view was a small sliver of skin that bobbed as he swallowed roughly.

Now you had an unobstructed view….

….Of unruly dark curls long overdue for a trim….

….Golden skin dusted with a light facial hair that had the slightest hint of grays peppered in….

….Kind, warm brown eyes that looked at you with so many promises….

….A nose that had definitely been broken once or twice….

….And a smile that took your breath away.

You turned your head up fully towards his face as you pulled away just enough to look at him straight on, and he turned his gaze down to meet you with a slightly playful tilt of his head like before.

“I’m just that good.” Your hands fell to rest on his chest plate. “Now let’s go find your people.”

“Let’s go find our people,” he corrected.

With a gentle nod, you pulled away slowly after a moment, turning towards the ramp with wide eyes as what just happened sunk in.

Our people.

Din walked past you, looking over his shoulder once he was on the ramp. “Are you coming?”

Our people.

Turning your head slightly to the left, you saw he had stopped, helmet back on, gloves securely fastened, and every bit the Mandalorian you had met all those years ago, only now he stood waiting for you, hand outstretched in invitation.

Mine.

You smiled, walking forward and taking his hand. “Moff Gideon couldn’t keep me away.”

Xxx

Yes, I gave her a name. Eesra Kesyk. (Ee-sruh Keh-sick) Let’s face it, Mesh’la is still what’s going to be used 99.999999% of the time, and “you” the majority of the rest. But we’re going into a part of the story with a whole lot of other new players and I wanted to have something to call the reader besides “you” and nicknames. I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and I’m sorry. But, it’s my story, and that’s what I chose to do. I have a plan, so if you’ll bear with me, thank you, and I hope we can see it through together. ❤️ Plus, Din still just calls her *sigh* or “stop it!” 99% of the time, so…. 🤭

Xxx

Tags to come!

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last-herondale · 2 days

Text

Almost Part 8

Bucky Barnes x Femreader!

Warnings: none

Angst, heartbreak, healing

AN: this story is close to my heart. This whole series. I’ll go into more detail perhaps once it’s done.

Enjoy ❤️

Months had passed. The weather here in the islands was warm and tropical. You had always loved the beach. Watching the waves crash against the sand, feeling the warm beams of sun hit your face as you relaxed in a beach chair. Tony had several island houses, some remote, some really, really remote, and then there was the one you had chosen, which was completely isolated away from the rest of the world.

Tony didn’t ask questions when you came to him that early morning. You only told him that you needed to get away. Somewhere no one could find you. Somewhere you could be alone. He gave you an access card, an address, and sent you on your way in one of his private jets. The vacation house was huge, way too big for one single person, but you were not going to complain.

You spent the first few weeks in bed. Your body and soul felt absolutely exhausted. Guilt riddled your chest. You hated leaving your team like that. No explanation, no word at all. It wasn’t fair to the people who you saw as your family. But there wasn’t time to write every single one of them a note. You just left one for Steve and Nat. You left the note with Tony to give to Nat, but you left the note for Steve on your dresser.

It was short, but it was all you could muster before you chickened out. It hurt too much. Feeling like you used Steve, fighting with Bucky, and lying to yourself and everyone else that you are okay. There seemed to be very limited options as to what you could do about it without messing everything you built up. Without destroying the whole team itself, over something as trivial as your heart.

It felt like you were dying. Physically and spiritually. You took sleeping pills just to shut out everything racking in your brain. You hardly ate, even though Tony made sure to send groceries every week. No one had come to check up on you, so you assumed that Tony had made good on his promise to keep your whereabouts secret. It was strange to feel so conflicted. To want nothing more than to be alone, but also want someone to talk to.

So you opted for writing. Tony had plenty of empty journals in the house, some filled with new suit ideas or other inventions, but you found one that looked like it wouldn’t be missed and began writing. It helped. Writing down anything and everything you had been feeling when you felt it. It took a few weeks, but you finally decided to leave the house. You began taking walks, writing on the beach, reading the various books that Tony had. It was nice. It was starting to feel like a vacation.

You created a routine. You woke up early in the mornings on the weekdays, making sure to go on a long walk around the island before the sun rose. Then whenever you were ready, you went back to the house and made yourself something to eat. Sometimes it was breakfast, most times it was lunch by the time you returned. You spent your afternoons either reading or writing or sleeping. It was a bit boring and mundane, but it felt like it was exactly what you needed.

The only thing that bothered you was the zero contact. You did miss your friends. At the mark of one month of your isolation, you decided to write to Nat. You left a note for Tony, asking that he still not give out your whereabouts, but you trusted him enough to write a few letters with Nat. Nat seemed understanding, if not a bit disappointed you hadn’t gone to her first before leaving. She didn’t say anything about Steve or Bucky, although you were very careful not to ask or even hint that you wanted to know. Even though you did. Desperately.

You started writing to her every week. You thought maybe one day she would get fed up with you avoiding everything, but all Nat ever said at the end of her letters were:

“I love you. Just be careful, okay? I’ll always be here for you if you need me.”

It was everything to have her support, and Tonys. You felt as if you were finally getting better. You were finally taking care of your mental health and your feelings, rather than worry about everyone else. It was strange. It felt selfish. But you realized it was needed.

After two months, you decided you needed somewhere a bit more social to be. Tony was happy to oblige, and he and Pepper came to help you get settled into your new living space in Maui. It was smaller than the first house, much to your appreciation. Pepper and you talked for a bit, and it was nice to open up to her. She often seemed so set apart from the chaos of the tower life, so she offered her unbiased opinion.

Tony’s aim was to help you have fun again. Before he and Pepper left, he showed you his favorite spots, and ensured that the owners would take care of you, if you ever decided to enter their establishment. It was nice to be out and social again. Even just being out to dinner with the two of them livened your spirits up more than you thought it would.

That’s when you decided that it was time. You told Tony before he left, that he could share your whereabouts with the team. He had just given you a look of uncertainty, but then shrugged. You weren’t sure if he would follow through, but then Pepper put her hand on your shoulder and you knew she would take care of it.

The local city in Maui was wonderful. It wasn’t full of tourists, but it was bustling full of the locals. They were kind, and very pleasant to be around. Even if you didn’t talk to them much, it was nice to be back around people. You took up a small job, delivering merchandise for one of Tony’s recommended shops. You knew it was a small task, certainly not up to what you were capable of doing, but it kept you busy.

You still wrote daily, keeping up with your journal that was now full. Tony had gifted you a whole set, for however long you wanted to stay. You considered going home. Several times during your trip. The memories of what you left behind… who you left behind. It caused you too much pain.

The pain was ebbing, ever so slowly. The realignment, the refocusing your attention back to yourself made it easier. You realized that you deserved to put yourself first. That you needed to love yourself before you could love anyone. And so these long months have been your love letter to yourself. You followed your heart. Did what you wanted. You were honest with yourself and your needs. Things were finally becoming okay.

You felt like it was finally okay… it was finally acceptable to just be you.

A few people sent their regards. A few letters came in for you, one from Sam, Wanda, and even Scott. Nat visited you the next week Tony left. It was nice to be with her again and be able to cry and hug her. It was nice to converse and be around the people you loved. People that you had neglected in your mess. It made you feel whole again… well almost.

You missed them. Although it was hard to say their names still, you missed them both. You missed them terribly.

And like always, it seemed that the universe had a great sense of humor when it came to you. You were sorting through the mail, a normal routine you did once a week. The letters were from the usual suspects, but one name made your heart stop.

You knew it would happen. Maybe even hoped it would happen. And now it seemed that the time had finally come.

#fem reader #reader x marvel #marvel fanfic club #marvel #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #fan fic author #healing #angst prompt #angst #alone

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dinogoofymutated · 4 hours

Note

So I'm warming up to the idea of Cable now with this new animation style. And now I can't help but imagine a mutant reader seeing him shirtless for the first time 👉🏽👈🏽. Maybe she's helping him treat a wound he cant reach on his back and he's too worn out to rely on his telekinesis for it. Sure she knows that he has a metal arm. Techno-organic viruses were nasty business. But she never imagined she'd get to see the stark contrast of metal and flesh up close. Just a tender moment where she gets to see him at his most vulnerable. Preferably sfw. Sorry if this is too long winded or specific. Really love your writing and enjoy what you share with us regardless if u choose this one or not 🫶🏽

SFW!Cable/GN!Reader OOOOGHHHH when I tell you I have been thinking about this since you sent me the ask!! I've been dying to write this but forced myself to follow a schedule :( I've never really been a Cable girly but this scenario has been in my head non-stop! I just hope this fic does the same to others!!! Speaking of which, I hope this isn't too OOC for him! This also might get a pt 2 with some smooching 😘 -Ps- Heads up, finals week is coming up for me and I have a lot of essays and work to do. my writing is sadly going to slow down a bit. I don't think I'm going to close requests for now but it's not out of the realm of possibility! TWs: Can't really think of any. Gross depictions of techno-organic shit. As always, Reader written while picturing fem! but no pronouns mentioned. The reader is short in this one, sorry to all my Amazonian friends.

Prime sentinels were like wasps. Squashing one could be relatively easy with the right tools, but it was difficult to handle multiples at once. It had been a rough day, and your ears were still ringing from the sounds of blaster fire when you got to the safe house. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, body exhausted from overusing your mutant powers. Bruises are forming all over you, and despite the pain and soreness, you know you got off easy compared to Cable.

He’s got an arm slung around your shoulder, using you as a crutch as you help him limp over to the table- although you’re sure you’re not a very good one, too short for him to properly lean on. His gun clanks on the floor as he sits, grunting as the movement sends shooting pains through his body. You can tell his left arm is aching, the techno-organic virus fighting to beat the telekinetic powers keeping them still. You weren’t the only one who overdid it today, but you also weren’t the one who had to keep a virus from eating you alive.

Once Cable is settled, the routine starts. You cautiously make a round through the safe house, making sure blinds are drawn and entryways secured. Usually, the task was split between the two of you, being faster and safer than it would be alone- but he would take it over when you were badly hurt. It was only natural that you would do the same. You feel the sting of anxiety and worry in your heart. Cable had saved your ass today. He had done so many times, but normally the fighting wasn’t this extreme. You had been stupid, and he was suffering the consequences.

A series of pained grunts lead you back into the kitchen once you’ve finished, and you can tell Cable is pissed just by the tone of them. You’re facing his back when you walk in, noticing the large red stain that spans across the width of his shoulders. You try to hide the worry on your face as you approach him. He has the medkit sprawled out on the counter, sorting through the various items in it.

“Can’t believe this thing doesn’t have a damn mirror.” He grunts. You hum in response, looking him over before examining the items on the table.

“What do you need a mirror for?” You ask, voice coming out a little hoarse. You clear your throat, must be from the smoke earlier. Cable sends you a look, tossing his head towards his back. You mouth an “oh” before looking at him, unable to hide your worried expression. You’d seen him stitch his wounds up with his telekinesis before, when the fight was all guns and no powers. An action like that was child’s play for someone of his capabilities. For him to actively avoid it, and the way his arm seemed to be bothering him more than normal… It made you worried. It made you feel guilty.

You look down at the suture kit, open on the table from where Cable had unzipped it, and then look back at him, wordlessly asking. He gives you a cautious look for a moment, before it shifts into something much softer. He doesn’t bother nodding, choosing to simply take his shirt off instead.

You blush a little but quickly get to work, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. They’re too big for you, meant to fit Cable’s sturdy hands instead of your own smaller ones. You try not to get distracted by the sight of him shirtless as you pick up what you need and get behind him. The air has shifted between the two of you, forming into something a little more intimate. Something that builds itself on words unspoken, truths that neither of you is quite ready to communicate yet.

His back is broad and beautiful, dotted with scars and bruises. The gash on his shoulders is from a stray blast, starting at the top of his left shoulder and ending at the lower shoulder blade of his right.

You’re not sure if you had been ready to see the cut-off between flesh and metal.

The cords of metal attach to the skin of his shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. They sprout from underneath the skin, winding against each other in a way that makes no clear sense to you. The top layers of skin are rough, keloid scarring having formed at the impasse of skin and metal. It's horrific, the way the virus has both eaten and forced its way under the skin. The top of the gash is somewhat deep, the deep inner cording revealed by the wound cutting through the top of his skin has you unable to look away despite the horror that has taken you.

“I can feel you staring, you know.” Cable’s rumbling voice causes you to snap back to reality.

“Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” You trail off, not fully able to place the words. He sighs, and you mistake it for annoyance. You quickly get back on track and begin to disinfect the wound. Cable hardly flinches as you do so. You’re overly cautious as you stitch him up, focusing on each stitch being perfectly placed. You know they wouldn’t stay for long. Cable had a habit of tearing his stitches. You hope that maybe you’d be able to keep that from happening this time.

You place both hands on his shoulder blades when you are done. The nerves have worn off as the pseudo-doctor in you took over. You’re trying to examine the stitches, but find that your attention keeps being drawn back to that stark contrast of his shoulder. If Cable notices, he doesn’t say anything. You glance at the back of his head, trying to gauge what he’s feeling.

Your left hand drifts a little. Cable shudders as your thumb gently traces that line of scarring, the metal of his arm feeling extra cold compared to the heat of his skin. You’re waiting for him to say something. To tell you to back off. To grumble and shake you off and avoid speaking to you like he used to when you first started to work together- when he was so determined not to get attached.

But he doesn’t say anything. Not at first, anyway. The tenseness of his shoulders slowly gives as the gently touching morphed into more purposeful touches, working the stiff muscles- what was left of the organic ones, anyway.

It’s intimate. It’s quiet. It’s… nice. Part of you wishes it would last a little longer. Part of you wishes he would let you touch him like this more often.

Cable stiffens again as the thought crosses your mind, recoiling away from you. He stands suddenly, turning around to face you. His towering stature used to make you nervous out of fear. Now you’re nervous for a completely different reason. Part of you had forgotten about the glimpses he takes into your mind. A flicker of anxiety ignites when you realize how much he might have seen. The two of you just look at each other for a moment, his brown eyes hard compared to the softness from earlier. You hadn’t meant to think so much. You didn’t think he was horrific. It was the virus. What it was doing to him. The energy and effort it takes out of him. That was what scared you.

Cable was used to the stares. The horror. Most recoiled at the sight of his flesh. It only made sense to him when you did too.

But Nathan… Nathan wasn’t ready for the depth of your thoughts. The care in your eyes. He wasn’t ready for the depth of his own feelings. The ones that cause such a storm within him. The ones that cause him to be stupid. The ones that make him focus more on saving you than the goal of every mission.

“Is this… Are we okay?” You ask. He didn’t need to be a telepath to sense the fear that has swelled within you. Most of your emotions were always written on your face. It made things easier for him when he didn’t have to search for your thoughts. That hardness in his eyes softens yet again, and he glances away for a moment.

“... Yeah.” Is all he says. His heart feels light when you finally smile at him, even though an underlying nervousness still resides behind that smile. You let out a relieved sigh, and he can’t bear to look at you any longer. Instead, he sits back down. He faces away from you, giving you the space to finish taking care of the wound on his back.

You don’t realize how late it is until you’re finished, and the mess on the counter has been cleaned and contained back in the medkit. The two of you sit together as you eat. The food isn’t great- consisting of an MRE that’s not exactly as advanced as the futuristic weapons and technology would lead you to believe. He doesn’t say anything when you lean on his shoulder, or when your breathing evens out, having fallen asleep on his side.

The aches and pains don’t really bother Nathan as he carries you to bed, but the thoughts of you, your feelings, your thoughts… Those keep him awake longer than any wound would.

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #cable headcannons #cable x reader #cable xmen #nathan summers x reader #nathan summers #nathan summers headcannons #Cable imagines

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your-eternal-lies · 13 hours

Text

_ YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter eight)

Main Navigation || Series Masterlist Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

Pairing — Steve Rogers x f!Reader Summary — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

Warnings — None.

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME

CHAPTER EIGHT THE SMALLEST OF GIFTS

Time seems to slow to a crawl in the steel cocoon of the elevator, but Steve finds a sense of tranquility as he keeps vigil over your sleep.

He’d been through wars, seen the best and worst of humanity, yet nothing’s prepared him for the quiet upheaval that came with caring for someone in such a simple and unguarded way.

There’s a promise forming within him, unspoken but resolute, vowing to bridge the gap between your brief encounter here and the uncertain expanse of the real world beyond. Even he, in his infinite attempts at denial, knows he needs to find a way to make this connection endure, to weave the thread of this shared experience into the fabric of your everyday lives.

But life, much like you, has a way of surprising him when he least expected it.

With a soft sigh, you stir in his arms, your body shifting ever so slightly as consciousness begins to seep back into your features. Your eyelids flutter, revealing sleepy eyes that blink up at him, still hazy from dreams.

A smile spreads across Steve’s face, one that reaches deep into his eyes, crinkling their corners with genuine delight.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmurs, the affection in his voice wrapped in a playful tease. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Your eyes go wide with shock, and just as you’re about to leap back in surprise, his arm tightens around you, the motion almost instinctual.

Something shifts inside him then, like the tectonic plates of his very soul rearranging themselves to accommodate the seismic event that is you.

He pictures you waking just like this in a bedroom with linen sheets, the sun streaming in through a nearby window, looking up at him with a sleepy smile.

He imagines introducing you to the Avengers, his friends, all the banter and jokes at his expense, and the looks of surprise when they would see this unassuming woman who’s captured his attention.

It’s not lost on him, the absurdity of contemplating a future with someone he’s only known a few hours, but he can’t seem to shake the feeling that there’s significance in this chance encounter.

Warmth seems to grow with each passing minute with the fantasy, feeding a fire that sparks unexpectedly in his heart.

Suddenly, thoughts of the world outside that demands Captain America disappear, the weight of his shield feels distant, and he begins to truly appreciate a very peculiar kind of magic at play.

“Steve?” You whisper, your breath fanning across his cheek. He only holds you tighter in response, moving achingly slow as he places his chin on top of your head, allowing you to find purchase against his chest.

He closes his eyes, his lungs seem unable to draw in enough breath, no matter how deeply he breathes.

Because, for the first time in years, Steve dreams for something beyond a hero’s call—a shared future, unpredictable and thrilling in moments of vulnerability and laughter.

“Never thought I’d get cozy with Steve Rogers in an elevator,” you mumble, heart in your throat.

You shift, your leg brushing against his as you settle further into his chest. The contact is electric, sparking a connection that surges through your veins, setting every nerve ending on alert.

At any other time, in any other place, you might have straightened up, put distance between you out of respect for personal boundaries. But here, the rules of engagement seem rewritten by an unseen hand.

“Am I heavy?” You ask, though what you really want to ask is whether he can feel the racing of your heart, or if he knows just how much this moment means to you.

“Not even a little,” he assures, his tone light. “Are you comfortable?”

“Never better,” you whisper, watching the fabric of his t-shirt ripple under your breath. “You make a surprisingly good pillow, Rogers.”

“Happy to be of service,” he pulls back just a little, so that you can stare into his handsome face. The close quarters strip away his larger-than-life persona, leaving behind just a man—Steve, who is so much more than just a caricature of red, white, and blue.

It’s a peculiar thing, you muse, how a simple twist of fate can pivot your entire existence. A malfunctioning elevator has become a crucible, forging a bond that feels almost as strong as vibranium, yet as delicate as the silence that envelopes you.

Your heart swells with a mixture of joy and uncertainty in his arms. You wonder if you’re just running on borrowed time, if this newfound intimacy is just a result of adrenaline and forced proximity, that maybe the doors would open eventually and reality would come flooding back in.

But you cling to hope that this is just the beginning. Steve gives you a small smile in the darkness, the weight of his arm around your waist reassuring as you realize you don’t just want more moments like these; you need them.

Taking advantage of your closeness, you carefully study his face: the slope of his nose, the spots of freckles that you hadn’t noticed before, and the curve of his lips, like a cartographer charting out the contours of newly discovered land.

For now, you allow yourself the luxury of believing it’s possible—that someone as magnificent and lovely as Steve Rogers could feel for you even a fraction of what you feel right now.

“Steve?” You say his name again, your voice barely audible, a whisper against the quiet thrumming of the lift.

“Yes?” And when he says yours in return, you fall in love a little with the way it sounds.

“Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“That… we’ll go get your coffee after this,” you lean back against his shoulder, keeping your voice light, but there’s a seriousness in your tone that you can’t hide. “I need to make sure you’re not just a figment of my caffeine-deprived imagination.”

“Cross my heart.”

« Chapter 7 || Chapter 9 »

Taglist — My taglist has been discontinued. Please follow @your-eternal-library and turn on notifications for all my fanfiction updates.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #summer’s fics

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softandwildx · 2 years

Text

So I've been replaying the Bioshock series this week after not playing them for a few years, and I really forgot how much I fucking love these games.

I am so utterly fascinated with Rapture (and Columbia too, but I just started game 2). The idea of an entire city underwater, devoid of natural light, air, rain, animals. When the 1st and 2nd games first released, I was constantly looking at fan art of Rapture and just so freaking obsessed with it all. I still think it's such a cool concept and I really love what they did with the story, but I think it could have gone so so many different ways and it's just all so fascinating to think about.

I've always been a really big cultural history fan, I love learning about the sociology of cultures and how people interact with each other. My favorite thing about video game worlds is often their own lore and finding out more about why and how exactly we got to this point that we're playing and exploring with our characters. It's just super cool that a team of people thought up all of this stuff and made an entire world from the ground up.

And Bioshock is definitely a game that draws a lot of empathy from you if you really take the time to explore and pick up all the diaries and such. I think it's both incredibly unfeasible and completely believable at the same time, and that's why it works and pulls me in so strongly.

Anyways I have no point except I fucking love Bioshock ✌️

#sorry for nerd dumping on your dashes tonight folks #i just love it so much #i had the prequel book at one point too but i lost it and i wanna get it again #this series will always be very close to my heart #and i love getting full on obsessed with a game again after putting it down for so long haha #i truly forgot a lot of the little points in the story and it's been so fun experiencing it again #i wish i could completely forget and experience it all for the very first time but shit memory will just have to do lol #bioshock #gaming

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cherrykamado · 1 year

Text

i love tanjiro.

#u dont know how badly i love him.#a few days ago while rewatching kny my heart literally THROBBED #hes my husband the loml #i just want him to hold me forever and in fact he is holding m e #i adore him sm i will COMBUST #ill explode trulymy heart cant take somuch love istg #literally if i could choose a scene where my heart throbs so much for him is the very early ones in the series #where he is in the search for urokodaki #and how literally he put on his big brother role and went like 'i gotta move on. for nezuko.' made turning her back to human his north and #i just cant express how badly it fucks me up like. swallowing your own pain. the trauma. not mourning.#it really speaks a lot for tanjiro's resilience and how fucking strong his heart is.#yes he might cry a lot and be super sentimental — but also he's so humane.#i can't- i literally can't #i mean yes i go full simp mode but im not like 'aw hes kind hes big bro hes hot'. no. to me its way deeper than that #and that's why he is n he'll always be my number one.#stunned blown away for him.#and he's reading this as we speak and he's hugging me and crying to me.holdin him close forever to my heart.#my tanjiro is everything to me.#signed mrs kamado lol mwah<3 #tanjiro.💚#loml.❣️💍

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urfriendlywriter · 7 months

Text

How to write angst ?

@urfriendlywriter | req by @everynowandthenihaveacrisis @aidyaiden :)

know your character. from their deepest fears to what they cherish the most. know your deepest fear, ask yourself how you will react and feel at that moment. "oh shit, if this happened to me I'll lose my mind" what's that type of scenario for you? write it. :)

decide on the type of angst you are going for!

major, minor, physical, emotional, paranormal, spiritual, verbal, abusive, quarrel, misunderstanding, etc.

and then, decide on--what reaction you can take out of your character by doing what to them.

are they gonna be, held at a gunpoint to give something up? or have their soul wrecked by whom they thought were close to them? or is it going be horror, or etctec, decide on it.

moving on to actually writing it-

Tip 1 - Use sensory details.

her eyes brimmed with tears

his chest heaved

pain clawed at his heart, as his face twisted with hurt

his scream pierced my heart

her lips quivered

she dug her nails into her palms (to distract herself, to stop it from shaking, etc)

show what is happening to ur MC, instead of telling it.

Tip 2 - how to actually write it.

If they're panicking, make them notice too many things at once, show every detail that they're seeing, feeling, from touch, to that burning sensation on their eyes, the blood on the ground, that dryness of their throat, the buzzing in their head and their parted lips unable to trust their own sight, and--and, boom! have them register that they're really really in trouble. and that they've to act fast.

use short, very minimal type of writing for this. make it long, but not long enough that it feels like it's being dragged.

the readers should hold themselves back from skimming the page out of curiousity, they should be in their toes to find out what happens next.

what does your MC do in times of panic? do they chant calm down to themselves, do they get angry, or start crying.. or?? what makes your character genuinely feel an emotion so hard that they'll burst?

there's always something, someone that'll always give them love and easily can be that something or someone to take it away. yk.

Tip 3 - crying.

what is close to your character that u can deprive them of? will it make them cry? beg for it?

what will make ur character cry so hard, that their scream fills everyone's ear, stays in their minds like ghosts and always haunts them?

make a character who never cries, burst out with tears.

while writing crying, focus on the 5 senses, one after the other.

focus it on their breath, make them run out of breath, gasp for air, feel like they're being choked, cry so scrutinizingly. it shud punch the reader's gut.

have them replay what had just happened over and over again in their head

best books and writing styles (for angst) to analyse and learn from (in my opinion);

3rd book in the AGGTM series (yk it hit hard like a truck. it got me depressed in bed the entire time lmao)

Five Survive by Holly Jackson. The moments of red outside of the truck, and moments leading to it.

there's this book called " Warm by @untalentedwriter127 " in wattpad. the author served angst for breakfast, lunch anddd dinner.

and if there's more angsty ones, drop em in the comments! :)

Hope this helps, tag me when yall write a masterpiece! ;)

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incognit0slut · 5 months

Text

All I Need

Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:

Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making

words: 2077

A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲

“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”

SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with—from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.

He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.

"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.

He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.

But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.

Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.

Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.

Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.

You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.

As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.

Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless.

The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me."

Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.

He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."

Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"

The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."

A whine broke out of you.

"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."

You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.

Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.

The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"

You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."

He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."

When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.

They were so full of love.

And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.

You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.

"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.

You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.

"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."

His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.

There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.

"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.

He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"

Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.

"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."

You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"

Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.

Marry me.

You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?

And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.

You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.

You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.

"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."

He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."

His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.

"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."

A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.

You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.

He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion.

And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.

Oneshot taglist: @simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @natarataca @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no @donttrustlove @tylevx @kailey-rae @sailorholly @ducksong @infinitegalaxiesworld @dreamsarebig @brilliantreid @boimlers-gonna-boim

PLEASE READ: The crossed out ones are blogs I can’t tag. And if any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

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alpaca-clouds · 6 months

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Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

#baldurs gate 3 #oppenheimer #barbie #barbie movie #hollywood #game industry #media #indie media #media criticism #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism

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scuderiahoney · 4 months

Text

Always Walk Me Home

Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Pt I

Strawberry Wine Series

Masterlist

Summary: You and Max are keeping things casual. Sooo casual. You can be casual. Right?

Word Count: 4.3k

a/n: Heeeeere we go, his number is in my bio for a reason, it’s my other favorite boy! This one is heavily inspired by some of the prompts on this list. anyways enjoy!

Warnings: alcohol/mild intoxication, mild sexual references, google translated Dutch

Things with Max are… brand new. Everything is still fresh. Everything he does gives you butterflies, makes your heart skip a beat. It’s the honeymoon phase, as everyone calls it.

It’s so brand new that nobody knows. Nothing is… official, yet. You’ve just been on a few dates, had a few movie nights. You’ve stayed at his place a couple times, waking up with his arm around your waist and Jimmy and Sassy curled up next to you. It’s casual. You’re keeping things casual. Max seems content to feel things out, to keep seeing you without labeling it. You’re trying so hard to be casual about it that it’s almost embarrassing.

You feel like everyone sees straight through you. On top of spending time alone together, you and Max are friends, so you see each other at group outings and clubs and dinners with your other friends. Max acts the same there as he always has- kind, courteous, and friendly. You won’t lie, sometimes you wish he’d hold your hand or pull your chair out for you or something, anything to show you that you’re not the only one feeling less than casual. But you’re scared of scaring him away, so you keep your mouth shut.

…..

You’re out to dinner with friends, somehow ending up sitting next to him. It’s nice, really nice. You can smell his cologne, can feel the warmth radiating off of him at the packed table. You have to fight the urge to nudge his foot with yours, to press your knee against his. That wouldn’t be very casual of you. You can do this, you can be normal.

He’s saying something to the person next to him, laughing and leaning towards them. You want to be the reason he’s laughing, want to be in on the jokes. You keep your mouth shut and look at the menu instead.

“What are you going to get?” Max asks.

He’s suddenly in your space. He’s leaning close, his shoulder brushing against yours. Be normal. You shrug, sliding your finger down the menu.

“Probably the shrimp scampi,” you say, pointing at the item.

Max nods. “You love seafood.”

You blink, breath caught in your chest. He’s right, but you didn’t know he knew that. Let alone for him to say it as fact. It’s not like he’s whispering either- someone else could hear. It’s silly, because it’s such a small thing, but you’re overanalyzing everything about it.

“I do,” you agree, turning and smiling at him.

“I remember things,” he says, a soft smile on his face, and now your face is growing hot.

Someone draws his attention away, and you look back to the menu. You nearly yelp in shock when something brushes your knee, but- it’s Max, you realize with a start, his hand searching for something. You hold your breath. His fingers find yours, and he interlaces your hands, palm to palm. He keeps them resting on your leg.

You try to take even breaths. He’s holding your hand in public, with your friends right next to you. Sure, it’s under the table, but this is the most you’ve gotten from him in a setting like this. He’s held your hand on dates, done much more in the privacy of his home, but here it feels overwhelming. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, and you resist the urge to hold on so tightly to him that he can’t let go.

Eventually the food comes, and you both let go so you can eat. But it was nice while it lasted.

…..

Max’s apartment is spacious and cozy, despite the fact that he’s gone from it so often. There’s a warmth here, an aura that just screams Max. His cats roam freely, though while you’re there they have a tendency to follow you around.

“They are traitors,” Max accuses as Jimmy and Sassy weave around your ankles in the kitchen.

“Maybe I’m just better than you,” you say.

“Oh, you are,” he says, sending up a swirl of butterflies in your stomach. “But I feed them. So they are traitors.”

You laugh, leaning down to pet the cats. They nudge their heads against your hands and legs, paw at your socks, and when you walk into the living room, they follow after. Max just watches with disappointment.

By the time he joins you in the living room, drinks in hand, both of them are curled up in your lap. He lets out a huff and sets the drinks on the table. Then he’s nudging at the cats, and you cry out when he pushes them both off your lap.

“Max!” You say, appalled.

He laughs, lays down on the couch, and promptly placed his head exactly where the two cats had been. He stares up at you with a wide grin, eyes squeezed nearly shut.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you answer.

He reaches for one of your hands. He squeezes your fingers softly before bringing your hand up to his hair. You laugh and take the hint, start running your fingers through the blonde strands. He lets his eyes fall shut. Then you watch as he brings his hand up, purses his lips, and points at them.

You take that hint too, lean over and plant a kiss on his lips. When you try to pull away, he wraps a hand around the back of your neck and keeps you there. He deepens the kiss, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of your neck to hold you there. It’s not the best angle, but it’s nice, always nice to kiss him.

He finally lets you go and collapses back into your lap, a satisfied smile on his reddened lips.

…..

“I can’t open it!” You squeak. “What the fuck, how do they make it look so easy?”

You’re holding a bottle of champagne in your friend’s apartment, trying to get the cork out. It doesn’t help that you’re scared- one too many horror stories about someone getting a cork to the eye, or breaking a window. You huff and try again, gently. No use.

“Lando slams it on the ground,” your friend suggests, her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, and he also shattered one of Max’s trophies,” you say. “So maybe not the best example.”

You hear familiar laughter, then, and you drop one hand to your side, still holding the bottle in front of you with the other. Max makes his way through the kitchen, a smile on his lips that paints his whole face. You hold it out to him, pouting.

“No, no,” he says. “I’ll show you.”

He wraps his hand around yours, around the bottle. You can’t lie, your mind goes somewhere else for a second, but you tamp those thoughts down and try to focus.

“See, you put this hand on the cork,” he instructs, “and this hand on the bottom.”

His hands are warm over yours. Your face feels hot. Does he feel the sparks when his skin touches yours, too? Or is this normal for him? Is it just a friend helping another friend? You wish you knew, wish he’d say something to quell your worries and calm your racing heart.

“-and then you twist, like this,” he demonstrates.

The bottle hisses, and you jump, but there’s no dramatic pop, no shooting of the cork. You just pull it out, and you stare at the bottle with wide eyes. Oh. That was-

“Easy, right?” He says. “You are already a pro.”

You laugh, shake your head, and hold out the bottle to your friends, standing there with their empty glasses. You want to study their faces, ask them if they noticed anything. You want to ask if they saw the sparks, too. Someone takes the bottle, and your hands fall to your side, the cork still between your fingers.

Your knuckles brush against something- when you look, it’s Max’s hand. He’s still standing there, watching as everyone passes the bottle around. You swallow tightly, bump your hand into his. Deliberately. You want to look up at his face, want to gauge his reaction, but you resist the urge.

Max reaches his pinky out and hooks it with yours. For just a moment, standing in the kitchen, surrounded by your friends, you’re linked. The sparks run from his finger, up your wrist and arm and straight to your heart. Your chest fizzes like the champagne, bubbly and overflowing.

…..

You weren’t even planning on seeing Max tonight. It’s a girls night, one that’s been suggested over and over, each of you being too busy to make it happen until tonight. You’re at your favorite bar, bass thudding in your chest, your friends all around you.

And then, there’s a tingling feeling in your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Someone is watching you. You turn over your shoulder and lock eyes with Max.

He’s leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. He has a black t-shirt on that’s always been one of your favorites- it hugs his upper arms and his chest so perfectly. He’s watching you, a soft smirk on his lips, a drink in his hand. Everyone is moving around you, but you’re stuck on him.

You smile, wave, and force yourself to turn back to your friends. You like him, you want to spend time with him, but you’ve been neglecting your friendships because of it. Your friends have been teasing you all night about how you’ve been too busy, how you keep checking your phone, how there must be a guy. You’ve denied it at every turn. You can’t leave them now. Ditching your friends for the guy who isn’t even your boyfriend would be the opposite of casual. You force yourself not to look at him, but you swear you can still feel him staring.

Ten minutes later, a bartender appears with a tray of shots and lime wedges. “For you,” she says, pointing at you, and your friends squeal in excitement. She points behind you, then. “From him.”

You turn over your shoulder again. Max is watching, and waving this time. You laugh and wave back, and your friends all do the same. He’s far away, too far to make it in time as you each grab a shot and throw them back in unison. You put the lime between your lips and turn to look at him again, raising your brows. He laughs, eyes lit up so bright you can see the blue even across the room, you swear. Then he juts his chin in the direction of the hallway when nobody else is looking. A message just for you.

You find him out there ten minutes later, trying not to make it obvious and taking the time to come up with an excuse- you fake a phone call. The hall is empty when you walk out, and you wonder if he’s given up on you- you know you saw him walk out. Then he pops his head out from around a corner and waves you over frantically.

He’s leaning against the wall, the same way he was in the club. You stand against the wall on the other side of the hallway and stare at him.

“I’m not leaving right now,” you say. “I promised I’d stay out late.”

“I know,” he says. “Just wanted to see you.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah? Seeing me across the bar wasn’t enough?”

The tequila running in your veins has you feeling braver than usual. It doesn’t seem to scare Max. He just grins wider, brow quirked.

“No, it wasn’t,” he says. “You’re pretty from far away, but even prettier up close.”

Your face feels hot. He pushes off from the wall, leans towards you. He could box you in if he wanted, could pin you right there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes your hand in his and pulls you away from the wall, too. The kiss he sweeps you into is sweet. He wraps his arm around you, and you sling yours around the back of his neck. One of his hands cradles the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. Out of all of it, you’re much more focused on the feeling of his thumb on your cheek than the feeling of his lips on yours. It’s strangely intimate, strangely soft, the way he holds you as he kisses you in the hallway of a bar. The way his nose nudges against your cheek, the way he pulls you closer and closer like he can’t get enough.

He pulls away, leaves you gasping for air.

“You taste like lime,” he says.

You nod, dumbfounded.

“You should go back to your friends,” he suggests, kissing your temple. “If I keep kissing you I won’t want to let you go.”

You breathe out a laugh and slap his shoulder. “If you keep staring at me in the club I won’t be able to focus on anything else.”

He laughs. “I know,” he says. “That’s what makes it fun. Besides, you’re fun to watch.”

…..

Three days later, Max is holding your purse. He’d taken it from you when you were all standing in the lobby of the restaurant and your friend dragged you into the bathroom. He’d promised to keep it safe. Now you’re back, your friends are gathering their things and saying goodbyes, getting ready to go home. You’re watching him.

The little black bag looks even smaller in his hands. His fingers are wrapped around the clutch, thumb rubbing back and forth across one of the stitches the same way it had on your skin the night before. He’s talking to someone else, but when there’s a break in the conversation, you nudge him.

“I can take that back,” you say, holding your hand out.

He tilts his head, blinks softly. “That’s okay. I’ll carry it.”

You’re sure you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. “Okay, but I’m leaving, so I need my purse.”

He nods. “I thought maybe I could walk you home. If you wanted.”

You nod in response, feeling a bit dumbfounded. The two of you exit the restaurant, waving goodbye to your friends. He takes your hand the second you’re outside, your purse still in his other one. Your fingers knit together like second nature, now. You could predict the pattern of the brush of his thumb against your skin like clockwork.

Your apartment isn’t far, but you find yourself walking slow on purpose, prolonging the moment. You pass people on the street and you know that to them, the two of you look like a real, actual couple. It’s nice to pretend. You lean into his shoulder, and he stumbles and laughs and keeps both of you upright. The two of you talk the whole way there, about everything and nothing and all the stuff in between.

When you reach the apartment building, he finally holds your purse out to you. You open the clutch, digging through it to find your keys and the front door access card. He watches in amusement as your fingers fumble through the bag.

“D’you wanna come up?” You ask. “I have some of that wine you like.”

You pull the card triumphantly from your bag. You look up at him, and he’s smiling softly, something sparkling in his eyes that makes your breath hitch. Makes the champagne bubble in your chest all over again.

“That’s okay,” he says, softly. “I’ve got to get back to the cats. But can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You blink, card still pinched between your fingers. “Yeah, sure.”

He tilts his head at you. “Maybe brunch. You are going to need sleep. How about you text me when you wake up and we’ll go from there?”

You nod. He nods back. Then he reaches up, cups the side of your face in his hand. He’s so gentle about it, more so than he normally is. When he presses his lips to yours, he tastes like gin and he kisses like… like he cares for you. Like this isn’t leading somewhere else, like he’s not going to pull you into his lap and start trailing kisses down your neck. He kisses you just to kiss you, just to say goodnight.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says when he pulls away. “Goodnight, liefje.”

You smile up at him. “Goodnight, Max.”

He smiles back. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to your forehead softly. You swear you’re melting into the sidewalk. You must be a puddle under his feet. You want to press yourself into his chest, tell him to wrap his arms around you, ask him to never let you go.

But you’re trying so hard to be so good at being casual, so you kiss his cheek, turn around, and walk inside. You take the elevator up, leaning against the wall and covering your giddy smile with your hand. When you get into your apartment, kick off your heels, and drop your bag on the counter, your phone buzzes. It’s a call. You look at the screen and see Max’s face.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Did you get in alright?” He asks.

Your heart squeezes fiercely in your chest. He sounds so soft, asking it. You walk over to the window, peel back the curtains, hoping you’re right about what you think you’ll see. There he is, still standing in front of the entrance, phone to his ear. He’s staring up at your window. When he sees you, he waves.

“Yeah,” you say. “You didn’t have to wait, you know.”

But I’m so glad you did.

“Yes I did,” he says, voice soft and scratchy from the night out. “Had to make sure you were safe.”

“Okay,” you breathe. “Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“I will,” he says. You watch as he waves again, smiling up at you. “Goodnight.”

…..

He picks you up for brunch the next day. By the time you’re in his car, it’s nearly 10:30. He drives with his hand on your knee, like always, fingers dancing across your exposed skin below the hem of your sundress. You like watching him drive, like being here with him. He pulls up to the restaurant and runs around to open your door for you, leaving you laughing. He hands the keys to the valet. Then he slips his arm around your waist and leads you inside.

You’ve been on dates with him, but none this fancy, none where you feel a little out of your element. Max seems comfortable, though- it’s moments like these where you’re reminded he’s not just your-friend-Max. He’s F1-world-champion-Max-Verstappen. Of course he can get a reservation here with such short notice. They’re honored to have him here.

A waiter leads you to a booth in the back. The restaurant is bright and airy, fresh flowers on every table. Max asks for a pitcher of water and orange juice before the waiter leaves. He pulls your chair out for you, pushes it in when you sit down. Your palms are sweating, heart beating rapidly. It’s just- this is the closest you’ve come to feeling like you’re actually dating him. Suddenly, it’s terrifying.

You ask him what’s good on the menu. He points out his favorites- the French toast, the eggs Benedict, the omelettes. He tells you he’s going to order a fruit sampler for the two of you to share, and you smile softly.

“They always have the best strawberries,” he tells you, eyes lit up. “You love strawberries.”

“I do,” you tell him, warmth filling your cheeks. “You do too.”

You’d bonded over that, when you first became friends. A strawberry wine that nobody else wanted to drink. Too sweet. You’d split the bottle with Max and went to bed with a sugar rush, your lips still tasting like strawberry. Ever since, for every special occasion, the two of you have gifted each other that same strawberry wine. It’s a running joke, among your friends- you’ll open the bottle, ask if anyone wants a glass. They’ll ignore you, but Max will come running.

He opens his mouth to say something, but over his shoulder, you spot something that makes your blood run cold.

“Shit,” you mutter.

He looks at you in concern. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just-“ you sigh. “Your coworker is here.”

Charles Leclerc has just walked in the door, a girl on his arm. The waiter is pointing in your general direction, towards an open table a little ways away. There goes your whole morning. He’s going to want to leave now.

Max turns to look, brows raised. “Oh. At least it’s one I like.”

You can’t help the laugh. “Should we go?”

Max turns back to you, perplexed. “What, get up to say hi? I don’t like him that much. He’ll come over here when he sees us.”

Us. You wish he meant it how you want him to.

“No, like-“ you sigh, gaze flickering down to the table. “You don’t want people to know, so-“

“What?” He asks, wide eyed. “What do you mean, I don’t want-“

“You didn’t want to tell anyone,” you say, quietly. You can’t look at him. “We haven’t even really talked about this, and… I figured you…”

You trail off, because you can feel him staring at you. He reaches over and tucks his finger under your chin. He tilts your face upwards towards his. His gaze is soft, a small smile on his face.

“Schatje, you have to be joking,” he says, and you stare back at him. “Of course I want to tell people. I have wanted to tell the whole world since I kissed you the first time.”

You blink. “But you- you didn’t want to put a label on it. You never…”

“We never talked about it,” he says. “I was giving you time. I’m a lot. Dating me is a lot. You are… I was following your lead.”

“Oh my god,” you blurt out, a giddy feeling in your chest. “Oh my god, I’m so dumb.”

The two of you just stare at each other for a moment. His eyes are bright and sparkling, his smile spreading across his whole face. You’re so done being casual.

Charles appears at the end of your table seconds later, smiling at the two of you. “Max, hi, good to see you. And I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” he adds, turning to you.

“Charles, this is my girlfriend,” Max says, reaching across the table to take your hand.

When you greet Charles, you can’t wipe the giddy grin from your face. It stays there the whole rest of the day- through breakfast, through a walk through a park, through a late lunch at Max’s with the cats winding around your ankles. Every time it starts to fade you think of Max, bright blue eyes, his finger under your chin. You fall asleep still smiling. You’re pretty sure it’ll be there when you wake up.

…..

The next time you go out with your friends, Max carries your bag the whole night. He also keeps his hand on the small of your back nearly constantly. He orders and pays for all of your drinks, includes you in all the conversations, and brushes his lips against your temple every time there’s a lull in the talking.

Nobody questions it. None of your friends even bat an eye. You find out why when you end up in the bathroom with the girls, a tradition as old as time itself.

It turns out they all already knew.

“Max told us all the day after he kissed you the first time,” someone tells you. “And then he told us we all had to act like nothing was different, because he didn’t want to scare you off.”

You collapse into a fit of laughter, bracing yourself against the sink. All this time, you were worried about it, and he’d told everyone right away. You’d thought you were the one struggling to be casual. God, you’d have saved yourself so much trouble if you’d only asked. If you’d only told him straightforward what you wanted. If you’d only been up front.

You’re giddy with it, then. You can feel it coursing through your veins and buzzing in your fingertips. You won’t call it love yet, at least not out loud. It’s too soon, right? It can’t be love. But it’s something, and now you want him next to you. You want his lips on yours again. You’re missing him even though he’s just through the door, waiting for you, your bag in his hand.

When you return to his side, you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. You watch his smile grow and his cheeks turn red. You place your hand on his shoulder and put your lips against his ear.

“You should take me home,” you tell him.

His cheeks get even redder, and he turns to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “You’ll walk me home, right?”

“Always,” he agrees.

He takes your hand, squeezes lightly. You feel like you’re glowing brighter than the neon lights above your head.

…..

You slip up over your morning cup of coffee three days later. The cats are in your lap. There’s the perfect amount of cream and sugar in the mug, he’s made it exactly right. The sun is shining through the windows, bouncing off his hair and painting his skin in golden light. You weren’t going to say it out loud, you really weren’t, but it slips past your lips anyways.

“I love you,” you say.

Max laughs, takes the mug from your hands, and kisses you.

Then he says it right back.

read the prequel/ sequel, Someone Sane

okay, now I’ve got my three favorite boys in the masterlist! thanks for reading! come say hi, or check out more of my writing here. drop an ask or a dm to be added to the tag list!

taglist: @4-mula1

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #formula one fic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #max Verstappen #fanfic #max verstappen fluff #fluff #honeywrites #mv1 #strawberry wine verse

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moonchild1 · 5 months

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min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)

she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

stalemate by @shina913 f s a

↬"The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."

oh, my darling by @yoongiofmine f s a

↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk

↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it?

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk

↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

after hours by @archivedkookie f s a

↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a

↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a

↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a

↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.

collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj

↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.

grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs

↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”

isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a

↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.

Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk

↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)

mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s

↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.

pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a

↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity

naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj

↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.

babydoll by @jungcock s a

↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.

eleven months by @bratkook f s a

↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

darksided by @eoieopda f s a

↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.

three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs

↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too.

one-shot

bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s

↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?

breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s

↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”

Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a

↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj

↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.

under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a

↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj

↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a

↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

angel by @sailoryooons f s

↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences

a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f

↬ for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

last nite by @tayegi s a

↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan

zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a

↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie?

heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a

↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

heavy sugar by @kinktae s

↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.

all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s

↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

calling the shots by @chans-room f

↬ College basketball captain Yoongi

until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a

↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan. When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.

whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a

↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.

shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s

↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.

you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a

↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞

spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a

↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.

all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a

↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.

now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a

↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

stay by sugarwithtea f s a

↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.

when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f

↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...

egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj

↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.

on the court by @centerhaechan f

↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.

sugar by @zehakoo f s

↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.

from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a

↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.

the dark by @/bratkook s

↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs

↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.

fermata by @jeongi f s

↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.

private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s

↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…

first love by @geniuslab f s a

↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

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imaginaryf1shots · 29 days

Text

Forced | Charles Leclerc ver.

WC: 16.2K (It started as a 5K word and then I said okay 10K and things went from there)

Charles x reader

Summery: Being threatened and forced into a marriage wasn’t on your mind when you got invited to dinner by your parents.

Warnings: Cursing, forced marriage, bad parents, alcoholic parent, bad childhood, brief suicidal thoughts, half edited. tell me if I missed anything.

A.N: If you’ve read this before, no you haven’t I tried to save it to my drafts while I was at my part time job, and it showed network familiar fast-forward 2 hours and I don’t find it in my drafts, but I see it posted, It wasn’t all uploaded yet.

A/N2: If there has been a one shot I was nervous about positing, it’s this one. So many ups and downs, at one moment I thought about scrapping it but this idea has been in my mind for so long. I feel like I could’ve added so much and I have to remind myself this is a one shot and not a multiple parts series. CARLOS ver. IS COMING, not this week but I’ll start it once I have an outline.(send me ideas if you have any)

Masterlist

In the heart of Monaco, where all the rich, glitz and glamorous people live, the sun dips below the horizon casting a golden hue over the famous skyline of Monaco. The city is intertwined with the rich sport of Formula One. Many of the world's richest people live there, and so does your family. The famous Italian Morelli family, the rich of the rich. Generational wealth, very old money.

The family has been close with the Ferrari family for decades, and so Morelli has invested in the company very early on and has been receiving the benefits for years now. All of the children of the Morelli are born loving everything about cars and racing cars. However the new generation, not so much, they're straying from the driving and going into different ventures, trying different things. Yourself included, maybe when you were young but as you got older you never found yourself interested in cars or any of Ferraris teams in any motorsport, the last time you were at a race was when you were 10 and your parents had to force you to go, after that your older brothers stopped going so you said why can't I stay like them and that was that.

You defied your parents when you went to your choice of university, if it wasn't for you grandfather they would've cut you off, and so you went to art school and graduated with honours, but your parents still weren't there. Your grandfather passed away a few months later making your dad the head of the family.

Since then you've stayed in Italy after going and finishing university there, just the thought about going back to Monaco was out of the question, you have only stayed there during breaks from boarding school in Switzerland, both never feeling like home to you.

However here you are on a plane to Monaco for a mandatory family gathering, apparently something big is happening. the Youngest daughter to the family, the polite and elegant girl of the family, the least disappointment to your parents.

Your father had a driver waiting for you at the airport, not bothering to come himself even though it's been a couple of years since you saw him. Nothing has changed.

Getting ‘home’ yet again no one greeted you at the door but the maid who took your bag to your bedroom, you sighed and walked into the house looking for any sign of your family. You didn’t have to look for long, you found your mother on the balcony nursing a glass of some alcoholic drink, it was just a little after noon, a sight that you’re used to since you were young, your mum always being borderline alcoholic. Your guess is that she turned to the drinks to cope with living with your father, whom she chose to stay with for the glitz and the glamour of being a Morelli.

”Mother.” You greeted her, her head snapped to look at you, some of the liquid spilling as she placed her drink down and stood up, coming up to you with very wide arms pulling you in for a hug, your arms lay limp by your side for a moment before you returned the hug with one arm.

”Oh my baby, I didn’t know when you’d be in.” She said and pulled back to look at you.

”I sent you the details.” You mutter and she waves her hand waving you off.

”Come, come sit down, want a drink?” she asked, walking over to the drinks set on the side, you grimace and shake your head.

”No thanks, it’s a bit early for me.” You sit down across from her and look at the view, the view from the penthouse overlooking the pier, as much as you don't like Monaco the views there are breathtaking. “Where’s father?”

”He’s in a meeting.” She mutters and sips from her drink.

”It’s the weekend.” You reply but she just shrugs, unless he changed, your father never had work on the weekends, he hated them, he hated working anyways so for him to do so is something out of character.

”Your brothers just went out, sadly they didn’t come with any of their children.” Your mum pouted and you rolled your eyes, your mum is so out of touch with everything regarding her family, or anything in general, she acts so oblivious to the dynamic of the family, how all of her children live in other countries have their businesses and don’t want to be associated with the family name, the name she fought so hard to have.

”Okay, well, I’m going to my room to change.” You say and walk off leaving your mum on the balcony, texting your brothers in the group chat that you arrived, you laid down on your bed and scrolled through social media to pass time, you didn’t want to be here at all.

Once your brothers came, they made it to your room, the eldest taking the spot beside you on the bed and the second taking the sofa. It’s been a couple months since you saw them, but they’ve been texting you every now and then. The eldest, Matteo, is 8 years older than you, the second, Marco, is 6 years older, and you’re all at the age now where this difference isn’t that big.

You’ve all lounged around, your laughter ringing in the otherwise silent house. When the sun sat down you were called by the maids for the anticipated dinner. Hopefully everything will go smoothly and you'll be out of Monaco by tomorrow night. When you got to the dining room your father still wasn’t present, but you each took your place at the dinner table, with your mum at the head of the table across from your father’s empty seat and your brother’s each taking a side to your father and you between the oldest and your mum. It didn’t take long before your father arrived, he didn’t bother with pleasantries or hellos, he just took his place at the head of the table and food was served. You all ate in silence only the sound of the silverware hitting the plates is heard, something your mum tried not to grimace at each time.

“So… why are we here?” Matteo asked when the silence stretched for a bit too long for his liking, and he as did everyone minus your father wanted to escape this dinner.

”I have something that I wanted to talk to y/n about and I thought it’s best if you’re all present, as it’ll affect everyone.” Your father said, placing his knife and fork down, he took a sip from his wine glass and ran his eyes over the three of you like a predator, no ounce of love in him, you held your breath in curiosity and dread as the air hummed with anticipation, whatever is about to come can't be good. “As you know, our family has ties with the world of cars and motorsports, and Formula 1 has been a cornerstone of our family’s legacy for decades.”

”Not this again.” Marco mutters and your father gives him a warning look that has Marco clenching his jaw but saying nothing.

”In recent years, and since you three refused to have any hand in the family business or racing of any kind, our influence has waned, our presence diminished.” Your father continued, his voice carrying over the silence with determination, he speaks like you're in mediaeval times Matteo rolls his eyes. Dread fell onto you, you had no idea where this is going since it has to do with you. “I believe it’s time for us to take action.” His gaze sweeping across the room. “To reclaim our rightful place among the elite of Formula 1.” His eyes fall onto you and you forget to breathe, Matteo looking from you to your father. “I just came from a meeting with a Ferrari representative and we’ve come to a conclusion, y/n, we’ve arranged for you to marry Charles Leclerc.” Your fork clatters ringing in the air, your siblings and you are in shock. “This union will restore our family’s honour and secure our place at the top of motorsports history once more.”

As the implication of the head of the Morelli family proposal, no not proposal, fact, words, order, yes his order sank in, a palpable tension hung in the air, uncertainty and apprehension heavy.

And then your brothers were shouting, waving their hands, rage filled them. As for you? You felt betrayal, this is a death sentence to all your aspirations and dreams. Your eyes filled with tears, your throat closing in on you, your eyes fell to your plate and hadn’t moved. You have no idea who Charles even is, you have no idea who any of the Formula 1 drivers are at the moment, you haven't been in that sphere in so long.

”Come one, y/n, we’re leaving.” Matteo says and pulls you up, you stand up emotionlessly, your father still silent as he watched, you followed Matteo when your father spoke just as you were about to leave the room.

”If you don’t agree, then you can all kiss your futures goodbye.” Your father said and he dapped at his mouth with the napkin before he placed it on the table, that stopped you in your tracks along with Matteo and Marco stopped his shouting. closing your eyes, you let go of Matteo’s hand, of course it wouldn’t be that easy, your father wouldn’t just tell you and let you refuse, he had another thing up his sleeve.

”What are you talking about?” Marco asked his glare speaking for itself.

”I mean that, if your sister refuses or if any of you say anything or try to stop this marriage, you Marco will find that your company is suddenly without business and thus you’ll go bankrupt and you have two girls at home and a wife to take care of, and you Matteo, your stocks will plummet and you won’t be able to find a job as long as I live, all your inheritance gone and no trust fund to rely on anymore.” Cruel, he’s so cruel, how can he be your flesh and blood, how can you be related to this man? He’d basically kick you all to the street and his grandchildren as well, he has no heart that’s for certain.

”You can’t do that.” Matteo said but his voice was weaker, he knows his father is capable of doing this and much worse.

”Oh but I can.” Your father said with a smirk, his eyes settling on you once again. “So what will you do, y/n, would you let your brothers go bankrupt leaving them and their families with no money or future? Could you have this on your conscience?”

”This wouldn’t be on hers, it’s you, you’re doing this, don’t act like an innocent by standard when you orchestrated this, this scheme.”

”You know what? go at it, do the best you can, we’re not letting y/n marry someone she doesn’t even know, who the heck is Charles Leclerc anyways, I swear to god father if you make her do this I’ll-“

”I’ll do it.” You said and all eyes snapped to you, a tear left your eye before you whipped it away not letting another one leave your eyes.

”Wh-what?” Marco asked confused by your words.

”I’ll do it, but you have to write everything down, make a contract, that if I go through with it, you’ll leave them alone, the inheritance, the trust fund, everything.”

“No, no, y/n, what are you doing?” Matteo asked shaking his head, he doesn’t like this, he doesn’t want you to do this, his baby sister.

”I’m doing the only thing I can to keep you and your family safe.” You say to his, your eyes leaving your father’s to look at him. ”You just had a baby girl, and Marco, you’re about to have a boy, I can’t let this affect you.” You say to your brothers, Marco falls in his chair in disbelief. “Do we have a deal?”

”We sure do.” Your father says with a wicked grin on his face.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Earlier that day in Monaco, Charles was on his way to what he assumed was a friendly meeting with some of Ferrari’s officials. His mind was somewhere else, he was thinking about the upcoming race, race strategies, how to secure a spot on the podium, he’s reached a point where he just wants to stand on the podium not win, just be in the top 3. He’s been struggling with the team the whole season and his personal life took a turn since the middle of the last season, it seemed to him that everything is taking a horrible turn. Little did Charles know that what’s about to come is so much worse.

As Charles enters the office, he’s met with a Ferrari executive whose name eluded him at the moment and a man he never met before, but a sense of unease crept over the monegasque man as he took in the seriousness of the situation.

”Charles,” Greeted, the man he didn't know, Charles shook his hand ever the polite man. “I’m Antonio Morelli.”

Charles recognized the name instantly, he knew the history of Ferrari and their ties with the establishment of Ferrari. “Mr. Morelli, it’s lovely to meet you.”

After they finished the introduction and sat down, Antonio sitting across from Charles started speaking. “Charles, this meeting has been set up because we need to talk.”

Confusion flickered across Charles’s features, his brow furrowing in apprehension, he had no idea what Antonio Morelli could ever want with him.

“Of course, about what?”

”It’s about your future and the future of Ferrari.” His heart sank at Antonio's words, this conversation is about to change the trajectory of his life. “As you’re well aware, your recent… actions shall we say, have caused considerable damage to your reputation and more importantly the reputation of Ferrari and the team’s standing in Formula 1.” A wave of irritation surged through Charles at the implication of Antonio’s words, but he had to bite back his tongue and stop the retort that threatened to spill from his lips. He knows this is not the time to argue, and it would only serve to worsen the situation further. “In light of these circumstances, and to save your reputation and your career.” Antonio held eye contact with the driver, his tone cold and unwavering. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to present you with an ultimatum, and you can choose whichever you like, it’s up to you.” Charles’s heart skipped a beat as he braced himself for the oncoming crash, he knew that whatever was in store for him wasn’t good. “You’ll marry y/n Morelli.” He stated as if he wasn’t just offering his daughter up to a man he didn’t know, yes he knows who he is but this is his first time meeting Charles. “Or you will find yourself without a seat in Ferrari and with no future in Formula 1.”

Silence filled the room as it seemed to spin for Charles, his mind is struggling to grasp what was just told to him, it felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him leaving him without air and leaving him reeling with disbelief.

”I uh- but I…” Charles stammered struggling to come up with something to say as his voice is barely a whisper.

”There are no buts, Charles.” Antonio heard him loud and clear, his voice cutting through the turmoil going through Charles and reaching him. “This is your only option to keep your seat, your only chance to salvage and save your seat and career in Formula 1.”

Charles thought about all he went through to reach where he is now, racing in Formula 1 was his lifelong dream and he achieved it, but he hasn’t won a championship yet, he still has so much to achieve, so much to do.

“This isn't just about you Charles, this is about Ferrari as well, its about the fans and how they view you as il predestinato.” The executive said and Charles felt a surge of resentment rise within him, his fists clenching at his sides. How dare they blame him for all their problems? How dare they use him as a scapegoat for their own failings? He knows it's not just about him, it's to distract the fans from the failed car, the tractor he and Carlos are made to drive every week.

But as he met the unwavering gaze of Antonio and the executive, Charles realised that there was no escaping the reality of this ‘predicament’. He was trapped, caught in a web of deceit and manipulation and it looked like there was no escape for him.

With a heavy sigh and his head bowed, and broken spirit he nods his head in acceptance, knowing that he had no choice but to accept. No matter how much it went against everything he believed in, he had to agree, his sense of pride taking a hit. And as he left the room, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his newfound burden, Charles could only wonder what awaited him on the other side of the impossible choice that lay before him.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Matteo and Marco both took your bag and booked you a hotel room. You had set your mind to the marriage and weren't backing down as long as your father was threatening your brothers, the only family, you count, that you have left.

It took a lot for you to make them stay back when your father called you to tell you to come home to sign the contract and to tell you what the next steps will be like. You get there and the maid greets you as usual, taking your coat, before you make your way to the office. There's a meeting table with 6 chairs placed to the side in the office, used when your father has business meetings at home, so not so often.

You place your bag on the table and sit down, your father soon walks in with a man following him. It turns out to be the lawyer, they sit across from you.

“As we've talked there's two contracts, one for the marriage, you'll share with Charles and the other for your conditions. You can start with that one.” The lawyer stated and you start reading, it takes a while as you focus on every word not wanting to miss a thing. You do find yourself getting emotional as you read, this is all becoming so real, it's actually happening. It takes a lot for you not to show the tornado of emotions swirling inside of you.

“Where do I sign?” You ask meekly and the lawyer points you to where you have to. You sign all the lines and hand him the contract.

“Okay the next one.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You mutter and stand up.

“Let's take a break.” Your father excuses you and you head out to the bathroom furthest from the office to hide in there as you're trying to fight the tears. You're literally signing your life away, tying yourself to a man you've never met before. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you splash some cold water onto your face to calm your racing heart. But seeing how weak you look, makes you want to cry more. A few tears manage to slip down your cheeks but you pat them away, trying not to ruin your makeup. Don’t let him see how much this is affecting you, you can’t.

Charles makes it to the address sent to him, he's led to a penthouse so big and fancy it surprised him even though he's been in many expensive houses. You can tell this is owned by a billionaire, everything is a step above all the other places he's been in, yet it looked cold, unloved and un-lived in. Charles couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, he had greed to this, this arranged marriage out of desperation to keep his career, to keep his name out of the public’s mouths, however the idea of entering a marriage with a complete stranger left him feeling uneasy. When he makes it to the office, he sees Antonio and the lawyer sitting down, the chairs across from them empty, but there’s a purse on the table. Antonio and the lawyer greet him and point him to the seat across from the lawyer, and just as he sits down, the door he closed behind him is opened, and his future wife walks in. Charles looked up the Morelli family but there weren't pictures of the adult children anywhere, when they were young there’s plenty, some at F1 races even, but after a certain point, he found absolutely nothing. What he found is the parents of the family pictured at parties and lavish ad luxuries events and trips.

Charles looked starstruck when he saw you walk in, he doesn’t know what he expected but you look absolutely nothing like your father, you look elegant, soft and so innocent. He reminds himself that you’ve also agreed to this, that you’re the daughter of the man that’s forcing him, how different can you be from your parents?

You saw him in pictures, you’ve read about him, everything you could get under your hand you’ve read. From his beginning in karting to F1, to the scandals he’s been getting into for the last year or so, how much it had affected him and his sponsors. On track he’s still doing good, the best he can in the car he’s given at least, but off track he’s living the life of a fuckboy, all that after he came out of a long time relationship. To you however he’s just the man that agreed to this marriage, to further his career to get to your family’s money, be connected to Formula 1 forever even, you don’t know but you don’t like him and dread the thought of being tied to him just like your mum is to your dad.

With heavy steps you make your way to your seat next to Charles and sit down, you refuse to look at Charles, but he kept glancing at you taking you in, your father had a smirk on his face that just irritated you to no end.

”Okay, let’s go over the key points in the contract together before you both can take it and sign.” The lawyer said. “Charles and y/n, you are both not to be seen in any romantic or intimate position with anyone but each other.” This was mainly for Charles. “The public needs to think that you’re both single for now.” Easy enough you think to yourself. “In a month's time, you’ll start being spotted with each other, but confirm nothing after about 2 months, y/n you’ll be seen at a race.” You already hated this so much. “From there you have to sell that you’re actually in love, we’ll then release a statement saying that you’re in a relationship and things look to be going good. Now, in 9 months you have to get married.”

”That’s not going to be believable, getting married in under a year of knowing each other.” Charles stated wanting to scoff at the stupid plan they had set up, you take the contract and flip through it reading all the conditions the things you have to do.

”And that’s why you’ll say that you’ve known each other for a long time, and you’ve just started dating recently.” Antonio said and gave a challenging look, that shut him up straight away.

“Why do I have to move back to Monaco?” You ask frowning, you hate this country, it may be small but you hate it, you’ve just gotten out of it permanently not even five years ago.

”Because this is where Charles lives-“ You cut your dad off.

”But he can move to Italy, it’s not that far.” Your dad wasn’t happy about you cutting him off but you didn't care, your life is in Italy not in Monaco. “And he races most of the year so he’s not in Monaco most of the time.”

”y/n, Monaco is the home of Formula 1, it wouldn’t make sense to move to Italy, keep your house there if you want and go there from time to time, but you will live in Monaco.” You huff but say nothing else, wanting this hell to end already. You’re both given pens to sign the contracts and before the ink even has time to dry you leave the room, leaving the three men watching after you.

Charles asks himself what he had gotten himself into, to him you sounded like a brat throwing a tantrum, because she couldn’t get the smallest thing she wanted, and now he’s stuck with you. Now your fates are sealed, intertwined. And you’re both losing hope.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

In the next month you don’t see Charles, he was off racing, and you were back in Italy, you’ll postpone your move as much as you can, your life is all in Italy, it’s where you’re living, working, that’s where your friends are.

Both you and Charles were sent booklets with all the information that you may be asked about for the other and you had to memorise it. You took the booklet and never bothered to open it, you weren’t about to make this easy, just because you signed doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing from here. Charles however read everything, he wanted to know who you are, he hadn’t gotten the luxury of finding a wiki page or an article about you.

The media and everyone around Charles notice a difference in him, he doesn't go out or sleep around anymore, but he’s also quieter and more reserved than before. Whenever he was asked about his mode or why he’s changed, he’d just deflect the question, change the subject or simply just shrug. Charles did find himself thinking about his future all the time, regret and second thoughts clouded his mind, but it was all too late now.

It was between races when you flew back to Monaco to meet Charles for your first ‘date’. In your time in Monaco you’ve booked a hotel room to stay in, not wanting to see your parents if not needed. You met Charles at the location sent to you by your father, you still don’t have Charles’ number.

It was a small and cosy cafe, where you’re both to sit and eat for an hour or so, there will be a paid photographer (paparazzi) waiting to snap pictures of you both. You arrived first and took a table near the window, but had your back to it, not wanting your face out there straight away. You tapped your fingers on the table as you waited for the Formula 1 driver to arrive. This ‘date’ to many would be a dream, but to you it had kept you up at night, dark circles under your eyes were covered by layers of concealer.

”Uh, hi.” Charles says and takes the seat in front of you, you give him a small fake smile in return.

”Hi.” You greet him back, and then there’s a long stretch of silence, that is so awkward you wanted to kill yourself, what do you say to your future husband that you’re forced to marry on your first ‘date’? Thankfully a waitress comes by and places two menus in front of you, and so you take your time flipping through, Charles has been here many times before, he knows what he’ll order so he takes the time to shamelessly look at you. He does admit that if it weren’t for the whole marriage thing, if he saw you somewhere he’d ask you out, too bad you’re a Morelli that he’s forced to marry. “Do you know what you’ll order?”

”Yeah, do you?”

”Yes.” You both order what you want before falling into silence. Charles clears his throat, searching for something, anything to break the awkward silence.

”So… how was your day?” He asked eventually, cringing slightly at his own words, you blink at him not expecting him to talk to you at all, you hesitate for a moment before you find your voice to respond.

”Fine, thank you.” Your tone is a little guarded, on edge, not trusting Charles, but you decide to play along and return the question. “How was your day?”

”It’s way okay.” And that was the end of it before your food arrived, you eat in silence both glancing at the other from time to time. This is suffocating, it just dawned on you that this will be your life from now on.

”This is awkward, maybe we can, I don't know, try to talk maybe?” You were uncertain and admittedly very awkward, but you have to get over the silence, you hate silence like this, you’re very talkative by nature, the only time you’re silent is when you’re uncomfortable.

”Okay, we have to act like we like each other anyways.” Charles muttered and took a sip from his water. “Did you come from Italy?”

”Yeah, early this morning, you were in Spain right?” You think you’ve seen that they were racing in Spain somewhere online.

”Yes, a couple days ago.” You nod to his words and fall silent again. “Nice weather today.”

You couldn’t help yourself but laugh, nothing is truly funny, but look at you talking about the weather and nonsense, trivial things, the irony of the situation is so funny. Charles smiles as he sees you laughing, he didn’t expect it but it’s his first time seeing you do more than a fake smile, you’re usually stoic, no emotions at all.

“I’m so sorry, it’s just this whole thing is just so…”

”Weird.”

”Yes.”

”Believe me I know.”

This breaks the ice a little, you still talk about trivial things, nothing personal at all, you talk about Italy he tells you about Spain, what countries you both think is better than the other, trivial, not important talk. But talk you did. As an hour came to close, you both paid for your part of the late lunch, Charles didn’t put up a fight when you said you’ll pay half of the food, he felt like you’re not at the point where he can offer to pay.

Walking outside you look up at him and give him one of those small smiles, that to him looked practiced and not genuine.

“I guess, I’ll see you at our next scheduled, uh ‘date’.” You say doing air quotes at the date part.

“Yeah, sure.” You turn to leave before Charles stops you. “Wait, let me get your number, so we don’t have to go through people to schedule something.”

“Great idea.” You mutter and take out your phone and you both exchange numbers. “Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

With that you both went on your own ways, you went to walk around and get to your hotel, the weather is nice after all, and Charles went with him in his car.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

You and Charles went on a few more ‘dates’ each one with more pictures online, no one has figured out who you were yet, something you were forever thankful for.

F1Gossip

Liked by username5, username320, and 302,582

hear me out! I think charles is over his hoe era, in the last month he’s been seen with the same girl in Monaco, Austria and Hungary. I repeat it’s the same girl.

No one knows who she is but or what she does but could this be Charles new girlfriend?

More comments

username234 honestly good for him

username20 FINALLY!! I was over him with a different girl each week 💃

username083 I wonder who she is

username72 not good enough for charles that’s for sure 🤢

username294 i bet it’s just another girl who he flies around w/ him so he wouldnt have to go out and look for one

username498 come one guys we don’t even know who she is

username903 it’s giving me gold digger vibes

username465 Charles be careful

username983 seriously these comments are not it 🙄

username438 shut up no one asked you

username983 and I don’t remember charles asking for your opinion

username438 stop asking like you know him when you dont

username983 says yyou

username474 I don’t like this 😒

username832 me neither

username094 this is whey drivers dont post their relationships because you people dont even know who the poor girl is and you’re already attacking her

username873 Olivia was better

username384 girl they ended over a year ago get over it

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You’ve seen the photos and you’re impressed with how much you and Charles managed to sell it, one thing you didn't like is the comments, you’re dreading the moment they find out who you were. You and Charles would usually meet up somewhere for half an hour, once you got the okay that the pictures were good you’d both go your separate ways. Now he has his summer break which he’s spending in Monaco, so once more you fly to Monaco to start the next part of the ‘plan’. The soft launch.

Your socials are all private, but soon you’ll have to make them public, another thing you have to change. You made it to Charles yacht in Monaco, he was already there waiting for you.

”Hi.” You greet the Monegasque, with a wave of your hand and a small smile, Charles returns your greeting and helps you get on the yacht. You settle down as Charles gets the yacht out in the water for a good spot. You brought your sketchbook with you, you’ve had a few ideas about some paintings for a gallery you wanted to be part of and inspiration just hit you that morning, so as Charles sailed for a bit you sat at the table and brought up your supplies. You’re the kind of artist that likes to sketch things out before putting them to the canvas.

”What are you drawing?” Charles asks you when he comes in.

”Just a sketch for a painting I want to do.” You say and look up at him to see him handing you a drink. “Thank you.”

”I never saw any of your work before.” Charles stated and you smile taking out your phone, you always love showing off your work. Not many people in your life were interested in art besides those you met in uni so when you find someone you just want to show them.

”I’ll show you.” Charles sits next to you and looks at the phone, and suddenly he’s seeing a side to you that he’s never seen before, your face is bright and the smile on your face is true, this is your passion. you’re explaining to him what each piece is about and what they mean, the colours, the composition, what inspired it. In the next 30 minutes he’s heard more from you than he’s heard in the last month. Charles is smiling at you when you realise you’ve been ranting for a while. “What?”

”I just never seen this side of you before.” He shrugs and you sigh leaning back in your seat, angled slightly to his side.

”We don’t know each other, I only know what I’ve seen online.” You tell him, your smile is long gone, and you find yourself needing to talk to him about the arrangement, you both have never talked about it before.

”You haven’t read the booklet?” He asked confused, he’s read his over and over again.

”Just the first page, it’s all stuff you can find online anyways, besides I bet you mine is just filled with things my parents think they know about me, but aren’t true.” Charles is confused by your words, he’s been under the impression that you wanted this marriage to happen, that this was a part of your plan. It seems to him now that your relationship with your parents is a bit rocky.

“I feel like there's a lot of things we should talk about.” Charles said as he got the feeling that maybe you aren't as welling as he originally thought.

“True, I actually hoped to talk to you.” You said and were Facing Charles fully, he also turned to face you, your knees touching lightly. “Look, I know you that we don't know each other, and that there's things that we both want to do that this marriage wouldn't allow us to do, so I have a proposal.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“I wouldn't mind you being with other girls, we'll be married in a few months and i know I'm not your type, so do whatever you want just keep to discreet.” Charles was dumbfounded by your words, he cant believe that this is what you think of him. He's also a bit irritated. But what can he say, his attractivities haven't been the most private as of late. “But, I'm Keeping my house in Italy and I'll go Monaco if I have to and nothing else.”

“Sounds fair.” Charles said and you put out your hand for a handshake, which he returned. “There's no reason for us not to be friends.”

“True, I mean we're stuck together for life now.” You say and shrug. “We should take some pictures for Instagram.”

You both go out and begin the small photoshoot you had to do. Posing and taking pictures to choose one for Charles to post on his stories.

By the time the Yacht docked the sun was nearly down, Charles got off first and helped get off.

“When are you leaving?” Charles asked as you both walked to the parking lot, you rented a car this time around.

“As soon as I find a plane, I usually don't book my return flight until I'm sure we have everything we need.” You explain and he nods. “Why?”

“Well, you see…” Charles rubbed the back of his head nervously, he didn't want to bring it up but he's been putting it off for so long. “My mum wants to meet you.”

“What? Why?” you're confused why his mum would want to meet you, unless. “She thinks this is real?”

“I couldn't tell her, it would break her heart, she would feel guilty and upset and I can't do that to her believe me I tried but everytime I couldn't.” Charles went on a mini rant, now this a side to him you never saw. You can tell how much he cares and lives his mum, you couldn't say you understand his feeling but just from hearing him you can sort of empathise with him.

“Okay, I'll do it.” You say and he stops from talking and looks at you, with wide eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it means alot to you, I’ll play my part.” You shrug, not thinking much about your choice. “Practice anyway, we haven’t acted as a couple in front of anyone really.”

“Thank you.”

”No worries.”

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

The next day, you got dressed and headed to Charles’s house where his family was gathering for an early dinner and a night together, enjoying the time where the three Leclerc boys had nothing to do. When you arrived, you could hear the laughter from inside, making you pause as the nerves came at full force, your hands started to shake and you had to pause before ringing the bell a few times. Taking a deep breath you pressed the bell, and waited. The door opened and you saw Charles, he must’ve been laughing before he opened the door because he had a big smile on that showed his dimples, and they didn’t dim when he saw you. You gave him a nervous smile.

”Hey, come in.” He greeted you and walked in seeing some of his family, this must be the reason behind the smile and the friendliness. Yes Charles has never been rude to you but you wouldn't call him friendly or loving or caring. Neither have you to be honest, so you wouldn’t blame him. You give Charles a quick hug and press your cheek to his in greeting. You put on your diplomatic smile that you had perfected when you were in boarding school, and look at the Leclercs, thankfully it wasn’t the whole family, just the boys and their mother. “Maman, this is y/n, the one I told you about.”

”Ah, y/n it's lovely to meet you.” Pascal comes up and pulls up in for a hug, that you clearly weren’t expecting, your eyes went wide for a bit before you returned the hug. Her smile and hug came in as a relief amidst the lies and the unknown tension between her and Charles.

”It’s lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Leclerc.” You say in perfect french, and pull back to see her grinning face, all your words and smiles felt hollow, meaningless , you know the truth behind all this and it isn’t easy to lie to someone who’s so affected by it.

”Oh please call me Pascal, Charles didn’t tell me you speak French.” Pascal says and pulls you behind her to the living room where the other other Leclerc boys are.(after this point everything is French between the French speakers)

”Must’ve wanted to surprise you.” You say smoothly and smile as you shake hands with Arthur before you do the same to Lorenzo, who seemed reluctant, but you think nothing of it. His brother did sleep around with lots of women recently, and you’re the first one they’ve met in a while as well.

”I wonder what else he didn’t tell me.” Pascal gives Charles a look and he shrugs with a smile, he didn’t know you could speak French, it wasn’t in the booklet, it said you speak Italian, English and German.

“Maman, I just wanted you to find out from her.” Charles says and sits down next to you on the sofa.

”y/n, you’ve come at a good time, I was finishing the food.” Pascal said and went to go to the kitchen before you stopped her.

”Do you need help?” You ask standing to follow her but she refuses your help and tells Arthur to come help her instead. With a groan the youngest follows his mother to the kitchen and you’re left with the oldest two.

”So what exactly do you do, y/n?” Enzo asks, the way he said your name left a bad feeling in you, you looked at Charles and he gave you a nod in reassurance, but it did nothing to ease you at all. You’re in the lion’s den right now.

”I’m an artist.” You say with a polite smile.

”So you don’t work.” He said simply and your smile falls.

”Enzo.”

”What? I’m just getting to know your wife.” Enzo said and you freeze. His tone is sarcastic, your heart sank and your facade dropping. “Oops not yet I guess.”

“Come on, let’s eat.” You’ve only just met Arthur but you've never been grateful for anyone in your life. Enzo leaves the room first and you turn to look at Charles with fire in your eyes.

”You told him.” You hiss glaring at the Ferrari driver.

”Yes, I had to tell someone, and he won’t tell anyone.” Charles defends himself and you roll your eyes. “Your whole family knows.”

”Yes, but you know that, why didn't you tell me?” You huff, not liking how he didn't tell you.

”I just didn’t have the chance.”

”How convenient.” You walk away from Charles and to the dining room, where they were all sitting down, the polite fake smile was back on your face. You sat down in a chair and Charles sat next to you. You were back to playing boyfriend and girlfriend, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of Enzo’s eyes on you. Another thing you’ve noticed is how loving the family is, even Enzo’s anger is justified and comes out from a place of love. Your brothers love you but you weren't raised with love around you and it shows in how people act and interact with each other. You did get to know the family a lot that day, with good food, good wine, and amazing company. But at the end of the night when Pascal made Charles drive you home/hotel since he didn’t drink and you did, you sat in silence as the guilt ate at you slowly, you were looking out the window from Charles’s Ferrari watching the scenery lost in thought.

”I didn’t know you spoke French.” Charles said breaking the silence and bringing you out of your thoughts, you turn to look at him.

”Yeah, I’ve been speaking it since I was young.”

”It’s not in the booklet.” You laugh at his words and little pout he had on his face, looks like someone took reading the booklet to heart.

”Told you it’s not all true, I refused to speak French to my parents after the age of 9.” You told him and he gave you a questioning look filled with curiously, your family dynamic alway puzzling him and leaving him utterly confused. “They always wanted me to do this or that, and at home we always spoke Italian and then suddenly they wanted us to speak French, I learnt it but never spoke it in front of them, I speak six languages fluently, and know the basics of a few more.”

”SIX!” Charles is impressed, he speaks three and that was hard for him, imagine six.

”Yeah.” You chuckle at his surprise and bring out your hands to count them down. “Italian, because I’m Italian, French because Monaco, duh, German because of my school in Switzerland, English is a language everyone just learns, Spanish because I went to a trip to Spain in 8th grade and loved the language and then Dutch cause why not, and it has some similarities to German when it comes to vocabulary.”

“Wow, I’m impressed, and surprised more impressed though.” Charles says and you smile a genuine smile.

”I’m glad to impress, and if you ever need a translator you know who to find.”

Charles came to a stop in front of the hotel, he never asked why you never stay with your family when you’re here but he could only guess. “You know, you don't have to stay at a hotel, every time you're here.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” You say unbuckling your seatbelt.

”You wouldn’t.”

”I don’t know, maybe you’d have some company, I’m okay here seriously.” Charles sighed and here it is again your thoughts of him.

”I haven’t been with anyone since I’ve signed the contract.”

”Why.”

”Because no matter what, I’m not a cheater.”

”But we’re not in a relationship.” silence

”Have you been with anyone?”

”No, that’s not what i meant, I just mean that you can live your life how you want it.”

”Well, I don’t want to be a cheater we’re getting married in a few months.”

”Well, I’m not with anyone and haven’t been in almost a year.”

”Okay.”

”Okay, see you later Charles.”

”See you.”

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Charles_leclerc

Liked by Landonorris, Maxverstappen1, your username and 3,380,394 others

No place like Monaco ❤️

More Comments

username93 we saw the last slide charles

username24 Charles in his soft launch era 🔥

username37 does this mean the end to his hoe era for real

username76 I’m going to miss fuckboy Charles

username37 You’ll be missed charles 💔

username83 you all think its the same girl from the paparazzi pictures 🤔

username69 I think so, same hair and everything

Landonorris 👀

Carlossainz55 when did this happen?

username28 lol not even his friends knew

username86 I bet @/pierregasly knows what up

Pierregasly not this time

username08 can’t believe there’s a day where Pierre is as clueless as we are

username90 I bet she’ll be gone in a week or two

username87 Uh who is this?

username48 Charles be careful there’s a gold digger trying to leach of you 🤮🐍

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Charles posted a few more times, without bringing your face in continuing the soft launch part of the ‘plan’. you’ve met his mother another time, and like the first time, seeing her so happy for Charles and being in love with you left you with guilt that kept you up at night. Alas it was time for you to make your appearance at a race, your dad had talk to you on the phone and told you to hurry up, he also tried to arrange for a ‘family dinner’ that you’ve refused over and over again. With that being said you texted Charles and you both agree for you to go to the race in the Netherlands. You’ve arrived separately from Charles in, coming from Italy. Charles’s room was a suite at the hotel, with a big sofa and a king sized bed. Charles arrived a day before you and was already out for media duties for quite some time, you had a work obligation that you couldn’t get out of and you haven’t really tried.

By the time you arrived and were out of the airport and at the hotel it was already getting dark out, you got into Charles’s room with the key he left for you at the reception. The room was clean, you've noticed with his suitcase open on the side, the first thing you did was shower and get into some lounge clothes, it was an oversized set that you wore around the house when you had guests over usually, not the usual boxer shorts and bralette you enjoyed.

Your phone has been going for a good 15 minutes now, making you sigh and go to the balcony to get fresh air with your phone in hand as you willed yourself to pick up. It was night time, and you had only turned the side lamp on in the room, making very faint light come out to the outside. after staring at the screen for what felt like eternity and with a shaky breath, you finally muster the courage to pick up his latest call. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

”y/n, finally, I’ve been calling you for days now.” Your father’s voice rang through the line, it was laced with irritation and anger, all directed towards her, as always leaving her shaky and scared.

”Sorry, father, I’ve been busy.” Your voice is barely over a whisper, a strained silence hung in the air for a moment, your hold on the phone tightened.

”Look, I’ve been patient enough with both you and Charles, but if you keep ignoring me and not doing as I asked, then your brothers will bare the consequences of your action, or none there of.” His tone was serious and unyielding, making you feel like a child once more.

“We will, I promise, tomorrow I’m going to the paddock.” You tell him straight after, and you hate how you want to please him just to get him off your back, the fear in you not lessening with age, he still has a hold over you.

“Good, that’s good.” He hummed and you hear your mother talking next to him for a moment before he’s speaking again. “Your mother is asking when you’ll be over for dinner with Charles.”

”I don’t know, we’re both super busy and-“

”And nothing, you come here as soon as you can, I’ll have none of this busy nonsense.” Your father interrupts his tone firm. “It’s time for the excuses to stop, I’ve been letting you handle how you get it out to the public on your own, but what I say goes.”

”I’ll talk to Charles, we’ll-we’ll figure something out.” You mutter and tears gather in your eyes, you try to fight them but like always when it came to your father they just fall freely. No matter what, you have no choice but to complain with his wishes/demands. For some reason after meeting his family, the thought of Charles seeing yours is leaving you with a sense of dread and despair. soft sobs leave your mouth in waves, you look out at the view, you’re high, the street looks far away, and you wonder, just for a second, if you jump would you die instantly or would you be in pain, is that kind of pain better or worse that the one you’re in. shaking your head away from those thoughts, you turn to go inside.

Unbeknownst to you Charles has made it to the hotel room, just to catch the last of the conversation, and he’s heard you cry. He stood in the bedroom just watching you crumple under the weight of your emotions, a few times he had to stop himself form going to you and pulling you in for a hug.

When he sees you turning to come back inside he makes his way to the door of the room and acts like he just came in.

”Hey.” Charles greets you softly, he couldn’t act happy when he just saw you falling apart.

”Hey.” You put on a brave smile but he could see your wet cheeks and red eyes, your nose red as well. “How was today?”

”It was okay, tiring, but good.” Charles says and his eyes don’t leave your figure as he watched you escaping to the sofa where you practically had your back to him.

”That’s good, I’m tired as well, I think I’ll go to bed now.” You say and pull on the extra covers you found in the closet.

”Now? did you eat?”

“No, but I’m tired and not hungry.”

”Oh, okay, sleep well then.”

”Thanks, you too.”

Charles walks into the bedroom and closes the door lightly, you’re not sleeping and you won't find sleep for a while, your mind is swirling with emotions and thoughts that are hunting you down. You don’t cry but a few tears slip as you try not to think about what tomorrow will hold or all the things you have to do.

The next day, you wake up bright and early, before Charles’s alarm goes off, you don't need to shower since you did the night before, but you slip into the bathroom, and start on your makeup, and get dressed. You know that every single thing about you will be all over social media and criticised and analysed by thousands if not millions of people Charles has over 10 million followers on Instagram after all. When Charles was up, you were just finishing up your hair, the door was open. You heard movement from behind you and looked up through the mirror to see a shirtless half asleep Charles, his sweatpants low on his hips, your hands stopped mid air with your curling iron. You’re just a woman, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wonder, starting with his messy and tousled hair moving to his chest and arms and his abs.

“Morning.” His morning voice made you blink and look away, you had to swallow before you were able to regain your composure and your voice.

“Morning, I’m almost done.” You say and focus on not looking at him and just looking at what you were doing.

”That’s okay.” Charles says and goes to the second sink in the bathroom next to you and starts brushing his teeth, you both were doing your business in silence but your eyes wonder to him every few seconds, his eyes was half closed and he was half asleep still, so for you it was a blessing, being able to look at him as much as you wanted, so you admired him without him seeing.

You’re finished before him and leave the bathroom, it didn’t take long for him to be ready, dressed in his Ferrari team kit and a pair of skinny jeans, you bite your tongue not to comment on it, you’re not close for you to say anything about his choice of clothes.

On the ride to the track, you felt a sense of anticipation and excitement, your eyes looking outside the window taking in the city, after today your life as you know it will change. Every single thing you do will be under the microscope, you felt like a teen again but this time it’s not going to be just your parents watching, it’s going to be thousands of people, all with their opinions that they’re not afraid of saying, online at least.

”It’s going to be okay.” Charles said and you turned to look at him only to find him already looking at you. “You don’t have to be nervous, after we go inside, you can stay in my room if you want.”

”No it’s okay, I can do it.” You tell him with a grateful smile, as far as arranged marriages go, Charles isn’t the worst option, if you met in other circumstances you wouldn’t have gone for him simply for his career choice in F1 but you’re glad it’s not someone worse.

When you make it there and park, Charles gets out first and walks to your side opening the door, all with a smile on his face, he helps you out of the Ferrari and you get out and take your first look around, there’s fans everywhere all screaming and shouting his name. Some of his team are already waiting for him, and when he goes to sign caps and merch, one of the females introduces herself and stands with you. you ask her about her job and make small talk, while you’re waiting. She also gives you your pass that Charles requested and you put it around your neck.

“He’s signing a lot of things.” You observe your ‘boyfriend’ as he’s going from one person to the other.

“Yeah, he’s known for singing anything.” You hum and watch how nice Charles is with everyone. “We usually have to pull him away.”

They did pull him away and inside the paddock you guys went. Charles let you walk a bit behind him, knowing that photos of him will be taken and you’re nervous enough, he didn’t want to make it worse for you. it’s been so long since you’ve been at a race it feels like a life time ago, you forgot the sheer magnitude of the event, the air was alive with the hustle and bustle of people around you, creating an atmosphere that’s charged with excitement, and anticipation. After a long walk you make it to Ferrari’s motorhome, Charles introduces you to a few people who you can stick with when he’s on duty. His hand was on the small of your back when he was leading you through the crowds, but other than that you both weren’t showing any signs of affection at all. That didn’t change the fact that once he was in his race suit and it was hanging but his waist you were looking, it was today that you’ve realised how fit he is, he doesn’t just have a good face but a fit body as well.

Watching FP1 brought back all your memories of when you enjoyed racing, I mean how could you not, you’re a Morelli it’s in your blood. Maybe if your relationship was different with your parents who knows where you’d be today. In effort to distance yourself from your parents you’ve strayed from a lot of things that you enjoyed that they loved or wanted you to do.

Between the practice sessions Charles took you with him to get lunch at the cafeteria, he had to stick to his diet and you choose whatever you wanted. sitting down you’re soon joined by Carlos Sainz, you haven’t met him yet, but you saw him when you were looking up Charles online and his face is everywhere along with all the other drivers.

”Hey mate, you haven’t introduced us.” Carlos said and sat down across from the two of you, Charles was telling you about what to expect during the rest of the day and the next two days before he was cut off by his teammate.

”Carlos meet y/n, y/n meet Carlos.” Charles introduced you and you gave the Spanish driver a smile and offered to shake his hand.

”Hey Carlos.”

“Hello, I didn’t know Charles was bringing anyone with him today.” Carlos said before he started eating.

“Yes, I had work and we weren’t sure if I could make it or not.” Half a lie, you knew you’d be here for a while but you did have work.

“Ah, so what do you do?” Carlos asked and he was expecting to hear a model.

”An artist.” Carlos was surprised and proceeded to ask you about what kind of art, where you studied and about living in Italy. The three if you walked back to the brahe together that’s when Charles informed his teammate that you speak Spanish.

”You know y/n speaks Spanish, she says fluently but I’m not good enough to verify that.” Charles said and you gave him a look that had him laughing.

”You don’t believe me?” You ask him and he shrugs innocently.

"No need to worry, I can verify it for you." Carlos fake comforted his teammate and turned to you. "So where did you learn Spanish?"

"I took online classes when I was in 8th grade." You told him and he was impressed, you laughed at his surprised look, you are fluent and your accent is good. "I went to Spain once and just loved the language."

"Mate, she's fluent." Carlos turned to look at Charles who laughed at the two of you, Carlos then turned and continued talking to you. Charles was needed for something and so he left the two of you talking, Carlos was asking you about where you went in Spain and if you want to go again, he recommended a few places and then he learnt you spoke six languages, and so you were made to talk to him in all of them and his face was priceless, had you laughing. He may not have understood everything but he

knows enough to know you're fluent.

"Charles, where did you find this one?" Carlos joked with Charles when he came back, and that had your smile faltering and for Charles to freeze a bit, if Carlos noticed he said nothing.

“It’s a secret.”

“Fine, have your secrets.”

The rest of the day went by nicely and seamlessly, the Ferrari boys did good, no one was beating Max but they've done good. You haven't checked your phone all day, when you made it back to the hotel, Charles went to shower and you laid on the sofa to scroll through. Your Instagram account has gained over 10K followers, you had pictures of your work more than ones of you, but the secret is out, now everyone knows you. You didn't dare check Twitter; the app always scares you.

You heard the shower turn off, when you got a call from your father you contemplated not answering but knowing this would make it much worse you just picked up.

“Hello.” you say on the phone and close your eyes tight, your head on the pillow.

“What do you think you're doing?” Was the first thing you heard, he was angry very angry at what you have no idea.

“Wh-”

“Shut up I'm not done talking, do you know what you've done, why are there more pictures of you and Carlos than with you and Charles. Do you want to ruin the family reputation, do you not take this seriously?”

“What are you talking about?” Today was good. You had fun today and you've done everything he asked you to do, yes reluctantly and you push it off but you do it nonetheless, you sit up as you get agitated. “I've done EVERYTHING you asked me to do, I was just talking to Carlos, there's nothing to it.”

“Don't you fucking talk back to me young lady, haven't done anything good your whole life, you never listen, tomorrow I better see you and Charles selling this or you'll feel the consequences to your actions.” He hangs up and you throw your phone away, cursing under your breath your body shakes with sobs, your head in your hands. Nothing is ever enough for your father, you're never enough.

Charles sighs and this time he doesn't think about it he sits down beside you and pulls you in for a hug, you let him, your face hiding in his neck. Charles shushes you and holds you, you're clutching his shirt in your fist. Charles has a good heart he

doesn't like seeing people crying and he's come to see you as a friend now, a new friend that he's getting to know. It makes him angry that a father would make their daughter cry this much and wouldn't care, he feels blessed for having his parents and makes him feel bad for you. Your childhood must've not been easy. He whispers words of comfort in French and lets you let it all out, your body is shaking for a while

before you slowly stop, when Charles looks down he sees you sleeping. He moves you slowly not wanting to wake you up and carries you bridal style, and he manages to get you to bed before you begin to stir.

"What?" you say confused.

"Hey, just sleep." Charles says and pushes your hair out of your face, you look around and realise you're in his bed.

“No, this is your bed.” You tell him and try to get up but he stops you.

“Just sleep, it can't be that comfortable on the sofa.” He says and you lay back down.

“But you have work tomorrow.” You mutter and rub your eye, it's a bit sensitive from all the crying you've been doing.

“It's fine, a night on the sofa wouldn't hurt me.” Charles says with a smile but you're stubborn, you’re not about to let a man that drives fast cars for a living sleep on the sofa and wake up with back pains.

“Well the bed is big, we can share.” You say and Charles looks at you, he takes you in, you're half asleep, your eyes puffy and bloodshot with tones of worries and things to think about but here you are wanting to make sure he's okay and comfortable.

“Okay, yeah.” Before Charles could make it to his side of the bed you're already asleep, he lays there and wonders how many times you've cried yourself to sleep, how many sleepless nights you've had, how many times you went though restless days by yourself. He knows you have two brothers, he knows they're kind to you that they're not like your parents, but they're not in your life, it seemed to him that they moved out once they were old enough and forgot about you a little, both with their own lives now.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

The next morning Charles asks you what your father wanted and you didn't really want to tell him at first but he managed to get it out of you.

"Just tell me from now on, we're both in this not just you." Charles tells you as he drives to the circuit.

“But this is your life, and this is your career and I just don't want to be a burden or for you to have to think that you have to be stuck with me all day or something.” You tell him, angling yourself to face him.

“y/n, we're a team, okay, for this to work we have to be always on the same page and I consider you my friend now, so just let me help you where I can and you help me where you can okay?” You smile at his words, a team, you have someone on your team.

“Okay.”

When you make it to the circuit, it's a repeat of the day before, you stand to the side while Charles does his thing and he walks in front of you, but half way through he stops and holds his hand out for you with a smile, you blink a couple of times before you take his hand. When you get to the garage Charles is whisked away for debrief and you're left there, you were looking at his car admiring the Ferrari, when a mechanic sees you and walks over.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" He asks and you look up at him with a smile.

“Yeah, it's been years since I was this close to a Formula 1 car.” You tell him, there's rumours around that you're a Morelli and everyone in Ferrari knows of your family, so it takes him by no surprise that you've been close to one before. “It's so different from the ones in the early 2000s.”

“Much different, we have done a lot of changes, look…” And he begins showing you what has changed, why cars nowadays are faster and stronger, the aerodynamics and mechanical differences, some things go over your head, but you know the basics of a formula 1 car.

When Charles finishes up, he sees you talking with the mechanic. He's leaning over the halo as he's showing you something, Charles smiles and walks over.

“Do you want to get in?” Charles asks and you turn to look at him startled, and excited, giddy even.

“Can I?” You ask with a grin and he nods, one of the PR crew takes out his phone to video this while another takes pictures, you're a Morelli and you're getting into the car and Charles is now back in a committed relationship so he's back in his good boy era, all things that made them want to document this happening.

“Place your foot here.” Charles says and points to a spot, you do as he says and he holds on to your waist as you wobble a little before you push yourself up and over the halo, he removes the steering wheel before you sit down and watches you as you get comfortable in his car. His smile is big on his face as you get excited.

“This is amazing.” You say and Charles puts back the steering wheel. You put your hands on the wheel. “So many buttons.”

“Can you reach the paddle?” Charles asked amused, he can tell that the seat is a bit big for you, you wiggle your leg and shake your head no.

“You should be thankful I'm shorter or I would've taken your seat.” You tease him and a few people laugh.

“You like the view from the car?” Charles asks and you nod looking up at him, he's leaning over the halo to look at you.

“Yeah, last time I was inside one I was like 6 or 7.” You tell him and he hums to himself, always finding something new about you, you were right about the fact that the booklet had many wrong things, it missed a lot as well.

At one point in the day Fred came over to say hello to you, he like everyone found out who you were.

“Ms. Morelli, it's nice to meet you.” You shake his hand and smile at the team principal.

“Please call me y/n, it's nice to meet you too.”

“It's been a while since we saw one of the Morelli's in the paddock.” Fred said and you felt Charles move a bit beside you. “haven't seen your father as well.”

“Yeah, well me and my siblings went to school and then uni and just were so busy.” You say and don't mention your father, he has a lot of influence in Ferrari. Charles has a hand on your back in comfort, it seems that after yesterday he's taken the role of comforting you, there's something that has definitely changed in your relationship, you've grown closer and you feel comfortable around each other.

“Yes of course, who knew it'll be Charles that'll bring you back.” He commented and you looked at Charles and smiled, he returned the smile with one of his own. You both knew the truth behind everything and it was killing you both to have to be lying to everyone like that, but why is it getting easier, why is it that since you've grown closer and find more about the other that it's not necessarily all lies.

The rest of the weekend went along great, you met a lot of people and as expected your name and your family's relation to Ferrari was everywhere. Those calling you a gold-digger have now turned to calling you attention seeker. You did post pictures of you to Instagram and the Ferrari team posted the video of you getting in the car, and somehow they found pictures of you in an F1 car from the 2000s, you've never seen that picture before but here it was. Charles texted you saying how you've been in a Ferrari way earlier than him, making you laugh imagining him pouting a little at the thought. After that weekend you've been texting more, talking more and just discovering everything about the other.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

A day before Charles has to fly to Monza you've both in Monaco for the 'family dinner' you've been dreading so much. You've made it to Charles's house to meet there before you head 'home'. Charles was in his bedroom finishing getting ready and you were on the sofa scrolling through your social media and texting your brothers to see when they'll be there.

“Is this okay?” Charles asks, coming out of his bedroom you look up from your phone and see him in a tan dress shirt, a blazer with a pair of dark pants, not skinny, he has one of his watches on and no other accessories. He. Looked. HOT.

“Yeah, just lose the jacket.” You say and stand up, he takes his jacket off and places it to the side. He holds his arms out for your opinion and you smile. Oh if you were a normal couple going to see your normal family, this would've been perfect. Instead you're going to see the man that's been threatening you both. You left your small carry-on at Charles' house, planning to head back to his, so you could fly out to Italy together.

Charles drove the small distance to your family house and parked in the space that's meant for you. You got a text from your brothers Telling you they're already there.

“Are you ready?” You ask Charles in the elevator.

“Yes, are you?” He doesn't want to see your father ever again, but this is much worse for you, you're related to that man.

“As I'll ever be.” You hesitate for a second before you say. “I’m sorry for what’s about to happen.”

“you don't have to.”

“I feel like I should though.” You both don't say more on the topic, as always a maid opens the door for you, and you both step inside, you're led to the formal living room, where the guests are always hosted, can't show everyone we're normal and have normal looking living rooms, oh no what will they say about us. The looks are where formal ends, because once you walk in you smile seeing how Matteo is sat with

his legs spread, and Marco is slouched in his seat, they're both being extra with it and you and your parents know it but it doesn't mean it's not funny.

"Oh y/n, dear I haven't seen you in so long." Your mum says and walks up to you kissing both your cheeks before she moves on quickly to Charles. “You must be Charles, it's good to finally meet you.”

“It's uh, it's good to meet you too.” Charles doesn't know what he expected but it wasn't this, his eyes moved from your mother to your brothers who had their sights on him, making him a bit nervous. They're protective of you, but so is he and they might not like him for marrying you, but he doesn't like them for not taking good care of you. He shakes all their hands and you exchange hugs, you don't bother saying or doing anything with your father other than a quick hello, before you both sit on a sofa together.

It's been four months since the start of this whole thing, and here you are all gathered together, the people affected, threatened, forced and orchestrated by this marriage.

"I heard you haven't won any races this season." Marco said and your eyes snapped to him, his tone is hostel, not friendly at all.

“No, RedBull has been dominating for a while." Charles says, shaking the dig thrown at him.

“He's been on podiums though.” You find yourself sticking up for Charles, he gives you a grateful look, which you return with a smile.

“So he hasn't been winning.”

“No one has been but Verstappen.” You roll your eyes at the childish behaviour your older brothers gained suddenly.

“And you grew up in Monaco?” Matteo then asks him.

“Where are you going with this?” You ask him confused by all the questions.

“What? I'm just getting to know my brother in law.” Matteo tried to act all harmless and innocent but you know your brothers well enough to know there's more to it than that.

“No you're not, please cut it out, it's not like we're all here because we want to anyways.” Your mum gasps, you give her a look, why is she acting like this is normal? You're all been forced to be here and as innocent as she likes to act, she's always in on what your father is up to. She knows everything.

“Let's move to the dining room, why don't we?” your father says and stands up, he thrived on chaos so he's happy how things are right now, split and concur is his favourite method. Charles takes your hand in his, making you pause and look at him he mouths 'it's okay,' and you nod and try to return the smile but you’re not confident and it shows.

Your mum made your brothers sit next to each other so you and Charles sat next to each other, he's closest to your mother and you're next to your father. Food was already laid out for all of you, the start of the meal was silent.

“You know y/n, I'm so happy you're finally in a relationship.” Your mother suddenly says and you stop the fork from reaching your mouth to look at her like she's crazy.

“What are you talking about?” Did she mean you and Charles or something else?

“I'm talking about you and Charles, you silly girl.” You scoff and place your fork on the table.

“You do know that we're forced right? You were here when your husband told me.” Your father sighs not liking where this is going, he's okay with you and your brothers doing whatever to each other but for a twisted reason that is not love he hates when you speak back to your mother.

“Yes mother, and besides, Charles isn't really a golden boy to be proud of having as a son-in-law.” Marco takes the chance to bring Charles in again, he's showing him that he doesn't approve of him.

“You know if you didn't like it, why didn't you stop this?” Charles asks Marco, he's tired of being blamed and the one taking the hits when the person responsible for all of this is sitting two seats down from him.

“Because he threatened to cut us off and stop us from working.” Marco was getting agitated and angry.

“Marco shut up!” You exasperated.

“And what? You let your sister take the fall for you, so you could live happily.” Charles shot back, anger for you cursing through his veins.

“Everyone calm down.” Your mum tried to reason but everyone ignored her.

“Oh so you think you care more about her than we do, now?” Matteo sneers and you groan, this testosterone fight is only going to lead to chaos.

“I wasn't the one who left her alone.”

“Okay, you all shut up right now!” your father shouted and everyone fell silent again. “This is unacceptable, Charles and y/n will be married, and you're all going to be happy about it and that's the last I'll hear of it.”

“So now you're telling us how to feel?” The words leave your mouth before you realise, Charles takes your hand in his, and you slowly look from the plate you had in front of you and up to your father, there’s not going back now. “You've dictated our lives, and even now we're all adults you're making us do what you want, we've done

everything you've asked, but you've never been happy, we were never good enough for you.”

“Don't talk back to me.”

“No, it's not fair, you sold me to someone you don't know, I'm your daughter.” You say and turn to look at your mother. “And you keep acting like you love us, when you know everything and just do nothing, you've never stood up to us.” She takes a sip from her wine glass. “Yes, that's all you do, drink.” You stand up and throw your napkin on the plate. “Let's go Charles.”

Charles stands up and follows you out, as your father shouts after you. “You stop right there you stupid girl.”

“I'll get married, okay, I'll do it, I'll do everything in the contract, anything other than that is none of your business.” You say not turning to look at him as you spoke those words and leave your hand clutching Charles's tightly.

Charles doesn't let go of your hand, and it gives you comfort, you have someone on your side at all times now, looking at Charles you're happy it's him you'll marry and not someone else.

“Thank you.” Your voice is just over a whisper, the dinner took too much out of you.

“Why? I don't think I've made it better.”

“No, you made it all so much better.” Charles sends you a questioning look, tightening your hold on his hand. “You were by my side.”

“I'll always be on your side.” Charles says and your heart skips a beat, there, he's done it, Charles Leclerc has done it, he has your heart, it belongs to him now and there's nothing you or anyone could do to change this. Charles doesn't let go of your hand when you arrive, he just holds your hand when you're walking off to his house, not in the elevator, not until you walk in. “Come on, I think we need to talk.”

You sit on the sofa with your legs under you and Charles also sits down facing you.

“I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago.” Charles starts, your heart beats faster in your chest as your eyes meet and you both don't look away. “Why did you agree to this marriage?”

“Because my father said if I don't he’ll cut us all off, he'll make sure none of us ever find work again, and my brothers, they have families and children, I couldn't let him do that to them.” you tell him and push your hair back. “I was happy the last couple of years in Italy and then he just dropped the bomb on me, and… here we are.”

“Here we are.”

“Why did you agree to it?” You've had your theories at the start of this relationship, but as you've gotten to know Charles you realised how wrong you are.

“I know you've read all the articles about me, it's a long story but I've been with my girlfriend for almost five years when I found out she was cheating on me.- Charles said his voice soft, making you take his hand in yours and give him a squeeze. “I spiraled after that, other than racing which isn't going great, I was always drinking and sleeping around, it affected me her cheating more than I thought it'd ever way, it just shocked me and left me not knowing what to do, my reputation was going down and the sponsors were getting anxiety so your father told me if I don't agree to this I'd kiss my dream goodbye, no future in Formula 1, and I couldn't, it's been my dream and I promised my father I'd do everything I could to be world champion and..."

“You haven't made it yet.”

“No, not yet.” You smile before you laugh, Charles looks at you like you're crazy and you shake your head. “Sorry, it's just so messed up, this whole thing is just so messed up.”

”It is.” Charles chuckles and you sigh, this is all a bit too much. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

An involuntary smile makes its way to your face, you just melted, heart skipping a beat and butterflies in your stomach. the whole shebang.

“I’m happy it’s you too, Charlie.” Hearing you call him Charlie makes him smile, your gaze not straying from the other, basking in the moment, a moment you could ignore everything and everyone, a moment that’s just between you too. Maybe this whole arranged marriage thing will be okay in the end.

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Next day you both fly out in Charles’s private jet with his family and team, Lorenzo is still standoffish, but now that you know that he’s in on everything you don’t blame him. He’s not rude to you at all, but he’s cold, something that you attributed to how he was raised. Even though he knows his brother is forced into it, he hasn’t been rude after the first time you met, when he just found out the truth.

The plane landed in Milan where you live, but you went with the family to Monza for the race, promising to take Charles to your studio after the weekend.

The first two days, media and FP1-2, go like how all the other races go, this time you’ve met more drivers, you met Pierre and Kika are one of the ones you met and was found talking to. You and the model exchanged details and followed each other on Instagram, you all went out to have dinner after media day, and you and Kika sat together talking all the time, with Charles and Pierre sat on each side of you not understanding how two people who just met could have this much to talk about and how you talk about everything.

pierregasly posted to their story

caption[ I think i lose my girlfriend @/charles_leclerc]

Charles_leclerc reposted to his story

Caption [looks like it mate]

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Lorenzo was watching the both of you with hawk eyes, he felt like things have changed between the two of you or you’ve become better actors, because why does Charles have his hand on the back of your chair, why is your hands laced together a lot, why are you leaning into him, are do you have inside jokes and share those knowing looks. You’re having deep conversation, a closeness and ease that hasn’t been there before. So he takes the moment you went to Charles’s driver’s room to leave your bag there and took his brother to the side.

”What’s going on with you and y/n?” Enzo asked Charles, his brows furrowing.

”What are you talking about?” Charles asked, his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding, he’s been denying his growing feelings for you, but it seemed like his brother picked up on it. “We’re just trying to make the best of a… difficult situation.”

Lorenzo wasn’t convinced he knew Charles, he knows there’s more to it.

“Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself, Charles.” Lorenzo said his tone leaving no space for argument. “I can see the way you look at her, the way you care about her, you like her, and I think she likes you too.”

For a moment Charles was silent, his mind racing with emotions and he’s thinking about the time you’ve come to share together and how he’s been enjoying it. he had spent so long denying his feelings for you, burying them down, he tried to tell himself that no he doesn’t find you the prettiest most beautiful woman he has ever met, he hates when you go on rants about the things you love, he hates that you’ve picked up on so many habits he has and have come to understand him, he hates how you’re passionate and warm and kind and soft and elegant, he hates it, he just hates it. But here he is standing in front of his brother, the walls that have been down for a while are just made apparent to him, he just realised them. He nods, and a smile slowly appears on his face.

”Yeah, I do, I do like her.” Charles says his eyes are not meeting his brother’s as he’s lost in thought, his brows move slightly together and then he’s shaking his head no. “No, actually I love her.”

Lorenzo’s expression softened at his brother’s admission, a sense of understanding coming over him. “Then just embrace it, and let her know.”

”I just wish we met under different circumstances.” Charles confessed, his voice tinged with regret. “But either way, I’m just glad that fate brought y/n into my life.”

And as they stood there in the hustle and bustle of the garage, Charles knew that he’s ready, he’s ready to tell you what he feels and maybe start dating for real this time, have a samples of normality in your relationship before you get married.

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After Sunday, Charles’s family flies back to Monaco and the Ferrari driver comes with you to Milan.

“Promise me you won’t judge.” You say to Charles after you turn to look at him, your studio’s key is already in the door waiting for you to twist it.

”I promise, mon amour.” Charles says and your face lights up at his pet name, you couch and turn to face the door.

”Didn’t have to say that.” You mutter and feel your cheeks turn pink, you open the door and lead Charles in, the big windows let in so much light but you go and turn on the light as well. The studios was spacious with high ceiling, paintings where leaning on the wall, a couple were covered, there was pain stains on the ground on the walls, there was a small kitchen to the side and a bathroom, there’s a pull out sofa against one wall with a few chairs littering the place and table with wheels, a table with no wheels, drawers of supplies and easels. This place truly looked like an artist's dream, it was messy but organised, it was all you.

”Wow.” Charles says and walks to the wall that had paintings on it, you follow him, keeping your eyes on him as you take in every little reaction he has. “You’re so talented y/n.”

”Thank you.” You reply softly. “You can flip through the paintings if you want, I'll make us tea.”

Charles has seen a lot of your work on your instagram and you’ve shown him a lot but seeing them in real life he realised they weren’t given justice with the photos, there’s so much detail in the work you’ve done, each brush stroke pressed with intention. Charles moved to the two covered ones, they were on the big size, his curiosity got the best of him and he pulled the fabric down.

”Wait Charles-“ It was too late, he saw them, his mouth hanging open as he stared at… himself.

“That’s-that’s me.” You sigh feeling embarrassed, your face turning red.

”Yeah.” You mumble and cough.

”Fucking hell, mon amour.” Charles turns to look at you and you’re looking away refusing to look in his direction, his eyes soften at your embarrassment. Charles walks up to you and you’re refusing to look at him, so gently cups your cheeks and your eyes meet his, getting lost in the shades of blue and green in his eyes. the shades you know from memory, the colours you painted and brought to life on your canvas. Charle’s breath gets caught in his throat, the words he was planning to say slipping from his mind, so he just presses his lips to yours, you gasp a little before following his lead, your hands clutching his shirt. It’s a moment of vulnerability, the product of simmering feelings that bubbled to reach the surface. your kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and desperate with each passing moment, as you’re trying to pour all your pent-up feeling, emotions and desires into this single electrifying moment. You move closer, your bodies pressed together, holding to each other’s curves, the intensity bordering on desperation.

When you broke apart, gasping for breath Charles’s hands are still cupping your face, his eyes ablaze with fire that threatened to consume you both.

”I love you, y/n.” He whispered, his voice raw with emotion, your heart swelled with joy at his words, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reaches up to caress his cheek.

“And I love you Charles, with everything that I am.”

With a shared understanding and longing and love you sealed the moment with another searing kiss, letting together us a oissionate embrace that seemed to stretch on forever. In that moment, amidst the quietness of the studio, you were no longer bound by a contract, but by the pure and unadulterated love for each other. In each other’s arms you’ve found the only solace and sanctuary you’ve ever needed or wanted.

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It’s not to say that everything turned out to be what you wanted, in a couple months and while Charles was on his winter break your wedding was set. There was no talking your father out of it, but you weren’t dreading the moment anymore. You know that fate was going to bring you together in the end, one way or the other. Yes you’d still be dating, but in the end you’d get engaged and then married. Speaking of engaged, Charles did propose to you, it was a private event, only the two of you on his yacht away from prying eyes, with soft music playing in the background. The monegasque got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Ignoring the fact that you’re bound by a contact you agreed instantly, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face.

But here you are now standing across from Charles, your eyes locked in a silent exchange if understanding, the weight of their circumstances hung heavy in the air. The officiant, cleared his throat and said his words singling to you to start your vows.

Charles took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he spoke his voice steady yet laced with emotions.

”y/n, I know that our beginning is not the one we would’ve liked for each other, but I’m glad that it did. But I know that fate has intertwined our future together, one way or the other I would’ve made my way to you. In you, I have found a companion, a confidante and a source of strength. I vow to stand by your side through everything that may come our way, to support you, to cherish you and to love you with all that I am, for as long as we live.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you listened to Charles’ words, your eyes shining with unshed tears. You took a moment to compose yourself before speaking your voice soft but unwavering.

“Charles, Charlie.” You begin and your voice starts to tremble with emotion the more you speak. “When we first met I never imagined that our paths would be so intertwined, that I’d reach a point where I can’t imagine living without you. In you I have found a partner in crime, in life. You’ve showed me so much love that I never experienced before and for that I’ll be always grateful, I vow to stand by your side to be on your team, to lift you up when you falter, to love you unconditionally and with every fibre of my being.”

In that moment, those who doubted you, those that thought they won, those that wished your relationship would end, all knew that as you shared your first kiss as husband and wife, that you’re a team, a family, and that nothing can bring you down. You made each other stronger, you made each other happy, and you had your whole futures in front of you to heal all the wounds you had in the past, you’ll both grow and heal and live together.

Your journey is far from over, there’s so much that you’ll face. But you’ll face it together in each other’s arms, where you felt the purest kind of happiness.

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