#and the ad just flat out wouldn’t work on an outsider

[seilon]

say what you will about tumblr’s inside joke-based ad campaigns, but due to them being only understandable to such an insulated community rather than focusing on trying to make a profit from luring in/ pandering to new users and whatnot, they’re keeping the site comparatively safe from corporate and influencer takeover and showing pretty decently that they’re actually paying attention to their userbase, it’s culture, and it’s preferences

[my-claws-are-hard]

Well, Hello there. (18+!!)

Waking up to some morning head from your boyfriend logan 😎

an: might not be the best take it easy on me this is my first fic

tags: somnophilia, splendid cunnilingus, fingering, a dash of overstimulation, f!reader, dirty talk for SURE, no plot just smut

Wet. Warm and wet. There was a weird sensation you couldn’t pinpoint, but you felt lazy, and didn’t want to bother opening your eyes to see what it was. You were still tired from last night, so you planned on sleeping in this morning.

When that feeling wouldn’t subside, you groan and squirm a bit. you felt your body reacting to something, you just weren’t sure what it was. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all though, made your stomach flutter. You moan unknowingly, you were still tired and still wanted to sleep. So you go to bat away whatever it was between your legs.

“Mmm..?” your eyes open when you unexpectedly feel Logan’s hair under the covers. You lift the blankets and let out a tiny gasp when he starts to spear his tongue inside of you, making swirls around your clit when he looks up at you. “Ohh my god- Logan- Mmh” you mumble, you try to protest at first, but your hips grinding against his face told him enough. He grabs your legs and forces them down onto the bed as he buries his face even deeper into your heat, making you squirm even more under his grasp.

You throw your head back onto your pillow, gripping onto the sheets when he pulls away to nip at your inner thigh. “G’Morning, gorgeous.” he simply says before he continues to fuck your cunt with his tongue. You can only bite your lip and let out a stifled moan in response. You feel him chuckle against you between the licking and sucking of your wetness. Asshole.

Your legs were under his strong grasp, you were writhing around, but unable to do much to move away or push against his eager tongue. You were at the mercy of his mouth, and he wasn’t going to stop until he made you squeal his name. You reach down and hold into his dark hair, trying to get some more friction against his face. But he wanted to make it clear you weren’t in charge here, he makes one flat swipe up your heat with his tongue before backing up to taunt you. “Feels good, huh?” He teases your hardened clit, you whine and buck your hips. “Now hold still, angel.”

He puts your leg over his burly shoulder to get a better angle, then continues to bury his face in your soaked cunt, his facial hair chafing your inner thighs. He looks up at you as his tongue rhythmically moves between your folds, you look down at him with heated eyes and he fucking winks at you. You squint your eyes at him in annoyance at his cockiness, but that’s quickly interrupted by his fingers making their way to your entrance.

He pulls away to admire how wet you were from his spit and your slick, proud of his work, he rubs the outside of your pussy, getting his fingers wet to slowly push them into you. “So needy for me, dirty girl. Bet you wish it was my cock instead, huh baby?” You moan at the feeling and his words, back arching as his thick fingers fill you up, feeling him explore inside of you for that sweet spot. It felt amazing, your eyes roll in the back of your head when he curls them just right, like lightning in your stomach. “Ohhh fuck Logan..” you breathe out.

He thumbs at your clit with his other hand while sliding his fingers in and out of you, the added sensation only made you closer to the edge. “Don’t stop- Don’t stop.” you manage to choke out. You continue to beg until finally, the pleasure throughout your body makes your hips jerk as you come. You moan out his name, loud. He continues the same pace as before, not giving you any time to recover as he fingers you more. Your legs instinctively try to close around him, reacting to the overwhelming pressure inside of you. He doesn’t stop.

Your voice gets higher as you plead, repeating ‘please, please’ over and over, not sure if you were begging him to stop or keep going. “You can take it, baby.” To soothe you, he lays his hand on your stomach, trailing his touch up to your chest, he could feel and hear your heart beating like a rabbit’s. All of the sweet spots in your body had been shocked awake by his touch, making you far more sensitive than you were already. You can feel your legs start to shake as the pressure inside builds again.

“L-Logan- Logan It’s too much” You whine out and shut your eyes tight, you feel him move up the bed, he’s hovering over you now as he continues to abuse your sensitive cunt. He kisses your jawline. Making his way down to your neck, he whispers into your neck in a way that gives you goosebumps all over. “Look at me, sweets. Let’s see that pretty face you make when you come.” His gentle touches contrasted with how intensely he fingered you, but they only added to how great it felt. All thoughts about how tired you were far away now, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. Your tongues battling for dominance eased your overwhelmed mind, and you moan into his mouth as you come on his fingers, for the second time.

He continues to kiss you, letting you ride out your dazed high and eventually removing his fingers from you. Sweat trails down your head, your whole body felt hot and shaky under him. He pulls away from your lips to look down at you. “Good wake-up call, huh?”

You sigh, exhausted, and can’t help but giggle through your panting. “Fuck you.”

“I can make that happen, how’s three in a row sound?” he smirks down at you.

You look over at the clock on your nightstand, then back at him, a smirk also appearing on your face.

It was gonna be a long morning.

- fiona <33

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 6

TW: Mentions of Stalking

The next couple weeks were filled with cute dates and hang outs, either at your flat or theirs. You never saw Simon, always hiding in his room or out of the flat, running errands. But every night you’d go home, something felt off. You’d seen the man in the skull mask a few times, each time making you more and more wary. Finally, you’d said something to the boys one time when you were over.

“He just stands there, watching me. He’s never interacted with me or anything. But sometimes I swear someone’s been in my apartment,” you divulged as you laid on their couch, head in Johnny’s lap as you stared up at the ceiling. You didn’t see as Price’s eyes narrowed and Kyle looked towards Simon’s room. “We’ll look into it, petal. See what we can find out,” Johnny assured you, combing his fingers through your hair.

When you left that night, they confronted Simon. Rapping his knuckles against the door, Price called out to Simon, “Simon, can we talk?” The door opened and Simon looked over the three men standing outside his door. “Uh, sure,” he replied, eyebrow cocked as he stepped back and allowed them to file into the room he shared with Johnny when they all stayed there. 

They all settled into seats around the room; Johnny and Simon on the bed whilst Kyle sat in an armchair in the corner. Price stayed standing, arms crossed over his broad chest. “I’m going to come right out and say this and I want an honest answer, Simon,” Price commanded, his tone dropping into the one he used when they were deployed. “Are you stalking her?” Simon’s eyes went wide and he stood from the bed, shaking his head vehemently and trying to fight down the anger he had at being accused. “Hell no. I wouldn’t risk it. Why do you ask?” Simon questioned, his own arms crossing over his massive chest. “She told us about some guy in a skull mask watching her, stalking her building. If it’s not you, we need to find out who it is and quick,” Kyle explained, watching Simon with an uneasy gaze. “It’s not me,” Simon defended quickly, raising his hands to run through his dark hair. 

“Sounds like we have work to do. We’re going to have to get you and her reacquainted quickly,” Johnny added, diffusing the situation with one statement. Simon sighed in agreement. 

Back at your flat, you finally noticed something missing, your hairbrush. 

The next morning.  

👀: Wanna come over, dove? 🪻: Be there in 10

When you arrived, you could feel tension in the air. You were buzzed in quickly before you even touched the button. The door was unlocked as it always was when they knew you were coming. Stepping inside, you noticed there were four bodies in the living room, the only one you hadn’t spoken to with his back to you and his head in his hands. Something lit up in the back of your head and you tried to place him. “Come on in, dove. There’s tea on the table for you,” Kyle called from his spot on the couch. You clocked the tea he was speaking of and grabbed it, heading for your spot in the other corner of the couch. You refrained from looking at the new addition, butterflies fluttering away in your stomach. “What’s going on? You guys look like you’re breaking up with me,” you breathed out, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “Simon wanted to meet you, or well, reintroduce himself properly,” Price explained from his armchair. Reintroduce himself? You knew him? The man pulled his head out of his hands, brown eyes meeting yours. A soft gasp fell from your lips and your fingers tightened on the cup in your hands. “Guess I didn’t technically introduce myself the first time either,” he stated, an edge to his voice that you couldn’t decipher between amusement or stress. 

You couldn’t choose an emotion. Anger swirled in you while you remembered the way he left. Confusion tinged the anger as you tried to process how he was here. Happiness was in there somewhere, recognizing the man who’d calmed you down on the worst night of your life. 

“I’m going to need some explanation, because right now, I’m going with stalking and if that’s the case, you’re all in on it,” you wheezed, shaky hand now setting down the cup of tea. Johnny chuckled at your assumption, shaking his head while Price glared at him from his armchair, warning the younger man that now was not the time for his input. 

“I was in New York on a mission,” Simon stated very simply and you raised your brow. “Gonna need more than that, man,” you replied, mentally reminding yourself to breathe and stay calm. Simon made a sound that resembled a chuckle, but it was low and dark, almost inaudible. “Reconnaissance mission. Gathering intel on a group of terrorists hiding out in that building. Took time to find them, but it’s a damn good thing you left when you did.” Simon spoke as if the building had blown up. (It had. Two days after you moved out.) 

“So why are you here now?” You asked, feeling his words chipping away at your anxieties. “Well, technically, I own that couch you're sitting on,” Simon huffed, brow raised over his eyes, almost black from the low lighting in the room. “I own this flat and everything in it. The boys come to stay sometimes,” he continued, giving the men in the room a look that looked like he was smiling. 

“How did you find me?” You questioned, needing answers now and not having time for their loving moment unfortunately. “If I’m being honest, I roped my team into helping me find you, but you did a really good job of disappearing for a civie. Couldn’t find you until suddenly you were standing in the market in my hometown,” he explained, watching you now with his ever observant eyes. 

“Okay…so what? You convinced them into stalking me and inserting themselves into my life?” You were getting worked up, feeling your throat tighten at the idea that everything with them had been a lie.

“Petal,” Johnny began, coming to sit in front of you on the coffee table, the situation very similar to the night before. “Yes, it started that way, but each of us feel very strongly for you. You’ve become such a large part of our lives and we couldn’t imagine what it would be like without you,” he finished, reaching out tentatively to rest his hand on your knee. 

“I see,” you stated, looking between Johnny’s hand on your knee and each of their faces. “I think I need a minute,” you didn’t give them a chance to say anything as you rose from your seat and disappeared into the bathroom. 

Panic rose in your chest as you leaned against the back of the door, feeling a little like you just couldn’t get away from your past. But was Simon really your past? Yes, he’d left you there, but he’d tried to comfort you, calmed you down when you felt like your world was ending.

And the others. They’d been nothing but perfect gentlemen. Ever since the night with Price, they hadn’t done more than kiss you, even while their hands would skirt over the small of your back or drape their arm over your shoulders. Small touches that lit your skin on fire, making embers of arousal burn between your thighs. 

Running your fingers through your hair, you pushed off the door and splashed water on your face before staring at your reflection. You looked happier. No more bags under your eyes or the edge of sadness that had settled in the corners. You found yourself putting more effort into your appearance, confidence building with the way they treated you. Nodding your head at your reflection, you decided what you were going to do. 

While you were in the bathroom, the boys had sat in silence for a moment before Simon dropped his head back into his hands. Price had slumped for the first time in years, feeling as though this was it for them. Johnny and Kyle looked to each other with hope lining their morose features. They were scared. Scared that you would leave them and never come back. 

This story has gotten so far from my original intention, but we're going to roll with it.

Thank you to everyone who has commented, reblogged and liked! I really appreciate every one of you!

[pinkandgoldensoul]

CS#55 || So? || oneshot

Navigation || Masterlist

If this is your first time here on this blog, please check the Disclaimers here.

pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc sister!reader (feat. charles leclerc!brother) genre: secret relationship, strangers to lovers, fluff, a bit of smut (minors DNI), angst tw: panick attack, brief mentions of death (Hervé), swearing other notes: relationship between Carlos and Charles SUCKS. Consider it out of character, if you will. (Check Disclaimers above) Also, on the desktop version (the themed one) some of the spacing formatting isn't working, so I suggest reading it on the regular page (does it make sense? the one with the blue background. Edit: nevermind, the formatting glitches everywhere. Just... pretend it is fine.) word count: 24.2k plot: what could possibly go wrong if you hooked up with a handsome man who you too late discover to be your brother's teammate after said brother had tried to keep your existence unknown to his colleagues?

Hope you enjoy it ♥ If you do, please let me know! Thanks in advance to whoever will like, reblog and comment!

3 new messages from Lando where are u? want to celebrate with you you were my lucky charm today

>>♥<<

A bored night in the warm breeze of May, laying on the sofa with eyes fixed upon your phone’s screen: it was all you needed to twist your life around completely. Not even the breathtaking scenery outside the glass window could cheer you up: palm trees absorbing the orange shades of the sun, the placid ocean roaring on the shore, the pavements brimming with people. Miami’s perpetual heat weakened your limbs and consumed them slowly and steadily.

Charles had invited you to the race in the USA, hoping that the nice weather and the lively nightlife of Florida would perk your interest. «I honestly can’t believe you’re not coming to the club with me, that’s rude.» «Lan, you know why…» To be fair, spending time with Charles should’ve been a valid reason itself to hop on board the plane, without subtle hints to help you choose. And yet, he knew you wouldn’t have accepted his offer as easily as your mother or your brothers would. «Yes, but jeez, you can’t hide forever…» «Charles won’t let me. He wants me for Imola and Monaco too.» «No way he convinced you to do that.» «He promised to pay for anything I want while travelling with him.» It rubbed you the wrong way, and he knew it; he was sorry not to see you on any of his weekends, and you knew it. «Oh, now it makes sense.» he pauses. «Must be sad to be alone, though.»

After you had landed in Miami, being the youngest and the newest of all Leclerc’s, those two days in the paddock had been a nightmare: you had been asked to release some interviews, always receiving absurd questions on your brother’s behavior towards you, as if you weren’t independent enough to take care of yourself. The trap was set. To which your reaction was hiding in the flat Charles had booked for you and at the same time dreaming of breaking the confinement. «Maybe I won’t be alone…» «Uh? What’s up?» Exiting your first serious and disastrous relationship – as if anyone could know how to handle another person’s feelings at 21 – you had decided to experiment and not settle to rigid ties anymore, opting for fling burners instead, inspired by the air of freedom and possibilities of Florida. «I’m currently… scoping the surroundings.» You had created a Tinder account for the purpose. Scared that someone, despite your brief appearance in the paddock, could recognize you somehow, you had added pictures in which it was almost impossible to tell your face features apart and you had transfigured your surname in Clerc, enough to get away with it. It was as easy as breathing: no strings attached only in the bio, search set on matches near you by location and swipes. Lots of them. As toxic as it could be, receiving so much approval enticed you greatly, but at the same time filled you with inexplicable sadness. You knew nobody was there to stay. «Need to search elsewhere when you have me? I’m not enough for you, am I?» Despite how boldly you had followed your proposition, you hadn’t acted on your folly yet. Sure, you had been texting with some guys, but nobody had conquered your attention well enough to really drop the talk and meet them in person. You simply craved someone to take notice of you and let you know. «Lan! Of course you’re enough, silly.» Because you had craved it all your life.

>>♥<<

Through the endless swiping of new faces that Miami offered you, spread on the couch, your half-closed eyelids suddenly batted open. Chili. Mmh. Weird nickname. Sus as heck. But boy, was he handsome. You kept staring at the photos of his card, and well… His facial features were barely visible, or not displayed all together at once – in one pic his lavishly thick hair, in another one his glossy eyes, in yet another one the plumpest and most inviting lips on earth… –, but you had quite made out his body, and it didn’t surprise you at all to read in his short bio that he was an athlete. «I could tell, honey.» you whispered to yourself, still bewildered. A pleased smile adorned your lips as you read the other lines of the bio. Just searching for some good fun, no commitment. All you wanted on a silver plate, right before your drooling heart. A rush of excitement cursed through your fingertips as you swiped right and immediately opened the chat, halting in search of the right words to type.

hey, nice to

What the fuck, it doesn’t have to be this awkward and formal. You pouted in reflection, then deleted and re-typed.

hey, want to hang out?

Too straightforward, it seems like you’re the neediest girl on earth…

love your profile, I’d like to get to know you more

And this is just pathetic. Clingy and stalkerish when he asked for no commitment. You huffed in frustration and threw your arm over your eyes to conceal the hard truth: your inexperience and naivety wasn’t to be changed overnight by downloading a dating app. Looking back at the phone, you were ready to spend another hour figuring out what to say, when you noticed a new text on the chat.

are you free to hang out tonight?

Straightforward would’ve been fine, after all. Because the bluntness and directness of his text shook you deeply within, pulling strings of yearning, curiosity and utmost fascination.

yes, ofc > can i at least know your real name? cause i don’t think it’s Chili, right?

You saw his typing dots.

Carlos let’s meet at the Regent at 9

Panicking on Google Maps to search for the address, you saw another notification pop.

the dress code is quite elegant, but i’m sure you’ll wear something nice both for yourself and for me as well can’t wait to meet you

Cheeks burning red, dazed by the whole interaction and its speed, dizzy with adrenaline, you had no more focus than what’s required to type:

> me too

>>♥<<

You tried to relax your muscles under the hot night breeze, as the sun still lingered on the horizon before setting down. Nervousness stuck the dress on your skin, as much as it dried your mouth and throat. Your only shield: sunglasses. Wearing them at any time of the day was a habit you had unknowingly inherited by Charles. As soon as he had picked it up, he had bought you – well, gifted you, since he had an awfully huge collection of them – a pair of Ray Ban’s for your birthday. Whenever you two would hang out together, not often, and he’d invite you aboard his Sedici yacht during the summer break, at the sight of those sunglasses his lips would stretch in his unmistakable dimpled smile.

The walk on the pavement seemed endless and a thousand thoughts crossed your scattered mind: years and years of recommendations from Lorenzo thrown to the wind only to hang out with the first guy met online. Not even met: just let him do the talk on his own and had you wrapped around his finger.

Your sandals moving in shorter steps as you approached the lounge bar, you eyed a standing figure, casually leaning near the entrance, whose small smile momentarily melted your knot of anxiety. Carlos didn’t even give you time to greet him and take in his overwhelming presence that he placed his hand on the small of your back, gently but somehow already intimately, directing you towards the entrance. «Sorry, I’ll explain later. Let’s get inside.» «Sure!» Your voice betrayed the attempt at sounding confident with its squeakiness. Mentally facepalming yourself for it, you couldn’t stray your gaze away from his hypnotizing features: he seemed older than what you had thought while observing his profile pictures (and you had consumed them with staring, so it definitely wasn’t due to lack of attention) and he exuded a timeless charm quite inexplicable.

As soon as he asked the waiter about his – therefore yours – reservation, you were both given room and led to an inner area of the bar, way quieter and with fewer tables crowding it. He pulled the chair for you, like a true gentleman, and took a seat, grinning wide as you both settled. «Sorry for the hurry, I didn’t mean to sound rude.» «No need to apologize!» you quickly hushed, already blushing by the proximity. «And sorry if I asked you to hang out with no warning, but I’m leaving tomorrow morning and… I definitely needed to meet you first, y/n.» The name and the thick Spanish accent had sparked the thought, but his words were a confirmation Carlos was probably in Miami by chance, as much as you were. «Well, I’m leaving tomorrow too, don’t worry. And I wouldn’t have accepted if I didn’t want to be here.»

You exchanged a delighted stare, while going through the menu in search of your cocktail order and, consequently, of relief. Though, the pleasant tension you had felt, like a string pulling you to him, as soon as you had seen him, had gradually disappeared and had left space to a growing sense of ease, almost familiarity: words, together with the liquid content of your drinks, flowed without interruptions, and you touched a wide variety of topics, always finding yourselves on the same page. «Thank you for choosing a quiet place. My moves are constantly watched…» you sighed. «I came here last year and I really enjoyed how chilled out it is. Makes me relax.» Carlos leaned back into his chair, so that his collarbones immediately popped under his tanned flesh. «So you’re always chased too?» «Not as much as my brother, but yes.» «Is it because of him? Is he known?» «More than known, yes.» you smiled. «My life is reserved, compared to his.» Carlos took a sip of his drink with a sympathetic smile. «Would you prefer a quieter life?» he asked. You raised your glass, lost in thought. «Maybe, but that would mean my brother isn’t successful anymore, so no. I really can’t complain about my life, I’m… lucky.» you pulled a small smile. «I wish I were as grateful as you are.» Carlos sighed, and his resignation intrigued you. «Should you be?» «Oh, yeah, I think so.» he took another long sip, then wetting his lips clean. «But I’ve had paparazzi around me since I was young and I can’t bear the media’s attention anymore.» «There’s nothing wrong with that. You shouldn’t feel forced to gratitude.» you calmly prompted.

His pupils were quite enlarged, you noticed, and glazed with softness: your hand was laid close to his, almost at a fingertip’s distance, and for a moment you both glanced down at them, craving the same touch and connection your minds and feelings had experienced. It had only been half an hour since you had crossed The Regent’s threshold guided by Carlos’ hand and you were already perceiving a mutual tenderness none of you anticipated nor searched for, and which you now couldn’t let go of even if you tried. After chuckling to each other at the miserable sight of your emptied glasses, you both agreed to order a second round of cocktails, which flowed effortlessly down your throats as a sweet-toned conversation left your tongues. You learned about his passion for most sports, laughing and being entertained by his anecdotes, only to feel flustered by his sudden questions about you.

Finally, after staring satisfied and content at each other, Carlos asked for the bill, which he insisted on paying. Waiting for it, you hummed to the music playing inside the cozy lounge bar. He frowned, clearly amused. «Do you like this song?» he asked. «Of course I do? Who doesn’t?» You light-heartedly mouthed him smooth operator as Sade’s voice sang the chorus, moving along to the beat. Carlos couldn’t stray his eyes away from your enchanting figure and acknowledged how smitten he had already become after only a casual talk. He honestly wouldn’t believe you were only searching for a good time as he was. Apart from looking desperately beautifully young, you had a cheerful glee in your manners, a youthful spark inside your eyes which lured him in way more than he would’ve liked. He had given up on his wicked intents as soon as you had cheered him down the street with your flustered smile; he had been soft and warm for you already before sitting at your booked table. He had enjoyed talking with you more than he’d had with any past fling. He could tell you were someone different, someone to be treated with care, somehow; and the biggest surprise was that he didn’t mind at all undertaking such a delicate task.

After paying the bill, Carlos got up right away, implicitly inviting you to do the same. «Come, I want to show you a place.» Taking your sunglasses in your fingers and lightly fidgeting with them, a smile still lingered on your lips from the thrill of conversation. «Where?» Carlos grinned, placing his hand on yours to stop the nervous work on the Ray Ban’s temples. «Do you trust me?» His touch sent your whole body in trance and sudden anticipation of further exposure all at once, like a rush. Was it okay to trust a stranger? And on top of that, a devilishly handsome one? Was it okay to let him guide you God knows where in a foreign country with the darkness of the night approaching? You nodded. «Yes.» «Let’s go, then.» And with a swift move, he took the sunglasses out of your loosened grab, wearing them on, leaving you breathless as the thicker frame fitted his masculine features stunningly.

The botanical garden was barely ten minutes away from The Regent, making it pleasant to walk under the setting sun of Miami. To your surprise, some areas of the garden were empty, so that your quiet stroll with Carlos felt like an intimate travel in astonishing oases of peace, silence and chirping birds, drowned in the relaxing green of leaves. You walked alongside, so close and so slow that your hands were always on the verge of touching, until you both naturally reached to the other and sealed them in a secure hold. You smiled, buzzing with warmth. As sun rays cut through the leaves and chased your figures, you couldn’t help but be caught in staring at Carlos’ glowing skin while he was talking. «Have you ever been to Spain?» «No, never.» you shook your head. «You need to come, for sure. The weather is even better than Florida.» His genuine, happy grin made one burst on your face too, suddenly blinded by a sun beam. «You should visit Monaco, then.» you replied with pride. «You mean the Principality?» «Yes. I live there.» «Too bad I’ve already planned to move there months ago.» You stared at him, shook. How many chances were there? «And now that I know you live there, I’ve got another good reason to hurry up.» You eye rolled, flustered, brushing your upper arms in a poor attempt to dust off the cozy, warm feelings blooming in your chest. «Can’t wait.» you murmured, smiling.

Abruptly, Carlos stopped as you were crossing a small wooden bridge inside the garden, facing you and gazing low to your intertwined fingers. The soft rocking sound of water and the inebriating smell of night descending on Florida slowed the flow of time. «I, uhm… I’m going to be one hundred percent honest with you.» he began. «I really like you. This is the most fun I’ve had with someone without having to get naked since a long time.» Carlos kept caressing your fingers with his, flickering his eyes back and forth from yours to your hands. «I know that you probably expected something different from tonight…» «No, it was perfect.» you stepped in. «Indeed, it was.» Carlos smiled, still shyly looking down. «But my job makes me really busy. As much as I’d like to spend more days with you and enjoy moments together, I’m constantly travelling across the world and… I don’t want you to think I don’t care.» «I wasn’t-» «And I don’t want to force you to follow me everywhere I go, especially because we both would be exposed to the media and… I guess we’re both tired of it.» «We… we don’t need to go at full speed. We can try to keep in contact the times you are available. There’s no rush.» you suggested, leaning a bit nearer.

Only then you realized how close you had got, Carlos’ starry eyes boring into yours. «Don’t you feel an urge?» he asked, husky. «I think I do.» you simply managed to breathe out, a bit shaky. «But I have no problems in waiting, and we’ll meet up whenever-» It rained on your mouth, a waterfall of bliss and honey through the touch of his plump lips: instead of releasing a pent-up tension, it sharpened the yearn, hands searching for a place of belonging and rest on your respective bodies. «I’ll text you every day.» he said in between the kiss. «Don’t make promises you can’t keep.» you chuckled. «I always keep my word. You’ll learn to know me.» «Such a lover boy.» you whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

>> 2 new messages from Lando so did you hook up? > hottest man alive, but we only kissed lame >> 2 new messages from Chili🌶

look who’s with me

You gaped, an immediate grin spreading on your lips.

guess when you’re seeing them again

«Y/n, can you help me with the vegetables? Charles and Alex are going to be here any minute!» «Yes, mom, I’m coming.»

> omg have you planned something? you bet >> 1 new message from Lando don’t tell me you’re down for him already      > i am, plus we’re seeing again woah what happened to the whole “I’m never going to date again PERIOD”?      > disappeared as soon as I met him ♥ gross send me a pic of him rn

«Y/n?» «I’m coming!» you said loudly, finally getting up the couch and walking towards the kitchen, eyes still glued to your phone.

>> 1 new message from Chili🌶 and what about you?      > what?

«Here you are! Take this, cut these carrots, please.»

have you planned anything for me?

Pascale sighed as she was still handing the knife to you.

     > you bet

«Never mind.» «No, mom, I’ll do it, give me the knife!» you whined, stuffing your phone in your pocket. She immediately smiled at you, a glint of curiosity and mischief not going unnoticed to your trained eye. «Who was it?» she chirped. «Lando.» «Oh, how is he doing?» «Good.» Your phone buzzed as new notifications popped in, wearing your nerves so thin you had to quickly take it out the pocket and put it on silent. «Eager to talk to you, uh?» «What?» you rapidly turned your head to her. «Lando. It’s him texting you, right?» You didn’t know, but something told you your cheeks were flushed, indeed, that they had been all along since you had stepped next to the kitchen counter. A picture. What if Lando could recognize Carlos, being into sports more than you were? What if Carlos didn’t want to be shown around, after the privacy talk you had shared?

>> 1 new message from Lando want to judge myself      > gatekeeping his beauty from your unholy mind > sorry

>>♥<<

During lunch, you stayed pretty much silent, always taking the chance to clear plates and bring them to the sink so that you could check your phone, unnoticed.

please tell me you’re free this weekend i organized everything, you’re going to love it

You stared at the bottom of the sink.

it’ll be just us no paparazzi shit

Plopping an apricot on the pottery fruit basket, you glanced outside the window above the sink, a line of gray clouds aligned at the horizon, casting a dark shadow onto Monaco’s corner of sea.

You placed the pottery full of fruits in the middle of the dining table and took a seat. Charles swiftly grabbed an apple and unapologetically gave it a big bite, making everyone chuckle at his antics. Everyone, but you. «So…» he said, still chewing. «Ready for Sunday? The forecast says it’s going to be sunny all day.» «Can we ride watercrafts this time? I don’t want to lay on the deck for twelve hours.» Arthur chimed in. «Yes, of course.» Charles nodded, taking another bite. «But I’d do that in the afternoon, when the sun isn’t too bright.» «Deal. We need to organize a watercraft race!» «I know, right? What about-» «I don’t think I’m coming.» Charles, who was seated right in front of you, stopped chewing and gave you an expressionless glance. «Why not?» «I think I got a sunburn in Miami and I don’t want it to get worse.» Charles’ left eyebrow quickly raised in annoyance, then he shook his head to himself. «I don’t believe it, but you’re free to stay home.» he said monotone. «I won’t stay home.» you said quiet, but still somehow assertive. At this point, everyone at the table – Lorenzo, Alexandra and Pascale included – were staring at you in anticipation, trying to decipher your words. «I’m going to Provence for the weekend.» Charles scoffed, taking another huge bite out of frustration. «You’ll spend two days hiding under a rock, then, if you really want to avoid sun exposure there.» «Charles…» Pascale tried to warn him. He bored his eyes into yours, so that you read right away his disappointment painted in bold letters. «Some days I feel like I don’t have a sister at all.» As your mother scolded him again, you could see drops of venom fall from his lucid lips, as he had stabbed a full syringe of it right in the middle of your chest, which had caused you to abruptly stand up, hands on the table, eyes wide like a mad woman. «And I’ve been feeling without a brother every fucking day of my life, Charles.» Lorenzo intercepted your arm as you fled to your room, getting up and chasing you but not fast enough to stop your march; he was met with the cold, white wood of your door like a slap on his face, still pleading you to open it. A simple hiccupped sigh, tears pricking your eyes. Vision blurry, you took your phone.

can we leave earlier than Saturday?

You spent the evening crouched on the bed, feet pressing the duvet, fighting feelings away. It haunted you all at once, as it usually would: breaths would pick up the pace, matching your scattered thoughts, heart beating loud. Lorenzo had knocked on your door several times throughout the evening, while you overheard a constant muffled talk in the living room, sure of the discussion your dramatic departure had ignited. It was still a fresh wound. It still bled through the skin. Never having your father nor your brother aside when it mattered. Lorenzo had tried to suffice, being the eldest; he probably was the only one who had seen you breakdown before, the one able to at least take your loneliness into consideration. Out of all the people in the house, he was the one to patiently check in on you in the darkest hour of the night, knowing you’d be still awake. He was the one who hugged you and hid your sighs with reassurances, among your broken “I can’t do it”, the one to cup your wet cheek while sitting on the bed. As every other night. «Please, let me leave this weekend, I don’t want to come…» you chanted, like a prayer. «Of course you can go, no one said you can’t. It’s all good.» The one to cradle you, to caress your messy hair, to cuddle you to sleep in your twin bed. >>♥<<

You landed in Jerez on Thursday, around midday. Crossing the exit of the airport with your suitcase in hand, you got swamped with a wave of heat. Sun shining way too bright for your eyes to keep open, you placed a hand on your forehead, shielding them, so that you could spot Carlos’ car more easily. It was hard; indeed, he hadn’t chosen anything fancy like most sportsmen do, but opted for something low-key instead. Once you had caught sight of Carlos’ luscious hair and silhouette at the driving seat, you confidently walked towards the car, quite surprised to see it was barely decent and clean. Without hesitation, you loaded your suitcase and took the passenger seat, throwing an inquisitive glance. «Couldn’t you find anything nicer than this… car wreck?» He chuckled. «You’ll see why we need it.» In a flash, Carlos leaned over to grab your seatbelt and put it on for you: he seized the chance to linger a few inches from your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. «I missed you.» «It’s been barely a week!» you giggled. Since he still hadn’t moved away, you cupped his cheeks and left another quick peck on his lips, being too adorable and handsome not to. «But I missed you too.» you added, soft. «That’s what I wanted to hear.» he whispered with a grin. And with that, he finally put on your seatbelt, ready to switch the engine on.

The road was a lonely stripe in the middle of burned-yellow lands, hills and the smallest villages punctuating the view. You pointed out all the Spanish flags you could see, amused, letting your arm wander in the warm air outside the window. After more or less an hour of travelling from the airport, when the street started to get uphill and quite bumpy, you rapidly understood Carlos’ vehicle choice. «Where are we going?» you beamed. «Be patient, we’re almost there.» You reached a crossroads: you could either keep driving uphill or follow down a path on foot. Carlos parked the car in the small space available before the fork. «C’mon, let’s go.» he gestured. «But we’re in the middle of nowhere!» you protested, getting out of the car. Carlos opened the trunk and took your suitcase, snatching it before you could even imagine carrying it yourself. «And what do you think this is?» You raised your eyes up to the point he indicated and your jaw dropped: right at the side of the crossroads, there was a beautiful one-store small villa, with huge glass windows and a skillfully-made path of stones leading up to the entrance door. The white tint of the walls gave a sense of freshness and broadness, paired up with the same simplicity achieved through its squared forms. Carlos approached the small gate, taking a pair of keys from his pocket. «Is it for us?» you asked, dumbfounded. «Of course.» he stated matter-of-factly. Still struck by the beauty of the landscape – the sea roaring behind your back, the hill dominating it from above – you hurried up behind Carlos, following the stoned path.

«We’re staying here because this way we’re closer to the beach and to another place I’ll show you on Sunday.» «Good, because I almost only packed swimwear, as you’ve told me.» You both chuckled. Eyes still wandering around the room, enamored with the designing choices – warm and light tones both for the wallpaper and the furniture – you then ultimately placed your stare back on Carlos’ towering figure, inevitably feeling a burst of excitement and thrill. Before you could move an inch closer to him, he cleared his throat. «Come, I’ll show you the rest of the house.» The shower in the bathroom made you want to strip naked and immediately get the best out of its luxury: black stones, golden details, a small basket full of products only awaiting usage; a huge mirror above the modern-styled sink. «I’m going to spend hours in here, I’m telling you.» you said, still in awe. Carlos laughed whole-heartedly. «I can’t blame you.» You then walked into the bedroom, first noticing the king-sized bed; then, a huge, curtained glass window caught your attention, pushing you to get close and unveil the breathtaking scenery concealed behind it. «That’s the beach we’ll go to.» Carlos said, still standing at the door frame. You turned your head to him, lips slightly parted. «Carlos, this is… It’s incredible, thank you so much.» He walked over to you, smiling in delight, guiding you back into the sightseeing pose with his hands, gently. «Thanks to you for accepting.» he said, low-toned. Maybe it was May’s bright sun making heat creep up your cheeks, or maybe it was Carlos’ touch on your burning skin; maybe you hadn’t lied to Charles when you had said you had got a burn in Miami, a severe one, something not to overlook, because Carlos was drowning you in explosive helium, and the same reckless rush had ignited you both, bringing you under the hot sky of Spain. And now that you were hypnotized by his overwhelming presence, you could only search for his eyes in the reflection of the window, gulping as you noticed he was doing the exact same. The vision of his fingers dancing on your skin hit you deeper than the mere tactile perception, as if you had just become aware of the tantalizing movement on your arm. You saw Carlos’ face fade away from the reflection and felt suddenly naked, deprived of his touch. As an immediate reaction, you turned around to keep looking at him, something you couldn’t do without anymore. «As you can see, there’s only one bed. If you don’t feel comfortable sleeping together…» «No, Carlos, of course I want to sleep with you.» you blurted out in a rush, only to mentally facepalm for the unintended pun. He smirked, both amused and finding your embarrassment endearing. «Happy to know that.»

>>♥<<

There was something that either you had miscalculated or that Carlos had carefully taken into consideration while organizing the trip, something you hadn’t thought about while packing your favorite swimsuits and bikinis, alongside sarongs and summer dresses: that you’d be both almost completely naked, all day. After spending the morning in the cool, crystal-clear water, during the hottest hours you would drop back home to eat something on the fly – and change into a dry swimsuit –, then running back to the beach in the afternoon to walk hand in hand ‘til the sun set on the fine sand of the shore.

The first day was a nightmare. You both felt a rush of electricity run through you whenever you’d touch by chance, while swimming in the waves or passing a towel to the other; you were always feasting on each other’s bodies, almost shamelessly, driven by exasperation; you’d obsessively remind each other to wear sunscreen, so that you could either give help with spreading it over or enjoy one’s hands doing what the other’s craved. The only relief to the unbearable closeness was a profound, endless, affectionate conversation. Answers, follow-up questions, anecdotes, some common trivia about each other; you’d say the yearn for the physical was only a manifestation of a deeper emotional longing.

And that’s how, on the first day of vacation, you ended up looking at the soft reddish waves of sea calmly settling a layer of foam on the shore, both sitting on the sand as Carlos hugged you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. You shut your eyes, impressing the beauty of the evening breeze and the sight in your memory, while Carlos pressed his lips at the base of your neck. «You still haven’t told me which sport you practice.» you murmured. «Basically any sport, you name it.» «Are you a decathlon athlete?» you smiled. Carlos looked at you with a raised brow. «You really want to know, uh?» «Am I right?» «No, but thanks for trying.» he smirked. «Why can’t you tell me?» Carlos paused, and it was his time to gaze at the distance, enjoying the peaceful view of the horizon. «I just want to keep you out of it as long as I can. Always around the world, people watching every single move and invading your privacy, pictures and video you can’t prevent from leaking…» he tsked. «This isn’t what I want for us. I mean, look at us now: no expectations, no hectic lifestyle, no rush. We’re alone, we have nothing else but each other.» You nodded in small movements, almost to yourself. «My brother is almost never home. He’s been involved in the sport since he was a kid and already when he was a teen he’d be nowhere near Monaco.» Carlos rubbed your back as you talked. «Did you feel alone?» «Not really, no. I’ve got two other brothers.» «Please, don’t tell me they’re all older than you.» You smiled at his tone, giggling at his little “oh no…” as he realized it was the case. «But apart from gradually growing distant from my brother, the thing that I’ll never be able to forgive is that my dad was always with him. Because of him, I lost both a brother and a father.» Trying to drown out the tingling feelings of hurt failed as Carlos encircled you with his arms, pressing his lips on your temple in a tender kiss. You swallowed hard before carrying on. «So… If anything, I’m more scared of not being allowed in every part of your life.» you made eye contact with him. «And we would still have each other, no matter what.» Tacitly thanking you for sharing your feelings, Carlos kissed you briefly before settling back his head on your shoulder. «When you texted me you wanted to leave earlier, I was happy like a little kid.» You grinned, eyes veiled with sadness. «Yeah, I couldn’t wait.» Carlos gently grabbed your chin with his fingers, demanding eye contact back again: you soon dropped it, as Charles’ poisonous words still rang in your ears. «I wanted to run away.» you confessed, then resting your head onto your buckled knees, gazing at the sea. «Did something happen?» Carlos asked, soft, rubbing your back in soothing motions. «Nothing new. It’s always the same.» He leaned in to meet your eyes again, his hand still resting on your back. «Not today. It’s us, now.»

After hours of fast-paced teasing, the way your lips met in a kiss was slow, intimate; he brushed your hair with unexpected tenderness while deepening the kiss, getting to taste more of the sweetness he had drunk. «It’s just us.» he whispered again, tilting his head on the opposite side.

A soft wind rolled shivers on your skin as much as his hands settling on your waist and gently squeezing it did; heart about to burst out of your chest, you pressed both your hands on his cheeks, to keep him steady on you, not to let go of the sweet pleasure of closeness. It was only you and him on the beach, as the sun sank in the sea to let you two enjoy each other’s embrace: Carlos had spread one hand on your back, radiating a warm tingling feeling in your stomach as he slowly guided you to lie down on the bath towel beneath you. Despite the thought having lingered in the air, untold, for long, you couldn’t let yourself be bothered by where the night was leading, too pleasantly overwhelmed by his swift and yet careful moves.

Only when Carlos grazed your neck and you were lulled by his sharp inhales and his fanning breath over you, only when the bulge of his damp swimsuit involuntarily met your core causing you to grip a curl of his thick hair with your lips parted in bliss, only then you realized he was invading your entire space and driving your senses in tilt with too many feelings to process and to give into. You moaned, helpless, as he brushed over your core once again. Carlos halted, his dark irises contrasting with the white of the sclera even more, as his eyes were wide open; his chest, you noticed, heaved with an impatience that matched your own, electricity running through both your bodies. He had forced himself to stop. What are you waiting for?, a part of him said; and it was the impulsive one, the needy, the greedy, the one which had reached out for you in the Tinder matches only a week ago. The one which had him palming himself while staring at your pictures, anticipating the meeting with lust; the one that almost lost control by breathing in your scent after a few days he hadn’t seen you as he put the seatbelt on for you. But then, another part of him had put the hand brake. The one which had felt a soft spot for you when you laughed at the bar listening to his jokes, the one that cherished you like a treasure meant to be preserved pure and rare in its beauty, the one that would hang from your lips and comply with your pace, your desire.

You stared at each other for seconds which seemed eternity; you caught every single movement of Carlos’ body, attentive like a deer observing the predator’s actions. He wetted his lips, he flicked his eyes elsewhere before being drawn on you, this time with a softer gaze. His scent inebriated you as he leaned towards you, getting so close you could feel your own heart beating on the very edge of your skin, drawn like a magnet to Carlos. The concert of quickened breaths and pants blacked out the distant grating roar of the sea: your rhythm, your frequency, your tune was his to dictate.

As his hot breath signaled how he had got dangerously close to your ear, you kept your fingers intertwined in his hair, your entire body trembling in anticipation. «I want you.» His husky voice sent a violent shiver down your arching back, so deep in desire that your eyelids half-closed, fighting the instinct to push Carlos’ head on your neck to finally unleash his teasing. He had waited, he had thought about keeping you that close since the first time you had seen each other: and still he had refrained from acting on his selfish needs, and he had crafted instead the most alluring trap for you, making it impossible to untangle from him. Not that you wanted to. You didn’t know how you had both been able to fall so heavily in love in less than a week, but it had happened out of your notice, and with his tanned torso occupying all your senses – hot and full to the touch, a light veil of his cologne lingering on it despite the sea salt – there was no way to take a step back. Carlos couldn’t either. Not with your skin palpitating before his eyes, before his lips, so kissable, so perfectly laid out for him to nibble at, to mark and stain with passion. «Fuck, I need you…» You were in too deep. Your breath hitched at his husky tone. «Carlos…» His lips brushing yours with a circling motion, teasing them with a gut-wrenching delay, he whispered again honey-laced words. «Tell me you want it as much as I do, please…»

Without time to answer, mumbling another desperate please, he sealed his request with a kiss, which immediately became sloppy and messy due to your impatient bodies pressing onto the other, grabbing, exploring, roaming for pleasure. Lost in the kiss, you couldn’t tell whether it was Carlos rubbing his hard-on you or you desperately searching for friction through the damp layers of your swimsuits. However it might be, the result was the same: it had you whining and moaning, feeling the first stone-cold fabric warming through your throbbing cores, once rubbing couldn’t soothe the ache anymore. Carlos’ groan told you he felt the same way.

He couldn’t wait any more second: his body, mind and soul craved you all at once with the same disrupting force. Looking around, hurriedly rummaging with one hand in the pocket of his dismissed trousers, he sighed in frustration, placing his forehead upon yours. «I don’t have condoms here, for fuck’s sake…» he breathed out, a mix of disappointment and apology in his tone. You brushed his cheek, half hiding a smile. «But I promise I have them in the house. When we go back-» You pressed your pointer finger on his lips to interrupt him. «I’m on the pill.» Carlos’ eyes widened in realization, and despite being pulled by a nosy curiosity as to why you were on birth control, his arousal got the best of him and cut short any feasible matter.

He had captured your lips back in another messy kiss, slow-paced, open-mouthed, and his fingers had immediately rushed to teasingly push down your bottom swimsuit, tracing your folds with the thick wetness he was welcomed by. He growled into the kiss as soon as he noticed how turned on you were, feeling his own cock stir once more inside his swim trunks; with another groan, he left your glistening lips, smirking, and you understood why the moment his digits found your clit. You couldn’t control a half-screamed moan. «Nobody can hear us. I want you to be louder, baby.» As he rubbed you with his thumb slow and steady, your mind disconnected and stopped working properly: it was just him, his fingers making you mewl and his bulge against your bare thigh.

Carlos’ stare was unbearable: it was so filled with lust you had to stray away not to feel a hotter wave of heat on your reddened cheeks, to shut your eyes in bliss, to look down at his hand disappearing under your bikini. And if only you could’ve sustained his eyes for more than a few seconds, you would’ve noticed how he was struggling as well. Eight years of age gap. Sure, he still had to turn thirty, but… «Please, Carlos… I need to- GOSH!» you cried out. «Use your words, love. What do you need?» Maybe he was rushing it just for his own yearning, without taking you into much consideration. Not even a week after meeting each other for the first time and already hitting the fourth base… «Fuck, I need your fingers inside… Oh, please!» you moaned, tilting your head to the side. Or maybe he was simply complying to your desires as well. «Like this?» After all, you had already proved him that you weren’t a naïve little girl: your talks, your constant teasing (well thought-out, thanks to your provocative swimsuits), the way you hadn’t seem shocked or scared by his maneuvers but, quite the opposite, thrilled and longing for them. You were both on the same wavelength. «Ah, fuck me… Fuck!» What was he supposed to do now? Now that you were a whimpering mess under his expert fingers, now that he had you right where he had needed you to be since the first moment – below him, legs open for him, nipples tensed and visible under the top of your bikini, begging for your release –, now that he had the green light, it took a while to realize he could go for more without risking being turned down. «Carlos, please…» Spaced out, he had raised back on his knees, and you had started panting out of breath at both the sudden lack of contact and at the scene before you, his hands slowly pulling down his trunks. He was taken over by an unexplainable aplomb, moving carefully but surely at the same time, precise as a sniper in brushing your most sensitive spots: his calm had the opposite effect on your body, shaking in desire, swollen and aching, and you gripped his back once he leaned over you, his tip teasing your entrance.

>>♥<<

Your second day in southern Spain was spent in Carlos’ arms. Stirring after a night of sleep next to him, mattress and sheets still warm, you had felt his boner pressing on your thigh, as you had cuddled together all night. After exchanging the most adorable sleepy grin with him, you hadn’t hesitated to take the matter in your own hands. Neither had Carlos: less than a minute in, frustrated by how poorly he could pleasure you while lying next to you upright, he had quickly ordered you to sit on his face, so that he could grab your thighs, squeeze them tight in place whenever you’d try to shift away from his skillful tongue. He learned you quickly, cracking your body’s code after that abundant breakfast in bed; spending yet another morning on Playa de el Cañuelo, enjoying the vibrant shades of the sea water, wetting your ankles while sitting on the shore, eyes closed in delight and sunbathing, you didn’t expect you’d soon learn his.

At lunch, as usual, you both refuged back in the villa, welcomed by a cooler temperature. While preparing two bowls of salad, you felt a pair of hands sliding on your skin, rolling up your sarong to toy with the two nods holding the bottom of your bikini together. Before you could even realize, the feast had begun, as you moaned his name gripping the marble counter while he thrusted into you with one single stroke. Nibbling, biting and open-mouthed kisses were tell-tale signs of your mutual hunger, which Carlos’ cock satiated by providing you with a sickly-sweet full sensation, your stomach being filled with him. Out of impatience and urge, Carlos had satisfied his own leaning back onto the edge of the kitchen table and dragging you back with him through the firm hold he had on your hips, rocking you back and forth with ease and speed. You were now sure the sunburn had got severe, it had caused a fever: and Carlos was both the rays and the refreshing after-sun lotion, sliding on your skin, penetrating it, nourishing it from within.

>>♥<<

The surprise he had warned you about came on Sunday late afternoon. «Ready for a walk?» He had waited for the heat to be less intense, making it pleasant to stroll undisturbed hand in hand on a dirt path next to Playa de el Cañuelo, which went up the hill, amongst the bushes. From up there, you looked back to the beach and caught a magnificent glimpse of the view: the sea seemed even broader and distant, roaring onto the shore. Carlos stopped with you to enjoy the sight, reading into your sparkling eyes. «Let’s go, we’re almost there.»

You had been walking roughly for ten minutes, when you reached a crossing: the dirt left room to a wooden walkway with railing, leading back down to the jagged coast. «Este es el Faro de Camarinal.» «This is what?» you giggled. «Faro means lighthouse.» Holding hands and playing push and pull like two kids, you stared at Carlos’ lips closely as to replicate the Spanish words rolling off them, since he was determined to teach them to you. «Faster, now.» «I can’t! It’s impossible, you’re too quick.» «Try.» You both chuckled at each other, taken over by exhilaration for no particular reason but closeness. «Faro… Faro de Marinal?» «Camarinal.» «Faro de Camarinal.» Grinning at you, he let go of one of your hands to guide you towards the lighthouse once again, letting your steps resonating through the wooden boards. «Better. You improve very quickly.» «Are you planning on teaching Spanish to me already?» You both stopped in front of an old metallic door at the base of the lighthouse, on which a sign hung off: prohibido el paso. «You know me so well and yet it hasn’t even been a month since we’ve met.» «You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.» «It just amazes me.» he looked at you. «You amaze me.» The orange glow of the sunset warmed your cheeks, forcing you to suppress a smile after hearing Carlos’ comment. «Let’s go.» «But we can’t. Isn’t this a prohibition sign?» «It is. But nobody ever comes here and it’s completely safe to go inside.» He then proceeded to open the door, which was loosely closed, and invited you to step in, offering his hand to you given your reticence.

After carefully going upstairs being wary of any danger, you came at the top panting a bit, but the view managed to leave you wholly breathless: the sea, the glimmering of the distant waves due to the sun diving in and swimming in the golden water. «I used to come here when I was a kid.» «Did you come to this beach during holidays?» «Yes. This was the refuge I’d run to when my mom showed up to tell me we had to go back home.» You lowered your gaze and smirked, hit by the tenderness of the memory. «Is this a way to say you wish this trip didn’t end today?» «It is. And I also wanted to show you my favorite spot in Spain.»

You both engaged in sightseeing, Carlos hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder for a while, as he had grown accustomed to doing in those three days; you brushed his arms as he enveloped your waist, feeling cozy and happy in the embrace. Softly, gently, like a dance, he reached for the ribbon of your white swim dress and began undoing it, while you both imperceptibly moved your bodies to the rhythm of your hands. «This swimsuit is the best you’ve brought on this trip.» Carlos whispered in your ear. «Glad you like it… It was meant to be my small surprise for you.» «Let me unwrap it so that I can get my real surprise, then…»

«And then what happened?» «Lan. You know what happened.»

You paced back and forth inside your bedroom, grinning wide as if Lando could ever see the sparkling magic in your eyes as you were telling him minute by minute everything about the sweet romanticism that had gone down during the trip. He had called you because he knew would like to vent and extenuate him with every single detail of that perfect, dreamy vacation. «Of course I do, but I want you to embarrassedly say it out loud so that you know how down bad you are.» You heavily sighed, knowing he was smirking by the tone of his voice. «Okay.» You licked your lips, biting your lower lip as the memories hit you. «We made love.» «Oh, wow, made love? Please, you’ll talk to me about making love when you’re an elder or something.» You chuckled, too embarrassed to reply with anything else. «So… I guess it was good.» Lando said. «It was out of this planet. It was dizzying, and he was just… perfect.» «Did he make you cum?» he quickly added. «LANDO!» you gaped, eyes bewildered. «’m just asking.» Sitting down on your bed, fingers fidgeting with a loosened thread of the comforter, your thoughts kept swimming in the sea of those recalled moments. You couldn’t help but realize that with Carlos everything had spiraled out of control. From complete strangers to lovers in a week. And the scariest thing to acknowledge was that it felt right, all along. Like puzzle pieces, you fitted seamlessly and now that you both had tangled up, there was no chance of ripping: you would text each other every other hour, hoping new opportunities to hang out together would arise, longing for connection after having discovered your new favorite pastime was looking in the eyes and talk. The mere thought of the proximity you had experienced warmed your cheeks again. «Yes, he did. Multiple times, if you’re interested!» «Weird that you think I’m interested, but okay.» Lando giggled. «Glad to hear you’re happy, though.» «Yeah, I just feel at ease around him.»

The line fell silent for a couple of seconds, giving you time to elaborate the sentence through a soft grin, head lowered. «Gosh, I think I love this man!» «Man? Is he old?» he laughed. «No, he’s just a bit older than me. But he’s so youthful as well! Lan, I’m doomed.» you facepalmed. «Seems like you are, yeah.»

You paused once again, not really sure how to continue the conversation and pondering whether you should add anything in your detailed report to Lando. You heard him humming briefly, signaling he wanted to speak up again. «When… When will you see each other again?» As soon as Lando ended the question, your fingers harshly twisted the thread they had been holding, while you were still looking down at the bed. «I don’t know… he’s busy this week, and I’m coming to Imola with Charles, so definitely not as soon as we’d like.» «Well, you should invite him to Monaco for the Grand Prix, if he’s free. He’s a sportsman, he would enjoy it.» «Invite him so that you can pester him with questions and my whole family can disapprove of both him and me? Or you want us to get caught in a storm of paparazzi and twitter threads of how irresponsible Leclerc’s little defenseless sister is?» Lando tsked and you could almost see his brows knitting in frustration. «Don’t try to steal my job and make it a big deal when things are that simple. You love each other? Yes. Then no one can say a thing. But even if you two were just fucking around, I mean…» he paused. «You should be free to hang out with whoever. It’s nobody’s business.» «It isn’t only about me, Lan… I think he would get in bigger trouble than I would. It seems like in his sport everything is blown out of proportion.» «A man who understands the struggle.» Lando added, bittersweet. «But what is all this secrecy anyway? I don’t trust someone who can’t even tell you what he does for a living.» «Lan, I just could tell he was being honest… Plus, he really looks like an athlete.» «And couldn’t you tell which sport he practices by his body shape?» «No, he’s really fit overall, there’s no prominent feature.» you shook your head. «He told me that he loves cycling, but usually riders have a smaller frame, right? I have no clue, Lan.» «Guess you just love some mystery man, don’t you?» Lando was grinning, you could tell. «Well, I haven’t told him everything about me either, so it’s only fair…» you breathed out. «I’m so scared of his reaction when he finds out about my family…» «You make it sound like you’re the daughter of an Italian mafia boss.» «You know what I mean by that…» «Yeah, I do. And you know that I think it’s silly.» You paused, gaze still down, in reflection. «It’s going to be fine. Stop overthinking, you little muppet.»

>>♥<<

Earphones plugged in, you scrolled through some of the pics you had taken with Carlos on Playa de el Cañuelo only a couple of days earlier. The sand between your toes, the warm breeze, the sun kissing your skin already felt like a thin memory and the moments, the touches you had shared with Carlos desperately ghostly.

Laying in bed at night, the apartment become quieter compared to the chatter of the dinner you had had with your family, you had been unable, despite vainly trying, to keep your mind off your little escapade. You had, therefore, found yourself stumbling upon some stolen shots of him, shirtless, hair wet and shiny, drops of water sliding on his tanned skin. You could anticipate its warmth, because you had felt it; you could almost evoke his fingers tracing your body with gentleness and precision, making you gasp. Loosening your muscles in delight, you swiftly slipped your right hand under your leggings and underwear, giving relief to your core through friction and light touches.

Carlos’ absence had left a void which you found unbearably underwhelming: love-bombing for three days had got you used to his ways, to his constant physical touch – which, you figured, was probably his favorite love language, since he couldn’t stray his hands away from your body – and now that you were laying in a single-size and empty bed, mind full of hopes and desires, you coped as you could, shutting your eyes and trying to reproduce Carlos’ skilled movements with your fingers, gradually increasing the pace, biting your lip as not to let out a single noise. I want you to be louder, baby. You knew that if Carlos were there, he would rub you hard enough to make you cry and beg out loud for more; he would not care of your brothers resting in their rooms only a couple of meters away and he would pay no attention but to you only, sucking on every corner of your breast, down in your inner thighs, leaving a trail of kisses to reach your-

S♥O is calling . . . Decline <-   -> Answer

You nearly yelped as you felt your left hand vibrate because of the call. Heart pounding out of your chest, partly because of the unexpected call, partly because you were in the middle of something, you hurriedly swiped to answer. «Hola, baby!» «Hi.» Carlos, who at first wasn’t looking at the screen in order to get comfortable on a beanbag chair, raised a brow: you had spoken so low your greeting was almost inaudible, your room barely lit by a table lamp. «Why are you whispering?» «My brothers are in the rooms next to mine, I can’t make too much noise.» «Haven’t told them about me yet?» he smirked. «No. They can be a bit protective.» «Well, then tell them not to open their socials on the… 22nd of May.» You frowned, taken aback. «What happens...?» «I talked to my management, and I settled everything for us to go public with our relationship. That weekend I’ll be in Monaco for a competition, so I thought there was no better occasion.»

You stared at the screen, brain racing at two hundred miles an hour: Charles had asked you to be with him for the race, but it didn’t mean you were obliged to stay attached to his hips every single second. And even if you had to skip some sessions, nothing was more deserving of your time than to keep close to Carlos, support him and stick with him in such a delicate moment for him and for you both. It wasn’t even a question. «If you’re okay with it, of course.» Carlos added, an enquiring look on his face. «Uh? Yes! Of course, I mean…» you sighed. «My brother asked for my presence at one of his races but he’s in Monaco too, so I’ll be running to you whenever I can, I promise. I’d desert completely him for you, but I can’t.» «I see.» Carlos nodded small to himself. «He must love you a lot to ask you to be with him every time.» «He’s been pretty insistent since Miami.» you smiled. «Why? Did you bring him good luck?» he smirked, raising a brow. «Hmm… Yeah, kind of.» you said, thinking of the podium picture Lando had sent you with Charles spraying champagne in the background.

Carlos sank deeper into the beanbag sack, keeping silent. «What?» you asked at his reaction, still trying to keep your volume low. «Can’t believe I need to thank him for having met you in Miami.» «Bad thing, uh?» «Yep, because I can just sense that once you introduce me as your boyfriend he’ll turn into a cockblocker.» At first, you giggled at his comic frustration and at the – probably true – assumption he had made; then your attention landed on the deeper meaning of the sentence and lingered on its last word, that had your core throb suddenly. You hadn’t stop slowly and lazily rubbing yourself, almost unconsciously, staring at Carlos spread out on the sack chair, and you definitely found it impossible not to keep touching when he represented such a strong and influential visual clue to your yearning. «Are you good?» Carlos’ voice woke you up from your trance: not sure about what to do or say, feeling once again near your release, you leaned your head on the pillow. «I… Please, don’t judge me.» you whispered in plead. «Of course I won’t. What’s the matter?» «I was… I am…» you bit your lower lip, frowning as you felt the jolt of pleasure approaching. «…masturbating to you. I miss you.» Carlos grinned affectionately at those words, finally able to interpret the subtle twitch of your shoulder he had been quite distracted by all along. «I miss you too, love. And there’s nothing to be ashamed of.» The hoarseness of his voice. Your core clenched around nothing just by him talking. «Are you close?» His tone had turned almost serious, consequently lower; you nodded through whines, at this point quite failing at the proposition of keeping absolutely silent. «Wanted to make a mess on the sheets before even going to bed? Wanted your brothers to walk in on you while screaming my name, uhm? Like you did on the beach while riding my cock, you remember that?» Only a couple of sentences and you were over the edge. You pressed your lips together, keeping your fingers on your clit to enjoy its throbbing and the riding out of your orgasm, wishing it’d never end. «Fuck, I’d like to be there on the bed next to you.» Carlos sighed, almost talking to himself. «Feel better, now?» «Feel amazing.» you breathed out. «I’m really sorry we can’t hang out until next week.» «It’s not your fault, Carlos. We’ll manage.» you reassured him.

As you leaned forward, sitting on the bed and seemingly about to get up, Carlos mimicked you on his beanbag chair. «Do you need to go?» he asked. «I’ll go clean up and then straight to bed.» you smiled. «What about you?» «I wanted to go to bed too, but I think I’ll need to take care of my boner first.» You covered your mouth to prevent your giggles from echoing louder in your room. «Sorry!» «Don’t worry, I was already pretty hard when I saw you in pajamas on the bed, so…» «So?» «So stop teasing me any further!» he laughed. «Good night, y/n.» «Sweet dreams, lover boy.» you joked with a fond smile on your lips.

>>♥<<

Exiting the bathroom after cleaning up, you decided to go grab a glass of water in the kitchen, still flushed by the steam of the situation.

Moving in the dark only helped momentarily by the whitish light of the fridge, knowing every centimeter of the house like the back of your hand, you startled as the light was switched on. «Oh, didn’t see you.» Charles seemed genuinely surprised to find you there, pulling a sheepish smile while getting close to the fridge. «I was thirsty.» you said, taking a sip from your newly filled glass. «Yeah, me too.» he said, grabbing from the fridge the bottle you had just put back in.

You gripped the counter with your free hand, wishing to escape him as soon as possible, but he was quick to pour himself a glass and join you alongside the marble. The glass against your skin felt as cold as the silence falling on you both. Growing embarrassed, you glanced at him, drawing his own interest on you. «Your cheeks are bright red… Are you okay? Do you feel like you have a fever?» As Charles leaned over to you, full of concern and thoughtfulness – too unexpected and unwelcome, if coming from him –, threatening to touch your skin as to prove the temperature of its surface, you flinched backwards, avoiding him. «No, I’m fine! I… Guess I should change the duvet, it’s still the wintery one.» He raised a brow in a quick, frustrated move. «Isn’t it the sunburn?» he asked, sharp. Sunken. Guilt pervaded you, head to toe. «Oh, uhm… No, I don’t think so.» you stood in silence. «Charles, the sunburn was just a lie…» «I know.» On pins and needles, you waited patiently for him to carry on, knowing there was more when he turned around to face you. «Where did you go?» «To Provence, I told you.» you sipped. «You flew off the country.» Charles kept staring at you with a knowing look, waiting for an answer. «Freak, can’t even trust Lorenzo…» you snorted. «He told me he accompanied you to the airport.» «Fine.» you took another sip. «I was in Spain.» Charles nodded to himself. «Did you go with anyone?» «No, I was alone. Last minute decision.» «I see.»

Charles retreated, thoughtful, staring at the bottom of his glass. Had you always been this distant? Had he ever had you closer than this? One step away, about to graze you if he only reached out, and still miles away from each other. Sometimes he wondered if he could’ve done anything not to splinter the relationship between the two of you: instead of blaming himself, he took it out with fate, destiny, whoever had decided that his only passion in life would make him hop on planes all over the world, putting most of his relationships at risk. But what if it had been him all along? What if he could’ve done something to prevent it? What if not keeping in touch with you enough was a burden placed on his shoulders only? «I’m… I’m sorry for what I said, last week. You’re free to choose who to hang out with, but I was frustrated. I never get to see you all often and you deliberately cancelling the rare time I’m here got me mad. Sorry.» «We were both petty. It’s fine, Cha’.» You weren’t his little sister anymore. You had suddenly turned into an adult, and it was unbelievably hard for him to acknowledge that he couldn’t treat you like a baby anymore, that you could have different plans and willing. Separate lives; nothing but a surname, a roof and a hurtful past shared between the two.

Despite Imola not being particularly sunny on Thursday morning, you decided to shield your sight with the sunglasses Carlos had stolen and given back to you in Spain. As if it wasn’t a clear enough sign of your unavailability to pictures, interviews and any type of approach, you kept your eyes glued to the phone engaging in a way more interesting pastime than looking at a crowded paddock.

> I hate it already and I’ve been here for barely ten seconds lol I know, without me any place is boring

You grinned.

> unfortunately true 🥲 > how are things there? crowded and busy my first task begins literally now I’ll text you later ♥      > love you ♥

You huffed, putting your phone down. «Y/n, right?» You scrutinized head to toe the woman dressed in red who had got closer to you, quickly guessing she could be a media manager by the obsessive worry she held her phone with. «Yes.» «Good! Charles asked us to give you a garage tour, so you’ll be joining the one we reserve for our guests, which starts in a few minutes. Please, follow me!»

Annoyed beyond comprehension, wondering why in the world your brother had decided to put you through such a torture – was it vengeance for having missed his family boat day? He was a menace, you had always known. He had told you he was sorry only to let your guards fall down and trick you right after, when you least expected it… –, you followed the staff, carelessly strolling in the back corridor of the box, reaching the garage. Too outraged to notice your surroundings, you paid no attention to the words the woman said (something about waiting for the other VIP guests) and wandered around mindless, gazing at the rows of headsets on the wall, some screens and the cars covered by black sheets. Charles had you trapped in his own hamster wheel: the fact that he liked it wasn’t a good reason to force you in there as well. You knew nothing about driving and you couldn’t care less. Literally, it was a heated discussion topic with Lando as well, because there was nothing attractive to you in risking your life at 300 km/h. Absolutely nothing. Knowing Charles, he had planned your entire day to avoid losing track of you as it had happened in Miami. It wasn’t established in your deal. Little shit.

Still fuming at the thought, carefully intending to search a boutique nearby – if any existed in that God forgotten Italian village – and force him to buy the most expensive dress of the lot, you snatched your sunglasses away, not bearing the thought of them being Charles’. Phone vibrating in your pocket, you grabbed it and glanced at it.

1 new message from S♥O love you too

His words melted your rage like snow under the brightest sun: they warmed your whole chest, making a smile linger on your lips. Hearing people talking and walking into the garage, you raised your eyes from the screen; in the process, you involuntarily locked gaze with someone who seemed to be looking in your direction. And you froze. To be fair, you could tell he had been frozen longer than you had and that, in fact, he had caught your attention exactly because he was already standing still the moment you looked around you in the room. Carlos’ doe eyes were meters away from you, as his body was wrapped in the Ferrari merch you were so used to seeing in your brother’s wardrobe, standing with his phone in his hands, like you were, lips parted in astonishment and confusion.

An unmistakable laugh emerging from the back of the garage together with the flow of new people put you in alarm, which was justified as soon as Charles strolled casually his way into the box: you immediately looked away from Carlos, terrified that small interaction could ever be caught. As if you could slow down your heart thundering in your chest.

«What are you looking at?» Carlos turned his head to Charles, who was leaning on the wall next to him. «Nothing.» Why would you be there? You had a VIP pass hanging around your neck. Maybe you had got it thanks to your brother being a famous athlete… But he couldn’t spot anyone else among the guests around your age who could be your sibling; no one was as beautiful as you, no one even got near your perfection. Did you know? Had you found out he was a F1 driver and decided to surprise him, to confront him? After all, the real mystery was how you hadn’t managed to discover it yet…

«I’m doing the tour, today.» Charles plainly said. «What? You never want to.» Carlos smiled, knitting brows. Looking at his teammate's casual pose, arms crossed and sunglasses on, chewing on a gum, Carlos suddenly realized something; and he wished he could turn around to compare him to you, as doubts and hypotheses sprung in his mind. «Hello, everyone!» But Charles had already gathered and greeted the guests, and Carlos found himself surrounded by mechanics to proceed with the seat fit.

Needless to say, you understood nothing of what Charles said. Hyperaware of your surroundings, you tried to peek at Carlos, who talked to various team people – probably engineers –, then climbed into the cockpit and did checks you couldn’t see the purpose of. Charles occasionally threw dimpled smiles to you while speaking, both hoping to entertain you and getting on your nerves, well knowing you couldn’t pull a tantrum at his workplace. In five minutes, the activity inside the garage died down: Charles had dismissed you all, and you had glimpsed Carlos getting out of the car. «Next, you’ll visit the hospitality. Follow me, this way!» As the same woman you had met earlier gestured to all the guests to form a group behind her, you reluctantly entered the corridor towards the exit, not before glancing back, desperate to see Carlos one last time. You almost gasped as you saw him quickly step towards you, who were then forced to face forward, somehow fearful: you could just feel his silhouette towering yours as he chased you close.

Before you knew it, in the mid of the corridor, he had grabbed your wrist and dragged you inside a small room, shutting the door behind him. What now? You had little to no time to elaborate the situation, to master the catastrophic impact of Carlos being a F1 driver and Charles’ teammate; putting pieces together, the overall picture still had blurry borders and it shook before your sight. In that fraction of eternity – since meeting Carlos seemed to have halted time –, though, locking gaze with him, you realized a deeper truth. He was in front of you, flesh and bones, body and soul. He was the man you had incoherently fallen in love with in such a short amount of time and whom you couldn’t let go. At unison, two listeners tuned into the same radio station and moving to the beat of the same song, you leaned close to each other and you pressed lips upon lips, body upon body. You felt Carlos holding you tight in his embrace, afraid it was only a vision, a fathom, a ghostly appearance, and you clung onto his shoulders stronger to reassure him, since you definitely weren’t planning on withdrawing from his touch.

It took long to stop the kiss and get to talking; somehow, you both were always discovering a new corner of lips you craved to tease, to nibble at, to smother with kisses. Once you felt Carlos’ breath hitch and his movements ceased, as he tried to get your attention in order to speak up, you braced yourself for his words. «Why are you here?» he let out in one breath. «My brother… the  one who’s an athlete…» you inhaled. «That’s Charles.» Carlos spaced out, and you showed him a sympathetic smile while caressing his cheek with fondness. «You’re from Monaco…» «Yep.» you kept brushing his skin, appreciating the smoothness of it, able to guess he might have shaved that same morning. «You were in Miami for the race, weren’t you?» You nodded in small movements, waiting for his reaction. «But like, how didn’t you recognize me? Did you pretend not to know?» «I told you I never went to Charles’ races. I’m not interested in F1, I’ve never watched it on tv…» «At least I know it wasn’t a lie, then…» he leaned his head back, sighing.

There was no way of hiding the hint of fear you felt while biting your lip, examining Carlos’ expressions as they changed rapidly. Through it all, though, he never retreated from your touch, keeping you tight in his arms. «What a mess…» he muttered under his breath. «He can’t say a thing, it’s not up to him to decide who I’m dating-» «Y/n, there are… dynamics that you can’t understand. It’s much more than an overprotective-brother matter.» «Then what is it?» «Y/n!» Carlos shut his eyes in annoyance as he heard his teammate, your brother, searching and calling for you. «Y/n? Guys, did you see my sister?» In mutual agreement, you stared at each other while reluctantly loosening the embrace; taking a sharp breath in, Carlos then placed his hand on the knob and opened the door. «She was being nosy in the strategy room. She said she got lost.» Without paying too much attention to Carlos’ justifying words, Charles only addressed you. «Go reach Arthur and mom, we’re having lunch at the hospitality together.» You simply nodded, regretfully walking out the garage without sparing a last glance at Carlos, who was then leaning against the door frame. As the Spaniard was about to follow you and exit the box too since his duties were carried out, he felt a hand wrap and drag his arm to prevent him from leaving. «Y/n is my sister.» Carlos tried to play it cool and smirked. «I didn’t know anything about her.» «And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to always be.» Charles stepped closer to Carlos, never letting his smile falter. «Don’t get near her.» Something about his eyes, despite the attempt of coming off as friendly, something feral, almost murderous struck Carlos and left his heart blue, aware that there was nothing he could possibly do to change Charles’ disposition towards him. At the same time, however, he had to restrain himself from barking at his teammate: Carlos had sisters himself and had experienced protectiveness towards them, but he had never gatekept their existence from the entire world as Charles had done with you. He had never seen a picture of you, never known a younger Leclerc was part of the family… Cutting you off from his passion and his job only to then plead you to be a part of his life back again and suddenly dragging you around the world was simply selfish. He could tell why you would always tense up whenever you mentioned your arguments and your lacking relationship with him, and if you knew on which terms Carlos and Charles were, maybe you would’ve backed him up. Maybe you would’ve picked his side instead of Charles’, as everyone else did.

No one could deny how much Charles was the most liked, protected and favored driver out of the Ferrari pair, and this partiality unluckily showed through divisions inside the team, which no one dared speak about. Mechanics, media staff, engineers: Charles had to be cherished like a baby prince, able to obtain anything, keeping people’s hearts wrapped around his fingers, to the point he could throw ultimatums and threat to leave the team and gain, in turn, the dismissal of a team principal with a favorable replacement. 

Deep down, Carlos knew it was no one but Ferrari’s fault, with the team who had let Charles progressively identifying with the team until losing him would have a tremendous negative impact on the brand, and most of all everyone relied on him for the title championship’s fight without even considering any other person. They had made him too important, and now they couldn’t afford to lose him, even if this meant sacrificing their other driver. They had already signed Hamilton before the season had even started. And that Charles himself didn’t like Carlos much, well, signs were between the lines, for the ones who could read them properly. He had beaten Charles in the end of the first year as teammates, though people seemed to forget it. He had secured the only win of the team in the 2023 season, and had replicated it triumphantly in Australia. What did he have to do to shine as bright? What did he have to do to be… chosen?

>>♥<<

You waited in the interstice between Ferrari and McLaren’s hospitalities, barely hid in the shadow, sunglasses purposely on to avoid crossing gaze with the crowd walking up and down the paddock. Carlos had texted you, saying he would reach you as soon as lunch with the team would be over; on your hand, you had finished eating quite early since you felt no big appetite, sickened by a pounding question. Had you rushed things with Carlos? The question left your mouth dry, your hands clammy. He had seemed too hesitant, too fearful, and at first too slow to commitment, always managing to pull out excuses as to why he wasn’t ready to go public. What if it had been a fleeting moment? But how could all of it be a lie? Lying in the sand, limbs intertwined, giggling and whispering slices of life to each other as the sun set down.

A sigh revealed Carlos’ presence aside you. «I’m going to be brief. Things between me and Charles are a mess, when it comes to dynamics within the team. It’s not even hate, it’s way more subtle than that…» «It’s competition.» «Unfair competition.» he spatted. «He knows the team will always back him up, whereas I’m currently without a seat for next year.» You shot your wide opened eyes to him. «What?» «I was negotiating the renewal when they suddenly announced another driver they had been in contact with for quite a long time. The team told me nothing.» You passed a frustrated hand on your face, trying to wash away mental fog. «You don’t want Charles to be on your tail more than he is now, I guess.» «I don’t want him to force you to choose either him or me.» he stared at you. «Because you can’t help choosing him.» «No! I don’t care about him if this is the way he treats people! And why would you assume I wouldn’t choose you? I…» You halted after suddenly noticing your hands were now resting on his chest; maybe too much of an intimate gesture, but delicate enough to soften Carlos’ expression, sewed with pain. «You?» «Y/n!» You stepped back abruptly, before even turning around to see who was searching for you with such a greeting, before Lando’s curly locks bounced over to you. «Oh, Carlos!» the Brit smiled sheepish. ��Do you two… know each other?» A F1 driver recognizing you right away with sunglasses on and cheering you as if nothing happened, only to be clearly surprised and slightly embarrassed locking gaze with him. Math wasn’t mathing.

Carlos smiled, genuinely curious as to why his old teammate had approached you – or tried to, before noticing the presence of a third wheeler – so confidently when, according to you and your brother’s words, no one in the paddock knew a thing about you. «No, not really. She is a VIP guest Charles asked me to treat good. Probably a friend of his.» Carlos grinned. «Do you know each other?» You could tell by the tone that the question, though his eyes were on Lando, was actually directed at you as well, and you could easily imagine the confusion and the frustration reigning in Carlos’ head. «Uhm, yeah.» Lan said, unsure. «We’re friends.»

>>♥<<

The knob clicked closed behind you. It had been a long day: trying not to show your inner turmoil, trying not to think about him too much, trying to make sense of the situation that had formed before your eyes in the span of a morning.

we need to talk i'll let you in my hotel room, i'm at the same floor charles is 8.30

You glanced at every clock your eyes could spot, compulsively checking the time on your phone’s screen, always managing to forget it and therefore forced to take a look again. Hours drew longer and longer as the moment approached, they projected shadows on your thoughts, dark and frightening.

Clearing your throat, you knocked on his door lightly and it surprised you when you felt it retreat from your touch almost immediately, opening. You quickly shuffled inside, hoping not to be seen by anyone in the corridor. Carlos vaguely glanced at you, as you could tell he was deep in thought. Not sure what to start with, you grabbed his hands, fidgeting with his fingers so that you keep your head low staring at them. «How does Lando know you?» «We met in Monaco without knowing that… that he was him and I was me. We became friends before Charles could even find out.» «And how was Charles okay with it, given his “no sister” policy with us drivers?» «I guess he couldn’t do much, at that point. But Lan told me that he had to swear he wouldn’t say a word about me.» «The only secret he was ever able to keep.» Carlos scoffed. «It had to be the most precious girl, of course.» You raised your eyes at him. «What do we do now?» Carlos didn’t answer, choosing to enjoy the silence and draw you near with his arm; he let you adjust in the hug, as you wrapped his waist, while he left a kiss on your head. That shower of love reminded you how much you had longed for his presence; despite being hundreds of kilometers away from home, you still somehow felt in the right place. You knew what Carlos was about to say. Yet, his words came late, choosing to settle in the embrace a little more, adjusting just so that he could wrap you tighter and fit perfect. «Charles can’t know.» You shut your eyelids close, inhaling deeply. Embarking in a secret relationship wasn’t on the plan, weeks earlier. Neither was Carlos. >>♥<< His fingertip traced your skin, removing unwanted strands of hair out of your face, watching you sleep in his arms with a tender smile. He let his digit draw soothing lines on your forehead, willing to undo its knit. It wasn’t going to be easy on any of you, lying to half world. And yet, no other choice was left.

«Did you save me as “so” because it stands for “significant other”?» Your cheek inseparable from the comforting warmth of his chest, you eyed up at him, irises glinting with amusement.

Carlos had invited you in his changing room inside Ferrari’s hospitality in order to chill and relax a bit before FP3 in Monaco. You were surprised to see there wasn’t a lot of space, forced to lay on a small couch. «Where did you learn that?» «Internet, of course.» he said, matter-of-factly. «What, did you search the short form of “smooth operator”?» Giggling, you threw another jokingly glance at him, noticing his brain gears moving as he spaced out. «I never realized…», he shifted his gaze on you, «until now.» Willing to get closer, you flipped around and climbed upwards, resting your hands on his broad chest, still smiling at him. «You’re my so, in every way.» You left a quick peck on his soft lips, biting your own in awe, admiring how lost he seemed. «So?» «So.» you tenderly brushed your nose against his. «It’ll be my secret code for you, from now on.» «I want it to be a secret code for me too.» Carlos’ lips curled in a pensive pout, while you couldn’t stop yourself from leaving another peck on them, slower this time, but still feather-like. «Then, you’re my… Sexy Owner?» You both burst out laughing. «What? It’s true, you’re both sexy and you own me.» «I don’t own you, Carlos.» you eye rolled, still grinning. «But we own each other.» he firmly grabbed your waist, as you still laid comfortable over him. «Or at least I own you, according to what you said last night…» The light pat he gave on your bun, paired up with his breath fanning on your neck triggered a cheerful chuckle in you. «What about Sweet Oath?» You looked back at him. «An oath?» «An oath of love. That’s why it’s sweet.» «You’re the one being sweet.»

Exchanging another small kiss, you got startled as Carlos’ alarm went off to warn him about the light training he was meant to do before free practice. «Never lasts long enough.» he grunted, leaving another kiss on your lips. «Are we hanging out tonight?» you asked, climbing off him reluctantly to let him go. «Maybe right after qualifying. I need to attend a dinner with sponsors.» «Business nights, uh?» He grinned, as you both stood up. «Be careful when you exit the room. Wait here a few minutes.» «Good luck.» «It’s just free practice.» he grinned.

After he had closed the door, you sat back again on the red pillowed coach, taking a closer look to the furniture: a painting with both Carlos and his father; a Spanish flag, to which you smiled reminded of the trip to Playa de el Cañuelo; the white varnish of the wardrobe. That small corner of Monaco was dressed in Carlos' clothes as the only fortress of freedom in a country so foreign to him and so dearly close to you. The thought that he'd be living in Monaco too pretty soon and that seeing each other wouldn't be a problem through his off season quickened your heartbeat. Your love was growing fast, faster than anyone racing in those streets.

Hearing nothing but stillness outside the room, you opened the door and got out without suspicion, ready to go downstairs. «Y/n?» Struck, you stopped and raised your gaze, who was following your feet's movement. Lorenzo. He was in the guests’ area of the second floor, phone in hand, staring right in your direction. «Yes?» Fuck, you knew he had seen you. You could read it in his face, in the way the brows wrinkled his forehead, in the unsure tone he had used to call you, in the slow steps he made towards you. He halted, pausing to place his phone back in the pocket. «All good?» «Yes, just need to use the restroom real quick.» He nodded small as a sign to let you go. Confirmed, he had noticed. He knew you were lying.

>>♥<<

Waving back to fans behind the pitlane fence as a form of greeting and thanking, Charles rushed back inside the garage. The love he received in Monaco was comparable to nothing else. Walking those streets, getting to drive them and own an entire country, wrapped around his fingers, was quite the power at such a young age. Still, Charles didn’t feel pressure from it, nor the need of controlling or maintaining it: when you’re comfortably in the lead, you only see the road ahead and you don’t focus on the position you’re in.

Entering the box, searching for Andrea, Charles didn’t expect to find you engaged in a conversation with his teammate. About F1. «… and they could undercut us.» «Undercut? What does that mean?» Watching Carlos talk and gesture data on a screen, hearing his words half eaten up by the noise of the mechanics cleaning the garage, Charles didn’t stray his stare once. The way his hand lingered on the small of your back, almost without touching it but still hovering on you like a magnet's pole meeting one of the same sign, not able to make contact and yet forcing proximity, pressed an emergency button in Charles' brain. And even more so, as you gazed intently at the screen, willing to follow the Spaniard's explanations. Because when you’re in the chase, the subordinate position you’re in never ceases to pound in your head as the deadliest sin.

Before he could even prevent himself, Charles was already walking towards you with hands stuffed down into his loose sweatpants. «This is why in case of safety cars it's best to-» «Pit so no one undercuts you. Right, Carlos?» He knew. Inside his eyes, Charles could read annoyance for the interruption, as he saw your attention shifting from Carlos to himself. «Why are you guys talking about undercut? What did I miss?» «Carlos was teaching me some stuff on strategies, since I had some questions.» «You? Questions on strategy?» Charles scoffed, almost jokingly. «And why didn't you ask me instead?» «Because Carlos is a great teacher.» you grinned. «And he was the only one available.» Two bullets shot at once. A glint, the fastest and subtlest, flashed in Carlos' dark irises, bright enough to catch Charles' attention. Neither of them was keen on the idea of losing, but if there was anything Charles didn't want to be won over was a stranger engaging with you and getting your undivided attention better than he had ever done himself. He couldn't bear anyone winning you. «So?» The angles of your mouth curved in a smile unconsciously, hearing that secret code escape Carlos’ lips with such a teasing tone; and it tasted even sweeter when Charles decided to simply walk away, answering nothing to the cruel evidence.

White and black waved at the cross line, as a red car flew on the straight. The jewel had been caste onto his long due awaited Prince’s crown: Charles had won in Monaco. Emotion brimmed in every pair of eyes you met. First Lorenzo, then Pascale hugging you up, you stared at the screen and tried to make sense of your brother’s team radio being broadcasted, while you tried not to lose Carlos out of sight through the wide window giving you a majestic glimpse of the Principality. You all ran downstairs, flooding the pitlane to welcome the winner, to see his fist brought up to the sky, to hear the screams and cheers muffled by his helmet, to release your breath as soon as Charles sighed in relief too.

As you followed his red suit launching into the mechanics crowd, you swallowed hard at the scene, Charles ruffling Arthur’s hair and hugging each other with joy. It was less than a couple of meters away from you, and yet it felt like joy was a matter only to be shared between them, as if that win they so much ached for was only meant to drown you down in a painful defeat.

Charles eyed you behind Ferrari’s president Elkan but didn’t linger on you much, swamped by other people congratulating him; Carlos, instead, embracing the man who was unconsciously guarding you from the track – said Elkan –, he took the opportunity to make a deep eye contact. You noticed he must be tired or bothered by thoughts too, and if only cameras weren’t capturing every single second of the happy chaos filling the boulevard, you would’ve leaned in to leave a kiss on those soft, plump lips of his.

>>♥<<

«I know you might disagree, but… Today was a really special day for Charles and it’d be great if you could join the celebrations tonight, with him. With us.» Your mother hummed to Lorenzo’s words, glancing at you to check your reaction, which was more than slow to show. «Charles, a-and Arthur as well, would be so happy to have us all together, like the family we are.» The family you were. You stood in silence, eyes purposefully avoiding theirs not to dwell on that unhappy phrasing, carefully pondering and recalling the brief conversation you and Carlos had barely managed to hold after the podium celebration back in his small room inside the hospitality, easily hiding when the full attention was placed on Charles. There’d probably be a celebration of P3 too. «Dad would’ve liked it as well.» Pascale added. And what then? Wouldn’t a chance to see Carlos be more than enough to set resentment and old rotten feelings aside? «Yes.» Lorenzo agreed, lowering his head. «Where is he partying?» you asked, monotone. «How come where? At Jimmy’z, of course.» Your eyeroll was accompanied by a sharp inhale, regretting already the resolution you had just formed. «I’ll go home as soon as I’m tired or bored.» «Are you really coming?» Lorenzo asked surprised, as if he had just made peace with the fact you would turn the invitation down. «But of course! You can go home whenever you feel like it, since we’ll probably stay up very late… You’ll make him happy just by being present for five minutes.» «Don’t give me ideas I wouldn’t hesitate to put into work.» you said, teasingly. Pascale grinned wide, sincerely glad to have all the Leclerc’s on the same page – quite a novelty, lately. «Good! Do you need help choosing your dress? Styling your hair, maybe?» «No, mom, I’m fine. I can manage.» «Okay, I see… Always the self-made woman!»

>>♥<<

The shiver and the adrenaline coursing through your blood as soon as you put foot in the club inevitably sprung a smirk upon your lips. You knew it was a mistake, and still, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for it. You, Carlos and your brother dancing and getting wasted in the same room.

You had felt it right as you posed against the Jimmy’z cardboard next to Charles for some family shots, it was in the nice breeze travelling down your skin: you knew it was on you, and you only flashed smiles to the camera because you were aroused by that thought. Carlos’ stare. It told you everything you needed to know as soon as it found you among the crowd and rested on you; his eyelids had widened in surprise, while he frowned, worry and concern concealed by a layer of undeniable excitement. In that quick exchange of looks, it was made painfully obvious to both of you that staying away from each other would be a challenging task, almost impossible, if only Charles’ delightful expression wouldn’t haunt your sight left and right.

«Lando! Lan, congrats, bae!» you slurred, lacing your arms around his neck. «Thanks, babe! I wasn’t on the podium, but I appreciate.» he laughed. He then paused and checked you out with smiling eyes, trying to interpret your weirdly affectionate state. «Who did you get all this cute and worked up for?» «Uh?» Lando had to repeat the question through the loud cheers of Charles’ friends near you. «Whose heart are you trying to steal being this giggly and adorable?» Eyes bored deep into his, suppressing a smile biting your lower lip, you faked the purest honesty and innocence of mind. «No one’s.» Your hidden mischief didn’t go unnoticed to Lando, who nonetheless decided to let it slide off his mind, letting his gaze wander in the packed floor. «Want to dance?» His quick request caught you off guard, making you turn around to him with a puzzled expression. You had barely even realized his hand was resting friendly on your naked shoulder, his fingers squeezing it gently as to silently repeat the offer. «Yes, sure!» Lando vibed to the beat, taking small sips while flashing smiles at you: he could see you were having fun and definitely not sparing any ounce of energy, letting your hair sway left and right to the rhythm. Until, a flash. Behind you, in the sea of dancing bodies, he had caught someone flicking his eyes on you. Lando decided to take another sip, considering it wouldn’t be unusual for people to notice you. But then it struck again, and he managed to catch the person’s face. «What’s wrong?» you half-screamed at Lando, trying to make yourself be heard. «Nothing, thought I saw someone I know.» He then brushed your arm lightly. «I’ll come back in a second.»

>>♥<< Drink in hand – an unnecessary one, since you were already quite tipsy, but absolutely required to argue with Arthur like lords far from the dancing chaos – you reasoned out loud that the only good thing about Jimmy’z was the music. He chuckled in agreement, taking a sip. «The venue is cool, though, don’t you think?» he asked. «Would be better off without those naked girls flashing everyone.» «They’re not naked!» Arthur smugly replied. «But I see why you’re not interested.» «Are you?» you asked, disgusted. «I mean…» You scoffed at his collected reticence. «C’mon, don’t play the goody two shoes! I bet you wouldn’t complain if it was a sixpack on full display.» «But I don’t want to be flashed every single second. I’m not always in the mood, you know?» you teased, placing your gaze back to the crowd. Arthur kept staring at you, raising a brow and pulling a knowing smile. «Oh, really?» «Yes.» «Then why have you been dancing like crazy all over Lando while wearing your revenge dress?» You looked at him, genuinely puzzled. «Revenge dress?» «This is the dress you wore the night after breaking up with that dickhead of your ex-boyfriend when we partied at Buddha’s. It’s the “partying ‘til I forget my name” sexy dress.» The realization made you laugh uncontrollably hard, spitting out the sip you had taken back into the glass and obliging you to lean on Arthur’s arm for support. Of course, you couldn’t refrain from laughing long enough to let your brother know how drunk you actually were, how unstable you seemed to be on your high heels and how difficult it would be to let you go back home alone in that state.

While gripping Arthur’s arm tight for support, a trail movement at the back of the room perked your interest, and you were quick to see a group of people walking towards the VIP room, amongst which you easily spotted Charles – under his unmistakable Monaco flag – and, to your dismay, Carlos. You flung yourself away from Arthur, rushing to the VIP room door before they could reach it, dodging waiters and bodies dancing around, trying your best not to twist your ankle in the process; ignoring Carlos’ widening irises, you grabbed the shuffling flag away from Charles’ head and bore your eyes into his. «What are you doing?» you asked. «We wanted to go inside-» «I want to come in!» you pouted. Charles, already quite wasted, stared at you, seemingly unable to make sense of your weird request. He’d always thought you didn’t like the VIP room, he had it clear; still, your fingers gripping his shirt and your eyebrows knitted in plead were unequivocal signs of protest in utter contradiction with the past. It didn’t even cross his mind why he would ever deny you the access when he had, in fact, waited for you to get closer to him and join him since the very beginning. Since forever. He would always have to see you party with your friends in other clubs, purposely avoiding the one he was in, just so that you couldn’t meet him. It was a no brainer for him to giggle at you and ruffle your hair with a drunk smile, heart swelling with pride and happiness. «Of course, let’s go!»

The shades of the dim lights were blue and red, creating nice purple shadows on the black leathered couches, on the uncountable glasses placed on the coffee table, on the features of everyone sitting around you. Shameless, you couldn’t help but focus your entire attention onto seducing Carlos from across the table: index tracing the edge of your cup, taking sips from the straw while looking straight into him, crossing your legs so that the thin fabric of your dress would expose even more of your thighs. An ineffable pleasure hit you when you noticed the gleam in his dark eyes. He was hooked. You had seen him seeking relief from the heat creeping on his body, pulling away from his neck the tight-fitting shirt with a finger, shifting in his seat, first leaning over with his forearms on the thighs in order to desperately get involved in the conversation and avoid staring at you for an unreasonable amount of time, then ultimately giving up, crashing his back onto the back of the couch, manspreaded. Useless to say you fell into his trap. His smug smirk, half-lidded eyes, warned you he had very well noticed your reaction; catching you staring was the sweetest revenge, but still let him unsatisfied. He had to swipe the palm of his sweaty hands onto his trousers and swallow hard, as he watched you drink your thirst away and diverge gaze, before one of you could call out the shitshow and drag the other out of the club to finally have what you both wanted, touch starved.

Luckily for you, nobody at the table had picked up on the intense and mutual riling up competition you had started: except for Lorenzo. His eyes had followed Carlos’ body spreading wide on the couch and his clear arousal after feasting on your poses all night. Lorenzo hadn’t missed the way you had bit your lower lip, immediately taking a long sip of your drink, visibly affected by the exchange of looks with Carlos. Before he could process it any further, you abruptly popped standing up. «I’m going dancing!» Not that anyone really followed you; Charles, as well as all his friends, were deep in conversation – or, at least, drunkenly attempting to – digging up the past and cherishing the incredible victory achieved.

Carlos turned his head around, unable to stop following your silhouette everywhere like a sunflower chases the brightest star in the galaxy: you were that charming to him, that dear. «Carlos, what about you?» Carlos’ head snapped back to the table, breath almost audibly hitched, wide eyes placed on Lorenzo who had been the one to address him. He hadn’t heard the question, because he had been too caught up admiring the way your hips would sway to the rhythm, tracing imaginary lines on your neck, along your collarbone, done to the neckline of your dress… Fuck. «Sorry, I spaced out for a second. What was the question?» He knew Lorenzo hadn’t bought it, it was written in bold letters, between the lines, but Carlos acknowledged he had decided to let it drop for the moment, and he was, obviously, relieved. «How do you feel about the podium?»

You were stoked. You had rarely ever experienced such a high in your years spent in the most exclusive clubs of Monaco, and you could just feel everything was incredible: the blasting music, the drinks, the company. It was the first time you had joined clubbing with all your brothers together, and it hadn’t gone south as you had always expected to. Deep down, though, you couldn’t fake it was probably due to someone else’s presence getting your family off your mind and preventing you from focusing on anything and anyone.

He was still sitting on the couch, briefly talking to the others, but he always managed to peek at you amongst the crowd. You found the perfect hiding spot for your improvised dancing performance to Carlos behind the back of what seemed to be a guy about your age. It allowed you to momentarily disappear from his sight just enough to keep him searching for you, returning a wicked smile whenever he would small grin at you. «Are you good, mate?» Charles’ giggle alarmed Carlos once again, obliging him to nod at his teammate. «You sure? You seem a little… tense.» The chuckles and the laughter bursting from Charles’ side of the table didn’t please the Spaniard, making him rather confused. «I’m fine, actually.» They both stared at each other, Charles’ eyes sparkling in drunkenness and mischief, still smirking with both dimples on display. «I have a gift for you, Carlos.» Carlos gulped as soon as he saw Charles’ fingers gesturing as to bring something next to the table; the green eyes still fixed on him, Carlos tried to free himself from whatever was to come, reassuring Charles on the fact that if anyone needed gifts, well, that was the winner of the Grand Prix, not the third classified. «But Carlos! You aren’t turning down my gift, are you?» he said. «Because in that case, you know what they say… Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?» Charles leaned back onto the couch, resting his arm on the top. Carlos tried to throw a last glance at you, not able to find you in the swaying sea of bodies, but as soon as he had turned his head over the dance floor, he had seen the ‘gift’ approaching, and his lips parted in surprise. And disgust. One of the many dancers hired for the VIP room, hanging around and serving tables with little to no clothes on, climbing the small three steps separating the table from the dance floor. «Never look in the mouth, but… you can take a great look at everything else.» Charles smirked wide, enjoying the embarrassment and the amused commotion he had created between his friends. As the woman took a step closer to Carlos knees, he was quick to halt her lascivious moves by standing up, driven by madness at how clearly Charles had planned it only to cause a scene and enjoy how he would entangle away from such a predicament, well knowing he couldn’t act on the rage coursing in his heated blood. Carlos’ mouth went completely dry, despite the drinks he had had in order to forget he was sitting in the lions’ cage and hideously having to socialize with people who despised him as much as he did. To forget that you were the sister of that bratty, annoying, childish prince of Monaco.

Carlos darted his eyes to Charles, fingers clenching into a fist, desperately trying not to give in and offer the reaction everyone awaited as to get him to be kicked out from the club. A shatter of glass interrupted Carlos’ trail of thoughts, making him turn his head to the noise coming from the dance floor. He noticed a waitress’ tray had crashed and wetted the floor, right above the stairs next to their table, as you rushed excuses and apologies to the girl.

Carlos was about to walk down and help you getting out of the embarrassment only to get rid of his own, but he needed no further convincing the moment he saw a pair of hands grab your waist from behind, drawing you close to his body. It was a young guy, the same you had used as a shield in the crowd, who had ultimately turned around and noticed your dancing, mistakenly thinking you were addressing him with those moves and not your boyfriend sat meters away.

«What’s your name, sweetheart?» It had escalated the moment you had tried to reach Carlos both to sneak away from the unrelenting advances and to shoo away the unwanted presence of one of the dancers near your man. «Where do you think you’re going? We haven’t had fun yet!» He had spun you around grabbing your shoulder, quick to press his body onto yours; out of fear, disgust and panic, you had pushed yourself away from him with all your might, tumbling backwards on your heels and hitting the waitress. «Leave me alone!» Carlos needed no more. His eyes renewed with fire, in no time he had reached you and had snatched those foreign, dirty hands away from you. «Are you deaf? Leave.» No matter how loud the music was, you could feel Carlos’ low voice echoing in your chest, vibrations reaching your stomach: you hadn’t been that close to him all night and his sudden presence daunted you all at once. «What? Who are you to tell me what to do?» A couple of friends of the guy backed him up, as Carlos smiled out of utter disbelief and fury. You wrapped his wrist tight, hoping to hold him back in the unknown propositions you knew he might be harboring. «Someone who could get you out of this country in less than two minutes.» You turned around, surprised to see Charles dismiss the jovial and light-hearted grin he had worn all night to put on a devilish smile, his green irises concealing a hint of madness. Carlos had wiggled out of your hold, scared that your brother could notice it, as you both stared at Charles with curiosity and bewilderment. «Maybe three, if you leave immediately and forget to come here for the rest of your life.» he added, looking down at his Richard Mille.

Peeking behind their backs, the ridicule group gulped noticing a group of bodyguards approaching. Charles flashed them back with the smile of someone who has the entire world wrapped around his fingers and manages to win it all. Still, glancing back at you, he felt no power, no control. Lorenzo had approached you and was making sure you were okay, hands grabbing your arms delicately. Carlos, who had stepped in first, didn't allow Lorenzo to take care of you alone, and stood close to you, worry painted in his eyes. And what had Charles done? What had he done for you? He hadn't even noticed you were in danger. He was so focused on himself, on the mischief he had reserved for his teammate. It was the first time you were partying together and he had left you out of his conversations, his laughs, his memories' sharing, to the point you had gone dancing alone to find the company he hadn't given you.

Charles' head started buzzing, mental fog clouding his actions. He stared at you, lost, eyes glinting in drunkenness. «I'll ask Arthur to bring you back home, okay?» Lorenzo said to you. «I'll give her a ride.» Like a magnet, your eyes flew to Carlos right as he spoke. Your brother looked at him with an inquiring look, not sure why Charles' teammate would ever consider himself adequate for the task. «You guys should all stay here and celebrate together.» Carlos smiled. «I was about to leave too.» «Well, then... Thank you, Carlos.» Lorenzo grinned while Charles blinked through the interaction without grasping the meaning, which was brutally revealed as Carlos put his hand on the small of your back and escorted you towards the exit of the VIP room. And you were gone. Again.

>>♥<<

Unbeknownst to you, inside the VIP room you had kept rather quiet, experiencing a moment of down after having drunk that much. After dancing it out and getting your adrenaline levels up with the incident, stepping back into the main floor of Jimmy'z, swamped by the overwhelming heat, you had to get a good grip on Carlos' shoulder not to lose balance. «Hey, are you good?!» Aaaand you fell. Of course. Pouting and whining, you did what Carlos hoped you didn't: throw a drunk tantrum. «I don't want to leave!» He sighed, picking you up from the ground with ease and making sure you'd stand on your own. «Be a good sister and obey your brother, huh?» «I'd only obey... you.» and with your pointer finger on his chest, you smirked at him. «Then let's go home.» «Ughh, you're no fun! I want to stay!» «Is everything okay?» The voice signaled the approaching of Lando, fast enough to take an apprehensive look at you. As soon as Carlos met the Brit’s eyes, a wave of comfort washed over him. «She's drunk and I've been told by her brothers to bring her home...» Lando raised a brow at you suddenly hugging Carlos and complaining in slurred sentences. «But she doesn't want to.» Carlo sighed, defeated. «Need help?» «Yep. Much needed.» «Y/n!» Escorted out of the club by the two of them at your sides, you only remembered getting in the passengers' seat of Carlos' car, while Lando showed him the way to your house from the backseat, with his elbow leaning just above your headrest. Thighs pressed on the luxurious leather of the Ferrari’s seat, you let out a giggle out of nowhere, not sure what was making you happy: your best friend's presence paired up with the love of your life's seemed enough.

>>♥<<

«'Right, let's get you some fresh clothes.» Lan moved quickly towards your wardrobe, knowing exactly where to search for a pair of shorts and a plain bedtime shirt. Carlos, while following his movements, flipped you upwards, since you had fallen onto the bed like a dead weight facing the mattress. «Here!» Lando joined Carlos, staring at you with a sigh. «She can't put them on herself, I guess.» «No, I don't think she can.» «So… how do we do?» Carlos reached for the hem of your top without a second thought, well used to the feeling of your warm skin on his fingers while sliding clothes off of you; spreading wide your rosy cheeks with a smile, you settled for his touches, complying to the well-practiced duet, sure it was the right reward after a night of mutual pining. It seemed like Lando's presence wasn't relevant enough, or at least it didn't cause any second thought on proceeding with the stripping down before his eyes. You raised your arms, teasingly, waiting for Carlos to remove your top, which he did, leaving you only with your bra on and your high-waisted shorts. «Give me the shirt.» Lan handed it to him, furrowed eyebrows, examining carefully Carlos' moves. Smirking, you laced your arms around his neck and strived to leave a kiss on his cheek, but suddenly aware of the Brit’s stare, Carlos gave him a sheepish smile, placing a hand on your back as you didn't unglue yourself from him. «Where’s my goodnight kiss?» Lando, brows knitted and batting eyelashes quickly, examined the careful yet tender smile blooming on Carlos’ lips after your drunk request, followed by the peck he left on your forehead. Melting under the touch, you cuddled back in bed, grinning wide like a child, while the two drivers silently switched off the lights and exited the room.

Firing up the engine, the revving noise of Ferrari’s horsepower covered partially the few words escaping Lando’s lips as a reflex of a realization. «It’s you, isn’t it?» «What?» «You’re her boyfriend. You’re the guy she met in Miami.» The sky had fallen silent, though the streets of Monaco shone and the pavement brimmed with people strolling by in search of fun. Carlos glanced briefly at Lando, who was still staring and expecting an answer; then, gripping the steering wheel, he focused back on the road, unconsciously smiling. «Is it that obvious?» «I mean…» Lan gulped, avoiding gaze. «She was trying to kiss you, what other confirmation do I need?» The smile spread wide, uncontainable at this point, fueled by the memory of the cute and clingy behavior you had shown off in front of both himself and Lando. The ride kept silent for a while, as the Brit studied Carlos’ collected calm concealed under a sweating, hot body, veins in his arms popping out the tanned skin. «She told me you were pretty secretive about it all.» «Well, I didn’t want to rush her into a crazy public relationship full of formalities.» he stopped at a traffic light. «But if you really want to know, I had planned on going public next week.» «It sounds like you won’t.» «Because we can’t.» «Why not?» Lando turned to face him. Carlos gripped the steering wheel harder and stared back at the traffic light. «Charles.» «Charles what?» «Told me to stay away from her.» he accelerated, seeing the green light. «And don’t tell me “Fuck that”, because you know I’m in no position to. I’m sure that if he wanted, he could convince the team to drop me mid-season.» «Well, I see. It sucks.» «Yeah.» Pensive for a few turns of Monaco, Lando was quick to speak up again. «But isn’t love stronger than anything else?» «You can’t make a living out of love and carelessness, you know?» «I’m just saying that… She loves you a lot.» «I do too.» «I think… I think she would give up on Charles, for you.» «I don’t want her to sacrifice anything or anyone for me, let alone her loved ones.» «Need to throw up, after this.»

Carlos had asked you to sleep in his hotel room without too much thought; as a quite established couple, though hiding it, he just wanted to put his arms around you and feel your body heaving by his side, especially on weekends in which the tension upon his shoulder started to take a toll on him. The negotiations with Williams and Audi going south; the relationship with Charles wearing thin; the team starting to gatekeep the car development and excluding him from some technical feedback. Some days he only wanted to take a deep breath in and exhale loudly, in silence, searching for inner peace; he figured it would be easy with your sparkly presence next to him. He hadn’t anticipated seeing the situation affecting you as much. With a hand resting on your stomach, he could feel your heartbeat quicken and your breath being sharp and irregular. Even though you were both supposed to be sound asleep, the room already drowned in darkness, he could tell you were fighting your fears, your imagination running wild in open fields he knew nothing of. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, soothingly, you curled up, to become smaller and smaller, to take less space, and Carlos matched your movements pulling you closer to him.

In the morning, watching you offer him a coffee inside the hospitality with the brightest smile, he’d be left wondering: which vulnerable side you were both trying to show and conceal to his awareness. And when you cuddled in his changing room, he’d be willing to ask and address it but then stopped as you fidgeted with his fingers, delaying the answer, inevitably discouraging him from pursuing the truth. Still, whenever the two of you hid from the world to build a fort of intimacy and love - whichever place you’d find the most fitted to your hot-blooded desires: cramped in his changing room, late night sessions on the desk of the strategy department, making out in the backseat of a media van with tinted windows -, he could read the intense, swamping need of putting worries to sleep, he could taste it on your lips, on your collarbone, and he could sense it in the sweet scent of your hair, an implicit beg for freedom from an unknown chain. Through each breath, in each moan you let out, Carlos could hear faint pleads, a soft voice praying for him not to ask, not to speak, not to remind you, not to ruin the magic of the moment.

Carlos had, indeed, good reasons to think something beneath the surface was unsettling you. You felt it too, during the shared flight with your brothers; and then while stepping foot back again in the land which had brought so much happiness to you and that, still, couldn't swipe away the nasty shadow eating you alive. It followed you, haunted you.

Thursday, 20th June 2024. Written in bold letters on an article about the F1 weekend you were reading, and suddenly the gloom took shape. Seven years. Raising your eyes from the screen of your phone, you glanced at Charles, searching for the same wave of despair and melancholy your heart was overcome by, finding nothing but a light tint of blue under his eyes. Maybe you still had words entangled between your vocal folds yet to be spoken, yelled at him, buried inside your body under the compact soil of time; maybe prejudice had precluded a relationship not so unreachable or despicable as you had always imagined. Because maybe, well disguised by an uncracked mask, you were both harboring the same regret and grief. Or maybe not.

>>♥<<

You walked down the paddock marching to Ferrari’s garage, smile on full display, Charles’ gifted Ray Bans shielding you from judgment as you sported your shirt with the confidence of a star; it was loose enough for you to swim inside of it but still letting the hem of your shorts show beneath it. Ferrari 55 You didn’t miss the friendly smiles of the mechanics and engineers, who had got accustomed to your presence throughout the weeks, at the sight of the bright red merch. Quite pleased with the reaction, you glanced left and right with a single goal in mind, and as you hit it the grin grew wider, mimicking the one Carlos wore on his face. «How do I look?» You twirled around so that he could see better how the cotton draped your silhouette, clearly outlined by his imagination despite the lack of transparency. He had traced your body with his eyes, with his rough hands, with his thoughts way too much not to be obsessed by it, not to remember every single corner of it.

Charles, entering the garage in that same moment with a bit of a rush, since he was running late to the activities established for the day, distractedly took a look in your direction, only to turn his head a second time as he noticed his teammate checking you out with too much familiarity. «What’s going on here?» «Cha’! I was asking Carlos his opinion on my new outfit.» He took a moment to let his eyes scan top to bottom a couple of times, before nostalgically smiling. He had never wanted to see you on track during the kart days because your relationship wasn’t particularly good and he knew you wouldn’t agree anyway. But since F2, since your dad’s condition had started to worsen, since Baku, since his finger raised to show the Je t’aime papa on his rear wing, he had always dreamed of having you support him. He knew he was too old to hide in Pascale’s arms, but craving his little sister’s affection wasn’t as childish. Still, it was way harder to obtain. And having it now, eyes not missing the sunglasses you used as a hairband, so glad you appreciated that gift to the point you wore them that often, felt like that dream was coming true.

«So…What do you think, Carlos?» The Spaniard, a bit surprised by the ball being passed to him immediately, hesitated some more in the staring. «Red looks amazing on you.» «Does it?» you asked, coquettish, turning your shoulder a bit. Enough to show the number on the back. «Yes, it does.» Charles said, anticipating Carlos’ answer. «Now we need to get done with the social media challenge before the briefing. Right, Carlos?» «Yep. I’m coming.» As Charles turned his back to move away, Carlos seized the moment to whisper in your ear. «And my scent fits you amazingly as well…», you smirked in sync. «Did you steal it from my wardrobe?» «Maybe.» «Keep it. I want to rip it off of you tonight.» «Tonight? Thought it’d convince you to find more time for me earlier in the day, but seems like I was wrong…» Knowing you had hit a vulnerable point, you enjoyed Carlos’ hand brushing casually your hip while passing by and pretending to let you go, only to capture you with words. «I’d fuck you right now on the counter next to the helmets.» he paused, licking his ruby lips. «But since you’re trying to rile me up at work, you’ll pay the price by waiting.»

>>♥<<

2 new messages from Lando

[picture] you guys are going public or something?

You smiled staring at the photo Scuderia Ferrari had posted on X: it was a shot taken on the pit area of you with Ferrari merch – in fact, number 55’s one – and Carlos resting his hand on your waist.

> can’t a driver and his teammate’s sister pose together for a pic? they can, but… not being subtle at all here, just saying

>>♥<<

Dining at a table hidden away from Netflix crew and photographers, you chugged down water in large sips. «Did he congratulate you?» Charles smiled. «Think he wished for me to have a mechanical failure like in 2022.» You drank and drank again, hand never letting go of your glass, willing to extinguish the fire – once a mere fever – which had built up in your chest since first hearing your brothers’ words about Carlos.

An infuriating, consuming flame of love. «He pushed me off the track in China… Don't know what he'll do in his home race, starting in front of him.» «If the strategy is to save tyres, the team should ask you to keep the positions in the first stint at least.» Charles snorted at Lorenzo's reasoning. «I'm sure. Can't wait for his mother's comments defending him whatever shit Carlos does on track.» «Can you please stop?» Charles eyed you from across the table a bit surprised, visibly annoyed by the tone and the request. «Stop doing what?» «Talking shit about someone who's not present and whom you don't know a thing about.» Charles almost burst out laughing in front of you, while Lorenzo threw you a confused and alarmed look, warning you about the dangerous territory you had stepped in. «Oh, right, I don't know anything… Then tell me, what do you know about him, uh?» Out of frustration, you stood up abruptly, struggling to form a proper answer. «What I know is that you’re still a fucking child who can’t never, ever accept he’s wrong!» «Guys, tone it down.» Lorenzo said, getting up and approaching you to grab gently your arm. You brushed him off and stormed out of the room, hearing your older brother's steps following close behind you. As you were about to turn around and dismiss him, since you needed no babysitter, Lorenzo spoke the words you had expected him to spit out one month earlier. Only you weren’t expecting to hear them now. «What were you doing in Carlos' room?» You kept facing away from him, not able to move nor to answer. «Why do you keep attending race weekends only to disappear without explanation and avoid Charles and all of us like the plague?» he said, stepping forward. «Did you really think I wouldn't notice?» «Does Charles know?» you asked. «No.» he said. «But if it's serious, you should definitely tell him.» «If?» you turned around to face him. «Are you kidding me? Of course it's serious, indeed, very serious-» «Then you need to talk about it, because this doesn't only involve you but-» «I'm not listening to this bullshit, sorry.» you retreated. «You don't get to tell me how to live my life.»

>>♥<<

Watching them from the pitlane, two red dots moving in the distance, you sensed something was off. Approaching them, dots elongating into silhouettes you so well recognized, you knew something was off. Given the race just disputed – which you had followed from Ferrari’s garage, biting your lips – you kind of expected it to be, but nothing more than a scratch due to adrenaline still running high. Still, you quickly realized how the matter stood different, struggling to catch up with their strides, helmets swinging with force from their hands as they animatedly discussed.

Surprised to see they entered the hospitality instead of walking towards the media pen as expected, you rushed inside, panting from the effort finally compensated, only to be welcomed by yelling now fully unleashed. «WHAT DID YOU FUCKING SAY?!» «CHARLES!» Screaming at the top of your lungs as you saw him tug Carlos’ suit, you tore him away, staring at him both furious and terrified, breathing harshly. «Did you sleep with him?!» «It’s none of your busin-» Carlos spitted out, bitter, enraged at the tone he had addressed you with. «Shut the fuck up!» he barked at Carlos, then looking back at you with fiery eyes. «Tell me you didn’t, y/n.» Your fingers weakened their hold onto Carlos’ suit, as you felt the weight of his own hand on your waist lift off from perception, and your mind suddenly went black. You had lost him, yet another time. Like you had ever had him.

You stood still, arms resting lifeless to your sides, eyes still piercing his. What would he do now? What would he say next? How would he treat you from now on, after discovering that you had sticked with him through weekend races around the globe not to enjoy his company, but to sneak with a teammate he didn’t even like? Would he feel betrayed? Would he feel as lonely as you’d always felt? Would he… hate you? His lack of reaction was the painful delay of the stab you expected in the middle of the chest.

A voice inside of you, from a hidden corner of your disrupted soul, screamed in the deafening silence around you, as your father’s face flashed you awake from that trance: that was the weekend. And those, poking your chest, stinging at the bottom of your lungs, those were the feelings. You gagged. It was inevitable; it had come too quick, too sudden to notice. You had seen the warning sign linger in the unthought thoughts, in the untold truths, ready to slip in any moment. And it did.

When Charles stepped closer, your body jerked backwards, frantic, and you would’ve said it had been out of fear; but as you felt Carlos’ arms wrap your waist with might, you realized your knees had given up on your weight, and that you couldn’t, indeed, breathe. Everything rushed around you: without knowing how, you found yourself sitting on a couch, Charles holding both your hands and talking gibberish you couldn’t follow, a cloud of people dressed in red crowding you two, when Carlos suddenly missing in the blurry picture of your vision almost unblocked the choking clench in your throat and made you cough, before turning into a panting mess. «Can you hear me? What’s wrong, can you breathe?» Charles’ words reached you like a metal screeching noise, not really able to grasp their meaning as you kept gasping and panting; you could only focus on his sweaty, warm fingers tightly gripping yours. In distress, you shook them off, hands trembling like a leaf right after.

Charles, at a loss of words, gulped in terror, letting out a frustrated whine: he could do nothing. «Lorenzo, where is he?» «He’s not here.» Charles whispered, a sad and confused shade in his voice. «I need him, I need… I… Lorenzo…» «Hey, I’m here too…» he spoke soft, inching closer, willing to engulf you in a hug if only you’d let him. He had never been there. Charles had always left you on your own. Things had even managed to get worse, after the death of… You wheezed, bringing your hand near your throat. «Fuck, call the doctors from the medical center here at the track! Come on, go! Quick, for fuck’s sake!» Focusing on the way his expression was shaped into panic and madness, the clench in your throat seemed to loosen just enough to make you sigh, as tears pricked your eyes due to fear. «No, no no no, don’t cry, it’s okay…» Charles was pained by your sobs, adding on top of your erratic breaths, and he placed a hand on your upper arm, hesitant but incapable of preventing it, because he couldn’t stand not being allowed to physically comfort you while you turned in shambles in front of him.

When you felt a hand gently place on your shoulder, you first had the instinct to flinch, but forced yourself not to as a small plastic-coated bag was handed to you from Carlos. «Breathe into the bag.» In and out, tears still running, you watched it expand and crinkle, full and empty, tuning into the rhythm of your heart slowly decreasing, and never letting slip into unawareness Carlos’ warm touch. You dropped down the bag once your breathing had settled back into a constant flow, despite being still hiccupped by sobs. Crushing between Carlos' arms, you gripped him tight. «Please, take me away from here.» you whispered, voice cracking. Charles saw your back caged and shielded by someone else's arms once again; he heard yet another time those same words, ticking inside of him like a bomb. He could still see you dressed in black, hair once combed and then miserably tousled, your frame smaller, seeking refuge in Lorenzo's embrace. Your dad's funeral. The day he realized he had not only lost Hervé, but he had also lost you. Your name slipped off Charles' lips almost inaudible, like a plea, while he got closer and raised his hand to touch you, to beg both permission and forgiveness. Carlos took a step back, drawing you even nearer to his chest to forbid him. «You don't get to touch her after what you said.» Why couldn't he never... «I'll do what you should've done instead.» Love you?

Spielberg 2024

Charles P11. Carlos P3.

Another great performance by the Spanish driver, who granted a podium for Ferrari during his last year in the team.

_____________________

4 new messages from Lando [picture] are you guys for real FINALLY official? ON THE FREAKING F1 ACCOUNT?! > ♥ yesssss

_____________________

Silverstone 2024

Charles P14. Carlos P5.

A solid weekend for Carlos Sainz despite the car being clearly difficult to drive, with great performances in mixed track conditions both in qualifying and in the race.

_____________________

f1 ✔ It seems like Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend y/n Leclerc had a little romantic getaway in London right after the race 🤭

_____________________

3 new messages from Charles we need to talk please call me back when you see this

«Nice try!» «There was a gust of wind…» «Yeah, sure. Keep dreaming of shots like mine.»

I’ve made so many mistakes

«So… Me +5, you +8, right?» «Yep.»

there are so many things that I want to change

«Onto the next hole, then!»

please don’t ignore me

«Ready, babe?»

I’ve missed you so much

«Y/n?» «Uh?» You finally raised your eyes from the screen, getting momentarily blinded by the sun hitting the golf green grass: protected and unbothered on the passenger seat of the golf cart, Carlos was about to follow Lando to the next hole of the course. «Don’t you answer?» «I… No.» «May I know who is it?» You sighed, simply turning the screen of your phone towards Carlos so that he could read the preview of Charles’ flood of texts. As the cart slowly started moving, you stayed silent. «I know you won’t like what I’m about to say, but I think someone should tell you this.» «What?» «It’s your brother, y/n.» You tsked, annoyed, crossing arms and looking on your right side, onto the endless fields of play. «So? Does this give him permission to treat badly both of us? And if anything, you should be mad at him more than I am.» «But I’d never ask you to hate him for me.» You stared at him, as he kept driving. «I know you love him, and I don’t want to see you sad and upset anymore because of anything that happened between me and him.» «It’s not just about you two…» «I know. But from his texts, it seems like he realized he was wrong and is willing to change.» Approaching the new golf hole, Carlos stopped the cart right behind Lando’s. «In four years, if I learned anything about Charles’ character, that’s his perseverance once he has a goal set.» he paused and then looked at you. «If you ignore him today, he’ll keep texting and calling you tomorrow, and the day after, until you give in.» «I don’t want to give in. He always gets what he wants, and I want him to understand I’m not a trophy he can keep on his shelf just because it’s the only one he lacks.» «I think you should hear his reasons anyway. You can always refuse afterwards, if you feel like he’s being superficial about it.»

>>♥<<

Monaco’s street merged with the gray of the liquid asphalt and the pouring column cascading from the plumbeous clouds. There was nothing more disappointing than to be forbidden the breathtaking scenery of the sea glimmering with sunshine splinters, and be left instead to a gray expanse of cold, humid and dampness.

You shook your umbrella, soaked in rain, squeezing it shut as you anticipated it being totally broken after the violent wind gusts blowing from the sea, and you brushed your lucid boots onto the rug, as you would always do. Welcome Home, it said. As soon as your jingling keys touched the small glass plate awaiting them in the hall, Charles was already springing up in front of you, visibly in distress. «Why did it take you so long?» Still struck by the violence of the storm which had welcomed you outside, and dazed by the hurry and urgence of Charles once you had got inside, you didn’t answer. «Did you get wet? Wait, let me get you new clothes.» You followed his erratic figure flinging in your room, opening the closet and scattering it through, in search of anything you might like to wear and change into. «This, it will make you feel warm.» «Cha’, I’m not cold…» «No, this one! This one is good, for sure.» Piling up clothes on the bed as he frenziedly looked through your entire wardrobe, you stood still waiting for him to stop. «Here, let’s change into these.» he said, handing a shirt and some trousers to you. Who… who was that? What had happened to old Charles? The one you’d always known? «C’mon, I don’t want you to get ill!» «You… you need to exit the room.» «Right!» It had never once showed his concerns for you this openly. You figured he had always been too far away from you and not present enough to make his worry evident; and yet you had never even dared dream about such a nurturing and caring brother. At least, you had never expected him to be, once you had fully realized he would never be that brother you so dearly hoped to have.

You sat on the bed, brushing the texture of the shirt he had chosen for you: a softness, a delicacy new-found in his madman behavior. Where from? Out of fear of losing you? Hypocritic. Or maybe just finally acknowledged his mistakes? Carlos’ words echoed in the silence of your bedroom. Listening to him didn’t cost you anything.

«I’m sorry. From how I treated you and Carlos, to how I never once stepped up to improve our relationship even when it was more in my power than in yours to do so.» You lowered your gaze, knowing full well what Charles was referring to and playing every scene, every talk, every fight in your mind like a rerun. «Me and dad barely included Arthur in my driving experience. We thought that there was no point in including you, who were even younger than him, in something you didn’t seem to have a lot of interest in.» «You both decided that for me.» «I know. I know now.» he nodded. «It was a terrible mistake to exclude you from my passion because it indirectly excluded you from my life.» «You weren’t even here when dad was at the hospital.» «Don't you think I know? Don’t you think I’ve suffered for that?» You, inevitably, cried; and he, inevitably, took you in his arms, hugging as strong and tight as he had ever done, as he had wanted to do the day he had come back for the funeral, the moment he had seen you cling onto Lorenzo’s shirt and be cradled by him. It should’ve been me, I should’ve supported you instead, his embrace now screamed. Charles undeniably loved you from the first time he had seen you: a little princess to guide and take care of, to cuddle to sleep when you were still a newborn, to shield from Arthur’s mischief dictated by jealousy from not being the youngest kid anymore. «I missed you.» The crack in his voice, the trembling of his chest upon yours warned you he was crying as well, inside your arms. You couldn’t help but sob louder, and grip his shirt tighter, burying your face in his neck. And yet, he knew that he needed to let that princess grow into a queen and, instead of shielding her from life, support her along the way. «As to Carlos…» he said. «Cha’, I love him, I can’t help it.» you said as he wiped a tear from your cheek. «Please, don't ask me to choose because I won’t.» «Y/n, I’m no one to say what you can and can’t do.» he dropped the tone of his voice. «And I’m definitely not entitled to say whom you can and can’t love.» You stood in shock, elaborating his words. «So…» «So, if Carlos makes you happy, then I support it. I support… you.»

>>♥<<

«So you're good now?» «Thanks to you, yes.» You laid back onto the swim towel, pressing on the sand of Playa de el Cañuelo, staring straight at Carlos who was laying right next to you. «I love the sun here in Spain, gosh…» «Brings back memories, right?» he smirked. «Yeah...» «Why don’t relive them?» In a glimpse, Carlos had grabbed you and you two rolled on the sand, so that you rested on top of him, giggling through the embrace you were now surrounded by. It was as natural as breathing the way you both leaned in to join lips in a messy kiss, smiling and grazing each other’s hot skin, building up steam in such a short amount of time. Dreamy eyes, Carlos placed a strand of your wet hair behind your ear, speaking up again. «I was thinking of buying the villa, so I can stop renting it every month for us to come here.» «Really?» you beamed. «Would you like it?» «I'd love it.» «So then we can expand it and add a second floor, to have space for a playroom for our kids...» «What?» «This will be our holiday villa, once we get married.» Out of excitement, you peppered his face with kisses, secure in the hold of his hands. He then leaned in again, as the tips of your nose brushed on each other’s. «So... Where were we?»

So... First of all, congratulations for making it through! I hope you liked it! Thanks for any feedback - negative, neutral or positive - you'll leave! Wish you all a good day ♥

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

AN: I don't normally write smut, but things do get a little heated in this particular fic, so... enjoy the treat I guess, lol. Though, that being said, I can't say that adding smut is going to be something that I’ll do often, but on the off-chance that it does, I'll be sure to tag properly just to make sure that I don't catch anyone off guard. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,544

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You had just started on wiping the dust off of the kitchen countertops when you heard the shrill squeak of the front door opening, intentionally left unoiled to act as an alert for uninvited visitors. You and Ghost had installed a proper security system of course, but it didn’t hurt to do things the old fashioned way either. 

The flat that the two of you stayed at while on leave was modest, rented mostly because there was a fire escape outside the living room window and another window had a good view of the entrance to the building.

So Ghost would often occupy himself by watching the door when he couldn’t manage to sleep, tormented by memories of things he wouldn’t speak of. But he didn’t keep pieces of his past from you out of distrust. 

He refrained because, by the time he’d finished telling you about how he’d been betrayed by his CO and was tortured for months as a result, you were in tears at the pain and suffering that the love of your life had endured, despite your best attempts to be strong and keep the tears at bay as you listened.

Though, it seemed that Ghost didn’t really mind that you were crying instead of being the solid support that he deserved and could lean on while recounting something so horrible, the man simply pulling you into his arms and sitting down right there on the floor while holding you close.

He never brought it up again and you were hesitant to ask if he wanted to talk about it since you had reacted so poorly to just one of the many horrors that he had survived, especially for a soldier that was chosen to be on the most elite task forces that the British military had to offer. 

In your defense, you had been on leave -in this very flat, actually- when that disaster of a conversation happened, miles away from work and allowed to be human for a few weeks. So you had made no attempt at suppressing the onslaught of emotions that had torn through you like a bullet, leaving a gaping mess of grief in its wake.

You were dragged out of your somber reminiscing when your ears picked up on the crinkle of weighted grocery bags as they were set onto the small kitchen table for two, followed by the nearly inaudible tap of Ghost’s worn black combat boots drawing closer to your turned back. 

You hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped cleaning -just blankly staring down at the damp rag being strangled in your grip- until one of Ghost’s hands tentatively settled on your back, his warm touch grounding.

“Solid, love?” He asked, his pleasantly raspy voice having dropped to a low timbre that was gentle and reassuring all at once.

“Yeah, sorry. Got lost in my head for a minute.” You sighed, leaning into the contact with a slow inhale, your attempt at controlled breathing rendered useless when your exhale turned into a soft huff of laughter as soon as you felt Ghost press his scarred lips to the back of your neck in a fleeting kiss that made your chest ache with affection.

You found yourself awfully tempted to turn around and kiss that reverent mouth until neither of you could think of anything beyond finding the bed but, before you got the chance to act on that particular desire, the hand that was on your back suddenly slid down to your hip and pulled you backward as he simultaneously stepped forward in order to crowd up behind you, his body a solid wall of muscle.

"You're a menace, Simon. I never get anything done when we're on leave because you try to get into my pants every five minutes." You laughed good-naturedly, your hands reaching behind you to grip the back of his thighs, just under his deliciously round ass.

“Don’t know what you’re on about. I’m just comforting you, you’re the one copping a feel.” Ghost retorted dryly, though there was a noticeable heat to his tone now, his short stubble scratching against your skin as he nuzzled the back of your neck.

“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that, do you? I can feel your dick begging for attention, Simon.” You deadpanned, your brow raising as you leveled an unimpressed look at the cabinets directly in front of you, knowing full well that Simon would know exactly what expression was on your face despite not being able to see it.

Lord knew that he had gotten that exact same look from you enough times to have it memorized. 

“Well don’t start neglecting it now.” Ghost grunted with a particularly dirty grind of his hips and you tightened the grip that you had around the back of his thigh, heat pooling in your gut as your lips parted on a silent gasp. 

You could feel Ghost smile against the sensitive skin behind your ear -the smug bastard- and just for his cheeky attitude, you decided to be petty and play hard to get. You allowed Simon to do as he wished for another minute or two before turning in Simon’s grip in order to face the man, who had immediately loosened his hold the moment that you began to move.

“Get off me, you slag. I have to finish cleaning the kitchen before we can cook.” You stated as you met his questioning gaze, the man staring at you blankly for a moment as he processed your words, his eyes darkening when he finally caught onto your scheme.

“Slag? Must be rubbing off on you.” Ghost said with a low chuckle that never failed to send a bolt of pleasure down your spine and, going by the amused twinkle in Simon’s eye, he knew exactly what his voice did to you and was shamelessly using it to his advantage. 

You resisted the urge to squirm under his calculating gaze, since that would mean losing this little game that the two of you were playing, as the man’s fingers teasingly brushed over the slip of skin visible where the hem of your shirt came untucked from your jeans.

“Not yet, you’re not.” You mused with a wicked grin as your hand darted down to catch his wrist before his fingers could slip up under your shirt. You traced the delicate blue lines crisscrossing under the thin, pale skin of his inner wrist with your thumb, your smile reaching shit-eating levels when Simon’s breathing visibly became more labored, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you like you were the sole object of his desire.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost murmured breathlessly, the fingers of his free hand twitching like he wanted to grab you and pin you up against the nearest flat surface, and you didn’t bother repressing the smug grin that spread across your lips as you watched every individual thought that went through his head, every sinful things that he wanted to do to you clearly advertised on his maskless face. 

Simon really wasn’t as hard to read as he wanted people to believe, he was actually quite easy once the mask was off. So while Simon greatly enjoyed when you were rough with him, easily following your lead as you manhandled the man where you wanted him with a firm grip, more tender and reverent contact always had more of an effect on him.

“You love it, you insatiable bastard.” You said with a laugh, Simon leaning forward in order to rest his forehead against yours and you didn’t hesitate to curl an encouraging hand around the back of his neck, letting him have a moment to collect himself since you felt pretty bad for teasing him when you weren’t able to follow through right away.

“Yeah.” Simon admitted quietly, his tone openly affectionate as he tilted his head in order to draw you into a kiss. Words were no longer necessary since the press of his lips told you everything you already knew, the heat that had been bubbling up between the two of you easing as the intense bout of lust that came from your mutual flirting transitioned into something softer, slower.

You were the first to break the kiss when the lack of oxygen made your lungs burn, though you didn’t go far, choosing to instead linger in his personal space. Your nose brushed against his as you basked in the euphoria that came with being with Simon, each of your breaths mingling with his in the small space between the two of you, creating a sort of peaceful bubble where only the two of you existed.

“Didn’t you have some pressing matter to attend to?” Simon’s voice pierced through the quiet and you startled, flinching a bit as you sobered from the trance you had been in, before the words registered and you leaned away in order to scowl at your grinning husband.

“Very funny, Simon.” You said with a fond roll of your eyes, giving his solid chest a friendly pat before finally prying yourself out of his grasp, turning on your heel and making your way back to the kitchen in order to finish what you’d been doing before you got distracted.

_

Home

A place where I can go

To take this off my shoulders

Someone take me home

Home - Bebe Rexha, Machine Gun Kelly, and X Ambassadors

[sungbeam]

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞

agent!kim sunwoo x agent!fem!reader

6.3k words, enemies 2 implied lovers?, spy au, angst, action, swearing, depictions of violence/blood/weaponry, drinking, UNREALISTIC STANDARDS FOR HOW LONG SOMEONE CAN BLEED OUT T_T, mentions of murder and death, i think that's the bulk of it?

a/n: requests now closed! omg i actually had quite the trouble writing this one 🤧 but i hope it's still enjoyable!! thanks so much @shakalakaboomboo for ur req <3

There was something about the rain tonight that would make the smell of blood even more distinct. The moment you stepped out of the cab, you were hit by a wave of hot, all-consuming heat, accompanied by the insistent drumming of the downpour. The near abandoned streets tonight were doused in the scent of petrichor, and you blinked the water out of your eyes as you made your way toward the entrance of the building of interest.

Just as you had expected, Chanhee had logged your identification into the system, and your card alerted green with no problem. The man standing guard by the scanner passed you a nod. “Evening, Miss.”

You gave a nod back, sweeping your hand through your drenched hair to get it out of your eyes. “Good evening. Is there a bathroom nearby? I’m kind of new to the building.”

He pointed down the hall, around the corner. “Right that way. Have a good night.”

“Thanks, you, too. Stay dry!” You added the last part with a lighthearted smile, coaxing a similar expression from the guard who no doubt had a long night ahead of him. If everything worked out okay, he would still be able to leave alive. If everything worked out perfectly, then everyone could leave this building alive tonight.

You winced to yourself as the soles of your shoes squelched with each step, the shiny marble floors becoming even more shiny as water dripped down to form a trail to the bathroom. You found the ladies’ washroom right where the man had said it would be and let yourself in.

You saw his reflection before you even saw him. Your heart leapt in your chest, but that slowly came back down to Earth when your brain processed who it was. Eyes narrowed, you went over to the middle stall and enclosed yourself within.

“Took you long enough,” Kim Sunwoo, the bane of your existence, drawled. He stood outside of the stalls, leaning against the sink counter, with his body fully equipped with all the necessary items. He seemed to be fully dry, despite it having rained cats and dogs outside. The suit was dry, his hair was dry. Everything about him was pristine and neat and ready to go—howdy doo.

You glared at the door as if you were Superman with x-ray vision and laser eyes. There was a garment bag hanging on the back of the stall that you swiftly unzipped to swap out your drenched clothes with. “What the fuck are you doing in the women’s restroom, you perv?”

“Well, the only other person in here is you, so I wouldn’t say it was much of a scandal. It’s just you, after all,” he replied snidely.

You shivered as the air hit your cold, wet skin, and you hobbled into the pair of dress slacks that were given to you. You really hoped that Chanhee hadn’t given you a pair of chunky loafers just for “fashion’s” sake this time. (You appreciated his fashion advice on any other occasion, except when you were on an assignment.) To your relief, they were a simple pair of flats, and you dug out a note in the left shoe with Chanhee’s scrawl: Found the most boring, “practical” pair of shoes in the closet. You’re welcome.

“Do you ever worry about sounding like an asshole?” You voiced out into the echoey bathroom as you buttoned up your blouse and donned your suit jacket. “Oh, wait. I forgot that assholes don’t have to worry about sounding like an asshole.”

You could hear his eyes roll from behind the door.

Once you were done, you shoved all your sopping wet clothes into the garment bag and stepped out of the stall to twist your hair up and off your shoulders. Sunwoo eyed you from his little corner. There was a screen propped in one of his gloved hands as he went over the schematics of the building and where the two of you needed to go to retrieve the required target before the auction.

“Are we ready, princess?” He asked sarcastically while you double checked the weapons and tools hidden in certain parts of your clothing. Knives, ammo, lock picks, and a gun.

You ignored his mocking nickname for you. "Do you have the money?" You asked him as you both started making your way to the bathroom door.

"No." He nearly crashed face first into your back from how abruptly you stopped. He frowned. "Can you move—?"

You whirled on him. "We can't go to an auction to bid on an item without money," you said, feeling your pulse rise in your neck.

"We can," he huffed, reaching around you to open the door and usher you out, "if we're not there to bid."

"Since when were we not going to bid for it?" Your head went on a swivel, voice low, as you stuck close to Sunwoo on the way over to the private set of elevators further down the hall. It was awfully quiet in the lobby, save for the sounds of your breathing and footsteps.

Sunwoo passed you his device and reached into his jacket pocket to toss you a card on a lanyard. "Since Changmin and I decided it would be easier to just steal the damn thing instead."

Your head raced as you skimmed through the schematics and plans that Sunwoo and Changmin had come up with. These were blueprints of the auction room, neighboring rooms, and vents. Yeah, chunky loafers would not have done you any favors tonight.

But footwear wasn't the problem. The problem was that half the team had gone and decided on a whole new plan without consulting the other half. You jammed your finger against the "up" button to summon the elevator. "Of course, you would go behind my back and just decide this."

He tucked his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. "The director already okayed it. Plus, they weren't willing to give us more money than they approved of."

The elevator doors opened, and the both of you stepped inside. Sunwoo reached over and jammed his thumb against floor forty-two.

You leaned your head against the elevator wall, eyes fluttering closed. You would have throttled the director for not approving of more money being put towards this assignment. You thought it would only make sense since the flash drive that was being auctioned off tonight contained such highly sensitive information. It just didn't make sense.

"If we won the auction the right way," Sunwoo suddenly said as you mentally cartwheeled through about a dozen potential scenarios and concerns, "that would simply put a target on our backs for those who want it. Stealing it first would keep our identities low profile."

You had to admit that his words had some reason to them. You watched the numbers on the elevator tick-tock its way up to level forty-two. "So what's the plan, Oh Mighty One?" You asked, inspecting the card on the lanyard around your neck. It had the same identification as the card you'd used to get into the building, but this one had a special seal in the corner that would no doubt be used to get you into the auction itself.

"You're gonna cut the lights, and I'm gonna steal the drive."

Your head whipped toward him. "You're shitting me. I'm not a man-in-the-chair, Sunwoo."

"Never said you were," he said. "It's just too risky to have us both go for it."

Something creeped into your chest and your fingers clenched around your lanyard. "Don't give me that bullshit," you said, having to pull back a full-on snarl. "Just say you have zero faith in me to my face." It was just like the academy all over again. You could hear his taunts egging you on from across the sparring mat, could envision his gaze cutting toward you with every first rank he received. He was good at almost everything, while you had to haul ass to even get to second.

You were so sick of being underestimated.

He considered you for a moment, but you couldn't look him in the eye, choosing instead to stare straight ahead at the steel doors of the elevator. He opened his mouth to say something, but the elevator slowed to a stop and the two of you had to walk out onto the floor.

The two of you fell into step with one another as you made your way down the hall to the large pair of doors at the end. There were two men stationed on either side, dressed in the typical dark suits and earpieces. Attached to their belts, you noted the shotguns hanging there. If you could get closer, you might be able to identify the model…

"IDs," said the one on the right when you and Sunwoo approached.

You and Sunwoo held your cards face up, and both guards took a device from their back pockets to scan the seals in the corner. When their devices lit up green, they reached for the doors and beckoned you through.

The auction room itself looked cavernous with its wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, ceiling dripping with panels of modern lighting, and pedestals littered about the room like a fancy showroom of expensive black market items. You and Sunwoo stuck together mainly, thankfully not sticking out like a sore thumb thanks to the business smart attire you'd changed into. There were a few people with more luxury branded garments on, but other than that, it seemed Chanhee had hit the dress code right on its nose.

Sunwoo tapped you on the arm with the back of his hand, his fingers subtly marking out the chairs, the second floor railing around the perimeter of the room, and the guarded door by the foot of the stage. "We need a distraction to get in there. Once we get inside, we'll have plenty of time to grab the thingamajig since it's the last on the—"

"Hold on—the thingamajig?" Your face screwed up in incredulity.

"Are you judging? Why are you judging?" He asked, plucking twin flutes of champagne off an orbiting waiter's tray. He handed you one. "Drink this. Act natural."

You rolled your eyes and chugged the glass. While you did think Sunwoo was good at a lot of things, alcohol tolerance was one of the few where you came out on top. Right now, you were going to take full advantage of it because that liquid courage was definitely needed. "You say that like I've never done this before, lightweight."

"Oh, shut up."

You and Sunwoo lingered for a moment, pretending to eye the list of auction items being displayed on the flat screen on stage. According to the countdown timer, the two of you only had a few minutes before—

The lights went out.

A gasp fell over the crowd as you placed your empty glass on a nearby table and grabbed Sunwoo by the upper arm. "That wasn't you, was it?" You whispered to him, making your way toward the side of the room where the back door was.

"Yes, because I can control electricity with my mind," he hissed back at you.

"Everyone, please remain calm—" a man had stepped onto the stage and was attempting to placate everyone in the room. He had his hands held out, an easygoing smile on his face. All of the guards and staff members were holding up emergency flashlights, and a few other guests were beginning to pull out their cellphones.

Yours and Sunwoo's eyes darted from the crowd to the man guarding the back door. To your surprise, you saw the man pause at something in his earpiece, before turning around to enter the door he was guarding.

"Fuck, catch the door," you said to Sunwoo, grabbing the glass out of his hand and shoving him toward the door.

He launched for it, barely shoving his body through the opening before it clicked shit. He grimaced as you caught up to him. "This door is fucking heavy," he said, baring his teeth at you when he noticed you were trying to prevent the champagne from spilling. "Can you put down the damn alcohol, Ln?"

"It might come in handy," you quipped, slipping in through the door behind him.

When the door shut behind you, the hallway was encased in darkness, save for the haunting red EXIT signs above your heads, one at each end of the hallway. You followed Sunwoo's lead since he'd been the one to study the blueprints of this place, your free hand grazing over the pistol hanging from your belt beneath the flap of your suit jacket.

"What the hell happened? That wasn't one of us, was it?" You voiced into the dark.

Sunwoo had whipped out a small flashlight and put the butt in his mouth to hold while he jimmied the opposite door open. "Mm-mm," his answer was muffled, but you knew what he meant. The door fell open a little too easily, and Sunwoo only cocked his head in curiosity for a moment, then he was moving forward.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you heard voices echoing from somewhere within this next room. The AC was jacked up to a decently high power here, keeping the room cool and dry for all the items that were supposedly being auctioned. This next room was a labyrinth of shelves, and through them, you could make out the movement of lights slicing through the spaces.

"This feels too easy," you murmured to your partner as the two of you peered through the cracks between shelves.

"Yeah, no kidding," he muttered back. "I think somebody is trying to steal something, too."

"The drive?"

"Could be."

The voices came closer, footsteps shuffling and light swarming through the shelves like visible beams through a thick fog.

You grabbed onto Sunwoo again and yanked his arm over your shoulders. You felt him stiffen. "Act drunk, you idiot," you instructed into his ear, "and when they get close enough, do the thing."

He sent you a look. "The thing? And why do I have to be the drunk one again—"

"Freeze!"

Both you and Sunwoo's heads shot up as bright lights blinded your vision. You couldn't tell how many there were—two? Three? But you felt Sunwoo relax in your hold as he sunk into the role you'd assigned him.

"I'm so sorry," you lamented, holding up the flute of champagne in your hand. "My friend over here just drank waaay too much at the open bar and started wandering."

The lights were nearing. "How did you two get back here?" Asked the same voice.

"The door was unlocked during the power outage! I am so—" Your eyes found the circle shapes of the muzzles of handguns being pointed at you and your partner when they had neared enough, "—sorry. We're just a little lost now."

You squeezed Sunwoo's side as you hobbled the two of you closer to the lights like a damsel in distress. "Just point us in the right direction and we'll be—"

If you didn't know Sunwoo like you did, you probably wouldn't have even registered what just happened. But within the blink of an eye, you felt him leave your grasp, and you tossed the glass of champagne at one of your opponents. "Hey, catch!"

On instinct, the one across from you had to drop something to catch the flying glass of champagne, and unlucky for them, it happened to be their gun. Your foot kicked that sucker like a soccer ball beneath the nearest shelf. You grabbed the champagne out of their hand—thanked them for holding it—then smashed the glass over their head.

Quick and easy, yet your heart was pounding against your chest. What the hell was going on?

When you were finished, you leaned down to pick up the fallen flashlight. Sunwoo was looming over his own opponent with his boot on the man's chest, and he pocketed the spare gun while the flashlight hung from his other hand.

You both looked at each other. "We gotta go."

"I can't believe you made me do the drunk scenario."

"Can you just shut up and focus?"

Navigating the maze of shelving was a lot easier with the flashlights. At least now, both of you could see where you were going without fear of anyone else catching you. But when neither of you found the so-called hard drive you were tasked with retrieving, you were met instead by another door leading out to another unknown location.

Sunwoo dove in headfirst. (Right, he studied the maps. Ugh.) "I have a feeling someone's taken the drive already, so be prepared to shoot."

The next room was a long corridor that sloped downward toward a lone elevator. Creepy.

You scowled. "Like I'm never prepared to shoot?"

His gaze was equally as disgruntled. "Just because you got the highest marks in all of our projectiles classes doesn't mean you'll actually shoot."

That remark was something akin to an arrow to your chest. A muscle feathered in your jaw as he called the elevator up to the floor. "You were the top of class in projectile training; you have a license to kill; and yet, you have zero kills in your stats."

How the…? "I don't have to kill to execute my objective. Those aren't assignments I take," you countered, stepping into the elevator when it opened its jaws for you.

Sunwoo crossed his arms over his chest. "Ln, you didn't even take the gun away from the guy earlier. That is protocol."

"I have a gun—"

"That's not the problem, and you know it." He snarled. He took a step near you, both of your tensions rising, heat boiling between your two gazes, nostrils flared. "Just think about it, huh? How many times could you have made it easier on yourself by shooting your way out of something? You know what I would do to have an aim like yours? It's a fucking gift in this field, Ln. And yet, here you are, too scared to even hold a gun—"

You stepped into his space, got up in his face. "You know fucking nothing about me, so quit acting like you do," you snarled and forced the tremor out of your voice. Your hand fisted at your side, close to the weapon you were cursed and gifted to always be tied to.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek and you were so close to him that you could measure the length of his eyelashes. "What in hell happened to you?"

The elevator dinged. You'd arrived.

You pulled away, mentally shaking yourself away from this conversation. "Don't start acting like you care now."

"I don't," he said as you both walked out of the elevator into a massive underground parking structure beneath the building. "I just need to know that I can count on you if we're in trouble."

"You can," you answered. But there was a microscopic break there, and you were certain he'd heard it, too. There was a question in his stare—he was never as good with guns, but he could fight his way out of a scenario just as well. You were the right choice out of the two of you for anything long range, but the question was if you could still live up to that one-trick reputation.

The underground garage created the perfect echo chamber for loud noises. You and Sunwoo simply followed the audible cacophony coming from further within the garage. Gun rounds were being unloaded without mercy, tire squeals were shut down by no doubt those same gun shots.

You wiped your hand on your pants, sticky from the champagne from earlier, as you and your partner pressed yourselves up against two columns. Just beyond, there was an active shootout taking place—which side had the merchandise, you weren't quite sure of.

Sunwoo signaled to you in a way you recognized from games of capture the flag at the academy. Two fingers swished toward the men behind the cars closest to him, then for you, the ones on your side. Heart hammering against your ribcage, you could only nod, and enclosed your fingers around the handle of the gun in your belt.

You blindly double checked the ammunition loaded up in your firearm, but it was futile since you'd already checked in the bathroom much earlier. It was loaded completely, and very much ready to fire.

You didn't need Sunwoo to signal, because you seemed to know exactly when the other was going to whip around the stone column and take one person out at a time.

Arm—one down—a leg, oh, was that a thigh?—but there went two off your side, as easy as shooting clay pigeons. Instead of a jitteriness filling your nerves, everything seemed to muffle and calm when you had a gun between your fingers. Like second nature, you picked off people (without killing them) before they even realized their mates were gone.

You would nail them in the arm, the shoulder, the butt, the leg, then duck behind the pillar for cover. Guns had become too easy of a game for you.

You barely even noticed that the others on Sunwoo's side started shooting at both of you.

"Fuck," you heard your counterpart curse as he pressed himself against the column.

The two of you connected gazes, and he didn't even have to ask before you were pulling down the hammer again and taking aim—

"LN—YN! BEHIND YOU!"

Your heart lurched into your throat, and you dove.

A line of bullets buried themselves into the concrete where your head had been, and you winced, feeling the burn of concrete through your clothes.

You rolled behind the nearest car, swearing as you clambered to your knees for cover. Somebody had set up a few cars behind you, ready to take you out with an automatic rifle.

"Sunwoo, you need to cover me," you shouted at him, glancing over your shoulder for his visual confirmation.

He gave a firm nod, already leaping into hand-to-hand action and ditching his gun for his more trustworthy melee weapons instead.

Through the windows of the car, you could just make out movement of the gunman. You crawled over to the other side of the car, tracking the feet and legs you could see beneath the vehicles. You reloaded your pistol, smacking the magazine into place, then pressing the hammer down.

Shots suddenly rained down on you, and you pressed yourself further to the ground.

"Come on, come on," you urged, "reload already."

And when you heard that beautiful sound of silence, you yanked yourself to your feet, pointed the barrel through the window, and shot. You heard the curse, and it was enough for you to whip over the back of the car and smack the butt of your gun into their head. The gunman went crashing to the concrete; you tucked your pistol away and picked up the automatic.

The heft of the gun was an old friend—it sank over you in cold realization… how much damage you could do with this.

With pursed lips, you emptied out the gun and kicked it under the car.

You rushed to line up a shot with your pistol to help Sunwoo who was juggling a fight against two others.

He didn't need that much help, but there was the glint of a knife, and you didn't even blink. The bullet buried itself in one of their shoulders, and Sunwoo elbowed him off his back, shoving the other's face into the car in front of him. He yanked his opponent's hair back and smashed their head into the metal again.

"You got it?" You asked him, sliding over the hoods of cars to get back.

He knew what you meant. Blood ran down his nose and there was a purplish cut on his lip. Sweat dripped down the side of his face as he dumped the now unconscious foe to the concrete. "Yeah, it went flying somewhere over there," he inclined his head down a row of cars, and you gave a nod.

The two of you jogged over in the direction Sunwoo asserted and began looking for the discarded drive.

You straightened after ducking beneath a car, but your eyes caught a flash of someone—your instincts lurched.

"Fuck, Sunwoo—!" You had the time to shove him out of the way as the rounds went flying past your heads and you tackled him.

Something pierced into the skin of your shoulder though, and you felt the bullet rip through your clothes and flay your skin as it passed. Your hand slapped over your arm as you fellz Sunwoo's stabilizing you. "Shit, Ln," he said, grasping your good side.

"It's the guy from earlier," you groaned, feeling the blood begin to pool.

"Huh? What guy—"

"The one I didn't take the gun from in the hall." The regret poured into you as swiftly as your blood flowed out of you. "I'll cover you—just find the damn thing."

He sent you a look, but nodded. "Okay."

You were lucky you hadn't been nicked in your good arm, you thought, as you clambered to your knees and peered over the edge of the car.

There he was, the man you'd smashed over the head with a glass. His forehead was bleeding profusely, but he still stumbled toward you, cocking his gun and firing. You ducked, crouching around the car to get to the other side. Mind racing for strategies, you thought you could easily take him down one limb at a time like the others.

All thoughts went flying out the window though when the man started barreling toward you, teeth bared, like a bull seeing red. You yelped as a bullet pelted the ground an inch from your hand. You ducked behind the car, ignoring the pain in your shoulder to palm your gun and aim.

You heard it hit its target.

But he just kept running.

"Are you serious?" You cursed, then regretting it immediately when he threw himself across the hood of the car to knock you down.

You cried out as your head hit the car behind you, the pain stabbing white in your vision. Adrenaline and fear pumped through you as you fought to keep his hands away from your neck. You even found where your bullet had lodged itself and pressed on it.

He grunted at the feeling, nearly twisting your arm off for that. You were trying, trying, trying.

His gun was gone; it didn't matter. You weren't good at hand to hand.

And your grip on his thick fucking wrists slipped. His hands were around your throat. You couldn't breathe—you thrashed around, smashed your gun against his face. He swept your efforts away, determination pressing his thumbs into the hollow—

BANG!

You saw the life drain out of his eyes. He fell over you, blood and a smoking gun sandwiched between your bodies.

Oxygen rushed into your lungs and you coughed. The realization hit you, a hammer striking against the percussion cap.

You just killed this man. You just shot him, point blank.

Oh god—you heaved his limp body off you, his blood staining your clothing, and you felt like Lady Macbeth, scrambling over blood that would not wash away.

"Yn!" Sunwoo's voice.

You wrestled to your hands and knees. "It's not my blood," you coughed, dry gagging at the sight of the pale body, rigid from rigor mortis.

Your mind was everywhere. Another one dead. What if he had a family? What if what if what if—?

"Ln, come on, you're alive. You can do it."

You were on your feet. There was a ringing in your ears from when your head smashed against the car.

Sunwoo ran over to you and threw your good arm over his shoulder to get you to the car he had broken into. "There you go. Hey, I got the drive. How 'bout that?" He wiggled a slim, black tab—the thing that had caused all of tonight's trouble.

You shook out the orbs dancing in your vision. How hard had your head been struck? "It still feels too easy."

"Don't say that," he groaned. "I just wanna get out of this place."

You really shouldn't have spoken so soon.

You heard the shot before you felt it; then the next one, then the next.

Sunwoo twisted around to shoot three rounds himself, silencing one of the people who had gotten the strength to pull himself up for one last try.

All breath left your throat as your hand reached for your lower abdomen. One of the bullets had gone through, piercing the side of your stomach. It had gone all the way through, back to front, the bullet lodged in the metal of the car in front of you.

You couldn't even see which blood stain was yours.

"Nonononono," Sunwoo chanted as your knees buckled and you started slipping to the ground. "Yn—Yn, stay with me," he urged, laying you gently on the ground.

The pain twisted itself until your eyes watered. You thought you tasted blood in your mouth. "Should've shot them dead like you said," you managed to say.

Sunwoo leaned over you, panic wide in his dark eyes as he held your face between his palms. "Yn, honey, you need to stay with me." He pressed his hands over the wounds opening and you screamed, the sound grating against his ears. He knew it hurt—god, he knew, but he needed to stop the bleeding somehow. Oh fuck.

"I'm sorry I screwed up so many times," you grunted to him. You tasted the iron coating your throat and suppressed the urge to cough it all out. You could barely think with the fucking hole in your stomach, but all you knew was that if he wasn't quick, the shot could be fatal.

"I'm gonna get you out of here." You could hear the resolve in his voice, but the shaky undertone, too. You'd never heard his voice shake before. "Don't apologize." Not until I get you out alive.

He scooped you up and you screwed your face up in agony. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your teeth clamping down on your tongue to muffle the screams. There was blood in your mouth.

It hurt. Fucking hell, it hurt.

He went through the motions of wrestling the car door open, laying you in the passenger seat, trying to find something to staunch the bleeding on both sides.

The whole time, you kept your eyes on his face, trying to ingrain his features in your memory. The blood from his nose had partly dried, but the cut on his lips made his bottom one even poutier.

You'd never seen him so worried, or scared, with the crease between his brows. You wanted to reach up and rub it away.

"Hey," you rasped, catching his wild eyes. "Stop fussing over me and drive."

He clicked his tongue, eyes darting between your face and the knot he was tying with the jacket he found in the backseat. "Yah," he said half-heartedly, "don't tell me what to do."

He passed you another glance before shutting your door and running for the driver's seat.

As soon as Sunwoo collapsed into his side of the car, the elevator, from which you'd come, slid open. A flood of guards in armor and equipped with automatic weapons flooded out in a tidal wave. You both swore a colorful line of words.

"Drive, drive, drive—!" You urged, breaking out into coughs, then doubling over when the motion only intensified the bullet wound.

"What do you think I'm doing, woman!" He yelled and the tires squealed as he pulled out of the parking spot to make a mad dash for the exit.

Bullets fired at the car, lodging themselves in the metal and cracking the back windshield. You heard the glass shatter, and you reached for your gun to try and knock some of them off.

Sunwoo shoved your hand down. "Oh, no you don't. Save your energy, hot stuff."

It wasn't until he had navigated you both away safely from harm's way that you really let everything soak into your head. Your blood marinated the car seat beneath you, and you could feel your energy being siphoned toward the gaping hole in your stomach. Reality dawned on you faster and faster.

Did you fear death?

The streets were empty; it was still raining. You were right about the hot rain—it made the blood scent bolder.

Sunwoo made a turn onto a street, and another, to take any lingering tails off.

"I killed someone tonight," you voiced out into the quiet car amongst the humdrum of rain. It drizzled in through the shattered back windshield and onto the backseat.

"It's okay, Yn," he said quietly. "You had to."

You paused, swallowing. You inhaled sharply and you swore you were starting to get used to the throbbing all over your body. "You… you were right."

"You don't have to do that. Save your en—"

"No," you said with more force. His mouth snapped shut. "I just—" your eyes drifted closed for a moment, "—I just wanted to get this off my chest."

When he remained quiet to give you the space to speak, you told him, "What you said in the elevator was right… I uhm, I feel like a coward when I can't stomach a headshot anymore. I just… Sunwoo, I hate who, or what, I become when I have a gun in my hands."

You felt him glance over at you. "You're not a monster, if you think that's what you are," he murmured. You felt his hand cover yours where you were holding your injury.

"I've hurt a lot of people," you admitted, eyes staring out the front windshield. "The organization told me to pull the trigger, and I did. Even in the academy, I never felt good enough unless I was hitting a target." It had become a momentary triumph only, until every hit made you sink deeper and deeper into guilt. You had been tearing yourself apart at the seams, and you could remember those moments, seeing the fallen with people who cared about them rushing to their side.

The twisting in your stomach suddenly didn't feel like it was from the gunshot.

"Your record—"

"My record is doctored," you said blankly. "They wiped it when I gave up being a sniper."

He meditated on that for a moment, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. He winced when he was reminded of the injury there. "I know that I was and have been—not the greatest toward you—and... I'm sorry. I think some part of me just thought it would catch your attention—which is no excuse—but…" His finger tapped on the steering wheel in time with his blinker. "I always thought that you would go far regardless. I thought you'd be recruited as a sniper for the high profile shit."

A smile curled at the corner of your lips. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his own lips pressed together. "Yeah. The best, y'know? And I thought… at least as a sniper, you won't be in the line of fire."

Your chest throbbed. "I still got shot, too, though."

"Yeah, but…" He turned into a barren residential street, no doubt toward the safe house nearby. "They wouldn't be shooting at you, I guess. I dunno. That's what I was telling myself, anyway."

You shifted your head slightly to peer over at him. There was a sincerity to his words that you had almost never remembered hearing out of his mouth. You believed him—you believed that he cared. "Thinking about me in your free time, Kim?"

"You wish," he joked, but it was a weaker comeback.

The house he pulled up to was at the end of a cul-de-sac. It was the standard, cookie cutter suburban house, with its front lawn trimmed and windows dark and lifeless. Sunwoo carefully drove the car into the empty garage for privacy, then ran over to your side to help you out.

You could feel yourself falling out of consciousness with all the blood loss.

Your head was drooping as he picked you up in his arms again. The crease between his brows made a reappearance and with your last bit of strength, you reached up to gently rub it away with your thumb. "Hey… I'm gonna be okay," you whispered to him in the dark and quiet of the garage.

He swallowed, peering down at you. "You better be," he said. "Who's gonna have my back then?"

You smiled since you couldn't laugh. Maybe the blood loss was making you loopy (probably), but you swore he smiled just a teensy bit.

He managed to get you on the couch, and you whimpered at the surface beneath you. He disappeared for a moment, but when he returned, it was with a first aid kit and a phone. "I called headquarters; they'll be here in five," he murmured, kneeling next to you and beginning to peel off the blood coated fabrics.

You hissed, body squirming with whatever energy you had left. "I can't believe I'm still alive."

He huffed and gently applied pressure to the wound with gauze. "The only one who gets to kill you is me. Remember that."

"Yeah, yeah," you panted. "Sew me up or something."

"It's gonna hurt. Wanna hold my hand?"

Your eyes met his. "You're ridiculous." But somehow, he managed to make your heart lurch. Even bleeding out and halfway dead, he could make your heart rate spike.

He gave a shrug as he threaded the needle and you held onto the gauze for the moment. "You know what they say…" his voice softened when you both heard a familiar voice announcing his presence from the front door—Changmin. Backup was here. "Enemies make the best lovers, do they not?"

"Did it take me almost dying for you to think of that one?"

Changmin rushed in with a full kit in his hands and practically shoved Sunwoo out of the way. You bit on your tongue as the newcomer inspected your wound.

Sunwoo leaned over the edge of the couch and grappled at your hand, his other brushing the sweaty hair out of your face. "We're not done with this conversation, okay? You better not die on me."

You squeezed his hand when Changmin began stitching you up. "Wouldn't dream of it."

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @kflixnet @ericlvr

[drafthorsemath]

Tooka Dad

Crosshair x Veterinarian OC Rayla

Word Count: 6.331k

Warnings: None really – Fluff, new relationship, cuddling, bed sharing. Brief descriptions of a stray animal in need of medical attention, TLC, and spaying. Brief mentions of Crosshair’s medical trauma / tomophobia.

A/N: This came to my brain and now it’s words. I don’t know what else to say about it. No description of Rayla’s appearance outside of her being fem and using she/her pronouns.  Thank you to @staycalmandhugaclone @eclec-tech and @lightwise for the encouragement.

It had been months since Crosshair had rejoined his siblings and they found themselves on Pabu. The adjustment had been difficult. It was still difficult. There were many things he wouldn’t speak about. His brothers gave him some space, not pushing too much, but making sure he knew he wasn’t alone. He, Omega, and Tech had spent time together healing physically after Mt. Tantiss, as well as healing whatever mental wounds they could. Those were taking the most time, especially for Crosshair.

He didn’t want to leave the house today, but Wrecker insisted (in his own Wrecker way) that he come to the docks and help move some cargo. Crosshair rolled his eyes but got to his feet and followed his brother down to the ocean. They spent the morning moving crates from boats on to the docks, but as the sun continued to beam down on them, Crosshair’s eyes started to ache from the light.

“I got it from here,” Wrecker said, knowing his brother’s sensitivity.  Crosshair simply nodded his thanks and headed toward some shade. Before he could sit down, he saw something small scamper away from behind one of the crates Wrecker picked up. He followed the movements and kneeled down, looking under a bench that sat under a tree.

“What is it,” Wrecker asked.

A tiny gray tooka kitten peered at them through crusty eyes. Crosshair wasn’t entirely sure how the little creature could see.

“Tooka,” Crosshair answered. Wrecker knelt down further and smiled at the scared kitten.

“A baby tooka? Aww, Crosshair we gotta take it home.”  Wrecker smiled and tried to make space so he could grab the little ball of fur, but the kitten would have none of it and scurried to hide behind the other side of the bench.

“Just wait,” the Crosshair advised. His brother sighed but nodded and got back to work. Instead of sitting on the bench, Crosshair sat on the ground next to it.  The next two hours were spent waiting for the animal to come out. He wasn’t going to force anything. Wrecker checked in after he was done with the crates.  Although the tooka hadn’t moved, he knew that if anyone had the patience to wait it out and earn its trust, it was Crosshair.  Wrecker went home, grabbed some lunch, and brought it back. He silently held out some homemade bread and fruit to his brother, sitting next to him as they silently ate. The tooka let out a little squeak and Wrecker saw just the smallest tug of a smile on his Crosshair’s face. Eventually Wrecker decided to head home and help Tech with moving some big equipment.

As the time passed, Crosshair thought of his time away from his siblings. How much doubt and fear were in his heart despite deciding to stay on the platform on Kamino. Of the ongoing pain he had each time his chip was enhanced. The absolute horror in his soul when his actions felt like they were someone else’s, but he knew his hands pulled the trigger. He had never wanted to lose control and yet the Empire had him in its grasp and his mind wasn’t fully his own. He’d been so conditioned and the chip only added another layer of complexity. He closed his eyes and sighed as he pressed his hands flat on the ground beneath him in an attempt to center himself in the here and now. He wasn’t alone anymore. Just as he had this thought, he felt some tiny fluff brush against his hand.  He opened his eyes to find the kitten sitting next to his fingertips.  He gently picked up the creature and stood. The tooka didn’t make a sound and didn’t fight as Crosshair walked back them back to Upper Pabu. He was fairly certain the lack of fight was only because the animal was fur and bones.

“Tech,” was all he said upon finding his brother working on the Marauder. Tech stood, adjusting his goggles, and raised his eyebrows.

“A tooka,” he replied, “and in a sorry state.”

Crosshair hummed in agreement. Tech knew this was his brother’s way of asking for help. He pulled out his datapad and examined the kitten in Crosshair’s hands.

“There appears to be an eye infection, parasites, and a serious lack of nutrition,” noted Tech. “I could possibly find some food for her, but I cannot immediately find appropriate medication for her ailments. Why don’t you take her to the veterinarian?”

Crosshair sighed. At least he now knew the tooka was a she and some of what was going on with her, but he wasn’t quite sure about a veterinarian. He didn’t want this little girl to be scared any more than she already was and he understood how anything medical might cause her more fear.  Then again, she looked miserable and he couldn’t let her stay that way.

“Alright,” he agreed. He didn’t even realize the island had a veterinarian.  Tech gave him the location and he headed back down the path.

It had been a long day for Rayla. One of Pabu’s residents had decided to buy a pair of orbaks to help cart goods around and she hadn’t treated anything with hooves since veterinary school. One of them was particularly stubborn, but she liked a good challenge. It was never about forcing something on an animal. It was about reading body language and helping them feel safe enough to get through any needed procedures.

She looked up as a tall man came through the door. She smiled to herself. Rayla had spent time with his brothers since they settled on Pabu and Omega was fascinated with her career choice.  They talked about him briefly, but she hadn’t met him yet.

“Hello,” she said with a soft smile. “Crosshair, right? I’m Rayla. How can I help you?”

Crosshair looked at the woman in front of him and then down at the tiny tooka. “Found her,” he said.  He didn’t seem surprised she knew his name. There were some people on the island who guessed who he was based on association.

“How about you come back to the exam room and we’ll take a look,” Rayla offered. He simply nodded and followed.  Crosshair looked around the room, almost more afraid than the tooka. There were various instruments, and he was sure there were even more in the cabinet. The veterinarian washed her hands and put on some gloves.

“How about we start with a weight,” she suggested, nodding to the scale. Crosshair put the kitten down, almost afraid to let go. She weighed much less than she should. Rayla noted her weight and then suggested a particular food for her. He nodded and moved her off the scale. He couldn’t quite keep his hands off her, trying to keep the contact while the exam was completed for fear of losing her or seeing her scared.

“She’s got an eye infection. I can give you drops for those and show you how to put them in.” He nodded.  He noticed Rayla stopped and gave the kitten a little break and spoke kindly to her before looking through her fur.

“She has fleas too.” 

His eyes got wide, but he still didn’t pull away from her.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Fleas are species specific. Her fleas won’t harm anyone but other tookas. We can give her a flea bath now if you’d like.” Crosshair nodded and let out a little relieved breath.

He held on to her while Rayla filled a small tub with warm water. Crosshair tentatively put the small creature in the tub. While the veterinarian worked the shampoo in and rinsed, he held the kitten and helped keep her head up.  The little tooka clung to his thumb with her front legs and Rayla couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s really taken with you,” she said.

“Mm,” was all he let out, but his eyes went soft. 

“Are you planning on keeping her or would you like me to find her a hom-“

“No,” he firmly blurted out before quieting his tone again. “I’ll keep her.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, getting a towel. 

Crosshair took it upon himself to wrap her up.  Rayla showed him how to put drops in her eyes. 

“In about a week you could give her a dewormer pill.” 

He nodded and followed her out of the room.  She gathered the dewormer pill, some food for the kitten - explaining that for the time being she needed food that would be easy on her digestive system - and a lightweight slip lead. Rayla put everything in a bag and handed it to him.  Getting out a data pad for her records, she asked if the newly adopted animal had a name yet.

“Vaar’ika,” he said.

“What does it mean,” she asked curiously.

“Pip-squeak.”  Just as he said that, Vaar’ika let out tiny peep that made Rayla smile. She entered the relevant information.

“Well then,” she replied, “congratulations Vaar’ika. And congratulations Tooka Dad.”

Crosshair felt warmth flood his cheeks and ears, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He nodded at all Rayla’s directions about the dewormer and a follow up appointment. 

As he left, Rayla couldn’t help but think that she quite liked him. He may have said very few words, but he was so expressive.  He was easy for her to read and she knew she could trust a man who adopted an ailing kitten without question.

Crosshair took Vaar’ika home. Wrecker had already told Echo, Hunter, and Omega about her and Omega waited at the window to meet this new addition to the family.  Crosshair came through the door and held the little one close to his chest. She was exhausted and he could feel her little body shake from the stress of the day.

“I want to help,” Omega declared.

Crosshair didn’t say anything as he walked toward his bedroom. He simply nodded in the general direction of the hallway and Omega’s smile grew as she knew it meant she could follow him.  Crosshair put the tiny bundle on his bed and started looking for something to make a tooka bed.

“What’s wrong with her eyes,” Omega asked.

“Infection,” Crosshair answered. “Needs to be given eye drops for a few days at least.”

“I can help,” Omega answered.

“Omega,” Crosshair warned. He knew she was excited, but he wanted to approach the kitten’s treatment in a methodical way.  He looked at his sister for several moments and then nodded. “Fine, but she won’t need more drops until tomorrow.”

Crosshair shuffled through his belongings in his closet and found an old pair of blacks. He used a spare pillow to make something of a little bed with the blacks as a bedding.  He placed the new bed on the floor near his own.  Omega watched as the little tooka crawled on the bed closer to her brother.  He put her on the new bed and quietly told her he’d be back soon.  Omega followed him down the hall and grinned at her other brothers who were all at least a bit curious about their new roommate.  While Crosshair grabbed a small plate and spoon and headed back to his room, Omega helped Echo and Hunter with dinner.

Vaar’ika was hiding under his bed, but Crosshair sat down, opened a can of food, and spooned out a little on the plate.  He placed it on the floor and she came out to eat.  He smiled while watching her eat. She had an appetite and he knew that was important in her healing. He retrieved a little bowl of water for her and gave her a bit more food.  After she finished eating and drinking, she jumped up on the window and pawed at it.  Crosshair pursed his lips and then decided to take her outside. He looped the leash around her and picked her up.  His hunch was right. Almost immediately, she found a spot to relieve herself.  Maybe he had lucked out when it came to house training.

When finished, she tried climbing his leg and he picked her up. Her eyes were less messy than they were before, and he could make out the way she looked at him. He felt a little glow in his heart at the thought that this creature had chosen him and wanted to be with him.  He took her back inside, took off the leash, and placed her back on the makeshift bed. During dinner with his siblings some questions were asked, but no one asked if he would be keeping her. Based on what they saw, they knew she would stay and it would be a good change.

Once dinner was over, Crosshair made his way back to his room to give Vaar’ika another small meal. She ate it quickly and climbed on the window again. He took her out and this time she wandered around a little bit, exploring her new home.  He took her back in, holding her in the crook of his arm and heading to bed. He placed her on her own bed, but once he climbed into his own, he could see her moving in the darkness. She made her way up the side of his bed post and purred as she snuggled against his chest.  Crosshair smiled to himself and fluffed her hair before they drifted off to sleep together.

Crosshair spent the next few days helping her find her feet. They established morning and evening walk routes.  He purchased a little pink collar for her, making sure it included her name and his.  It wasn’t long before he was comfortable taking her around off-leash. She never wandered too far and for the most part, seemed to like watching this world from her perch on his shoulders.  He let Omega hold Vaar’ika when it was time to put her eyedrops in, but he never let Omega put the drops in. Finally Omega managed to wear him down and convinced him to let her try.  Crosshair held the kitten, holding her back to his chest and supporting her back end with one hand. Omega approached the tooka’s eyes with the dropper bottle, aiming for the middle of her left eye.

“Omega, no!” It came out a little louder than he meant. He leaned back to pull his little bundle away. He gave his sister a warning look.  She looked confused and a little hurt. He took a deep breath and found calm again. Until he had visited Rayla, he wouldn’t have known what to do either. It wasn’t fair to expect Omega to know without help.

“Aim for the corner of her eyes. It’s easier that way.” He offered her a smile and Omega tried again, this time leaving a couple little drops in each corner of Vaar’ika’s eyes.

“Perfect,” he said to his sister.  “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” Omega replied.

He was supposed to give the tooka her dewormer pill, but wasn’t sure he could do it and certainly didn’t expect Omega to. He remembered Rayla’s instructions as he sat Vaar’ika on his bed and held the tiny pill between his thumb and finger.

“Simply open her mouth, pop the pill in, and hold her mouth closed until she swallows,” Rayla had said. He hadn’t thought much about it since at the time, he knew it was a future problem and he was only focused on eye drops and establishing some routines.  Now that it came to it, he looked at his little friend and couldn’t just open her mouth.  And what, he thought. Force her to swallow a pill?  It reminded him too much of the procedures he and his brothers had been forced through. He remembered thinking a warning before a necessary injection or asking him if he was ready would have helped him a great deal as a young cadet, yet he had never really been afforded that dignity.

He sighed to himself, picked up Vaar’ika and the pill, and marched to the vet clinic.  Rayla was just finishing with a client and about to go to lunch when he walked in.

“Crosshair!” She beamed at him, happy to see him with the tooka. “And Vaar’ika. How are you?”

“I can’t give her the pill,” he said directly.

“Did she not want it,” Rayla asked. Many animals had trouble taking medication and it wasn’t an uncommon concern.  “Did she spit it up?”

“No,” Crosshair said, revealing he still had the pill in its original form. “I can’t make her take it.”

Rayla sensed a great amount of empathy in him. He seemed scared to hurt this kitten, this small creature he’d already becoming so very attached to.

“She might take it if you mix it in her food. Is she still eating?”

Crosshair nodded.

“Okay,” Rayla acknowledged. “Cut the pill in quarters and put it in her dinner tonight. If she doesn’t eat it all, stop by tomorrow and we’ll see about another way.”

Crosshair nodded again.

“May I,” Rayla asked, hands out to touch the tooka.  Crosshair nodded a third time and Rayla petted the little pile of fluff.  She purred at the vet.

“I’m glad to see her eyes have cleared up,” she said. “She probably doesn’t need the drops anymore after tomorrow. Just keep the rest of the bottle should she need them in the future. She already looks so much better. She’ll need a few vaccines as soon as you feel she’s strong enough and she’ll be old enough to spay in a couple months. Unless you want more kittens.”

Crosshair froze a bit. He’d assumed that was further down the road, but not this soon.  He didn’t want her to get pregnant. He wanted to do the responsible thing for her and was sure Hunter would have a few words with him if there were kittens. Besides, he didn’t want to worry about her going through pregnancy and labor.

“Let’s schedule that now,” he said.

Rayla nodded and pulled up her schedule. He’d be back in a week for the vaccines. They decided on a day for the spaying and she gave him instructions for what to do the night before and day of as far as food and water.

“See you both in a week for vaccines,” she said as they left.

Crosshair held Vaar’ika a little closer to his chest, hugging her before letting her perch on his shoulders. He didn’t like the thought of putting her through surgery or even the vaccinations. He knew they were necessary, but he didn’t want her in pain ever. Still, he knew it was for the best. To help him relax, he took the long way home, chuckling as Vaar’ika hissed at a few moon-yos who tried reaching for her.  His thoughts also went to this veterinarian. Most people on the island were nice enough, but he didn’t let anyone close. This person was watching him at some very vulnerable moments whether she knew it or not.

That evening he cut the dewormer pill up into quarters and mixed it into the tooka food.  He placed the plate down and Vaar’ika started eating. She paused at one point, knowing there was something different, and Crosshair held his breath. She took a taste and didn’t seem to mind and finished the entire thing. He felt so much relief. That night, like every night at this point, the kitten climbed into his bed and slept cuddled up against him. When she got up to stretch her feet or if she needed to go outside, he immediately woke up at the loss of her tiny body’s warmth. Then they’d get back to bed and fall asleep together.

Crosshair started finding reasons to visit the vet clinic in the days leading up to vaccination day. The smallest question about changing her food as she grew, asking questions about exercise, and some of the more mundane things. He knew that he just wanted to see Rayla and have an excuse to get outside with Vaar’ika. Rayla didn’t mind. He always patiently waited if she was already with someone or had an appointment. She liked seeing him and the positive impact the tooka and the sniper had on each other.  She let Crosshair say as much or as little as he wanted. She asked questions but knew when to back off. She wasn’t a completely open book, but she shared parts of herself with him too. He got curious and asked how she ended up on Pabu one day after she’d shown him how to make sure the kitten’s nails didn’t get too long. She explained how she left her home world when the Empire started taking over cities on the other side of her planet. She wasn’t going to wait around to see what would happen.

“Smart,” he replied. Rayla smiled sadly. She missed her former home, but knew she was lucky to be here. The threat of sea surges was much less daunting than dealing with the Empire.

“See you next time, Crosshair.”

He let a tiny smile escape and he left.

When he showed up for the kitten’s scheduled vaccines, he was a bit of a mess. He didn’t want her to be upset or hurt, but he also didn’t want to risk her dying of something preventable.

“I’ll be quick and I’ll use the smallest needle I have,” Rayla promised. “Do you want me to take her in the back and just get it over with or do you want to be with her.”  She knew some animals did better away from their nervous person, but it was very much a case-by-case situation.

“I can’t leave her,” he replied.

Rayla nodded and instinctively put a hand on his arm.  He let out a breath. They went back in the exam room and she weighed the tooka, noticing she’d put on a good amount of weight.

“Would you like to sit and hold her instead of keeping her on the exam table,” the vet asked.

Crosshair nodded and sat down, holding Vaar’ika. A small smile pulled at his cheek and he relaxed as she looked up at him. She wasn’t scared. The little fluff ball was just happy to be with him.

“I’ll be quick. Just two little jabs. Here we go.”  Rayla moved quickly and precisely.  The kitten let out a couple of squeaks, but nothing too bad. After it was over, Rayla smiled as she heard him quietly telling Vaar’ika what a great job she did.  As he was about to leave, Rayla decided to take her chance.

“Hey, not to be too forward,” she started, suddenly feeling very nervous now that she was putting this into words.  Crosshair turned back to look at her curiously.

She continued, trying to keep any shakiness at bay.  “You’ve stopped by a lot and we’ve gotten to know each other more and I was just thinking… if you want to spend some time together after hours, let me know.” 

“Dinner,” he asked.

“I’d like that,” she replied.

“Tomorrow?”

“You know when I close.”

“I’ll be here.”

Both felt a warmth radiate over their cheeks as they said their goodbyes for the day. Crosshair carried his little bundle home while his mind ran wild with all kinds of thoughts. He didn’t want to let his nerves get to him and at the same time, he was giddy at the thought of spending more time with Rayla. He had to grin to himself. She liked his company. He hadn’t gotten very close to anyone who wasn’t a clone. There was an understanding with his brothers. He’d grown up with them. Omega was incredibly understanding of everyone, almost to the point of his annoyance. Even with the regs, there was an understanding. Learning about someone in-depth with a completely different background was a newer experience to him, but he found that Rayla embraced each bit of himself that he revealed. Even when he was having an extra grumpy and stressful day, she seemed happy to see him.

The next evening, he left Vaar’ika with Wrecker and Omega. They were more than happy to babysit the tooka.  They were having a movie night and Crosshair knew she would be doing her utmost to steal their snacks. The thought made him very happy.

He tried to pick out his nicest outfit and headed to the vet clinic.  He sat in the waiting room and listened to Rayla explain the medication dosage for someone’s pet bird. Rayla joined him a few minutes after the bird and their owner left.  She’d quickly changed out of her scrubs and into a simple dress before joining him.

“You look nice,” she said with a smile.

“So do you.”

“I thought I’d try to wear something nicer than my scrubs,” she replied.

“You’d look nice in anything,” he said as heat rose to his cheeks.

Rayla wasn’t sure what to say. She felt seen and beamed up at him.  They headed to a quiet restaurant on the other side of the island. While people all tended to know each other on Pabu, they both wanted some time just the two of them so the calmer spot seemed more ideal. They ordered and sat while watching the sun start to set.

“I’ll level with you,” Rayla said. “I’ve talked to your siblings. I feel like I know quite a bit about you, but I want to learn about you from you.”

He simply nodded. “Not much to say,” he replied.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Rayla asked him some questions, wanted to know a bit about sniping, and how he liked the island.  She was also interested in his enhanced skills. The scientist in her was curious, but she wanted to keep it respectful. Crosshair’s comments were short as usual, but as time went by and they ate, he shared a bit more about himself. For now, they avoided the topic of the Empire.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said before taking a sip of his drink. He was much more interested in learning about her than talking about himself.

“I think you already know a lot about me from our earlier conversations,” she answered.

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully with a bit of a smile on his face. “Have you always worked alone? You do so much.”

“I had a vet tech until I came here. Actually, I purchased a GH-7 medical droid recently and I’m trying to modify it for veterinary work.”

“Tech will be pleased to hear that,” Crosshair replied. “He loves those kinds of projects. He’ll pick your brain next time he sees you.” Crosshair was pleased too. He saw how hard she worked and felt she needed a bit of a break sometimes. Having an assistant could go a long way in helping make her job easier.

“I’m sure. If I run into trouble Tech’s the first person I’d ask for help when it comes to droids.” She took a couple more bites of food and added, “Of course it helps to have the personal touch and I’ll still be very involved. It’ll just help to have a droid to do some of the more routine and boring things, measuring out and compounding medication, answering comms, billing, ordering supplies, passing my tools during surgeries, and making sure procedures are as precise as possible.” She then told a story about a droid she knew in vet school who was reprogrammed to only want to work on massiffs. A couple of her fellow vet students thought it would be funny for the professor’s droid to randomly refuse to help with other animals during demonstrations and who tried to switch places with other droids so it could work exclusively on massiffs. He watched her with a soft smile on his face while she told this story. As she finished, she paused for a moment.

“Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to go on. It was just a silly thing to watch unfold.”

“No, I liked it,” he replied. He didn’t want her to stop. “Dessert?”

She beamed and nodded. They shared a piece of cake topped with all kinds of local fruit. He let her have the last bite but hoped it wouldn’t be the last time they shared a meal.  He walked her home and once at the door bit his lip as his eyes darted a bit.

“Could we do this again,” he asked.

“What are you doing on Benduday?”

Each date felt a little more comfortable than the last. His favorite dates were whenever they would go out on a boat together just the two of them. It was incredibly peaceful and gave him the chance to be a bit more open without worrying about anyone else around them.

One evening she was supposed to meet him at the restaurant and didn’t. He’d brought flowers and wore a new shirt and definitely didn’t love the feeling of sitting at the table alone. He thought to himself that this was the first time in a long time where he was consistently seeking the presence of another instead of solitude. Before he could spiral and let too many negative thoughts enter his mind, he decided to check at the clinic. He knew there might have been an emergency that required her attention.  When he arrived, the clinic door was unlocked and he saw a light coming from an exam room.  He let himself in and sat in the waiting area.

In the exam room, Rayla explain the situation to the worried owner. Her scans indicated a foreign object blocking the stomach and she and GHost – the now modified GH-7 droid – completed surgery to remove the offending mass. She sent the patient and their person home with a course of medication to help. Not long after they left, Rayla came out to find Crosshair dozing in his chair.  She walked up to him and kissed his forehead.

“Mm.” He opened his eyes to look up at her. “Missed you.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It was an emergency.”

“I know,” he replied, standing up and kissing her cheek. “These are for you.”

She took the flowers and kissed him again. “They’re lovely. Thank you.”  After a pause and check of the time, she added, “I’ll clean up quickly. Walk me home?”

He simply nodded. She cleaned off all the equipment and the table in the exam room, turned out the lights, and took his hand. They took their time walking together. It was a pleasant night and both were a little sad they didn’t get to have a relaxing dinner together.

“We should go out after Vaar’ika heals from her spay surgery,” Rayla suggested, knowingly adding, “I know you won’t want to leave her until she’s all healed up.”

“I just want to make sure she’ll be okay,” he answered. “But yes. I’d like that.”

She squeezed his hand and they grinned at each other.

The night before Vaar’ika’s spay, Crosshair was a mess. He barely slept. The only thing that calmed him down was the little tooka herself. She had no idea what was coming but was simply living in the moment and in this moment, she wanted to sleep on his chest. He sat in front of a holovid with his family and slowly stroked the her soft fur. They fell asleep together as usual, but the next morning, his jitters were back.

He walked her to the clinic, letting her perch on his shoulder, but carrying a crate since she would still be drowsy on the way home and Rayla insisted she needed a crate to limit movement while she healed.

“Good morning,” Rayla said as they came through the door. “Ready?”

Crosshair didn’t respond but tried to smile.

“She’s going to do great. I even have my droid GHost ready to go, unless you aren’t comfortable with him assisting me.”

Crosshair simply shook his head that he didn’t mind. “I trust you.”

Rayla took Vaar’ika and the crate as Crosshair tried to decide if he wanted to sit or pace. Her experience said that getting this over with was the best plan. Her voice softened and she tried to reassure him.

“It won’t take long. I’ll make sure she has pain management and that she’s fully anesthetized, so she doesn’t feel anything during the procedure.”

He nodded and sat down.  Rayla took the tooka to the back to prepare her for surgery. GHost weighed her and drew the appropriate levels of medication. As the tooka went to sleep and Rayla shaved her belly, Crosshair could hear the calm way she addressed his little companion.

“Looks like you’re asleep already. Oxygen levels and heart rate are normal. Let’s begin.” It wasn’t long before Crosshair heard her say, “There’s that little uterus. Tiny thing. Already out. Let’s close.”

Crosshair started shaking but breathed through it. The adrenaline that was coursing through his system all morning had finally started to wear off and it left him feeling a bit dizzy. He sat back and focused on his breathing while he heard the woman he loved talking sweetly to Vaar’ika.  Not long after, Rayla reappeared with a sleepy tooka in the crate. Without thinking about it, Crosshair embraced her as he became overwhelmed with relief.

“She did great, love. She really did. She should heal up perfectly.”  Rayla went over care instructions and ended it with “She should stay in her crate as much as possible for the first week. No climbing or jumping. I used surgical glue that has some bacta in it so she will heal faster. Try to keep that cone on her so she doesn’t lick.” Crosshair nodded. “And comm me if anything comes up.”

Vaar’ika slept most of the day. She whined a bit at dinner time and Crosshair let her outside only long enough to relieve herself and then it was back inside before she could go exploring. She seemed like her normal self but was also pretty groggy. He ate in his room so he could watch her and made sure she took her medication and ate enough. That night, he knew he was supposed to let her sleep in her crate, but the drugs from earlier had worn off enough that she knew exactly where she was and didn’t understand why she wasn’t allowed to sleep in bed with him. She cried until he relented and purred as she snuggled up against him in his comfortable bed.

The next morning was the hardest. She felt an ache at the incision site and it clearly hurt her to move compared to yesterday, despite the pain medication. He tried not to think too hard about it, feeling unsure of when to ask for help and what was normal. She’d had surgery after all, it was impossible for her to feel completely healed in less than a single day.  He laid around the house with her, cuddling her close since that seemed to help her stay more comfortable. He was grumpier with his siblings, though. He tried to keep to himself, but once Omega and Wrecker started playing and making a bit of a racket, he took Vaar’ika to the clinic. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was going. He didn’t think it was an emergency, but knew Rayla would be done with her work, barring anything urgent. He sat in the waiting room and talked gently to the little ball of tired fluff laying in his arms. He rhythmically stroked her fur, but didn’t feel her usual happy purr.

“She okay,” Rayla asked, appearing as she finished cleaning up the exam room.

“Not sure,” Crosshair replied.

“Mind if I look?”

Crosshair handed the tooka over to Rayla who carefully turned her over.

“Looks like it’s healing fine. Don’t see any sign of infection. She might just be in a bit more pain than anticipated. I can give her an extra little med patch if you want to try that.”

Crosshair nodded. As Rayla retrieved a patch and cut it down to the right size, she asked, “What else is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a lot on your mind and you look… gruff.”

He shook his head and let out a breath.  “Just worried about her and it’s loud at home.”

“Well, you’re welcome to have some quiet time here. I have some paperwork to do, some blood tests to analyze, and then I’m headed home. You’re welcome to join me if the two of you need a change of pace.”

Crosshair’s eyes warmed and he returned her familiar smile.  He sat back down and went back to petting Vaar’ika until she fell asleep. The patch seemed to help her feel better and by extension, he felt better.  Rayla worked nearby, looking through her datapad, taking inventory, and updating her notes as she went along. The rest of the day went by without a hitch. It was a good day when there were no major emergencies. She made sure her comm was on, knowing that some days no one needed her until she left for home. She packed up and walked home with Crosshair and Vaar’ika.  As they headed down the road, she broke the silence.

“She hasn’t slept in her crate, has she?”

Crosshair grinned almost shyly. “She’s used to sleeping with me. She stays still.”

“As long as she’s still. Don’t want her hurting her incision.”

The evening was perfectly quiet. They ate a simple meal and cleaned up together while Vaar’ika napped in the armchair. Later, they found themselves in bed together for the first time. Crosshair lifted his arm and pulled Rayla to his side. She laid an arm around his waist while Vaar’ika curled up in the crook of his neck. He felt his heartbeat syncing with Rayla’s. She smiled and kissed his cheek before she closed her eyes. They soaked in each other’s warmth and fell asleep.

[bradshawsbitch]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎↠ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 - ⅳ ↞

⁘ bradley bradshaw, the notoriously ill mannered head chef at the small franchise pub down the street, is quite content with his fast paced job. no commitments or obligations outside of his kingdom of sharp knives, pots, pans, prep work and a shot of jäger after a double. that is until a new waitress is hired, and suddenly his strict and rigid rules of no obligations or commitments starts to waver. . .

› pairing; bradley bradshaw x f!reader

word count; ~ 2.1K

× chapter warnings; swearing, flirting, somewhat forced close proximity

disclaimer; I am basing most of the chefs/waitresses on people I have worked with/encountered. Most of their traits will be as realistic as possible.

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“Can you work pastry today?”

A deep, raspy voice echoed from far away. The morning light had barely made it into your apartment windows, and you were just sitting up on the edge of the bed to start your morning. You’d answered without checking your caller ID - you’d just figured it was your mother.

But the deep tenor that sounded after your swift ‘hello?’ had a shiver running down your spine. Inhaling deeply with surprise from the realization, the phone escaped its spot against your ear. Fumbling fingers tried to save it, only making it fly more erratically through the air, before it inevitably landed with a final thud on your carpet.

“Shit, shit, shit!” scrambling to your knees, you reached for the phone before putting it back against your awaiting ear.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” the reply was slightly breathless, from the slight heart attack and scramble to save your phone. On the other end of the line, someone cleared their throat before speaking again.

“We’re kind of in the shit in the kitchens today. Mickey’s down with a stomach bug, Jake’s out of town, and Nathaniel, who would be my next bet, is visiting his sick mother.” Bradley sounded like he was battling a headache, and you could almost see the way he rubbed his furrowed brows so clearly in your mind's eye it made you smile softly.  

“Alright, and you want me on pastry? Wouldn’t it be better to grab John, or Angie?” you weren’t exactly afraid to voice your opinions to Bradley, even if he’d ignored you mostly ever since the night you’d been crying in his office. He’d speak to you if you asked him anything work-related, but his answers were always short. 

“I’ll be honest, that was my first thought. But there’s that large booking tonight, and they’re both needed. The restaurant owner said they were important people or whatever, so he wanted them served by his best - no offense." He added the last part on the fly, it seemed. 

“None taken.” you let out a soft laugh, now he wanted to offer you no offense? 

“So, I figured if I’m there, manning the grill and you manage the cold shit, we could make it work. I’ll prep most of it before you arrive, and then I’ll show you how to work it before service starts. Besides that large booking, it looks like it’ll be a slow day.” 

Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you nodded to yourself before telling Bradley you’d do it. He sounded relieved when he told you when to arrive and where to find chef’s robes. By now anxious butterflies were swirling in your stomach, and you cursed yourself as you braided your hair into two neat plaits to keep it out of your face as you made your way out of your flat and into your small car. 

Arriving at work, you trekked up the stairs to the changing rooms. You remembered Bradley had told you the chef’s robes were at the racks by the men’s changing rooms, and you slowly made your way there. The door was wide open, as it usually was seeing as it wasn’t a room you generally passed if you weren’t looking for a new uniform.

As you approached, you saw Bradley’s chef’s robe completely open as he fumbled while buttoning his trousers. Eyes widening, you swiftly grabbed the first top and bottom you could find, letting out a small squeak as you booked it to the women's changing rooms. 

Collapsing onto the closed door of your locker, you mouth out ‘oh my god’ as the visual of Bradley’s bare abs circulated wildly within your mind's eye. Taking a shaky breath, you swiftly got dressed in too large robes as you made your way downstairs. 

Fiddling with your too long sleeves, you stumbled into the kitchen where Bradley was finishing up the prep work for your station, his was already fixed. At the sound of your footfalls, Bradley’s beautiful brown eyes snapped to look at you, a peculiar emotion swirling in them.

“Hi chef!” you smiled softly, glancing up at him before continuing to fiddle with your sleeve. “Thanks for helping out today, Bambi” Bradley rumbled out, pausing for a moment before telling you what dishes were pre-ordered for the large booked table this evening. He noticed, however, that your attention was more focused on getting the sleeve to stay up your forearm than his words, and he sighed wearily before stepping closer to you.

His calloused fingertips graced your inner forearm as he slid the fabric upwards, folding it a couple of times before securing it above your elbow. Blinking, you stared dumbfounded at Bradley’s face, his hair that peaked out under his hat, his neatly trimmed mustache, and that shapely cupid's bow…

He repeated the process on your other sleeve, before leaving the close proximity between the two of you. Biting your lip, you had to keep from letting out a noise as he started dancing around the small pastry space, rambling on about food. His scent had been overwhelming, and the body heat he radiated had you slightly dizzy.

As service begins, you find your nerves dissipating more and more as time goes on. Bradley even gently encourages you when he can tell you’re freezing up with insecurity over plating or timing. After a few hours, you’ve not only relaxed and managed to make most of the entrees and desserts on your own, you’ve made Bradley smile five times, and laugh twice. When you’ve sent out the large tables first course, you slink over to Bradley’s side at his request to help him plate. 

“Alright, Bambs, remember - terrine first, meat, and then sauce - alright? And when I move behind you you stay still, okay?” Bradley’s voice was level, and he held your eyes with his own to see you copied. “Mhm!” you squeaked out, putting on plastic gloves as you put up as many plates on the counter as it could hold. 

“Alright then, start plating the terrines then,” he offered you another rare side smile, moving towards the grill to start putting the finished steaks on a warmed up skillet. Moving swiftly, you accidentally dropped the first terrine on the floor. You cursed softly under your breath - it had been hotter than you realized. Looking over your shoulder, worriedly, you saw Bradley shake his head “No worries, Bambi - I made more than we needed. Keep going.” 

Letting out a sigh of relief you started over, starting to work up a routine as Bradley moved behind you to put meat on the plates you’d already put terrines on. As you finished with the terrines, you were about to move to fetch the sauce-pan, as Bradley had instructed earlier. 

“Hey, hey, behind, sweetheart” eyes widened as they almost came in contact with Rooster’s broad chest, and you giggled somewhat nervously before lowering your gaze and slinking past Bradley’s broad form as he chuckled. You’d heard Bradley call Mir and Angie sweetheart sometimes - but never you. It felt pathetic the way it made your chest feel tight and those damn butterflies appeared in the pit of your stomach again. 

Finishing off the plates, the two of you wiped the sides of them before ringing the little bell that would usually have you scrambling to reach the kitchens from the dining hall. 

“I have to admit, that bell makes me react very strangely when I’m in here,” you smiled at Bradley as you fixed a strand of your hair that had fallen before your eyes, back into your cap.

He smirked softly at you “And yet, it always takes you so long to get in here…” he teased. Opening your mouth in mock surprise, you swatted at Bradley with the cloth you had slung over your shoulder, he only laughed, grabbing a hold of the other end of the cloth, pulling it into his own hands as it slipped out of your fingers. Rolling your eyes, you exited Bradley’s side to resume your duties on pastry, looking at the two new tickets that had come in.

A small smile was still apparent on your lips as you made the two ice cream desserts, taking extra care with the whipped cream - spending time fixing the strawberries and chocolate sauce to your liking, before ringing the bell with a happy grin. 

Looking up, you frowned. The warm plates that Bradley and you had fixed were still there.

“Bradley… it’s been almost four minutes! Those will get cold! Where is everyone?” you looked worriedly towards the door that led to the dining hall. Bradley glanced at you and chuckled before looking at the plates “Yup, they’re almost dead,” he frowned slightly before slamming his large palm down on the bell, making it ring out angrily in rapid succession - something you hated when you were in the front of the restaurant. You understood the urgency now though. 

“Those look real good, by the way,” Bradley commented, nodding towards your desserts. “Way better than Mickey,” he winked jokingly, and you felt heat spread slowly across your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you looked at your creations, a feeling of pride filling you at Bradley’s praise. 

“They’re starting to melt now though…” you pouted, furrowing your brows, considering for only a moment before you too let your palm slam down on your own bell harshly.

Bradley let out the loudest laugh of the night at that before he howled “Atta girl!” you grinned at him, leveling him with a look. And it seemed as if understanding passed before the two of you as you simultaneously slammed your hands down on your bells - making them ring in tandem at different pitches. 

Bradley’s low chuckles mingled with your giggles as a flustered John and Angie came running into the kitchens. Bradley’s face immediately fell and turned sour as they approached, and his tone took the all too familiar tone it usually did when it reprimanded you. He chewed them out before telling them to hurry the fuck up. 

“... and Bambi’s desserts are melting! Get a fucking move on!” he added at the end, sending you a conspiratorial wink, before turning back to his ovens and grill. In spite of the warmth that spread in your stomach and the grin on your face, you took pity on Ange and John, and swiftly grabbed the ice creams and went out into the front of the restaurant to deliver them to the table. 

The rest of the shift is spent joking around with Bradley, getting to know him just a smidge more, and slowly letting yourself act the way you usually do around your other co-workers with him. As he riles you up with jibes at the wait staff, you give as good as he does, and he balks at some of your more risque jokes and comebacks. Those times make you smirk to yourself as you clean up your station at the end of the shift. 

Waving goodbye to Bradley, you let out a giddy squeak as you sat in your car, letting out a long sigh of happiness as sparks flew through you at rapid speed. You couldn’t wait to come back to work tomorrow, having ended this shift on such a good note with Bradley.

As you fell asleep that night, you envision that Bradley might treat you as he treated Mir and Angie now, maybe even how he treated Mickey. You saw before you greeting him with a smile and getting one of those gorgeous ones back. Imagined making him laugh and making a point of hurrying into the kitchen, maybe slamming the bell jokingly if he wasn't at his station. The smile that tugged at the corners of your lips didn’t wane as sleep overtook you. 

The next day you giddily fixed your hair and makeup a little extra, spent a little extra time picking out jeans that hugged your curves and made your ass look just that little bit more juicy, and a black tight top that complimented your figure, before taking care to leave a little extra early to work.

Dancing into the kitchen, you saw Jake was back behind the kitchen counters, and he greeted you happily as your sunny grin spread sunshine around the otherwise silent room. 

“Hiya Chef!” you sang happily to Bradley, leaning on the counter to let your starry eyes meet his. You saw his jaw clench, his brown eyes that had been alight with mirth and kindness yesterday was once again cold and stand-offish. Blinking in confusion as Bradley swallowed hard, you tilted your head slightly at his reaction. You reached out, looking to see if anything had happened to him, when he uttered one dismissing word in greeting;

“Flounder.” 

It felt like a punch in the gut. He had looked away from you, disinterested as he continued to work. As if you weren’t there. As if yesterday had never happened at all. As if he hadn’t promised not to call you that anymore.

Drawing in a sharp breath, you turned swiftly to walk back to the front of the restaurant, a leaden weight sinking deep into the pit of your stomach as you ignored the way tears burned behind your lids.

next chapter

ahhh rooster what the fuck?? ugh I love him. stupid man! sorry for the wait for this! how are we feeling???

[countrymusiclover]

12 - Telling Will

Part 13

Dr. Redheaded Neighbor

Tag list - send an ask to be added @annieradcliff @watermeezer @zaidatorcuatomorgado @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @melvia-ito

Please comment your thoughts and any ideas you have for this story

Parking my car outside of the hospital and in the parking lot. Getting out of the car I zipped up my firehouse 51 jacket heading towards the direction of the hospital entrance. I knew I needed to tell Will sooner rather than later. Going through the emergency doors in search of my boyfriend. Rounding the corner past the nurse's desk I found his familiar ginger hair. “Will! Hey, can I talk to you for a second if you’re not swamped.”

“Um, yeah I could use a minute to calm down.” He responded leading me into the area where their lockers were located to keep their none work items.

Shutting the door behind me after I walked in the room watching my boyfriend pacing the room back and forth with his chest heaving up and down with heavy breaths. “Are you okay, Will?”

“My – my father is in the hospital. My brother is here too and our dad ain’t looking too good.” He finally admitted.

I covered my mouth with a hand not sure what else to say. “Oh Will. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah it sucks cause I can’t be on to help him either with it being the hospital policy and everything. I just - I don’t know what to do. What’s uh – going on with you, Mal?” He asked me sitting down at the round table inside the locker room.

I paused clicking my tongue debating on whether or not I should tell him the truth. “I got a call from my Lieutenant this morning.”

“And what did he say?” He questioned softly.

I sighed dropping my shoulders heavily. “I might have to go-“

“Will, it’s your dad. He’s coding.” The head nurse named Maggie poked her head inside cutting me off.

Will and I ran out into the hallway of the ED and inside his dad’s room. I remained standing in the doorway seeing an older man laying flat on a hospital bed and alarms flashing on the computer screen with Will checking for a pulse. “No pulse. Bag him.”

“Wait he’s your dad. Shouldn’t another doctor run the code.” A blonde nurse touched his arm.

Will began pushing up and down on his dads chest. “You got one handy.”

“What’s going on here?” I heard a guys voice causing me to glance over seeing a guy that looked similar to Will just without the red hair coming into the room meaning it had to be his brother Jay.

Will had to shock his father a couple of times before the vital screening returned to somewhat normal as far as I could tell. “Get me Sam to check him out…” Will brushed past me and headed back into the room we had previously been in.

“Will. Will!” I called his name spinning around on my feet running after him and pushing my way through the door back into the locker room. “Hey, why are you calling in another doctor. I thought you’re dad was okay after some wave lines came back on the screen.”

He rested his hands against the metal locker. “They won’t last, Mallory. He’s - he’s already gone.”

“You’re saying he’s dead.”

He swallowed thickly nodding his head yes still never looking in my direction. “He’s brain dead. He ain’t coming back – the machine is the only thing keeping him alive right now.”

“Will, I’m so sorry.” I felt sorry for him and I knew I shouldn’t give him more bad news that I would be deployed out for another tour in a few months. He already had enough on his plate for today so I slowly walked about to leave the room.

But he called out to me by nickname with a croaking voice. “Mal, will you stay with me?”

“I don’t want to intrude on you and your brother grieving. That wouldn’t be the right thing to do. Besides I can’t have Brett covering my shift for much longer.”

Will turned around extended a hand out for me to take, sending me puppy dog eyes with tears. “Mal, please. I – I don’t want to be alone right now.”

I sighed deciding that he needed me more in this moment than the rest of the world. Crossing the room I wrapped my arms around his waist and he buried his head in the crook of my neck letting some tears finally fall. I slowly ran my fingers through his hair while we just stood there holding onto the other needing comfort.

“Thank you – um can we talk about something else right now. What did you come here to tell me earlier?” He drew his head back looking down at me.

I sucked in a shacky breath, holding onto his forearms. “I – I don’t know if this is the best time to tell you what my Lieutenant said to me.”

“Come on, Mal. It probably isn’t as bad as this. You can tell me anything remember.” He reminded me.

Slumping my shoulders I shut my eyes not being able to look him in the eye when I told him what was happening. “He told me this morning that they need to deploy me and Maxon out for another tour. He believes I will be deployed out in a few months give or take.”

“Mallory, It’s gonna be okay.” Was the words I heard coming from his mouth.

Lifting my head up from his red scrub shirt I sniffed through tears. “It is – but I thought – I thought you’d be upset about this. I mean we didn’t plan – even think this was going to happen. I was done with my tour because of my leg brace, at least that’s what I assumed-“

“Mal, look at me. I’m not gonna be upset over something out of your control. That would make me out to be an asshole of a boyfriend.”

I started crying happy tears this time laying my head on his chest, gently gripping his fabric of his scrubs. Will wrapped his arms around my waist resting his chin back on my head enjoying that he had calmed me down over this scary situation that was coming into our lives. “I was so afraid you’d be upset about me having to leave. I’m - I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you and Maxon too. But knowing you you’ll get through this with no problem.” Will gave me a smile kissing my forehead. “Now let’s not focus on this. It took us this long to be together, that’s all that is important right now.”

I went back to our apartment building to spend time with Maxon until Will got done with his hospital shift. Yet unknown to me he took a detour before actually coming home visiting his brothers apartment on the other side of town. Jay opened the door seeing his older brother standing in the doorway. “What’s going on, Will?”

“Do you still got mom’s wedding ring?” He asked him where his younger brother let him walk inside disappearing to get the ring from the safe. Will smiled looking at the same picture that his girlfriend had on her phone with Maxon stuck in between the pair.

[cozzzynook]

Someone doing something to Drift causing him to be Deadlock again. He recognizes Ratchet and although he's weary he trusts him and is the only person he doesn't attack.

He doesn't trust Rodimus who feels horrible and is trying to be supportive. When Ratchet brings Deadlock back to their room Rodimus is inside and Deadlock thinks he's breaking in. He attacks Rodimus and sends him to the medbay with a broken arm and bruised neck.

They decide it would be best that for the time being Rodimus stays somewhere else. The entire time he's depressed and not doing well.

Omg yes!!!!

I both love & feel the feels towards this!!!

Big brain babes! Big brain!!

Poor Rodimus and Drift.

I just know Rodimus is worrying for Drift and Drift is traumatized all over again when he turns back. Poor mech.

As Deadlock he’s so different and yet so similar and Rodimus didn’t really think it through when he approached nor when he got a bit too close for comfort and received a deep gash that he had to get treated.

He tells Ratchet its fine and that he doesn’t wanna tell Drift who did it. As Deadlock he has no idea its him they’re talking about nor does he care. He just wants to get away from the mech that makes him feel weird.

Ratchet is ready to disagree when Rodimus cuts him off and says he should take Deadlock to their habsuite, and man that hurts them both to hear and Rodimus feels his glossa thicken at how wrong it feels but how strong A possibility it’d once been and how no matter what it still ended up being the outcome. He’s lost them, he feels. The two were conjunx before adding him and he’s always wondered how long or if it could last.

Seems he’s got his answer even if he knows they’re working on a way to change him back.

Time goes on and he notices the way the two have a natural chemistry between them that he’s never been able to just flow into. Not even when Deadlock was Drift.

It reminds him of all their differences and how out of place he looks besides them. How out of place he always looks no matter where he goes.

He takes to spending time away from not only his partners but every bot making up the crew. Rodimus had kept to himself in his office using his couch as a berth much to his spoiler’s dismay.

He couldn’t go back to the hab they all shared and he wouldn’t take up a cot in the medbay so he figured the next best thing was his office.

Megatron vehemently denied this when he caught the speedster in uncomfortable recharge after immediately noticing his optic bags and drooping spoiler. Not to mention his dull paint job accompanied by his lack of energy and poorly healing gash.

Rodimus doesn’t push Megatron away when the large mech lifts him from his couch and takes him back to his own hab. Where he changes the gauze on his bandages after cleaning the wound with careful digits that trace the seams of his cords making him shiver.

The touch is gentle and personal in a way he’s never bothered questioning. A habit really, to accept whatever touch and movement the large mech gives.

Rodimus doesn’t think when he feels the mech lower him into a steaming oil solvent bath. He’s much too comfortable and lost within to do anything beside lay his helm back and close his optics as large servos gently unclasp his chassis and reveal vulnerable soft pouches that make him whimper.

A kiss to his helm for comfort is what gives them both focus and ground as gray and black servos check his barely flickering spark.

Its the beginning signs of an episode and he knows the mech he once laid with outside of battle as Hot rod is comming First Aid to bring his medicine to his suite.

A servo rests on his spark casing, the other accidentally brushes the sides of a flat tank that once made it impossible to stand.

They both curl into the other at the thought penetrating their psyches at once.

The connection that never went away with distance or time feels as fresh and deep as the day they created it.

It hurts.

Heals.

Torments him.

Fills him with silence after his screams. Vision blurred and frame staggering to lift as he reached before falling. The slow crawl and opening of his chassis was not enough, not with his spark weak from pain and dysfunction.

Neither of them had been able to do a thing.

Its something that haunts them when forced to confront it.

With Drift and Ratchet he can float keeping it at bay but here or alone he never grants a moments peace with the knowledge he failed.

“My sun,”

“Don’t,” he whispers, optics shedding fluid. “I have to go.”

A comm pings them both and Megatron knows he’s right. He can read the younger with such ease it scares him. A feeling he knows the other has with how naturally he manages to comfort and assure Megatron without words or meeting his optics.

The two always stayed away from each other for sake of privacy and secrecy. But Deadlock had watched Rodimus more than the flame mech knew.

He noticed how Megatron laid gentle touches just below the yellow spoiler or how a thumb brushed along red hip platinng in a gesture of safety and long carried feelings.

Deadlock also noticed how the red mech didn’t push the warlord away. How easy he melted to such touches, how different he looked when it was just the two. How they shared a feeling of pain none of the others were aware of.

Deadlock could see how Rodimus was tense in videos with a mech named Drift and his Ratchet. He’d found a lot of the videos with just Ratchet and the mech named Drift before eventually seeing Rodimus being added.

Deadlock by no means was a bolt brain. He could tell Drift was him. He just couldn’t fathom why he changed to look like that.

It soothed something inside him both old and foreign to know he’s with Ratchet and he can’t deny seeing the red and yellow speedster as very attractive and even funny. But he’s not sure why the red and yellow mech is even with him and Ratchet if he has such easy chemistry with the now former warlord who looks at the other like he needed him as the stars in their galaxy needed the infinite of space to exist.

He didn’t bring it up with Ratchet.

He wanted to watch the two more closely before saying anything.

He didn’t exactly feel bad for landing that gash across the flame speedster but he did want to check to see if the damage was healing.

He found a moment in time where the two were far apart and Ratchet was in the medbay.

He’d done something he wouldn’t typically do but the mech before him made him feel things he’s only ever associated with Ratchet.

So touching the mechs hip and tank instead above where the gash lay, he found himself being shoved off harshly with flaming servos melting his plating as a distress rev of his engine and vocal cords called out leaving him stunned at the panic in the youngers optics.

No. Not panic.

Terror.

The kid felt terror at something so simple.

He knows he hurt the kid but he didn’t he hurt him that bad. Not when the kid would give him sad gentle smiles and polite waves that looked like they hurt his spark when he would pass him by with Ratchet. The kid looked like he wanted to stand beside them but knew his place wasn’t there anymore. And for every time he saw that look, there was Megatron showing alien kindness by comforting the mech with something far deeper than the kinship Ratchet said the two held.

So he wasn’t too surprised seeing Megatron appear by the captains back and hold him tight to his chassis. Spark to spark as he looked him over with his canon and blade ignited.

What was surprising was him going through a literal steel and concrete wall unfazed while other mechs were just in shock from the display.

It was Megatron whispering something in Rodimus audial that got the mech to snap back to reality, breaking into tears that went unseen as he hid his face plates in Megatrons neck cables.

The former warlord looked like he wanted to hurt something and someone but he also looked…defeated.

Something no bot on either side had seen even after he changed sides.

Ratchet caught sight of the end of their interaction before checking Deadlock over asking what happened.

Deadlock waited until they were in the privacy of their hab to tell Ratchet he doesn’t think their captain had just a kinship with his cocaptain.

“He answered a distress call. It’s something Nyonians used to do when in deep pain among other reasons. Megatron was on the other side of the ship and barreled through a wall to get to him. That call was for amica or conjunx. You said Drift and Rodimus were amica. I know I’m Drift Ratchet and that call wasn’t for me.”

“Kid..what..when did you know?”

“A few weeks ago. I wanted to be sure before I said anything about those two though. I’m not saying he’s cheating on you or future me. I’m just saying something is there thats older than the time spent on this ship. Something they kept to themselves that they didn’t want anyone finding out.”

Ratchet pinched his olfactory sensor with a deep sigh because he knows Deadlock is right. He’d been watching Rodimus too and he could see how hurt the kid was keeping his distance but he could also see how Megatron genuinely couldn’t stand to see the kid so hurt. Whereas Ratchet gave sympathetic glances and kept watch over Rodimus, Megatron actively went out his way to comfort the younger.

“Frag,” his shoulder plating drooped and he sighed heavily, “The kid has his reasons I’m sure.”

“But to not tell us and he’s supposed to be a partner of sorts?”

“Well..”

“We’re conjunx. I can feel it. Even now,” Deadlock informed the old medic who looked surprised. “I even feel something for the little speeder, but I know we aren’t conjunx with him. Why?”

“We..we never asked him,” Ratchet spoke like air left his vents, “and he never asked us,” he looked down.

“That leads me to my next question that was confirmed earlier when I touched him,” Deadlock spoke, “where is his sparkling?”

“Kid what?”

Ratchet looked exasperated at the mere mention of a sparkling and Rodimus having one.

“Kid he doesn’t have-”

“Yes he does,” Deadlock interrupted, “I’ve seen him zone out touching his tanks the way carriers do. Earlier today I touched his hip and tank while his back was turned and he was zoned out. Thats what gave that reaction. He has a sparkling Ratchet. What I want to know is where or if he’s sparked now.”

Ratchet took that as his moment to sit down and stare into nothing thinking it through.

He’d know if the kid was sparked now which he wasn’t. Rodimus wore two baffles instead of the standard one. The kid was by no means sparked. So that left him with only one other option.

“We ask him tomorrow. Perceptor and Brainstorm have the processor and frame ray complete and await us tomorrow to change you back. After you rest, we ask him then. Deal?”

“Will I have my memories from now?”

“Yes,” Ratchet promised.

So deadlock agreed and by the next day he was back to being Drift with all his memories of what happened and a happiness to be back to himself and hug his conjunx.

“Ratty?”

“Hm?”

Ratchet was still drunk on the scent and feeling of having Drift in his arms this way, so much so he almost forgot what they agreed to.

“Oh yeah,” Ratchet felt bad for forgetting Rodimus and Drift felt bad for hurting him like that but knowing Rodimus he wouldn’t hold it against them.

None of the crew abroad had seen either of their co captains so Ratchet figured they try Megatrons hab and surely enough they were both there.

With a knock on the door it was answered but not by Rodimus who they figured wouldn’t since it wasn’t his hab.

“Drift? Ratchet? I see they’ve changed you back. Good to see. I’ll wake Rodimus and alert him of your presence. Just give me a moment?”

It wasn’t much of a question but the two nodded as he went back into his hab and closed the door. They noticed how tired he looked and the paint transfer on his neck cable and chassis. It didn’t feel sexual by any means but that didn’t make them feel better.

Because a moment later they saw Rodimus with gray and black paint transfers and signs of tear tracks that littered both their frames.

“Drift, I’m glad you’re okay. Ratchet.”

Rodimus didn’t make an attempt to hug either of them but his smile was genuine even if it was tainted with sadness.

“I’ll um..I’ll come by you guys hab later okay?”

“Roddy? Our hab..its all our habs..”

“Oh well, yeah,” his spoiler didn’t bounce as he tried to make it and they noticed how he shrunk in on himself.

And how Megatron was able to put a servo on his lower back along with the concern in his stained optics.

“I..I’ll come back to our hab later on, okay? I just need to finish up some things first,” he looked like he was in pain and they knew their guess was right when Megatron spoke next.

“It’s time to take your medicine. First Aid was very specific about having it before the signs got worse.”

“I,” the sigh and frustration building in Rodimus frame and optics with balled servos wasn’t to be ignored by any of the mechs but a rub of Megatrons servo along Rodimus hip and a poke to his chassis made the younger deflate and pout a little.

“Alright fine,” he looked to Ratchet and Drift, “I’m really glad you’re okay Drift. You two should get some alone time together before I get back. You gotta miss each other like this yeah?”

Somehow it felt worse knowing Rodimus didn’t mean anything spiteful or mean by it. He genuinely was just sad and saying how he truly felt.

With one last smile Rodimus lets Megatron move him into the hab and they see him go for spark medicine before laying in a nest on the berth.

There’s a little plush in the center thats old but well taken care of. Ratchet snd Drift recognize it from miner culture. When their partner was sparked or they adopted a sparkling of their very own they’d make a plush by servo for them. The little plush even held a bit of Nyon culture to it. The colors were bright like the people of Nyon and the sight of Rodimus looking at it so entranced and zoned out gave answer to their question.

Megatron bid them farewell with a nod before returning his attention to the plush and Rodimus.

As the door closed they saw the two curled together with the plush in the middle and something broke inside both of them as they realized why the two were so close.

-

My brain does this thing where it goes off to another idea while trying to Incorporate the idea brought to me. I hope this is something you can still enjoy

[oracleofsecrets]

Made a cool embroidered pendant thing for my wretched mother

Seed beads, embroidery floss, fabric scrap and matching sewing thread, hidden stock card circle in the back, bit of wire, two connectors(? Spacers? I forgot what they’re called. Got them in the jewelry-rings and charms aisle at Michaels) and superglue

It’s about 1.5” diameter (the needles are my Big yarn/tapestry needles lol)

{Director’s Commentary under Read More}

Raspberries was chain stitch outline/fill, then just some straight stitches along the chain outline with beads added, some French knots in the middle for height, then adding beads in the middle by putting the needle through the French knots

Leaflets are woven picot. One berry I did the leaflets After stitching the berry and beads, the other I did leaflets Before berry and beads. Each has their charm, I think

(Sloppy) stem stitch for the vine. Should have done more than two strands… Smaller leaves are raised herringbone stitch. The big leaf is fishbone stitch done as wire work/stumpwork. Probably should’ve used stabilizer to help me plan the placement and spacing a little better but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Didn’t really think far enough ahead for how to secure it to the hoop things… in my head I was going to gather the fabric behind like when you finish off in an embroidery hoop. But then I realized that wouldn’t get the popover effect I wanted. I ended up using Two hoops, one gathered in the back as planned (despite minor struggles with the “ring” on top)

I didn’t want to use hot glue bc it’d Ooze over and make gaps, so I went with superglue. I was too nervous/not thinking ahead to put the glue on the bottom and Then press the top hoop into place bc I was worried I wouldn’t get the placement right and it’d get stuck crooked. Instead I just held the pieces together and ran the glue along the outside letting it seep under the top hoop (and too far in some places, as you can see lol). I didn’t spill any superglue or get any on my fingers this time too >:3

I rreeaaaaally should’ve made the hole in the fabric for the connection ring spot Before gluing things together, bc dried-superglued-fabric doesn’t want to move much! Tried my best to buttonhole stitch it open regardless (round-needle nose pliers are great for opening up the fabric)

Also didn’t think far enough ahead on tidying up the back… I cut out a small circle of card stock or something like it that I grabbed from the recycling bag lol. I put that on the back and sewed a circle of matching fabric over it kind of like needle turn appliqué style but Hard Mode bc of some of the dried glue…

You can kinda see a bit of the pink fabric marker ink from where I marked the backing piece but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I like how that all made for a neat flat back side and pushed some of the excess fabric forward like padding to make the front a bit curved

[cozmicwonder]

He Loves me, She Loves me not

Chapter 3

As you walk down the hallway you stare at the paused video. A video that could…ruin..her reputation…You ponder on the thought and sigh. I’ll just sleep on it you thought. “That should work” you you mumbled on your way to your dorm. The thought of someone like her cheating on a boy who does every and anything for her. You almost feel bad for him. The incident replayed in your head like a broken record.

You couldn’t get your mind off it even while you lie flat against your bed. It was approximately 12:42 am. You couldn’t sleep so your mind wandered. Your thoughts drifted to you revealing Rika’s secret but no one would believe little old you, especially with no one to back you up. Plus you have no popularity. So you drifted to other ideas. Blackmail? No, if I got caught I could go to jail. You thought. Get her expelled? “Too hard to execute” you spoke quietly. You groaned, you had no more ideas.

That was until a thought popped into your head. What if you went to Maki’s sister, Mai. Mai despises Rika. Rumor has it that they both were in a competition for popularity the last year of high school and Rika made sure every ounce of her dignity was gone. We’re talking, spreading rumors she was selling nudes for money because her family disowned her. Stealing most of her friends by brainwashing them and feeding them lies.

She even went as far as to ruin her boyfriend's reputation and bullied him to the point he left the school and just disappeared from Mai’s life. Ever since her reign ended she’s despised Rika with everything she was made of. It was perfect you could get her secret out and Mai even though you didn’t like her either could get her old life back.

You would ask Maki for her number tomorrow but first, you had to get at least four hours of sleep…You got no sleep that night, you looked like the Walking Dead. Too much overthinking prevented a peace slumber for you and your drained mind. Your brain came up with millions of different possibilities of what could go wrong or right, how it could go down, who would interject, and if anyone would believe you.

You sigh heavily and rub your eyes until you’re satisfied with the feeling. Your posture is honorably horrible, looks as if you would place number one for worst hunch back. Last night you made the executive decision to text maki for Mai’s phone number and she finally texted back at six in the morning. After terrorizing you with questions you finally got it. She was unsure if it was still her number because she rarely talks to her outside of family matters.

You added Mai’s number to your contacts and sent her a text. The text read. “Hey Mai im one of Maki’s friends and I have something on Rika that im sure you’d love to get back at her please meet me at dorm number 62 in the east wing if you want to talk”. You thought that sounded pretty mysterious. You didn’t have any classes today so you decided to wait in your dorm all day because you realized you didn’t give her time. When you realized you went to check the message to confirm, it said it was read.

You could’ve jumped with glee and pride but you held yourself together and waited. And waited and waited until you heard a knock at your door. You jumped up and rushed to the door. You took a deep breath in and out before cautiously opening the door and low and behold it was Mai. “Hi,” you spoke quietly looking up at Mai. She was about two inches taller than you. “Hey,” she said rather blankly. You moved back and opened the door wider for her to enter “Welcome” you said as she entered your dorm. “So let’s cut straight to the chase. What’s this you have on Rika” Mai turned to you staring at you intimidatingly. You swallowed the lump in your throat why were you so nervous now?

You stared directly into her eyes. “So yesterday I caught Rika..” the words wouldn’t come out. “Come on spit it out already I don’t have all day,” Mai said getting slightly irritated. “ICAUGHTRIKACHEATINGONHERBOYFRIENDWITHYUJI’STWINBROTHER” you stammered out in one long breath. You stared at Mai’s shocked face before she erupted in a fit of laughter. She was laughing so hard she hunched over. Your face showed that of confusion.

Mai’s laughter continued for a few more seconds before standing up straight and fixing herself. “Wow,’ She said as she sighed. “She spent countless months ruing my reputation by spreading lies I was a whore when she’s the real whore.” she chuckled one more. She looked back at you and noticed your confused face. “Listen here, I’ll help you get little Miss Perfect’s secret as long as you help me get my rep back. Deal?”. She stretched out a hand for you to grab. “Deal,” you said shaking her hand. It was like you just made a deal with the devil.

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

A/n- Hey, Hey. Sorry, it took me sooooooooo long to post Chapter 3. I was busy with school making sure my grades were good and I passed my exams and I did just that! I hope you enjoyed this chapter I'll post another by the end of this month. Tah Tah!

[messrmoonyy]

I LOVED THE DRABBLE OF TESS SUCKING ON READERS TIDDIES PLEASE GIVE US THE REVERSE. Tess fingering reader as reader sucks on her tits and Tess tells her how good she is for mommy 🤤🤤🤤🤤 MOMMY TESS

Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

Word count: 624 | 18+ smut warning

TLOU masterlist | Navigation

“ that’s mommy’s good girl “ Tess sighed, a hand raking softly though your hair. The other was just as gentle, even if engaging in a far less PG act, two fingers rubbing soft circles into your clit at a gentle pace “ keep doing that baby you’re making mommy feel so good “

You were just as occupied as she was. Well. Your mouth was. Lips and tongue matching her soft pace as you licked and sucked at her nipple, her other being taken care of with your eager fingers.

You loved days like that. Where it was stormy and cold outside, but you were warm and cosy. Days where things were gentle and soft. Intimate. Romantic. Held in her arms whilst her hands moved softly on your body, a gentle change from the way she so often was firm and demanding.

And you loved when she let you show her attention too. Even if it was just in the form of you working lazily at her chest, moaning against her skin softly as she continued to work at your soaked clit. But she knew you had a thing for getting her tits in your mouth, so she seemed more than happy to indulge you today.

She even let you nip at her skin, carefully bruising her chest and soothing the marks with the warmth of the flat of your tongue. Occasionally you worked you way up to her neck, kissing and nipping and letting out shuddering breaths into her skin as she so slowly brought you closer and closer to the edge.

But honestly at that point you didn’t even care if she brought you to climax or not. Because you were making her feel good. And absolutely nothing else was more important to you than that. Because the opportunity presented itself so rarely. But you’d attempted it, and to your surprise she had let you. And so… there you were.

“ I’m doing okay? “ you whispered against her neck and you felt her nod gently.

“ mhm, so good for me sweetheart“ her gentle tone made butterflies swarm in your chest, simply adding to the already blissful feeling spread across your entire body.

She let you kiss her, guiding you with the hand still twisted into your hair, moaning against her lips as you did. They were chapped from the disgustingly cold Boston winter but you didn’t care.

You returned back to your previous activity when you had to pull back for lack of air in your lungs, watching the way goosebumps prickled across Tess’ chest as your quick breaths hit her skin, a silent indication that she was just as flustered by you as you were her. A reminder that having you so close made her body involuntarily react. You had that power. You gave her that reaction.

It made you smile as you left a trail of kisses along her sternum, breathing in the scent of her skin.

She whispered sweet things to you as you came. Your reaction was far quieter than normal, small moans and a stuttered breath into her skin, and you knew your time with pleasuring her was up. She wouldn’t let you grant her the same bliss, but she had let you do something. So you would respect her wishes and be grateful. Whatever deeply locked away part of her mind that kept her from relinquishing any form of vulnerability to you, was still locked away for today.

You would spend that day in bed, close and warm. And she would probably make you come against, simply for something to do. And if you are lucky she’d let you touch her again. But if not, you’d still be happy. You wouldn’t push. She’d let you when she was ready.

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 4

Poly!141 x chunky!reader tw: little smutty at the end

The Next Day. Saturday.

Anxiety. First date anxiety to be exact and it had your stomach in knots. You’d woken to no alarm, blissfully off work that day and lounging in bed for a few minutes had been nice until you were hit with a pang in your stomach when you remembered you had a date with Price that night. Suddenly, you couldn’t lay in bed anymore. Tossing off the covers and heading to the kitchen, you brewed some tea to try to calm the racing of your heart while you mentally worked through everything you’d need to accomplish today before said date.

Only after tearing through your closet did you settle on a black dress that had been hanging in the back for ages. It hugged your curves in all the right places without making you self conscious about the curves you didn’t like. You’d originally bought it for an anniversary dinner with Kit, but when he’d canceled with the excuse that his job needed him to stay late (or in reality, your cousin insisted he come over), it never saw the light of day. What better time to wear it than on a date with a new man? 

You quickly found that John Price was not one to be tardy to anything. He’d shown up five minutes before eight, waiting patiently at the door while you called from inside that you were coming. Opening the door to your flat as you wiggled on your heels, you were presented with a bouquet of hyacinths and lilacs decorated with sprigs of baby’s breath. “Johnny said they were your favorite,” Price shrugged, giving you a warm smile as you invited him in and took the flowers to inhale their sweet scent. Your eyes traveled from the bouquet to his outfit for the evening and internally groaned at how handsome he looked in the maroon button up that stretched over his chest and biceps and black slacks that you decided you wouldn’t mind seeing on the bedroom floor.

“Please, make yourself at home. I just need to get these into a vase and then we can leave,” you stated before rushing into the kitchen, Price’s eyes glued to your backside as you disappeared. Quickly, you filled a vase and dropped the bouquet into the water, admiring it with a girlish giddiness and promising yourself that you’d properly set it up once you returned. 

When you returned to the living room, Price was looking over the bookshelves surrounding your TV and you walked over to join him. “This is my favorite,” you said, reaching up to hook your finger over the spine of a well-loved book, pulling it out and handing it to him. “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” Price’s gruff voice stated, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and he looked you over with an appreciative gaze. You were smart. Just one more thing to adore about their shiny new toy.

“I love the fantasy, but also the deeper meanings behind it,” you replied, blushing lightly as you took the book and put it back in its place on the shelf. “Maybe one day we’ll talk a bit more about it,” you added, knowing if you started in on the intricacies of Lewis Carrol’s famous book, you’d never shut up. Price nodded and checked his watch before his hand came to rest against the small of your back. “We should get going, little bird. We have reservations,” Price spoke softly, his mustache twitching with his words. 

John Price was known to be a man with endless self control, but you seemed to be the exception. As the two of you made your way downstairs, his blue hues stayed glued to your form, taking in the way the dress accentuated your waist without hiding your wide hips. The short kitten heels that clicked on the stairs made your calves flex and contract in a way that made his mouth water. And he couldn’t ignore the way your hair shined in the light of the lamp post outside next to his truck. 

As you not so gracefully clambered into his truck, you noticed a figure on the far side of the street bearing the same skull mask you’d seen weeks before. Why did it seem so familiar? But then Price had your attention as he climbed behind the wheel and when you looked back, the shadow was gone. It made your brows furrow, but you shook off the feeling it left you with, choosing to focus on your date. 

The restaurant was nice, not too fancy, but definitely warranted your more formal attire. “Two for Price,” he stated to the host, voice rough but polite. He’d offered you his arm after opening the truck door for you and you’d accepted, sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow. The two of you followed the host to your table in the corner, Price pulling out your chair in a show of gentlemanly chivalry before taking his seat with his back to the wall. 

The waiter arrived, greeting Price like an old friend and it made something in your chest tighten. How many other dates had he brought here? But your concerns were quickly dealt with when the prettiest man you’d ever seen approached the table. “Price! Wonderful to see you again,” the man turned to you now, leaning down to take your hand and kiss the back of it. “And you must be the pretty lass Price and So- Johnny can’t seem to stop talking about.” 

You blushed a fierce red, head turning to look at Price who seemed to be a bit pinker than before. “Aw, hush it, mate. Little bird, this is Kyle, a friend of ours and the owner’s son,” Price introduced with a small smirk and your head swiveled back to look up at the man standing next to you. “It’s a lovely restaurant. I suppose that’s where you learned to cook? Johnny can’t stop talking about your food,” you replied, giving him a kind smile. “Ah, he’d have more to say if he took more than a second to taste it. Mate inhales food like it’s going to disappear,” Kyle chuckled and raised his hand to rub the top of his head before sliding down to wrap around the back of his neck. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. It’s on the house, Cap.” Kyle bent to take your hand again, kissing the back before standing straight. It left you staring at the spot on your hand while Kyle winked at Price over your head before disappearing into the back. 

For now, you perused the menu even though you knew you’d be ordering a salad. “What looks good to you?” Price asked, leaning over and incidentally against you as he looked at your menu, rather than his own. “Oh, I was just going to order a salad. They look pretty good,” you muttered back, feeling heat rise on the back of your neck. “Just because I call you little bird, doesn’t mean you need to eat like one. Get a steak, or pasta. Something you’ll enjoy,” he insisted, warmth pouring from his expression. You flushed and muttered that the steak looked fantastic and he nodded, proud that you’d listened to him. “Good girl,” he praised and you were pretty sure your stomach had dropped out of your ass, the color lingering on your cheeks turning darker. 

The dinner went by without a hitch once you’d conceded that the steak was worth it and much better than your original choice of a salad. You’d surprised him when you asked the waiter for a glass of whiskey neat, adding another reason the boys would adore you. 

Afterwards, the two of you headed back to your flat, chattering along as if the pair of you weren’t essentially strangers. The closer you got, the more your previous anxiety reared its ugly head. The evening had been wonderful and John was nothing less than a perfect gentleman, so when you entered your flat with him on your heels, you offered him a drink and disappeared into the kitchen. 

Meanwhile, Price was pulling out his phone and quickly updating the boys on the night, chuckling at their outrage at the lack of information he was providing. Shoving his phone back in his pocket when he heard you coming back out, you presented him with a glass of bourbon from your stash and settled next to him on the couch with your own glass. 

“So, Cap, huh?” you pressed, watching his reaction to your inquisition. Most of the night had been about you. Your job. Your car. Why you were in England instead of the US. But you still knew next to nothing about him besides he liked his liquor hard and he could fix a car. Price grunted in response before dragging a hand down his face to scratch at his beard. “Captain. I lead a task force that is made up of the boys, Johnny, Kyle, and Simon,” his words were crisp and short, letting you know that was the only information you’d get about their jobs right now. 

But you were trying to not be a wet rag when it came to letting things lie. “I see. So that means you guys go out there and do super secret missions for the government?” you asked, tone teasing in an effort to keep the conversation light. Price nodded before getting up off the couch, making the furniture creek with the weight being lifted off of it. He paced to your window, looking down at the street below. 

You stood, kicking off your heels before joining him at the window. His gaze moved from the street back to you and you had to fight back the gasp as the piercing blue of his eyes seemed smaller, taken over by the black of his pupils. Your heart hammered as he took your glass, knocked back the remaining liquid before setting it on the window sill. His hand raised to push a stray lock of hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear before his palm was settling against the softness of your jaw.

“Tell me to stop,” Price whispered, leaning down slowly to give you a moment to process just exactly what he wanted you to stop. But you didn’t, pressing up onto the balls of your feet to close the distance. His lips were gentle against yours, ever so slightly chapped, but his mustache and beard were soft against your skin and you hummed into the kiss. Your body instinctually leaned into his, hands finding the bulging biceps under the fabric of his shirt while his free hand found the dip of your waist. 

A low growl from him and a soft sigh from you bounced between the two of you as he pulled back, his gaze meeting yours as he searched for any sign you’d like to stop. But when all he found was round eyes and a soft smile on your parted pout, he grinned and resumed ravaging your lips and tasting every inch of your mouth with his tongue. 

His large hand drifted down from your jaw to wrap lightly around your throat as his thumb slid up and down over your pulse point. Your chin tilted up and he pulled away, breath heavy and hot between you as he smirked down at the pretty bird he’d caught in his trap. “Mm, as much as I’d love to take you right here in front of the window so the whole world knows who you belong to, I’m too much of a gentleman to do so on the first date,” he breathed against your lips, voice low and you almost whined in response.

His words made your legs weak at the knees, body reacting to the first hint of physical affection you’d had in months, possibly years. “What if I asked you to?” you quipped back, unaware of where your bravado was coming from. A chuckle and a shake of his head were the response you were given before he was stepping back, though his hand never left your waist while the other dropped to join it. “I would tell you to be patient, pretty bird” he growled back, his hold on his self control quickly slipping while his grip on your waist tightened.

Price rested his forehead against yours, panting softly before he let his control slip a little in a very rare ‘fuck it’ moment. His hands slid from your waist to grasp the fat of your ass through your dress, roughly pulling you to him as he pressed his lips back against yours in a heated kiss. Your own hands clutched at the front of the pretty maroon button up, tugging at the fabric in a desperate attempt to get even closer to him. He turned you, pressing you against the brick of the wall as he pinned you between it and him. 

You could feel his arousal through his trousers, pressing against the soft flesh of your tummy as the two of you kissed like rabid teens. He gathered your hands together in one of his, pinning them over your head while the other explored your curves; over your waist, your hips, down over your plush thighs. When he pulled back to rake his gaze over your breathless form, you could see his mustache curling up with his lips in a smirk before he was leaning forward to press soft kisses along your throat.

“You have no idea what we could do to you. Such a pretty little thing,” he muttered against your sensitive skin while his free hand ran up the inside of your thighs. ‘We? Who is we?’ you thought briefly before you felt the heat of his thick digits against the gusset of your panties. A soft moan left your parted lips, swollen from kisses while your legs spread of their own accord and his resounding groan let you know he felt the same as you. 

Then why was he releasing you? Stepping away as he dropped his hands from your body and he regained control of himself. You looked up to him with confusion, still leaning against the wall as if your legs would give out if you tried to walk. “I told you, I’m too much of a gentleman,” he chuckled, coming back to give you one more sweet, short kiss. “Don’t worry, little bird, you haven’t seen the last of me.” 

Thank you so much for the support! I appreciate it so much! Price is a little mean, but he'll make it up to her.

[jjongkim]

In case anyone isn’t caught up, here’s a rundown of what has happened with the SHINee Fanmeet fiasco:

SM announced the fanmeet would be held in Kintex, a notoriously bad venue about 1.5 hours from most places in Seoul. Fans complained, but hoped the layout would make it work out, although many considered just watching the beyond live since they knew the views might not be very good (edit to add clarification: Kintex is like exhibition halls with walls that can be removed to make the rooms bigger and the freedom to build the seating/stage layout differently for each event since it’s essentially just a very long empty room)

SM originally made the Korean ticketing announcement with a line included stating that there would be a beyond live, but shawols noticed at some point that this line was removed, bringing doubt that there would actually be a live stream

Shortly after that was noticed, SM dropped the seating layout and it was terrible. It would take place in one long, flat room with no elevated seating and a pillar in the middle of it. If you were about halfway back, you wouldn’t be able to see anything past the heads in front of you or the pillar. Additionally, this wasn’t a venue made for music events, so even the audio wouldn’t be good near the back

With the line about the beyond live removed from the announcement and the seating chart being worse than we imagined, it added to the upset as it felt as though SM knew the venue/views would be terrible and fans would prefer to watch a livestream, so they removed that option, making fans feel like they had no choice but to pay ~$100 for a ticket where they couldn’t see or even hear the boys. Also, SM dropped the seating chart right before a sort of half-holiday weekend in Korea (Labor Day) so it seemed even more sketch, like they knew fans would complain so they made the announcement at a time when they wouldn’t have to deal with it over the extended weekend.

SM also included a little notice saying that some seats would have limited views but there would be no refunds if that were the case, so choose your seat wisely. Except they didn’t even confirm where the restricted view seats were, leaving the responsibility entirely up to the fans with no offer to refund

On top of it all, shawols have felt for years that shinee gets treated badly by their company, and shawols by extension. There are many instances of shinee goods being more expensive or not as good of quality, and a lot of shawols felt walked all over because it was like the company knew we would just pay for anything they gave us without complaint, like bad merch or an awful venue. But not this time, this was the last straw.

Kwols immediately rallied together to protest the seating layout and venue choice. By the same night, a list of demands were made (apology from SM directly, direct confirmation of beyond live, venue change or at least a seating change layout). An anonymous shawol even donated $1000 for the rental of protest trucks to be placed outside of the SM building. If the demands were not met, most shawols agreed to boycott the live performance

SM released a statement confirming there would be a beyond live, but they weren’t going to change anything about the live performance. They claimed that they originally had a venue that could hold 5000 people (which was insulting on its own) but that reservation fell through, so they went with kintex. They said there would be a screen on the back of the pillar, so fans in the back would be watching the entire thing on a screen since it would be impossible to see the stage from any point beyond the pillar, and the members would go around in carts for people in the back to see them (which, keep in mind, usually only happens for one or two songs out of the entire event). And they’d look into potentially making inclined seating, but no guarantee. Keep in mind, it is possible in this venue to design the stage/seating layout in any way the organizer wants, but they kept the bad layout they originally made.

This only made fans angrier. It felt like they were using the members as an excuse (citing the members schedules even though we know the members cleared most of their schedules specifically for the anniversary) and underestimating shawols by going for a 5k capacity venue at first, and then refusing to make any kind of change that would actually better the situation, not even a seating layout change, nor lowered prices for those in the back. Plus, fans themselves found other venues that are available for the same day. It gave the impression that SM didn’t have a plan B in case their first choice failed, so they just went with the quickest, easiest, and cheapest option. Even though they could have started planning this months ago since the anniversary is a fixed date :/

Fans doubled down on the boycott. This time, if SM didn’t change the venue entirely, shawols agreed to not only boycott ticketing for the in-person event, but also the beyond live and the merch. Hearing from the kwol side of things, there were a few that didn’t want to boycott, but the overwhelming majority would boycott. Plus oversees shawols agreeing to boycott the beyond live meant this would be a global boycott that would mean major revenue losses for SM.

This even reached major news outlets and multiple articles were made. The members didn’t say anything about it, but on ticketing day around noon, Onew responded to a comment on his Instagram post acknowledging the situation and stating that he and the members were talking to the company to find the best possible solution.

Finally, only 4 hours before the fanclub pre-sale was supposed to begin, SM announced that ticketing would be postponed while they look for a new venue. We did it!

There’s more information, but that’s the gist. I hope everyone understands, no one really wanted to boycott. Of course we all wanted to see SHINee and support them for their anniversary, but shawols didn’t want to give SM the impression that this kind of organization or treatment of SHINee or the fans was okay. If we all just bit our tongues and bought tickets, what would stop SM from doing something just as bad for the next SHINee event? Or even another group? We made our voices heard and it worked! Now we’re just waiting for the new ticketing date/venue to be announced. Happy SHINee month!

[welldonebeca]

it's a Bad Idea, right? (8)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC!Betty WC: 1.2k words Warnings: Mafia AU. Secret identity au. Flirting. Fluff.

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Masterlist

"Give it a spin," Wanda urged, her eyes dancing with excitement. "How come I've never seen you wearing this dress?"

Betty complied, twirling in her dress, a chuckle escaping her lips as she watched her friend's enthusiasm.

It was one of the pretty dresses she had made a while ago, nothing too fancy, but certainly something she had been saving for a nice time.

“Because it was pretty buried in my project chest,” she smirked, looking over her purse and shoes. “He’s coming to pick me up with his car.”

“Car?” Pietro echoed from outside, and Betty could just hear how he was right outside her door.

She rolled her eyes.

“Just walk in already, I’m dressed,” she called out. “Anyway, he’s going to drive us there, but I don’t know if I’ll want him to bring me back home, or if he’ll want to do that.”

Wanda scoffed, the disbelief obvious in her voice.

“He walked you home from the grocery store and walked us both home from work, why wouldn’t he bring you back?”

Betty shrugged.

Steffan seemed nice, but she’d only met him… thrice?

Phone talks aside, what if he was pretending to be nice?!

A lot of men do that!

“You never know how the after of a date might go,” she answered, at last. “I’ll keep money for the cab. And to pay for my part of dinner if he decides he doesn’t want to pay because of some arbitrary reason.”

He did say he wanted to pay for it, but, again, who knew.

"Bring some socks," Pietro suggested, taking a seat on her bed. "If you end up needing a cab and your feet start hurting in those heels, it's a handy backup."

Betty looked back at Wanda.

Well... it did make sense. She couldn’t bring a whole back with flats, but socks did fit into her purse.

“I’ll do that,” she agreed. “Thanks, Piet.”

He smiled, lying down on her bed and spreading himself.

“You look gorgeous,” he complimented her. “Where are you two going?”

She finished organising her purse, adding the pair of socks with her keys and a little pepper spray can.

“Juliette,” she told her. “We took your there for your birthday.”

Wanda looked very impressed as her eyes lit up with recognition.

"Ah, is little Miss Elize making a grand entrance?"

Betty rolled her eyes at the nickname,

‘Miss Elize’ was a title Wanda had given to her whenever anything French came up.

"Oh, hush," she chided playfully. "It's a cozy spot with familiar cuisine, perfect for a first date."

Steffan didn’t know she was French and she wasn’t eager to telling.

While with Poland, she could imply she was from the side occupied by Germany, mentioning France would be like painting a target on her back. She already had one target to deal with; she didn't need another.

Her phone vibrated, and Betty eagerly snatched it up, her heart racing. A text from Steffan flashed on the screen.

"He's here," she gasped with excitement.

Pietro chuckled.

“You really do like this guy,” he teased her, raising himself on his elbows with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Betty shot him an exasperated glare, her cheeks turning ten degrees hotter.

No, she didn’t! He was just nice.

And hot.

And charming.

And she really wanted to do unspeakable things to him.

"Shut up," she snapped in response, trying to hide her embarrassment as she walked away.

"Have fun," Wanda called out cheerfully. "And don't forget to send us your location."

Pietro couldn't resist adding his own quip, his protective instincts kicking in, though there was a touch of annoyance in his tone.

“I can pick you up if he gets handsy!”

She left with her phone still in hand, tucking her charger into her purse and quickly texting Wanda her real-time location for the next 24h, and rushed down the stairs with her high heels in hand, stopping by the mirror at the entrance and fixing her hair before putting her shoes on and walking out, proper and pretty.

Steffan was waiting right there, and oh, he looked very good. He was cleanly shaved like always, and was wearing a crisp white button-up short under a navy blazer that just made his muscles pop out. It matched his jeans, too, the whole assemble.

"Good evening," he greeted her with that signature charming smile. "You're positively stunning tonight."

Betty couldn’t help the big smile on her face.

"You clean up quite nicely yourself," she remarked, playfully pointing at him with her free hand.

Steffan responded by taking her hand gently, bringing it to his lips, and planting a delicate kiss on her knuckles. It was an old-world gesture but it sent a delightful shiver down her spine.

Oh, dear.

“Let’s head off, it’s almost time for our reservation,” he suggested;

Betty nodded, and followed him to his car. Not that she was good with them – she lived in New York, having a car wasn’t too useful around there – but it looked like a nice car. Not too shabby and not too expensive, and it was tidy. She had seen the model around quite a bit in other places, so it was easy to suppose Steffan wasn’t a car-guy – he probably just wanted something to get around, and she quite liked that.

Her mid twenties had showed her that convenience was much more important than appearances when one wanted a peaceful life.

He opened the door for her, and closed it too, and she had just buckled the seatbelt when he walked in too.

Her eyes widened for a moment at the sight of him fully sat, and, good grace, that man was big. It made her feel tiny, being in that little space with him.

It made her whole face feel hot. Steffan was making her feel like a teenager who had just figured out she liked boys!

Betty observed the city passing by through the car window as he drove, the journey brief but pleasant. Her face lit up with a smile every time Steffan glanced her way, his eyes making her heart flutter with each exchange – and they hadn’t even started their date officially!

When they arrived at the restaurant, he once again showed his gentlemanly manners by opening the car door for her and later the entrance to the restaurant itself. When they were shown to their table, he pulled out her chair and pushed it into place before taking his seat.

“Do you come here often?” he asked, unbuttoning his blazer.

"Only on special occasions," Betty replied, her fingers tracing the edge of the menu. Oh, it looked new. "The staff here is exceptional, and the food, well, it speaks for itself."

Steffan’s chuckle warmed her belly.

"If a waitress is giving praise to the staff, I'm all ears," he teased, offering a playful wink. "Should I follow your recommendations for our dinner?"

Betty squinted at him.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Steffan didn’t seem bothered.

“You are the one with experience,” he smiled charmingly, his eyes fixed on hers. “I trust your judgement.”

She couldn’t help biting her lower lip as she reached for the menu, her heart fluttering with excitement.

“If you say so...”

…

“it’s a Bad Idea, right?” was posted on my Patreon in September 2023 and is fully finished. To have early access to it (and lots of other stories), consider subscribing to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I know you won’t regret it!

…

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