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imaginaryf1shots · 2 months

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Forced | Charles Leclerc vr.

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

Carlos vr.

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

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]

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

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.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

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.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

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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star-my · 1 month

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BTS Fic Recs ☆ Tumblr (i)

These are all available on tumblr as of April 2024. Some are likely crossposted on ao3 as well.

~Ao3 RECS HERE~ ~Recs (ii)~ ~Recs (iii)~

Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete. Most are BTS x (F!)Reader.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

If any authors tagged here wish to be removed/untagged, please lmk! | Shoutout to @ggukkiereads who does an amazing job creating rec lists, which helped me find many of these fics

F2L = friends to lovers ; E2L = enemies to lovers ; FE2L = frenemies to lovers ; R2L = rivals to lovers ; BFB = best friend's brother ; BBF = brother's best friend etc

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☆ drag me down (to hell) series by @kimvtae | Mafia AU, Single Parent AU | 58k (abandoned)

☆ Concealed Weapon by @gimmesumsuga | Mafia AU, Husband AU | 10k

☆ hate sex by @yeoreos | FWB Pw/oP | 4k

Overall Favourite Authors (If I recc'd all their works like I want to/more than I have, I'd have to make this series even longer >.<)

☆ @bonvoyagenoona's masterlist

☆ @chateautae's masterlist

☆ @flowerwrites06's masterlist

☆ @here2bbtstrash's masterlist

☆ @hollyhomburg's masterlist

☆ @icyhobi's masterlist

☆ @jungshookz's masterlist

☆ @justcallmenikki7's masterlist

☆ @kpopfanfictrash's masterlist

☆ @ladyartemesia's masterlist

☆ @luxekook's masterlist

☆ @magicalsalamander's masterlist

☆ @yminie's masterlist

☆ @yoonia's masterlist

#bts fic recs #group: bts #type: fic #i think i did a pretty good job of hiding my yoonkook bias if i do say so myself :]

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lyriumcoloredskies · 6 months

Text

Shaken Up Hearts

Pairing: Sanji x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Zoro x Sanji, Zoro x Reader x Sanji WC: 10k Summary: Sanji's brain short-circuits. What? Did he hear that correctly? You both wanted him? “Don’t over think this.” Zoro murmurs into his ear, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin. CW: 18+ MDNI, alcohol consumption, misunderstanding, idiots in love, porn with way too many feelings, angst, jealousy, pining, PIV, anal sex, oral, threesome, guy on guy, girl on guy, bisexual sanji, bisexual zoro, reader is described as AFAB, polyamory, happy ending AN: *taps cigarette on the ashtray* look idk what to say, this was supposed to be a 5k word mindless smut but it turned into this because I am incapable of writing smut without feels it seems.

Faithfulness and resoluteness.

You and Zoro.

The two of you are held in high regard as the oldest crew members, with you joining only a few days after Zoro. Dependable and resilient, should any troubles find them on the seas, the crew knew they could always rely on you two. The sentiment is shared between you and Zoro. Time and time again, Zoro proved himself worthy of the mantle of first mate, making agonizing decisions for the betterment of the crew when even Luffy couldn’t. He was a surprising voice of pragmatism in the hardest of times, something you appreciated him for.

Zoro’s opinion of you ran deep as well. Steadfast, you were a beacon in the darkest times, an outstretched hand always offered to any nakama in need. Without hesitation, you always had the right words to breathe new life into the resolves of those around you.

It’s a deep respect that’s built off watching each other defeat every obstacle to persevere despite the difficult nature of having such large dreams in a vast ocean that only knows to crush the people that enter its waters. It’s something primal as you watch in titillation as Zoro dominates his adversaries with his iron will, something Zoro reciprocates with a voracious gleam in his eyes any time he fought alongside you.

That respect for each other would sometimes turn into something mischievous. Two tigers testing the limits of each other’s boundaries, teeth bared at the anticipation of gaining ground. Friendly competition the two of you called it – the crew called it anything but. The two of you were people who, once you set your mind to something, would chase the ends of the world for it. This included winning childish competitions. It was impossible to break the two of you apart when you decided to sink your teethes into each other like snarling pups. The point was proven early into your journey, during the banquet at Vivi’s castle, an incident that would aptly be named the Drinking Contest Incident of Alabasta, where the two of you were goaded by Usopp into seeing how many barrels of alcohol each of you could consume.

'Surely they won’t go too far' Usopp thought.

He was proven wrong when both you and Zoro neared the bottom of the second barrels, only taking a break to puke in the Royal Alabastan Gardens before going back to drinking – health be damned. The night ended in you and Zoro out cold, laid out on your sides as to not choke on your own vomit while Chopper flittered about, panicking that the two morons might actually die in his care. After seeing Chopper’s visage overcome hysterics, face streaked with tears and snot, Nami beat the both of you over the head the next day. She sternly put her foot down on any future y/n and Zoro competitions. The rest of the crew dutifully agreed that you and Zoro were not to be trusted. It only took two more incidents for you and Zoro to admit they were right. It was purely out of self-preservation, lest the two of you not even survive to see your dreams fulfilled. Occasionally the competitiveness would rear up, but time had tempered the two of you. The both of you found less and less things worth fighting over, no longer did you fight over bottles of wine and sake, instead choosing to share.

Life was funny in that way.

****

You were on your 5th bottle of wine and Zoro on his 7th, not that you were counting.

Of course not.

The warm embrace of alcohol has long since settled in your flesh, the balmy air adding to the flush of your cheeks. You found yourself swaying to the beat of the Shandorian drums, beat thrumming in your veins. Drunken eyes watched as your crewmates and the Skypeians dance around the bonfire, care thrown to the wind. You glaze over the figure of Usopp surrounded by a group of children, no doubt enthralling them with a legendary tale of Captain Usopp, commander of 8000 troops.

A mixture of the wine and altitude have you searching for a place to sit, wanting to not fall on your ass in spectacular fashion. Your head swivels about, you see Robin in deep discussion with Gan Fall and rule that out. Another turn a few degrees to the left and you spy Zoro sitting alone. Fueled by bad ideas and Skypeian wine, you grab another bottle before settling on the log next to Zoro, leaving a comfortable distance in between. The rich tannins of the wine dance delightfully on your tongue, and you decide to take another pull before you offer the bottle to Zoro. He accepts, your fingers minutely brushing against each other at the pass. He takes a moment to read the label before taking a swig, throwing his head back, the prominent veins of his neck highlighted by the firelight. Traitorous eyes linger for too long at the bob of his adams apple. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth, watching the silly antics of your crew as they celebrate this hard earned win.

Zoro is the first to break the lazy pattern of back and forth with the wine. Your outstretched arm aches as you hold the bottle out for a mite too long. The confused look you offer him goes unanswered as well, the swordsman a million miles away. Your eyes follow his gaze and you can’t help the feeling that settles into your stomach with the wine.

It’s Sanji.

He’s staring at Sanji.

Sanji, who is bathed in orange glow from the bonfire, his porcelain skin flushed with pink like an angel dusted it over his cheeks. Emotions well inside of you, flooding into an ugly feeling that you found yourself wadding in. Not wanting to bother with the messiness of it all, you brashly decide to down the rest of the bottle, hoping that the burn of the alcohol would drown everything out. To hell with feeling bad on a night as good as this.

Unfortunately, like a whore on the day that the rent is due, the feelings don’t stop bothering you, nagging constantly in the inner cogs of your mind. Inhibited by the mind meddling nature of wine, your mouth opens and words you don’t recognize tumble out.

“Got a crush?”

Your fishing attempt snags you a gaping, sputtering Zoro. Fuck, now you wish you hadn’t said anything at all. Zoro’s hilarious dumbfounded expression only soothes your heart a tiny bit.

Unrestrained, a loud cackle rips out of you, another cheap cover to hide the hurt radiating through you. It seems to further Zoro’s embarrassment, the man’s cheeks flushing a pretty red. In an attempt to get even, he snatches the bottle from you only to realize it was empty.

“Asshole.”

The only response he gets from you is another cackle. It takes a few moments for you to settle down, letting the silence envelope the two of you again.

“If you like him so much, why don’t you tell him?”

You pick at the skin near your nails, an ugly habit.

“Tch. It’s not that simple.”

You roll your eyes, of course it was simple. Zoro was just an idiot. Irritation lingers like a fog in your mind as the wine fails to numb your pesky feelings. Quickly, you lose yourself, letting various fleeting thoughts pull you in every direction. Zoro doesn’t comment on your sudden silence, keeping you company while you think.

“What if I like him too?”

Two heads turn and eyes lock. Zoro’s eyes are dark and indecipherable to you as the firelight danced on them. Seconds tick by but neither of you drop your gaze.

“Marimo! Y/n-swan! Try these!”

Two pairs of eyes break their battle, swinging over to catch the sight of Sanji walking over, an excited wide grin gracing his delicate features. His signature cigarette firmly between his white teeth and in each hand he holds a skewers of meat and vegetables.

The blond thrusts a skewer to the both of you before sitting between the two of you. You examine the skewer, it’s comprised of some sort of marinated red meat and vegetables that look like mushrooms and leeks. Steam wafts upward and with it the smell of something peppery and tangy.

“The flavors are something I’ve never tried before! I asked them and they say that they use a combination of pink peppercorns and a citrus called the hand of god” Sanji prattles on, his enthusiasm palpable. You and Zoro watch him, engrossed in the boyish wonder on his face. Pairs of eyes meet again in a fragile moment. You have no words for Zoro and he has none for you, yet you know that the two of you understand each other. He studies you intensely before offering you a solid nod, one that you reciprocate. The cook chatters on, inhibitions lowered by the alcohol, oblivious to what was happening only a few inches from him.

****

The next few islands pass by uneventfully, both you and Zoro hesitant to make a move. It ends up an awkward dance around each other and Sanji, a weird tango of frustration whose steps involve having enough nerve to track down the blond but suffering from cold feet when it came to talking with him. It’s only after the events of Water 7 that you decide to muster up the gumption to try. Life was too short for you to shy away from the things you wanted, and you could tell Zoro decided the same.

“Sanji-”

The cook’s ears perk up at the melodic notes of your voice, heart stirring. He turns his attention from the prep work in front of him, meeting your face with a playboy smile.

“Yes, my sweet angel?”

“Do you mind if I watch you cook lunch?” you ask, the innocent tilt of your head making Sanji’s heart palpate. You wanted to watch him cook?

“O-of course my angel!”

You beam and it makes his heart beat rapidly. With gentle footsteps you pad into the kitchen. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of Sanji’s knifework taking over the small space. After a few minutes, his curiosity picks up and he peeks out of his periphery to see you standing a mere few inches from him, leaning close enough to touch his arm. He works on autopilot, hands relying on muscle memory as he prepped the vegetables for lunch. Your hands are clasped behind your back in your usual pose. For anyone else, Sanji would preen like a peacock, ready to show off his honed skills, but under the lens of your inscrutable eye, he feels so exposed. Trying to stave off sudden uncomfortableness of the silence his mouth opens, and he finds himself rambling about cooking techniques. Ever patient, you nod and comment in all the right places.

While Sanji loved every lady on the ship, in the deepest crevices of his heart, he would readily admit that you were his favorite. Your soft smiles of encouragement, the way you entertained his foolish notions, all of it made Sanji’s heart turn into goo in his chest.

Gods, you had managed to carve out your place in his heart so early, the memory often rewinding and replaying in his head. It hadn’t been long since he left Baratie to make his home on Merry Go, back when Luffy still had the habit of picking out the vegetables in all his dishes. You chided the boyish captain on his behalf. The first bits of kindness he received from someone who wasn’t Zeff or the Baratie cooks.

“Luffy, Sanji worked hard to cook us this food. Don’t disrespect his efforts by being picky.”

After dinner that you offered him an earnest smile, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“In case anyone hasn’t told you yet, you’re doing a wonderful job Sanji. Dinner was lovely.”

It made him feel like the same little boy stuck in the North Blue watching his mother eat his food for the first time. The grip you had on him had only tightened since then.

“You know Sanji, every time you cook, I find myself understanding you a bit more.”

Hands plating an intricate dish pause.

“A-ah why do you say that y/n-swan?”

Sanji’s heart seizes as you take one of his hands into yours, fingertips running over callouses and burn scars. An action so tender that for just a moment, Sanji could fool himself into thinking it was the touch of a lover. Your heated gaze focuses on his hands with a look of fondness, it causes him to reel, mind spinning with possibilities of what this could all mean. Did you want this just as much as he did? Did you spend your nights staring at the ceiling and thinking of him like he did with you?

“I understand why you don’t want to fight with your hands. When you cook it’s like a symphony, every movement you take, every dish you make, it’s all meant to nourish and heal. You’re built to love Sanji, not destroy.”

The lump in his throat grows until it’s too painful for him to swallow, edges of his vision blur with tears, threatening to fall. Was he so transparent that you could read him so well? A few words and you had flayed open his very existence, his heart and soul. The words you say mean more than you’ll ever know. His ocean eyes search yours hoping to find an answer to his lingering questions.

BANG

He jumps, the two of you breaking apart at the loud noise, any tension in the room dissipating.

“OIII SANJIII!! LUUUUNCH!!!”

Luffy catapult himself at Sanji, wrapping his limbs around him like an unruly octopus, much to the ire of the chef. Sanji tries to wrestle himself out of Luffy’s grasp, angrily yelling at him.

The loud noise startles you, your heart pounding a mile a minute in your chest. You marinate in the sudden surge of adrenaline for too long before you feel a hand on your wrist. Eyes trace it back to its owner – Zoro. He assesses you for a few seconds.

“You alright?”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Your pulse pounds in every inch of you and your lungs greedily swallow air and hold it in an attempt to calm down. Your thoughts race and you feel the distinct feeling of regret. Regret that you didn’t make a bolder move.

A wobbly smile is the answer Zoro gets, one that makes him frown ever so slightly. The sight makes him rub circles on your wrist with his thumb. The contact soothes you and you’re grateful that you had the swordsman as such an understanding friend. You settle a free hand on his, offering him a brighter smile, hoping to lessen his worries.

“I am.”

The two of you unaware of the pair of eyes that witnessed the scene.

****

Sanji stares from the railing of the Thousand Sunny, the light of the setting sun casts an ethereal rosy light over the glimmering ocean. Pinks, reds, and blues mashing into a myriad of colors that all swirl like glittering gems.

From the upper deck, it isn’t the sun or the ocean that Zoro admires. It’s the glow of the sun on Sanji’s face. His eyes trace the elegant slope of his nose, drinking up the way the sun dyes his fair hair into a strawberry blond. His mouth goes dry, his palms becoming sweatier by the minute. Plucking up some courage, Zoro crosses the distance of the Sunny, stopping next to the object of his desires.

“The sunset is beautiful isn’t it.”

Zoro wants to cut out his tongue. What a lame comment. Sanji deserved better. Someone who could weave him a beautiful tapestry of words, words which don’t even exist in Zoro. After all he is a man of action and not platitudes.

Sanji hums out in agreement, never moving his eyes from the beauty of the scene in front of them.

They don’t talk much, but there’s an easiness to the quiet between them as they watch the sun inch closer into the horizon. The Sunny lurches at a particularly big wave and Sanji is caught off guard, wobbling a little. He’s steadied by a hand on the small of his back.

“Ah, thanks Marimo.”

“No problem, Sanji.”

His name on the swordsman’s lips gives him pause. Zoro almost never calls him by his name. Then he becomes acutely aware that Zoro hasn’t moved his hand, his palm is large and warm on Sanji’s clothed back. The contact is like lightning in his spine and for reasons unknown his heart stutters. He mildly wonders if he should say something, unsure of what the contact means for the two of them.

Deciding his brain feels too stuffed with cotton, Sanji fishes out his lighter and cigarette from his suit jacket pocket, hoping for some clarity in the nicotine. Stupidly, he holds the pack out for Zoro offering him a cigarette, despite knowing the swordsman doesn’t smoke. Before he can rescind the gesture, Zoro’s free hand takes a cigarette from him. Their eyes meet and he finds Zoro’s are unreadable as always. The other man brings the cigarette closer to his face, rolling it in his fingers as he examines the tobacco stick. A laugh huffs out of Sanji’s mouth as he lights his cigarette. He inhales precious smoke, and in the haze of his exhale, his eyes linger a little too long at the sight of the cigarette loosely held in between Zoro’s chapped lips.

“Here let me light it for you.”

Sanji holds the lit lighter out, only for the wind to snuff it. He tries again, flicking the flint a few more times. Each time the wind picks up, extinguishing the flame. A scowl overcomes Sanji’s face.

“Here, we can just-”

Sanji looks up from the lighter at the sound of Zoro’s voice. The other man pulls his hand from Sanji’s lower back and Sanji becomes conscious of the fact that the action leaves him sad at the loss of contact. That’s when he feels the green haired man’s large palm on the back of his neck, searing into his skin as he steadies him. Zoro leans in closer bringing his cigarette to the tip of Sanji’s.

A cigarette kiss.

Sanji’s brain is a mess. ‘It’s just the damn Marimo’ he tries to reason with himself, but he feels heat lick at the apples of his cheeks.

He’s blushing. At Zoro.

The man’s actions have flustered him to his core, tongue too heavy to form words. His eyes soak in the sight of Zoro slowly sucking in – ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, what the fuck?!’ his mind screams at him.

The man offers Sanji no reprieve, continuing his hold on Sanji as he made sure the of his cigarette is lit before breaking apart. Sanji’s world is tilted on its axis, heart pounding so furiously he feels it in his fingertips. He half expects it to burst through his sternum.

Zoro gives an experimental breath before hacking out a loud cough, sound reminiscent of a dying walrus. The scene is so jarring, how the man could go from turning Sanji’s brain into mush to coughing out a lung. It makes him laugh so hard he’s clutching his stomach, abs cramping as he tries to greedily swallow in more air.

It was so Zoro.

Through the tears of laughter, Sanji can see pink dusting Zoro’s face, clearly embarrassed by his lack of experience.

“Take slow inhales, mix it in with some fresh air, it gets easier after a while.”

Sanji’s smile is so wide it hurts his cheeks. He watches Zoro attempt again, the man’s body tensing in an effort to not cough out all the smoke.

“This is horrible Sanji. I don’t know how you do this every day.”

All Sanji can offer the man is a chuckle. He takes in the sight of the swordsman, bathed in the dying light of the sunset, shadows accentuating the strong lines of his face. He’s about to respond when he hears Nami’s voice calling for him.

“Sanji, the bathroom is free if you want to shower!”

He turns, giving her his undivided attention.

“Thank you Nami-chwan! You look especially beautiful after your bath!”

When Sanji turns back, Zoro is no longer facing him instead looking out into the ocean where the last glimmers of the sun fade into the horizon.

“Go ahead and take your bath, cook.”

Sanji manages a nod, feeling odd at the sudden change in attitude. Things had felt so great between them, so what happened? His feet feel heavy as he walks towards the bathroom. Halfway, he doesn’t know why but he spins on his heel, wanting to confront the man.

He wishes he didn’t.

He sees you with Zoro, again.

The two of you huddled close, your hand caressing the swordsman’s cheek. The both of you bathed in the beginnings of moonlight. Sanji’s heart clenches painfully.

It was just like before – Vinsmoke Sanji always comes in last.

****

Things progress at a snail’s pace. Both you and Zoro are seemingly thwarted at every turn whether it be Sanji rejecting your advances or being interrupted in the most inopportune times. A silver lining for Zoro comes in the form of you. Despite being his rival in love, you’re there to pick up the pieces of him, little pep talks flowing from your lips. He hopes that he’s done the same for you. The best of his efforts goes into repairing the shaky smiles on your face, splitting bottles of wine with you as the two of you gripe about love. It’s an odd routine, but one that Zoro finds himself not minding. There is comfort and familiarity in your company.

That was until the crew step foot on Sabaody Archipelago. Everything came to a grinding halt at Sabaody. It was an utter disaster. Not even a foot into the New World and the Grand Line had chewed the crew up and spat them back out.

Panic sets Zoro’s bones the minute he wakes up. Thoughts of his nakama rushing through his brain at breakneck speed. Were you all safe? Did you guys make it off Sabaody? Zoro keenly feels the loss of his crew, guilt seeping into every crack in his heart. If only he had been stronger - strong enough to defeat Bartholomew Kuma on Thriller Bark, strong enough to carry everyone’s dreams on his back.

He spends two days lost in the maze of a castle that weird Ghost Girl brought him to, trying desperately to find his swords. He squashes down the invasive thoughts attempting to claw its way into his mind – were you all even still alive? It doesn’t help that the girl, Perona he finds out is her name, keeps giving him directions that seem to get him lost even further. Frustration bubbles under his skin. He is wholly useless, a feeling that is reaffirmed when he is defeated by the humandrills, his only hope of reaching his friends dashed by his own inadequacy.

When he feels like things couldn’t get worse, he hears about Ace. Zoro wants to scream, to dig his fingers into his chest and rip out his own beating heart. Frustration, fury, despair – it all whirls inside of him for Luffy. How could things have gone so wrong?

Zoro tries hard not to wallow in his sadness. He beats down his pride and grovels to Mihawk, begging the man he wants to defeat one day to teach him, to make him into a man worthy of being called Luffy’s nakama.

Time flows, and slowly but surely, Zoro adapts to his life on the deserted island. Mihawk is a fair teacher and his brutal teaching methods have Zoro progressing faster than even he could admit. Although the lack of alcohol grates on his nerves. Though he would never admit it out loud, Perona isn’t too bad either when she isn’t annoying him.

He spends his days training, eating, and sleeping, a routine that isn’t unfamiliar to him, but his mind remains plagued by the brewing thoughts of you and Sanji.

His mind goes in cycles, starting with hopes that you two are alright. Surely you’re safe, Zoro’s mind doesn’t want to can’t think of the alternative. He wonders if Sanji has found himself on an island with enough food, cold fear nestled in his heart at the idea of the cook going without. He hopes you have extra blankets at night, his mind supplying him images of your shivering body on Drum Island, lips tinged blue.

The months gruel onward and late at night, when the world is silent and his body aches from the brutal beatings from Mihawk, Zoro imagines your soft touches, a comforting hand on his shoulder when things went wrong. He dreams of the bottle of sake he desperately wants to split between you two, talking about any and everything. He wants to see your smile.

On days where the sun blisters in the sky and Mihawk forces him to help with the farming, Zoro wonders if Sanji would be impressed. Would he give Zoro that smug grin of his, telling him to till the farm with appreciation for the food it grew? Would he be brave enough to commandeer Mihawk’s kitchen, lecturing to Zoro the entire time he cooks about how he needs to eat the right macronutrients to gain muscle. Zoro luxuriates in what-if’s and could-be’s, day in and day out.

He spends the hours of sundown to sunrise, staring at the cold grey stone ceiling of the castle pondering in a mire of his own doing. He wanted both of you but was desperate to hold onto what you and him had together, while craving every potential what-if with Sanji.

He stews in his feelings for months, unable to take himself out of his own head.

On a day where Mihawk is away on business, Zoro finds himself in the dining room, sun barely rising into the sky. Perona was nice enough to fix breakfast for the two of them but it only puts Zoro in a worse mood. His body is gripped in nostalgia, heart aching to wake up to the sound of Luffy and Chopper’s chatter in the morning, to pass by a sleep drunk Usopp and Franky grumbling out good mornings, and to make his way to the kitchen and have a plate be handed to him by the star of half his dreams. Increasingly lost in his own thoughts, he’s oblivious to Perona’s pouting.

“Ugh! You’re such a jerk!”

Perona waits a few seconds, giving the mosshead time to come to his senses and apologize but minutes tick by and she finds herself empty handed. In childish anger, her hands slam on the table.

“What the hell? Aren’t you going to thank me for breakfast??”

She is only given a wave, the gesture vaguely dismissal.

“Okay you idiot, what is it? What could possibly be so important that you forget to thank the person who saved your life?”

The question gives Zoro pause. He deliberates in his head a bit, uneasiness mashing in the pit of his stomach. To let someone know about his problems felt too vulnerable, but against his will the words of his dilemma spill out of him like an ugly fountain with fat babies on it, like the ones he saw plastered all over Water 7.

Perona regards him for a few minutes before rolling her eyes.

“You’re not very smart, are you?”

“The fuck?”

“You’re a pirate idiot. Being a pirate means you take what you want, you don’t need to share. So have both, duh. Who says you can’t have a boyfriend and a girlfriend?”

Whiplash. His brain rattles in his skull at Perona’s words. How ridiculous. This is what he gets for telling her his problems. He opens his mouth to tell her off but then the words sink into him.

Both? He could have both?

They were both strong enough to protect themselves, their bounties reflecting their skill, determined enough to pursue their own goals. They, more than anyone on the ship, knew the stakes of his dreams, not once had they ever discouraged him. Plus, the thought of the two of them tangled in a mess of naked limbs beckoning Zoro to join was a particularly tasty thought.

Perona shoots him a smug smile.

“You’re welcome~”

****

Nerves rattle through your body as you disembark from the small sailboat, steered by the kind martial arts master that found you two years ago. The elderly woman pats your hand in reassurance.

“Don’t worry dearie, I’m sure your boys are waiting for you. Now you make sure you stay safe and don’t forget to always pack a scarf.”

You give her a bright smile.

“Thank you so much, for everything. I’ve learned so much! Please make sure you tell everyone I got here alright.”

The woman matches your smile before waving you off. Excited feet don’t hesitate to quickly wander down Sabaody, taking you down semi familiar paths. You count the grove numbers in your head, excitement gripping your stomach as you finally arrive.

Grove 13.

The sight of the wooden sign of Shakky’s Rip-Off Bar shoots fresh nerves into your veins, anticipation ripe in your head. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves before you push open the door to the bar.

Your eyes skim over the empty chairs and booths, finally settling on a green clad figure at the bar. Time slows and your heart threatens to burst out of your sternum, you can feel your pulse in your ear, not even hearing his name tumble out of your lips. The sight of him makes tears sting the corners of your eyes.

Zoro.

His signature three swords are still affixed to his side, hilts glinting in the low light of the establishment. A head turn makes the three golden strands of his earrings collide into each other. He stands tall and proud, two years of effort reflected in his new silhouette. You run to him, finding half of everything you had missed in the last two years in his hug. Tears run down your cheeks, absorbed by the green of his outfit, staining the fabric dark. You can’t bring yourself to care.

He still smells like steel and sea salt.

He presses a kiss to your hair, his large hands rubbing circles on your back as he pulls you closer to his chest. After seconds that feel too short, you part from him. You soak in the sight of his familiar features. Your eyes trace over the new scar over his eye, the strong line of his jaw, the slight bump in his nose. Hands wander up his biceps and you can’t help but ghost your fingertips over the newly acquired scars present on exposed skin. Fingers smooth over every part of him, his wide chest, his corded arms, all of it – desperate to memorize him after these years apart.

Lost in the moment, you miss the way Rayleigh and Shakky sharing a knowing smile.

Fingers interlaced, you let Zoro lead you to his room at a small bed and breakfast in Grove 17. You aren’t even mad when he gets lost twice, taking you down a winding path to Grove 7 instead. You missed this, the idiosyncrasies that come with living with someone, spending every waking hour together.

Once in the room you let your small bucket bag tumble to the floor. You wait patiently until Zoro has a chance to take off his katanas before you throw yourself into his arms again, the two of you tumbling into the small bed. His entire presence offers you a familiar comfort. He felt like home. You can tell he feels the same, the way he holds you tightly, as if you would disappear from his arms at any moment. He buries his nose into your hair and his chest moves from under you as he inhales. The two of you stay like that for several minutes, the silence finally being broken by Zoro.

“Y/n, I don’t want to be without you.”

Shivers shoot down your spine.

“What about Sanji?”

“Him too. We’re pirates y/n, we take what we want.”

You bury your face deeper into his muscular chest, heart fluttering in your own chest.

“Good, I don’t know what I’d do without my two boy toys.”, your words come out muffled and you can feel the vibrations as Zoro chuckles.

Lifting your head, you give him a lascivious grin. His eyes are as intense as ever, but you find that this time around you can pin down the emotions within because they’re the same as yours.

Your lips meet his in a kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to accept. His lips are warm and chapped, a combination you quickly find yourself addicted to. Your arms move on their own, snaking around his neck as his wrap around your waist, bringing you in closer to him. The both of you move feverishly, desperate to make sure this moment didn’t evaporate into the ether. His kiss is hungry, ferocity over taking you before he seems to rein it back in. He coaxes out a whimper from you as his hands wander to your bottom before pulling your hips in close to his, letting you straddle his waist. You let out a gasp as you feel his hardness grinding on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. Utilizing the last braincell that isn’t drenched in hormones, you place a placating hand on his chest.

“Patience. Not without Sanji.”

To your surprise he is in agreeance with you, but he gives you a devilish grin all the same.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t get to kiss what’s mine.”

Laughter peels out of you, as Zoro smashes his lips into the crook of your neck, biting and sucking the sensitive flesh in a manner that was both ticklish and sensual.

“You’re right, it doesn’t.”

****

Sanji doesn’t know what to think. Reality was, he saw this was coming, the signs glaring at him two years ago.

You and Zoro were together.

The whole crew seemed to know it too.

“Yohohoho! They’re quite a handsome couple, don’t you agree Miss. Robin?”

“They do complement each other quite well.”

Everyone has seen the two of you look at each other, shooting puppy eyes at the dinner table, and of course Sanji is distinctly aware of the way Zoro takes your small hands into his, a rogue thumb tracing idle circles into your smooth skin. It’s all too intimate for two people who are “just crewmates”.

Sanji’s heart is broken, shattered into a million tiny pieces and he doesn’t know where to begin to put it all back together. He was an utter fool for having clung onto hope for two years, spending his days daydreaming about how the pieces would all fall into place, the two of you accepting his confessions of undying love.

Stupid, stupid Sanji.

The voices of his past mock him. How could anyone love stupid Sanji. How silly of you to even dream. Nestled in the sicker part of his brain, he wonders who he’s more jealous of – you or Zoro.

It should be him, his jealousy addled self whispers to him in the dead of night but Sanji knows it’s his fault for even daring to dream. The two of you were better off together. So, every day, he wakes up, chokes down the feelings that threaten to well up inside of him, and continue as if nothing was wrong.

He had been doing it well enough for the last twenty odd years, what’s the harm in a few more?

****

It doesn’t take long for an opportunity to present itself to you and Zoro.

The Sunny docks on a small island to restock on basic supplies and through divine intervention the stars align. Zoro catches the last vestiges of Sanji’s conversation with Nami, picking up the tidbit that he would come back to the ship immediately after he procured fresh meat and produce. Taking his chance, he offers himself and you up for guard duty, a move that garners no protest or suspicion.

After the crew clears out, the anxiety builds in your chest, your head spins and your palms feel clammy as the minutes pass by. Zoro doesn’t say it, but you could tell he felt the same, his rough fingers constantly flitting over the hilt of his katanas. You and Zoro split a bottle of sake for liquid courage, downing it like teenagers instead of passing it along at your usual leisurely pace. The sake helps a bit, dulling down the feelings.

The two of you are on the upper deck when you hear the click of expensive dress shoes on wood. Peeking, you spy Sanji’s golden hair as he reboards the ship. You signal Zoro with a nod of your head. The two of you break, Zoro to the kitchen to fetch Sanji and you to the women’s dormitory. Long strides quickly lead you to where you need to be, settling down on the blue comforter of your bed.

In the midst of fiddling with a loose thread on one of your sheets, you hear the door open. Nerves tingle through your body as you see Sanji’s figure enter.

“A-ah y/n-swan! Marimo said you needed help with something?”

He takes a few strides, standing at the foot of the bed you were sitting on. The door clicks as Zoro shuts it behind him. Sanji sucks in a breath, suddenly feeling trapped in this confined space, anxiety pooling in his stomach.

“O-oh! Well Sanji you see… Um, w-well we..”

You bite your lips, fingers picking at the skin near your nails, something Sanji picks up on. He can’t help the prickling of curiosity in the back of his brain. What got you, the very definition of calm and collected, so nervous?

“We want you, Sanji.”

It’s Zoro this time, the timber of his voice nearly reverberating in his bones as he becomes aware of how close the man stands behind him. You nod in agreeance.

Sanji’s brain short-circuits.

What?

Did he hear that right? You both wanted him?

Sanji searches your face for any inkling of deception but your cheeks are flush and you avoid his eyes out of nervousness.

“Don’t over think this.” Zoro murmurs into his ear, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin. The other man’s large hands come from behind him and roam on his chest, going over the silky fabric of his suit. The action pulls him in closer to Zoro, sending shivers up his spine. It doesn’t take long for Sanji to make up his mind.

So be it.

He’ll take whatever scraps you have to offer him. Maybe if he gets a taste, it’ll be out of his system, and he’ll be free to pursue all the beautiful men and women he encounters in his travels. Maybe if he closes his eyes, he can imagine that this is something more than just sex.

He continues to feed himself the shallow lies.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

At his affirmation, Sanji feels hand on his head, turning him into a hungry kiss. Chapped lips meet his and Sanji can faintly taste the sweetness of sake on Zoro’s breath. It’s everything Sanji has dreamed of. In the midst of their kiss, Sanji feels your hands undoing his tie, and unbuttoning his jacket and dress shirt. An impatient tongue spears into his mouth, coaxing his own tongue into a dance, drawing a moan from the blond man. A hot tongue presses into his neck and he can’t help the gasp that rises to his lips. In contrast to Zoro, your lips are soft and silky. You stamp fire into his skin with every kiss, setting his body into flames.

Breathless, he breaks the kiss with Zoro only to have you pull him into another one, gentler but no less voracious.

He’s aware of Zoro helping him shed his shirt and jacket, but his head feels stuffed with cotton, not quite to registering any of it. A soft tongue mingles with Sanji’s and delicate hands caress the bare skin of his chest, each movement leaving gooseflesh in its wake. The light flicks to his nipples have him groaning into your mouth. The kiss breaks with a soft sigh from you, and Zoro surges forward to capture you a playful kiss, sandwiching Sanji between the two of you. The friction of the two bodies, one soft and one sturdy, melts his mind, his pants feeling tighter by the moment.

A larger rougher set of hands replace the soft ones on his chest as you kneel in front of Sanji, making quick work of his belt. You lavish his abs with floaty kisses and occasional playful nibbles, following down the trail of soft downy hair until you reach his boxers. You make quick work of that too, freeing his erection.

You nearly drool of the sight Sanji’s cock slapping against his belly, marking a spot on his belly with shiny precum. His cock is picturesque, like the men of the dirty magazines you used to buy as a teenager, a few shades darker than his porcelain skin leading into a dusky pink tip oozing slick. You give an experimental lick up the shaft before engulfing the tip in your mouth, making circles over it with your tongue. Sanji throws his head back, gracing you with a breathy pretty groan.

The salty taste of his precum ignites a fire deep in you, a need to taste more overcomes every sense. Driven by your baser instincts, you press down further, taking as much as you could until you feel him hit the back of your throat, eyes welling with tears as you try to stave off your gag reflex. His delicate fingers tangle into your hair, hands resting on your head. Pressed so close to Sanji his pubic hair tickles your lips and you can smell the clean rich sandalwood of his soap. You set a slow pace, looking up through dark lashes to observe Sanji’s expressions as he loses himself in the feeling of your mouth. Each circle of your tongue over the tip has him whimpering, his cheeks and chest flushed pink.

Not to be left out, Zoro joins you, kneeling in front of the blond man. You release his cock with a pop and stroke it lightly.

“Want a taste?”

Zoro gives a devilish smirk, coming in closer. He gives the tip kitten licks before slowly taking more of the length in his mouth.

“Tastes good doesn’t it?”

A muffled response has you grinning. You take a few moments take your own clothes off, only stopping to appreciate the sight of Zoro pouring his attention to Sanji’s cock. The contrast of the two men bubbles excitement in you, a longing finally quenched. Zoro is all muscle, posture and stance reflecting power and brutality, but Sanji’s is refined elegance, fluid even while motionless, muscles seemingly sculpted by a maestro.

Kneeling back down, you throw yourself into the fray of saliva and skin, taking one of Sanji’s balls into your mouth, earning a loud groan from the man. The two males’ intermingling musk cloying in your head, fogging up any thought you could muster. Sanji’s hips buck and Zoro gags, pulling another moan from the blond. You slowly suckle, running circles on the surface of his ball sack with your tongue before releasing it to lick up the shaft. Zoro meets you in a messy kiss with Sanji’s cock in the middle of two pairs of lips. Your tongues dance over the veiny surface of Sanji’s dick, occasionally skimming each other.

Sanji wants to throw his head back, to lose himself in the sensation of two mouths lavishing him with attention but he’s caught up in the sight of you and Zoro, your tongues fighting on his cock, hoping to find more skin to lick and suck at. The two of you work in synch, soon moving upward to suckle at the reddened tip of his cock.

“S-stop or I’ll cum” Sanji whines out, making you and Zoro share a laugh, shifting away from his sensitive cock to find each other in a kiss.

Feeling emboldened by the sexually charged energy, you saunter over to the bed, sitting and spreading your legs wide open. Sanji practically drools at the sight, stumbling over the clothes on the floor to get in closer.

Sanji slots himself between your legs, moving closer to kiss you. His lips are soft, and the hints of lingering tobacco pull you in for more. Sanji’s tender affection is a deluge you drown in, heart full you reciprocate keenly. He peppers kisses down your jawline before interspersing tender open mouth kisses on your neck. A hot tongue trails down further before capturing a nipple between his teeth. His actions are delicate, but they draw whimpers out of you, heat pooling between your thighs at the teasing. Sanji’s strong hands cup your breasts, massaging softly as his tongue runs circles around your hard nipples, dousing them in messy suckles.

He offers the same treatment to your other breast before trailing more kisses down until his head is settled between your thighs. You can feel his hot breath, a gossamer on your sensitive skin. The flat of his tongue licks a stripe through your folds and your back arches at the contact.

“Fuck angel, you’re so wet” he murmurs before diving back in, tongue working through your folds before encircling your clit.

“Mm fuck Sanji”, moans pour out of you endlessly, your hands tangling themselves in the golden silk of his hair.

His strong hands hold your hips steady as he begins to suckle at your clit, giving occasional kitten licks, as anticipated, the action has you bucking your hips, thighs tightening around his head as he tightens the coil in your loins, nerves dancing on fire.

Zoro’s calloused hands run over Sanji’s torso, earning a shiver from the man. His fingertips take time to appreciate the valley of muscles before moving to his hips, propping them up into position. Sanji is a mess of gooseflesh as rough fingers part his cheeks, exposing him to the other man. A hot tongue presses on his hole and Sanji lets out a gasp that’s muffled in your skin. The sensation is foreign as the tongue wriggles against his tight hole, but pleasure quickly finds him. Zoro’s tongue circles around his puckered hole, massaging and working the muscle, each move deliberate in driving Sanji further into a chasm of pleasure until he’s relaxed. Zoro intersperses it with licks from the flat of his tongue, the contrast drawing out whimpering moans from the blond. When he pulls away, Sanji whines.

“Get these wet for me.”

Sanji complies, taking his head out from your cunt to take Zoro’s digits in his mouth, tongue running over each individual one. Zoro grins at the sight of Sanji desperately sucking on his fingers while his goatee shines with your slick.

A whine from you has Zoro withdrawing his fingers from the other man’s hot mouth, allowing him to return to your needy hole.

Sanji returns to lavishing your clit with licks, before plunging a tongue deep in you hoping to taste more of your essence. Pressure against his puckered hole pauses him in the middle of his pussy eating. Your thighs tighten around him as you buck desperately against his mouth, hoping to find more friction despite his lack of action.

The breech of a large finger pulls a sound out of him, a mixture of a moan and a scream. You offer your own moan at the vibrations of Sanji’s on your clit.

Zoro presses kisses onto the skin of his buttocks, rubbing soothing circles on his skin as Sanji adjusts to the foreign intrusion. Slowly, he begins to rock his finger back and forth, occasionally stopping to spit on Sanji’s hole, an action that has the man’s dick twitching.

“Don’t worry Sanji he’ll be gentle. Won’t you marimo?” you tease, tone breathy from your own arousal at seeing Zoro knuckle deep in Sanji.

“We’ll see about that.”

Sanji turns to tell Zoro off, but the aforementioned man’s free hand grabs his head, shoving him back into your cunt, earning a squeal from you.

“Focus Sanji” Zoro gravels out, voice thick with lust. You snake your legs around Sanji’s head, heels resting on his mid back.

“He’s right Sanji, wanna cum so bad”

As if to demonstrate your need, your hips buck into his open mouth, hoping to find a tongue to grind into. Ever the gentleman, Sanji grants your request, eating you out with renewed vigor.

Zoro continues to work his fingers into him, one finger becomes two, pumping becomes scissoring, and soon Sanji feels more stretched out than possible. Sanji lets out loud moan after moan into your clit when he feels the man continuously brush his prostate. His mouth is messy with saliva and your slick, jaw aching as he continues to devour you. You reward him with looks from dark lashes glimmering with tears, your soft skin flushed by his ministrations. Pretty whines of his name spill out from your lips, urging him on as you chase your high. Your fingers clench onto his hair, the pain from the pulling mixing with the shockwaves that Zoro’s fingers provide him.

“A-ah right there S-sanji!”

Your tighten your legs around Sanji, a loud wail escaping you, hands fisting the blankets underneath as the coil in your belly snaps. Your orgasm wracks your body, vision going dark and heartbeat in your ear. Sanji’s tongue doesn’t stop, sending pins and needles through your nerves. Tears dot the corners of your eyes as he eats your overstimulated pussy out until you’re crying his name, begging him to stop. When he relents, you pull him into a kiss, tasting your own salty juices on his lips. You swipe your fingers over his messy slick shined lips and chin, offering them to Zoro who sucks on them with enthusiasm before letting go with a pop of his mouth.

You shimmy out from under Sanji, the blond pushing himself to all fours to offer you more space. Moving off to the side, you take in the sight of Zoro greedily pumping three fingers into Sanji who’s offering himself up like a dog in heat, whimpers pouring out of his mouth. Sanji’s dick is standing tall, precum dribbling out from the tip and onto the bedsheets where you can already spy a dark wet stain forming. You wrap a hand around his cock, thumb smearing the precum as you begin to pump up and down at a torturous pace. Sanji’s head buries into the bed as he lets out a string of expletives. You and Zoro share a naughty grin.

It doesn’t take long for Sanji to start moving his hips, desperately fucking himself into Zoro’s fingers trying to plunge deeper.

Zoro pulls out of him, and you take your hand off of his cock, Sanji is left whining at the loss of contact.

He isn’t left alone for long as Zoro pushes him into the bed before flipping him around so he’s on his back. Zoro devours the sight of Sanji’s hair pooling around him in a radiant halo, his cheeks flushed pink and dick twitching for attention. You come back and pass Zoro a bottle, lowering yourself to take the man’s dick in your mouth. Sanji’s eyes are glued to the sight of you bobbing your head along the impressive length of the swordsman. He watches as Zoro’s eye closes, clearly enjoying the way you’re taking all of him in. It isn’t long before the swordsman pulls you up and into a kiss.

Jealousy grips Sanji’s heart. Brook was right, the two of you were a beautiful couple.

You take the bottle from Zoro and pour out a viscous liquid onto your fingers, soaking them in it before wrapping it around Zoro’s cock, wetting him with long strokes.

“Fuc-k babe that feels good”

You offer Zoro one final kiss, a mischievous hand coming to smack the swordsman’s bottom sending him on his way to Sanji.

Zoro slots himself between Sanji’s legs, wrapping his hands around his ankles before yanking him, moving him closer to the edge of the bed. For the first time Sanji’s cock presses into Zoro’s and it twitches in excitement, the blond shudders at the contact. Zoro captures his lips into a kiss and Sanji loses himself in it. Sea salt and steel invade his senses, wiping his mind blank of every thought. Rough hands find their way to his slender hips, rubbing circles along the bone. Slim smaller fingers press against his hole, taking time to slather him in the same viscous liquid.

When Zoro breaks the kiss, Sanji opens his eyes, taking in the sight of the swordsman on top of him.

“You ready?”

He isn’t, but Sanji nods.

The blunt tip of Zoro’s cock on his hole startles him, and for the first time he begins to wonder how in the fuck he’s supposed to take all of it inside of him.

Then the push comes, a groan is ripped from his chest as Zoro breaches his tight hole for the first time. Sanji feels panic well inside of him. He’s going to be torn in two, there’s no doubt about it. The blond squirms in discomfort, and you’re quick to notice, kissing his tears away, interlacing your fingers with his.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby. You’re doing so good, such a good boy for us”

Zoro takes it at Sanji’s pace, allowing the blond to adjust to the stretch. One hand steadies his hip and the other strokes his calf, bringing it closer so the green haired man can press kisses into the pale skin.

Through the pain and panic, Sanji finds himself delusional. With his eyes closed and brain shut off, he imagines this is what it would be like to be loved by the both of you, drowning him in sweet nothings, soft kisses, and praises of what a good boy he is.

It takes a deliberate amount of self-control for Zoro to inch in slowly, the sight of Sanji’s greedy hole swallowing his shaft has anticipation pumping through his veins. He finds himself resisting the urge to pin the blond down and ravage him right there, to stretch his hole out so fully that it molds itself to the shape of Zoro’s cock and his alone. It isn’t long before he finds himself full sheathed, Sanji clenching around his dick, sending mind numbing pleasure into Zoro.

He holds him there, offering more time to adjust as he holds the blond’s hips steady. Letting go of Sanji’s hand, you happily move into the mix of bodies, sitting on top of Sanji, a hand guiding his length into you. As the tip of his dick enters you, Sanji throws his head back, wailing into his fist as he tries to quiet himself. Slowly, you sink into his length, engulfing him with tight searing heat. You’re tighter than he expected. You lean back, pressing your back into Zoro’s muscle bound chest as you turn to give him a kiss. He moans into your mouth as your tongues meld into each other.

In need of friction, you start a slow pace, moving up and down on Sanji’s length.

“F-fuck, oh my fucking g-god, feels ‘sgood” Sanji slurs out, tongue lolling and mind blank.

Zoro pulls from your kiss to start pumping into Sanji, ever impatient he fucks the blond with aggression. Unabashedly, the swordsman lets out a groan at the feeling, Sanji gripping his cock like a vise.

“Yer so fucking tight for me babe”

The blond isn’t shy about making noises, screams and moans mixing together as they leave his mouth. Zoro’s finger’s dig into the man’s hips to gain more purchase as he thrusts particularly deep, punching the air out of Sanji’s lungs, his legs spasming as Zoro jabs into his prostate. His body seizes, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he babbles out nonsense.

Sanji can’t think, he can barely breath with Zoro’s cock bullying him out of air only for your tight pussy to greedily clench, only allowing him short gasps of breath. He loses himself entirely in the feeling of being thoroughly used by the two of you, drool leaking out of the side of his mouth as eyes stare unfocused.

Sanji’s dick curves and hits the most sensitive parts of you, brushing along your g-spot as you bounce up and down on him, desperately chasing your own high.

“S-sanji, your cock f-feels so good baby”

Your words begin to slur as you feel the beginnings of an orgasm gather in your loins.

Sanji is the first to cum, letting out a loud wail as he bucks his hips upward, shooting his cum deep inside of you. The feeling of his warm cum flooding you makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, you keep riding him through his orgasm, oversensitive cock still hard as you grind down on it, losing yourself in the pleasure of his spongy dick tip grinding into your cervix. Zoro’s hand snakes around your hips, fingers pinching and rolling your clit, sending fireworks of pleasure into your spine, you hold onto Sanji, nails digging deep. Zoro’s thrusts get deeper, rocking you and Sanji. His breathing is choppy, moans spilling out of his lips as Zoro chases his own high.

Fireworks burst behind your eyelids as you feel the orgasm wrack your body, tears gathering in your eyes as your moan stutters in your throat. Sanji whimpers as your pussy milks his oversensitive cock for more cum. Zoro’s arm wraps around your waist and the other on Sanji’s thigh as he pulls both of you closer, the coil buried deep in his belly threatening to snap. He picks up the pace, relentlessly hammering inside of Sanji, the movement causing Sanji’s dick to rub the sensitive tissue of your cervix, gushing out the cum deep inside of you. The tight friction of Sanji’s hole is delicious as Zoro gives the last few pumps before burying himself as deep as possible in the blond, head resting on the crook of your neck as he came. His loud groan is muffled in your skin, stars shoot across his vision as he paints Sanji’s walls white, belly clenching as he slowly rocks the last vestiges of his orgasm out.

The three of you fall on the bed in a mess of limbs, sweat, and body fluids. You’re out of it until you feel an arm wrapping around you, hazily recognizing it as Zoro’s, bringing you and Sanji closer to him. You press yourself into his side, craving the comfort of his embrace. Your head rests on his wide chest listening to the pounding heartbeat as he presses a kiss into your sweaty hairline.

Zoro’s heart feels full as he watches his two lovers, fully sated and thoroughly fucked, resting in his arms, the trust they put in him is implicit.

The peace is broken when Sanji breaks out of the embrace, getting out of the bed picking up pieces of various strewn about clothing. The action startles you and Zoro out of your post orgasm glow, the two of you sharing a confused look.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

Zoro’s voice cuts through Sanji’s soul. Steeling himself, he looks up at the two of you, still wrapped around each other, clearly comfortable - a comfort Sanji can’t indulge in lest he lose more of his heart.

“Ah. Well, I figured you guys had your fun, right?” he weakly chuckles.

The silence is deafening.

“No need for me to linger while you tw-“

“Sanji when we said we wanted you we meant all of you. You mean more to us than just sex, we adore you.”

His body tenses in surprise, the shock written all over his face.

Zoro leans forward, grabbing Sanji’s hand to pull him back into the mess of limbs.

“C’mere and cuddle us Sanji.”

Sanji sinks into the cuddle, hungry heart full for the first time in a long time.

#fanfic #one piece #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader x sanji

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sixosix · 10 months

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GENSHIN IMPACT.

# XIAO

( 1 ) something happens

drabble / 1.7k words. verr goldet and huai'an playing matchmaker, basically

( 2 ) wasted time

drabble / 500 words. talks a lot x listens trope, but with xiao

# WANDERER / SCARAMOUCHE

( 1 ) patching you up

drabble / wc 500. you're injured, and wanderer is there to help—not of course without a bit of snark here and there.

( 2 ) flustered

drabble / wc 600. wanderer proves that he can fluster you.

( 3 ) clingy

drabble / wc 1k. scara shows his true colors when he’s missing you.

( 4 ) softie

drabble / wc 800. scara does, in fact, have a soft spot for animals.

( 5 ) he can fly; you cannot

drabble / wc 700. he makes it his problem.

( 6 ) and his voice is a familiar sound

longfic / wc 5k. forced proximity + childhood friends reuniting.

( 7 ) happy birthday, wanderer!

drabble inspired by wanderer’s 2024 bday mail

( 8 ) pda w/ wanderer

drabble about him and public display of affection

# SHIKANOIN HEIZOU

( 1 ) i drive down different roads | part two

fic / wc 4k. you met a detective once on an unexpected night; fate decides that it won’t be the last time.

“you look so pretty,” the stranger with twin moles murmurs, “like it’d be a crime not to want you.”

# LYNEY

( 1 ) distractions

drabble / wc 600. roommate!lyney annoying you who just want to finish your essay. you fail miserably.

( 2 ) sleight of hand

longfic / wc 8k. local sumeru architect goes to fontaine looking for inspiration and comes out of it with three rainbow roses and a crushing magician.

you will not let lyney get to you. unfortunately, lyney already got to you the moment you met eyes. after all, what is a magician if not an expert in stealing hearts?

( 3 ) kissing him awake

drabble / wc 600. kissing lyney awake doesn't really work.

( 4 ) teapot voicelines

drabble / wc 1.5k. lyney’s teapot voicelines turned fic

( 5 ) overwhelmed

drabble / wc 500. a huge party + reader who is sensitive to the environment + lyney being a sweetheart

( 6 ) sickfic

fic / wc 3k. you take it upon yourself to make it up to lyney when he couldn’t perform on the night he looked forward to the most—and lyney falls a little harder.

( 7 ) kisses

drabble / wc 500. sleepy lyney + kisses all over his face.

( 8 ) sucker

drabble / wc 700. it was not your intention to seduce lyney, really, he was just already so very weak for you.

( 9 ) lovesick and desperate

drabble / wc 900. lyney can't stop staring at your lips.

( 10 ) plastic flowers

fic / wc 1.8k. the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader.

# AETHER

( 1 ) jealous

fic / wc 1.5k. aether has been traveling with you long enough for his bottled up feelings to overflow one day. lyney pushes that day closer.

( 2 ) infatuated

drabble / wc 1.5k. mutual pining but aether is a tease and you're an idiot.

( 3 ) accidental

drabble / wc 500. you accidentally kiss him on the lips.

( 4 ) hitting on you

drabble / wc 700. aether (one of the) main character(s) in hit game genshin impact hits on you.

( 5 ) stay, too

fic / wc 2.8k. you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him.

( 6 ) i want you for worse or for better

fic / 2.8k. your ex, aether, invites you to be his plus one at a wedding; you were doomed from the very beginning.

# KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

( 1 ) can i go where you go?

fic / 2.2k words. three times kazuha keeps kissing you on 'accident'

# KAVEH

( 1 ) it was all by design | part two

longfic / wc 10k. when soulmates are given a second chance.

he kisses you square on the mouth, the blueprint of the palace of alcazarzaray hidden beneath his palms, and he thinks he’s never been happier.

# ALHAITHAM

( 1 ) officially swept off your feet

drabble / wc 1.5k. in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.

# WRIOTHESLEY

( 1 ) one look (meant just for you)

drabble / 700 words. wriothesley visits your home.

#i cant believe i have a genshin masterlist #606:GENSHIN

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jiminiereads · 10 months

Text

fic recs: bts ii

disclaimer: some fics contain mature content, so minors DNI!!!!

jin

on the ropes @raplinesmoon a | s - wc: 18k

ex-boxer!jin, lawyer!reader, infidelity!au

stay with me @bts-trash-blog f

long-distance relationship, established relationship

give me love @taleasnewastime s | f - wc: 6.1k

established relationship!, pwp

night drive @minimonojoon f - wc: 3k

best friends to lovers!au, groomsmen!jin x bridesmaid!reader

i’m all yours @sailoryooons f - wc: 2.3k

best friends to lovers!au, idiots to lovers!au, so so soft!!

yoongi

speak now @vminity21 a | s - wc: 2.4k

friends to lovers!au, bride-to-be!reader

almost @bluewhale52 f - wc: 1.9k

established relationship!au, idol!au, wife!oc

like flowers we bloom @cupofteaguk f - wc: 5k

bad boy!au

no rebounds (series) @joheunsaram a | f | s - wc: 16k

marriage!au

hobi

the ick @taleasnewastime f - wc. 6k

friends to lovers!au

namjoon

first christmas @spideyjimin f - wc: 2.2k

established relationship!au, christmas!au, parents!au

how i love you @ahundredtimesover a | f | s - wc: 28.3k

established relationship!au, husband!namjoon

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divorce!au, exes to lovers??

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established relationship!au, slice(s) of life!au

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jimin

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serendipity (series) @sopebubbles a | f

idol!au, pregnancy!au, smau and written

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taehyung

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roommates!au, friends to lovers!au

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florist!au, strangers to lovers

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friends to lovers!au, oc tries to respect girl code

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dad!taehyung, teen parents, exes to lovers

the odds on us @jimilter a | s | slight f - wc: 15.5k

exes to lovers!au

jungkook

crush @jungxk light a | f | s - wc: 5.1k

memory loss!au, established relationship!au, dad!au

a lover’s bond @latetaektalk heavy a | f - wc: 18.7k

greek mythology! AU- specifically orpheus and eurydice! AU

marry me? @bebejungkook f - wc: 0.7k

established relationship!au, gamer!jk, crybaby!reader

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alien invasion @nocturnal-jeon f

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ceo au, forbidden romance au, established relationship au, exes to lovers

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established relationship!au, crack, jk tries to be hard dom

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strangers to lovers!au, tattoo artist!jk, shy!reader

what if i love you too much? @taleasnewastime s | f | a - wc: 20.6k

neighborhood!au, single mom!reader

busted @btsgotjams27 f | slight smut (suggestive) - wc: 0.8

husband!jk, biker!jk (enough said)

343 notes · View notes

kaesficrecarchive · 3 months

Text

[mark x donghyuck]

bedrock won't break by tooshy (1/1 | 4,394 | G)

Old furniture not fitting through new doors, personal space coming only in its downsized pocket edition, the do we keep yours or mine? argument goldmine—Donghyuck's heard all about how moving in together can tip a relationship over the edge. Not Mark and him, though. Trust him. (or, don't)

(author)

#marhyuck fic rec #markhyuck #mark x donghyuck #mark x haechan #nct dream #nct 127 #one shot #t: established relationship #wc: <10k #wc: <5k #c: kpop #rpf #to read

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superblysubpar · 1 year

Text

A/N: for @newlips #newlipsmilestoneoflove event! congratulations cece - you're truly so talented & inspiring - thanks for always working hard to bring the community together. And thank you for bringing personaltrainer!steve into my life, I hope this version of him lives up to the hype! To my lovely girls - thanks for literally holding my hand and forcing me to post this, it wouldn't have even been written without your constant encouragement & hive brain help.

I Want It, Can't Have It

personaltrainer!steve x fem!reader

Summary: Your co-worker Steve and you refuse to admit defeat in a game of who will give into their suppressed feelings for the other first. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+

WC Range: 5k-10k

Warnings: use of Y/N, Y/L/N, and too many petnames / talk of jealousy & comparison / a woman showing too much skin in the 80s?! Good heavens! / smut (unprotected piv - creampie, ass slapping and teasing, asking to cum, & public - locked bathroom door but people def know)

The smell of chlorine and lemon disinfectant, flickering fluorescents overhead and the record breaking ton of body spray wafting down the hall are making the tiny men with jackhammers inside your head work overtime today.

Hearing him before you see him, you shake out a second pain reliever - taking preventive measures for the headache that was only about to be made worse.

Whistling a top forty track, blazer’s squeaking against the tile of the hall - because he refuses to pick up his feet when he’s around you, and the thwip of a towel smacking a coworker’s ass as they banter all fall to your ears as he rounds the corner.

Steve fucking Harrington.

Unsure why, the two of you quickly agreed on one thing and one thing only upon your very first introduction: you positively hated each other and would do everything in your power to make sure the other never forgot.

Eyes trained on the staff clipboard you’re filling out for taking medicine from the first aid kit, you choose to ignore him as he grows closer. Pen scratching against the paper, your senses try to focus on writing out your full name instead of how good he smells. A hard thing to not notice when it’s compared to the hazardous waste for sweat from the teenage boys you’d been forced to endure for the better part of the last hour.

Of course, he can’t help himself and has to ruin the one thing that brings you semi enjoyment when in his presence, clearing his throat and nodding once, without even looking at you, “Jane Fonda.”

The use of one of the nicknames he refuses to let up with has your teeth grinding as you clench your jaw, “Bite me, Harrington.”

Steve spins, toned and tanned arms folded on the desk above you as he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, hazel eyes peering down at you with contempt, “Oh good, glad to see you’re in a swell mood as always.”

Shoving the clipboard back into its slot, you push back in the rolling chair, relishing in his clenched jaw when the wheel squeaks a little too loud - two can play at the causing a headache game. An exaggerated pout forming on your lips as you force a bubbly and higher tone, “Oh. I’m so sorry. Let me go curl my hair, pop on a bright pink lip, and add an extra little perky bounce to my step so you can ogle my ass in bright blue spandex.”

“Could ya?” Steve’s lips shift up into a lopsided smirk at you.

Huffing out a breath and crossing your arms, you can’t even get another jab in before his twelve o’clock bounces through the door. To neither of your surprise, she’s dressed exactly as you had just described - blonde hair piled high in a ponytail on the top of her head just like Barbie and just like you knew it would be. Watching Steve train her for the past several weeks has been nauseating to say the least. Her leg stretched up and over his shoulder, their smirks and less than subtle flirting, and her slaps and squeezes of his biceps in an eye twitch inducing sort of way.

“Hi Steve,” her voice sugar and spice and everything you’re not as she blows a bright pink bubble with her gum. You’re surprised Steve doesn’t pop it for her as he leans in close enough, one elbow still on the desk.

“Well, don’t you look cute today,” his voice deeper and full of a charm that’s very lacking from the way he talks to you.

Twelve o’clock Barbie beams and he gestures down the hallway, hand on her lower back as she brushes past him. Steve lets her trail ahead, tilting his head with a sigh as he watches her ass jiggle in all the right ways.

Scoffing at him, you chuck a rolled towel directly at the side of his head and hiss, “You’re such a fucking pervert!”

Steve spins backwards, clutching his chest and groaning through a wide grin, “I love it when you talk dirty to me babe.”

Eyes narrowing at him as he high fives one of your coworkers as he turns back around, arm wrapping over the shoulders of Barbie. Her bright and bubbly laugh trails all the way down the hall back to you, “So, did you catch the game last night?”

Steve hums, “I don’t think so…which teams were playing?”

“Oh…uh…the Cubs?”

Rolling your eyes with a snort at her question of a response.

Baseball.

It’s fucking February.

Randy, your co-worker, snickers and then looks at Dylan who rounded the corner as well, shaking his head, “Five bucks he pretends he did watch the game and does her in the locker room?”

Dylan laughs, sticking out his hand for a deal, “Ten if he gets her to tell him details of the nonexistent game too.”

The boys look at you laughing and don’t even try to hide their conversation or amusement with Steve the manwhore Harrington. You’re just one of the guys here, and something about this fact that’s never bothered you before, this interaction you’ve had many times already, is burning your blood a little more than you’d care to admit.

Their words about her perfect hair, the curve of her ass in the spandex, and the low cut of the leotard are only flashing spotlights to your exact opposite features you can see in the reflection of the glass windows. Dull and sweat matted hair shoved under a baseball hat, dark and muted tones of your joggers and sweatshirt - which now has a stain on it from lunch. Curves don’t exist, your footwear is sensible, and your skin doesn’t have that perky glisten or glow - it’s sweaty and flushed in all the wrong ways.

Yanking your whistle down from the hook, you push past the boys. You could care less about 12 o’clock Barbie and you’re happy with your life. Confident you don’t need someone like Steve Harrington in it to make you feel fulfilled because you are independent and have a clear and level head atop your shoulders. A man staring at your ass isn’t what you want, you want to be appreciated for your brains, personality, your interests - screw pretending to like baseball to get a guy to sleep with you. You want the one who knows you like it and genuinely wants to talk to you about it, baggy sweatshirt and all.

But when you hear a giggle and see Steve and 12 o’clock Barbie sneaking into the bathroom your stomach somersaults and something in you snaps, shouting down the hall, “Harrington! Nobody’s paying you to sleep with clients!”

Steve freezes, his strained muscles and vein in his neck visible even at a distance and his face reddens. He’s pissed.

But he turns with a bright and forced smile as Barbie dips into the locker room with an inflamed face as well. Steve walks down the hall towards you, arms crossed and head tilted, “What the hell is your problem?”

You have a lot of problems. Number one being you don’t understand what possessed you to do that, but you can’t tell him that, obviously. Queen of thinking on your feet though, you cross your arms and cock your head, “Wouldn’t want you to lose your job for not being able to keep your dick in your pants is all, buddy.”

He scoffs loudly, stepping closer to you until your back hits the wall, “Really? I would’ve thought you were the first person wanting me out on my ass, Mary Lou.”

Rolling your eyes at the new nickname, you try to side step and get out of there but his hand pushes to the brick over your shoulder, caging you in.

Steve towers over you, faces close together and he smirks as you squirm under his insistent gaze. Steve leans closer, “Oh, I get it,” he whispers, nose almost touching yours. He’s close enough for you to see his lashes, the gold flecks in his eyes, and the freckles that dot his nose. His breath mint and charm fanning across your cheeks as he continues, “You’re jealous.”

“As. Fucking. If,” you hiss at him, nose bumping his just barely as you lean forward and narrow your eyes.

Steve and your shallow breaths mix and amplify in your ears, everything else muffled like it’s underwater. Fingers clenched into fists at your sides, Steve’s tongue dips out to lick his bottom lip. Yours part involuntarily, his eyes glint, the mossy color deepening to a mix of dangerous forest and stormy sea and god fucking dammit, you sigh.

Someone, somewhere in the universe, slaps you in the face in the form of Barbie dipping out of the locker room and pulling both of your attention in a blur of turquoise. Steve’s arm drops and he steps back, a smile on his face again as he turns to her, “Hey babe, ready?”

He leaves with her and it isn’t until you see them disappear around the corner and you count to five that your muscles start to unfurl, fingers uncurling from where they had been pressing crescent moons into your palms.

Your head falls back against the brick, “Shit.”

Snapping the palette closed, you stare at the contents littering the counter of your bathroom, untypical for a weekday.

No. You will not wear eyeshadow to your job at a gym.

With time to reflect on what happened with Steve on Friday, you’d only stewed and steamed more about Barbie. Steve calling you jealous? Of what? Her perfect hair and skin and body and that she was the one who got his eyes to linger?

Please.

Steve just loves that you’re not drooling and falling over yourself for him - a challenge, a toy he can’t have. You’ve worked with him and the boys long enough and they’re all the same. They love having a pretty thing wrapped around their arm, a token to remind them they’re a winner, because it’s all just a game. They live for the rush of the chase and the high of someone screaming their name like a stadium full of fans. And you know without a doubt, Steve calling you jealous and the incident on Friday was his tip of the ball to his side of the court. He wants you to beg for it. And you’re not going to do that, because you know that it’s actually Steve who wants you.

Smirking, you pull out an outfit you’ve yet to wear to work, a little giddy from the plan that’s slowly formulating. Steve isn’t the only one who knows a thing or two about playing games, and it’s time to show him who he’s up against.

As typical with Steve, he shows up after you to work that day. He’s always balancing a gym bag on his shoulder, jacket slung across only one arm like he couldn’t bother to finish putting it on, hair in disarray (spending the first half hour of his shift fixing it in the bathroom) and a bagel hanging between his lips, dropping sesame seeds across the floor.

Normally, Steve won’t even blink twice in your direction upon arrival. If he does, it’s only because you’ve gotten in his way, demanded he pick up the bagel crumbs, or you’ve done something else in the minute you’ve been in each other’s presence to annoy one another. Enough for him to remove the bagel and actually banter with you verbally instead of a grunt.

Today though, his blazers squeak to a sharp stop and much to your delight, the bagel falls out of his mouth and hits the floor, egg sliding out and splatting and echoing in the quiet entryway.

Grabbing your whistle and heading towards the gym for the morning meeting, you brush past him, looking over your shoulder as you call, “You better clean that up!”

A smirk still sits on your lips as you enter the gym and the conversation of all of the boys stops. Rolling your eyes at their lack of subtlety in analyzing your new look, you take your normal seat and start peeling a banana. Clearing your throat loudly, before small conversations pick up again.

“You look nice today, Y/N,” Dylan, who’s sitting next to you mumbles. He picks at a loose thread of his joggers, eyes flitting up to yours and back down to his pants.

Really, your outfit is not that crazy. It’s still in your color palette of cooler tones, you’re not even wearing spandex for crying out loud. A little bit of midriff showing has these boys blushing more than they ever have around you, and it’s hard to hide your amusement at how easily your plan is being implemented without barely lifting a finger.

Humming, you blink up at him innocently, “Thank you Dylan.”

He coughs into his fist, “Ye-yeah. Did you…did you do something different with your hair?”

Tilting your head at him, you time your laugh perfectly to Steve walking in, “No, nothing different with my hair…”

Dylan watches you, eyes eager on your mouth as you lift the banana up to your lips. Slowly taking a bite, you keep eye contact with him. Fluttering your eyelashes and humming around the fruit, his mouth falls open a little and it takes everything in you not to snort. Especially when a hand makes contact with the back of Dylan’s head and Steve’s bored tone falls directly behind you, “Are you twelve?”

Dylan’s cheeks turn pink and he turns sharply to the front of the room and you nudge his knee with yours, reassuring him it’s okay, before turning to face forward too. A small smile sitting on his lips and you relish in Steve’s sigh behind you.

Unfortunately, Steve seems to realize what you’re doing far sooner than you anticipated.

As your boss begins the meeting, hot breath fans across your neck, his voice low and barely audible even with his lips just brushing your ear, “Nice try.”

Your body betrays you and a chill runs down your spine, causing a shiver despite the embarrassed and irritated heat trying to reach every corner of your skin. You know if you turn around you’ll be face to face with a smug look and crossed muscular arms, so you don’t put yourself through the misery.

Steve is better at this, you hate to say it, but it just means you have to think of new ideas for your playbook.

Your clothes only get tighter and expose more skin each day. You’re playing dirty: leaning over him to grab a clipboard so your chest brushes against his arm, bending down to tie your shoe right in front of him, and at one point you tugged on the whistle around Dylan’s neck right in front of him before swaying your hips as you left him standing there shaking his head. But Steve barely broke, a tough competitor with a good defense and even better offense. Steve’s hand found your lower back in passing, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek, and his flirting with Barbie and other clients only got more obvious which you didn’t think was possible.

A week of going head to head with Steve in these little games all to prove that you weren’t jealous and it was him that wanted you. But, he was still determined it was the other way around, waiting for you to beg, to wave the white flag and just let him win. Today was your final straw, pulling out all of the stops - black spandex biker shorts and a black sports bra with, much as you hated to do it, a face full of makeup and hair styled.

When you arrive at work on Friday, you have to actively focus on keeping your composure around Steve because it seemed he was taking a final stand in this war as well - black baseball hat, shirtless while playing basketball, his shorts slung low on his hips.

You hate him.

Friday’s were slow though, thankfully, and had Steve and you basically switching jobs, you with clients and him in the gym - away from each other for most of the day. Or at least, you should be away from one another for most of the day.

Filling out a form while leaning against the counter, Steve’s voice draws your attention, “Hey, Muscles.”

A smile twitches on your lips and you look up to see him pulling a gray shirt on as he approaches, eyes lingering on the lines of his stomach, the trail of hair leading to a black elastic band peeking out of his shorts.

Turning your body towards him, you relish in his own lingering gaze over you as you tilt your head, “Muscles? That’s a new one. And, dare I say, a compliment?”

Steve leans against the counter, squeezing water from his bottle into his mouth, some dribbling out, and you hate that you want to lick the small bead of water directly off of his skin. He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant and turns his hat backwards before facing the counter. Drumming his fingers against it aimlessly, he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and sighs before admitting, “Well, you have been showing them off a bit more this week.”

Rising onto your toes, you drop the pen on the other side of the desk and risk a glance back at him. But he’s too busy staring down at your ass and you whisper, “Seen anything else you’ve liked this week?”

Steve’s eyes dart up to yours quickly, licking his lips as his hands land on top of his hat, his arms flexing as he breathes out a quiet laugh that ends in a groan, “Fuck.”

A smile worthy of a championship victory fills your face and he rolls his eyes. Before either of you can say anything, the voice of your boss hollers loudly across the room, “Y/L/N!”

“Yes sir?” turning to face him, you stand up a little straighter at his tone and quickly forming scowl.

He sighs as he approaches and glances at Steve who attempts to keep himself busy with a clipboard a few steps away. Your boss is nice, stuck in that sort of manly man kind of world and opinions, but nice nonetheless. You do good work and you’ve never had this sort of look opposite of you. He rubs his temples and he sighs, “I need you to find a change of clothes.”

Snorting before you realize he’s serious, he crosses his arms and you match him, your mouth dropping open as you ask, “Are you serious? Why?”

“Listen, just, this is a professional work environment and you’re showing a lot of skin and I need you to-”

Holding your hand up, you interrupt him, “That is absolutely ridiculous. No.”

He groans and grabs a stack of clipboards, “Don’t get upset, please. You’re a good worker and I don’t want to write you up but-”

Your laughter is loud and you throw an arm out to Steve who’s failing to pretend he’s not listening, “So Harrington can basically have his dick in a client, but I can’t show my shoulders and stomach?”

“Y/L/N! Enough! Get a sweatshirt. This is your only warning.” He walks away with the clipboards and you’re left seething, kicking the counter with a grunt.

Forgetting that Steve was even there to witness all of that, you’re reminded when a piece of fabric brushes your shoulder. Eyes snapping to his, you glare at him, yanking it from his outstretched hand and stalking away before he can give you any sort of pity.

Fingers brushing under your lashes, you refuse to cry about any of it, screw this place, screw your boss and screw Steve. It’s his fault you changed how you looked. It’s his fault your boss doesn’t take you seriously now. It’s Steve’s fault that you let a “victory” over something so stupid and juvenile cloud you from your work and your values. You changed your clothes, your appearance, and your attitude, and for what? To prove Steve likes a different version of you? Does it even feel good knowing you got his attention?

Pulling the sweatshirt on, you hate that you recognize that it’s his from the smell filling your senses. Hands shove themselves inside the pockets and they brush against a piece of paper. A folded sheet from a notebook with your initial on the front, you pull it open to see ‘Meet me. Bathroom. -Steve’.

Scoffing, you shove it back in the pocket and storm off towards the staff bathroom. He’s so full of himself, probably expecting to swoop in and comfort you and still score. You slam the door open and he jumps, grabbing at his chest before resting his hands on his knees.

“Jesus Christ, could kill a guy with an entrance like that.”

Closing the door and leaning against it, you cross your arms and hiss, “What do you want, Harrington?”

He stands and mirrors your stance, leaning against the sink as he shrugs, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. Thanks for the sweatshirt. Anything else?” you don’t make any movements to leave despite your better judgements.

He leans his hands back on the counter, smirking, “Well, I couldn’t help but overhear you’ve been thinking about my dick.”

Pushing yourself off of the door, you snort, “Seriously? Do you really think I still want to sleep with you?”

Steve’s smirk widens, lips upturned slightly higher on one side in a signature lopsided grin, “Still?”

Your hand points at him, stopping any sort of thoughts from running away, “No. Listen. Steve, you only started to give me the time of day when I dressed differently, when I acted like those other girls and I hate to break it to you, but I am and never will be like Barbie.”

Steve takes a step closer, toes of your shoes touching and he reaches for your wrist, thumb brushing over the skin tenderly in a way you never expected from him as he shakes his head, “You’re crazy if you think I wasn’t staring at your ass before this week, Florence.”

Heart thrumming at his admission, you tilt your head at the new name, “Florence?”

Steve’s fingers brush up your forearm, gliding under his sweatshirt, “Griffith-Joyner? Flo-Jo?”

Breath hitching, you’re starting to wonder if he’s looking up these women on purpose. Thoughts of Steve researching or deciding new names to call you outside of work sends electric jolts straight to your heart. He can’t know, and you can’t let him think you’re falling for any of this and you start to pull away. His fingers are on your shoulder now and he sighs. From how his eyes are peering directly into your soul, you know he already knows that you’re hooked - line and sinker.

He pulls you closer, fingers on the back of your neck, the other hand reaching up to cradle your jaw and his nose nudges yours, “Say you want this.”

Your hands work on their own accord, pushing up his chest to around his neck, head craning to arch back, rising on your toes slightly as your lips catch his barely as you breathe out, “You first.”

His hand on your neck squeezes lightly, laughing a little into your parted lips, “Fuck, you’re so stubborn.”

Steps falling backwards, your shoes are being kicked off your feet, “Wh-what time is it?”

Steve blinks at you, barely pulling away, his body pressing you against the door now, “What?”

Your hands find his hips, fingers dipping under the elastic waistband, “I have a 2 o’clock appointment.”

Steve breathes out, bottom lip catching your top one, “Shit, yeah, I’ll be…I’ll be fast.”

Laughing, your hands push at his shorts, “Is that supposed to impress me Harring-”

“Fuck, just shut up,” he commands, mouth swallowing the end of your sentence in a kiss.

Steve’s thumb brushes against your jaw as your mouths move with each other’s quickly, like that first sip of water after hours of sweating. Steve kisses you like it’s the first and the last, somehow tender and forceful, fingers tangling in your hair while his tongue pushes against yours.

Pants shed quickly, his other hand rubs against the front of your already wet underwear and he moans into your lips. Breaking away, you finish pulling his boxers down and bite your lip as the swollen red tip of his length twitches under your touch.

Steve’s fingers tug your underwear aside, finger running up and down through your slick in a way that makes your legs buckle. His breath is shallow against your skin, foreheads touching but you can still see his smirk, “Think you can handle it, pretty girl?”

Fingers wrapping around his length, you roll your eyes and ignore the way the ‘pretty girl’ makes your stomach flutter alive with a swarm of butterflies, “Please, it’s not that big.”

Steve laughs, a little too loudly, and your other hand slaps over his mouth. His eyes sparkle above you, gold flecks that seem like your own little personal spotlights, lighting you up in a way you didn’t dare dream of.

You are fucked.

But he can’t know that, he can’t win. Because despite the way his fingers dipping into your entrance suddenly has you gasping and your eyes rolling, the way your thumb swipes over his leaking tip has the same effect on him. It’s an even playing field and you’re determined to make him sweat a little more.

Your hands move around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours, “You have five minutes to prove me wrong, Harrington, think you can handle the pressure?”

Steve’s hands find your hips and lift you, your legs wrapping around his waist like you’ve done it hundreds of times before and he looks down at them with raised eyebrows, “Have you done this before?”

“Four minutes and forty eight seconds Steven,” you catch his bottom lip and he moans.

His fingers hold your underwear aside as he rolls his hips, coating his dick in your slick with a few swipes through you, tip catching your clit before sliding back down and pushing into you forcefully and without warning. He catches your scream and gasps with his mouth, nodding against you as he slowly continues to push into you. Your fingers grip the back of his head, causing his hat to fall off, as your head smacks into the door behind you, back arching away from it. Steve’s hands on your hips hold you steady, fingers digging into the plush skin of your ass as they caress down and cup it.

Once he’s fully inside of you, and your breathing seems to slow again, he pulls his mouth away just enough to whisper, “Knew ya could handle it.”

“Four…fuck…minutes” his hips roll against yours and a moan echos across the tiles and the distinct sound of a click of the lock as his hand reaches below you.

Your body heats with embarrassment, you hadn’t even thought about locking the door and Steve knows it. Your fingers tug at the back of his head in an effort to gain control again, yanking it a little too forcefully and he growls as you hiss, “Gonna move or not?”

Steve’s hands move back to your hips after giving your ass a harsher squeeze, pulling out of you slowly, “Are you ever not bossy?”

Before you can reply he’s pushing back into you, smirking at the way your mouth falls open and no sound leaving it as he hits the deep spot inside of you quickly. He continues his slow pulls and forceful pushes, the muscles of his shoulder tensing, able to feel each twitch and move under your hands through his shirt. His fingertips bruise your hips, dragging your slick walls back and forth across his length at an agonizing pace. Your legs locked around his waist, you glance down to where your bodies connect, the sight of your slick coating the rough patch of hair at his base making your walls clench around him tighter. Steve’s breath hits your neck, squeezing your hips even harder as he gasps out against your temple.

Smirking at his weakening defenses, you hide your own insatiable desire, teasing, “Harder, Steve.”

The boy whimpers, nose pressing into the sweat slick skin of your neck as his hips pick up their pace. The sounds of your shallow breaths mix with the sharp slapping of your skin, and he groans, “Fuck-I can’t…I can’t-”

“Come on, Steve, this is the best you can do? I thought you do this all the ti-”

He’s had it with your teasing finally it seems, and he pulls out of you harshly, arm wrapping around your waist to spin you before yanking you back against his chest.

Wet lips brush your jaw from behind, arm squeezing in a warning around your stomach, “Tell me what to do again. See what happens.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you don’t trust your voice to not give away the tidal wave of arousal that’s threatening to crack the dams you have in place. A breath out through your nose before you whisper, “Don’t be mean.”

He laughs against your neck, lips dragging down and awaking a sea of goosebumps to rise across your skin. He speaks into the sweat kissed dip of your shoulder, “So, she dishes it out, but can’t take it?”

Before you can even respond, Steve’s pushing your back, chest falling to the counter in front of you as his hands find your hips. His voice is stronger, deeper, rougher as he commands, “Open.”

Your head falls forward, eyes squeezing shut at his tone, thighs sticky and pushed together tightly from the arousal that’s reached its breaking point with barely any touching and a simple word.

The swollen and wet tip of his cock presses into your ass as he squeezes your hips, “Baby, don’t make me say it again.”

Every time he’s called you a name other than an athlete has you seeing stars already, wanting to keep playing the game to see how many more you can collect. Pressing yourself against him, you arch your back as you pout, “A please would be nice.”

His hand connects with your ass, a sharp smack that echoes and stings as he mocks, “Please?”

Legs falling open easily, he slides himself through your slick, dragging and coating his tip in your arousal even more, you know you’ve lost, because he’s the one with the power now. His hand pushes between your shoulder blades, the other gripping the dough of a cheek, slapping it again as his tip bumps your swollen nerves with a precision you know is one hundred percent on purpose and stupidly accurate.

Without warning again, Steve pushes into your entrance, a cry stopped by the press of your teeth into your bottom lip as your fingers grasp for purchase on the flat surface beneath you.

Steve’s agonizing pace from earlier is gone, slamming his body against yours in a brutal and bruising speed. Your hands start to push against the counter and Steve’s hand drags down your spine, pushing on your lower back gently in contrast to his forceful command, “Don’t move.”

Walls tightening around his cock at his tone, the sounds of him pulling and pushing into your dripping center mix with the quiet bump of your knees hitting the cabinet in front of you rhythmically.

His fingers not on your back knead into the plush skin of your ass after smacking it lighter than before, but still hard enough for you to tighten around him again. He moans, huffing a long breath out of his nose, “Fuck, like being told what to do, huh?”

Hips never stopping their harsh thrusts, your breath sticks in your chest as you keep your moans stifled, threatening to bubble up and past your lips as he smacks the same spot again, the sting coating your lashes in wetness as he whispers, “I asked you a question babe.”

It’s a breath, and if you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror in front of you, you may not have even realized you admitted it, “Yes.”

Steve’s fingers trail from their soothing kneading against the red skin, to your hip, brushing down your thigh and back up. His hips roll and he picks up his pace, humming out a content sigh at your admission. His eyes lock on yours in the mirror and he smirks, “So good for me, being such a - shit,” his eyes close as you push your ass back against him, slipping him in deeper than before, fingers dragging on the cool counter. He grunts through the rest of his sentence, “You’re so mean to me, but this is what you wanted all along, yeah?”

Moaning at his question, your eyes squeeze closed, the coil inside of your stomach pulled tight, body vibrating and chasing that breaking point until you have to release. He leans forward, brushing his lips against your shoulder, hands back to your hips as he hits that deep spot inside of you repeatedly with bruising accuracy. Steve smiles against your skin, “You act all disgusted by me too, and turns out,” his lips and nose glide across your muscles, warm breath fanning across your skin and his fingers brush back up to your hips as his mouth opens more against you, trailing to your neck. His breath shoots the tightening in your stomach into overdrive and a whine falls from your parting lips as his fingers adjust on your hips, whispering, “You’re just as much of a slut as I am.”

Eyes fluttering and breath hitching at his comment, your back arches up again, but not far enough before he presses his weight against you. Pushing himself faster and to a spot that feels like you can feel him rearranging your guts and you both moan loudly, his breath hitting your neck in a way that has your fingers searching for purchase beneath them, whining louder and your knees aching to collapse.

Steve gasps harshly, sucking in a deep breath he can’t quite finish, the sound directly in your ear and before another moan can break past your lips, his hand is coming up to press over your mouth. Your eyes rolling back as he whispers against the shell of your ear, “Be good baby. Wouldn’t want anyone to get fired for not keeping their dick in their pants, right?”

Nodding your head as he slowly lets his hand go. Your sighs quiet until his other hand wraps around your waist, pressing the pads of his fingertips into your swollen button. You jolt at the stimulation he had yet to reward you with, knees losing their battle and buckling, Steve holds you up, grunting as you cry out quietly, “St-steve.”

Somehow quickening his pace, his thumbs circular motions match perfectly to the rhythm of his hips, “Quiet, come on, babe, thought you were good at following instructions.”

Whimpering as he thrusts into you harder, your body fully collapsing against the counter, cheek pressed to the cool of the stone underneath it. Steve’s swirls to your swollen nerves are the breaking point, the added weight that breaks you from pushing it any further, unable to do another rep and your lashes wet, “Steve, I’m gonna - fuck, I-”

He can feel you tightening around him, his own hips stuttering but the game isn’t over yet. His mouth drags down your neck and another shiver runs through you as he smirks into your shoulder, “A please would be nice.”

And with your own sentence thrown back at you, he’s won.

Eyes opening, you see his own watching your body swallow everything he gives it eagerly. Standing back up fully, his cheeks flushed pink, hair sweeping across his forehead. His fingers dig into your hips as his bottom lip pulls between his teeth. His head falls backwards, breath huffed out of his nose.

“Please.”

Unsure if he says it again or it’s you, both of you collapse into the feeling of releasing. His thumb continues its circling as his hips stutter un-rhythmically. Both of you gasping out for breath as your walls milk his release and your body relaxes into its own. Muscles unfurling, fingers flattening to the counter, back arching as his hand caresses down your spine in buzzing tenderness. Meeting gazes in the mirror again, his chest heaves in time with yours and your rolling eyes are met with a widening grin on his face.

A loud knock comes from the door and you both jump, your hand slapping over your mouth as Dylan’s voice calls through the closed door, “Y/N! You in there? Mr. Conners has been out in the lobby for ten minutes!”

Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand from across your mouth. He presses it down, covering it on the counter with his large one. His other squeezes your hip as he stays buried inside of you. He nips at your neck and you squeak out, “Uh-I, I’m not feeling well, can someone else do it?”

A huff on the outside of the door and Steve’s mouth starts sucking a bruise into the skin below your ear and you smirk, calling out more confidently, “I bet Steve could! He’s not doing anything today!”

Steve pinches your waist and you yelp, walls tightening around him and he moans loudly at the feeling, still sensitive from his release. Reaching up awkwardly from your still bent position, you flick the side of his head.

A louder sigh from the other side of the door and a groan, “Man, fuck you Harrington. I know you’re in there with her!”

Steve and your laughter is hard to keep quiet as Dylan kicks the door, his voice trailing off as he walks away, “You just can’t let anyone else win can you? You two deserve each other.”

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

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