#and watch people be so confused who i’m supposed to be
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thegraveyardsh1ft · 11 months ago
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I bought a vest to wear for my sister’s wedding and realized a terrible truth that I could cosplay as Doug
I think my selfies are kinda cringe, so this one is on Patreon 😖
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fingertipsmp3 · 5 months ago
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Okay I found this “sweater recipe” knitting pattern and why is it so stressful. “Cast on a number of stitches that looks like a decent neckline to you” my sister in Christ what do you mean???
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humanjarvis · 13 days ago
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good heart
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synopsis: zayne wonders if he’s mean. you reassure him otherwise.
tags: fluff. comfort. zayne is self-conscious and cute  pairing: zayne x reader word count: 641
a/n: surprise (not rly) first zayne fic :] it’ll be interesting seeing how i want to write him since i’m probably the most similar to him irl #neurodivergence. also posting the most depraved and fluffiest things i’ve ever written in the same week who said versatility
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“Darling, have I ever been…mean to you?” Zayne asks hesitantly.
You’re cuddled on his sofa with your knees resting against him, halfheartedly watching a nature documentary. Brilliant rays of afternoon sunlight pour in through the floor-length windows, drawing most of your attention away from the grasslands and toward the trio of squirrels leaping over leaves in Zayne’s backyard. At his question, you raise your head from its place on his shoulder, squinting at him playfully. 
“Hmm,” you draw out, as if actually taking the time to consider his question. He blinks at you. “Nope! A little impassive, sometimes, sure,” you grin, poking his adorably neutral face. “But never mean.”
He forces out a weak smile at your teasing, gently lowering his gaze to your intertwined hands. 
When you don’t receive the usual politely packaged retort, you furrow your brows in worry. “Why do you ask? What’s wrong?” 
Still fixated on your interlaced fingers, Zayne clears his throat. “At the hospital today,” he starts, “one of the younger patients said I was…mean.” He bites the word out as if it tastes bad, the mere association of it with his character destabilizing his being. 
Perplexed, you unclasp your hand from his to lift his chin. “What happened?” 
“All I did was tell her that if she wants to feel better, she’ll need to take her medicine daily.” Now it’s your turn to blink at him. “Perhaps it was the tone I used, I’m not sure. I haven’t encountered this before.” 
Deep in thought, he moves to bow his head again, unconsciously avoiding your gaze out of unwarranted guilt. With a frown, you grab his face between your hands before that can happen, climbing over his lap to straddle him. 
“The Zayne I know is worried that doing his job makes him mean?” you ask, peering into his startled hazel eyes. “C’mon, Zaynie, she was probably just being stubborn. You of all people should know what it’s like to avoid taking medicine.” Lifting his top lip as if to inspect his teeth, you drive your point home when he flinches away. As his face flushes pink, you feel his cheeks warm under your hands.
“I’m aware that children…and adults…are hesitant to follow doctor’s orders at times,” he says, clearing his throat. “But I also know I'm not the most…expressive of people. I’ve gotten so used to behaving freely when I’m with you that I wasn’t monitoring my mannerisms in the pediatric ward today. I must have appeared quite intimidating to a vulnerable child. The thought made me uncomfortable. It made me wonder if…I’d ever made you feel that way as well,” he grimaces.
With a fond sigh, you tilt his face up to yours to kiss his nose. This time, his blink is slow and confused. 
“The only one you're being mean to is yourself,” you start, pinching his cheeks lightly. “No matter what’s on your face or in your voice, I know what’s in here,” you say, placing a firm palm over his chest. “You wouldn’t be Dr. Zayne without your directness. You wouldn’t be my Zaynie, either. And I happen to like both versions of him very much.” 
As you press another kiss to his nose, the corners of his full lips quirk up. “I suppose I should be nicer to him, then.”
“You’d better. Or else he’ll have to write ‘I am nice. I am kind. I have a good heart’ over and over again until he understands. Surgeons don’t have time for that.” 
“I'm sure I possess the cardiovascular fitness to work it into my schedule,” he quips. “I have a good heart, after all.”
As the joke lands, you give him an exaggerated wince, removing a hand from his smiling face to fake a retch. “Okay, maybe I was wrong. Subjecting me to that? That was a little mean.”
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harrysfolklore · 8 months ago
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the honorary WAG - cl16
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summary: yn has always been known as 'the honorary wag', since she's kika's best friend and adored by all the other wags, but what happens when the girls want her to become an official wag? a bet to get her and charles together before kika and pierre's wedding sounds like a plan.
word count: 6.9k + social media posts
folkie radio: i saw that video of alex and charles dancing at a wedding and i felt like i NEEDED to write something that involved charles and weddings, this was the result ! i really hope you like it (if you do please leave a reblog)
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 2,037,465 others
pierregasly Last night I proposed to the love of my life and she said yes. @/francisca.cgomes I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, I love you ❤️
view all 54,268 comments
username1 OMFG
username2 NO WAAAAYYYYYYY
lilymhe CRYING RIGHT NOW 😭😭🥺💗
↳ username1 AHHH THE WAGS NEED TO BE BRIDESMAIDS
alex_albon Amazing news ❤️ ♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc Wow I can’t believe my childhood best friend is getting married, you both deserve all the happiness in the world and I’m so happy for you ❤️ ♥︎ by author
↳ username2 CRYING AGAIN
↳ username3 he needs to be the best man idc
username3 this wedding is going to be out of this world
francisca.cgomes IM STILL OVER THE MOON. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ♥︎ by author
↳ username5 KIKA IS GOING TO BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BRIDE EVER
landonorris YOO I CANT WAIT FOR THIS PARTY ♥︎ by author, francisca.cgomes, yourinstagram, lewishamilton, iamrebeccad, oscarpiastri
↳ username1 LANDOOOO PLEASE
↳ username2 and i can’t wait to see him absolutely wasted
yourinstagram MY BEST FRIEND IS GETTING MARRIED 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM CRYING AGAIN ♥︎ by author, francisca.cgomes
↳ username3 yn and kika are the it girls
↳ username4 she’s probably going to be the maid of honor im crying over people who don’t know me
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liked by francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer and 65,826 others
yourinstagram MY BEST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD IS GETTING MARRIED 🥺 im so happy for you both @/francisca.cgomes @/pierregasly (even if that means that you finally stole her from me) let the wedding planning begin 🕺
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username1 congrats kika and pierre !!
username2 it girls ❤️‍🔥
carmenmmundt This wedding will be the best thing ever ♥︎ by author, francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer, lilymhe, iamrebeccad
↳ lilymhe I KNOW
↳ username3 i love that yn is not a wag but she’s loved among the wags anyway
username4 oh to be a guest at this wedding
landonorris Can I be a bridesmaid too?
↳ pierregasly No
↳ francisca.cgomes No
↳ username1 HEEEELP poor little lando norris 😭
francisca.cgomes I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SISSY 🥺 you’ll always be my wifey even if i’m married to someone else ♥︎ by author
↳ pierregasly That hurt
↳ yourinstagram OOPS
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gasly - gomes wedding 💍💍 groupchat
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the bridesmaids 👯‍♀️ groupchat
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INSTAGRAM
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liked by username1, username2 and 54,837 others
womenofthepaddock Kika Gomes (soon to be Mrs. Gasly), Carmen Montero (Spain’s national treasure) and YN (the honorary WAG) have arrived to the Paddock #SpainGP
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username1 SLAYYY
username2 they’re all so stunning omg
username3 oh to be one of them
username4 i love how yn is really the honorary wag
↳ username1 she should just date someone from the grid atp ♥︎ by lilyzneimer, carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe, iamrebeccad
↳ username2 ALL THE WAGS LIKING THIS COMMENT 😭
username5 i NEED yn’s outfit
username6 get yourself a bestfriend like kika gomes who takes you to formula one races
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📍BARCELONA, SPAIN.
Every time you agreed to join Kika for her boyfriend's (and now, fiancé) races, the same question came to your mind: "Why is the paddock so confusing?"
You were currently trying to make your way back to Alpine hospitality, where you're supposed to watch the race from, but you kept getting lost. The maze of motorhomes, garages, and bustling activity was overwhelming. The constant hum of mechanics working, team members rushing around, and fans hoping for a glimpse of their favorite driver made it all more chaotic.
"YN, hey!" you heard a voice call out for you, turning around, you saw Rebecca and Carlos walking your way.
"Hey guys," you greeted them with a small hug once they approached you.
"Got lost again?" Carlos asked, and you remembered the time he found you in the same situation a couple of years ago.
"Yeah, this place is like a labyrinth. I have no idea how you guys navigate it so easily."
"Years of practice," Carlos chuckled, "Come on, We'll walk you to Alpine. It's not too far from here."
"Wait," Rebecca said before you could even start walking, "Why don't you come to Ferrari with us a bit, I'm sure Kika and Pierre won't mind."
Your eyebrows immediately raised at Rebecca's suggestion, noticing the teasing smirk on her face. She wanted to carry on with her (and the girl's) plan of making you like Charles.
Charles Leclerc, loved by millions, but you weren't quite one of them.
It's not that you actively disliked him, but there was something about him that didn't sit right with you.
Maybe it was the fact that every single time you've interacted with him ever since you started joining Kika for F1 stuff, he was somehow rude to you.
The last thing you wanted was to have an awkward interaction with him at the Ferrari garage, but you knew Rebecca wouldn't let you go that easily.
"Okay, fine," you sighed, "I'll come with you guys.
"Great! Let's go then." Rebecca's face lit up with a smile.
The three of you walked towards the Ferrari garage, the race wasn't starting for another few hours so you knew you were inevitably running into Charles once you got there.
"This is the perfect opportunity to clear the air between you and Charles," Rebecca elbowed you, almost making you roll your eyes, "Who knows? Maybe you have more in common that you realize."
"You and Charles don't like each other?" Carlos asked you, reaching out to hold his girlfriend's hand.
"Stop, It's not like that," you said, almost throwing your head back in frustration, "Every time we've interacted, he's been... dismissive. Rude, even. I don't know if it's just me or if he's like that with everyone."
"Charles can be a bit intense sometimes, especially on race weekends," Carlos pointed out, "But he's a good guy. Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot."
"Maybe," you muttered, not entirely convinced.
You eventually reached the Ferrari garage, Rebecca and Carlos led the way, weaving through the throngs of people with ease. You tried to keep up, feeling a bit like a fish out of water in the sea of red uniforms.
You spotted Charles almost immediately, deep in conversation with one of his engineers and not even noticing that the three of you entered the room.
"Charles, hey!" Rebecca called out for him, you really admired her determination on the matter.
"Hey guys," Charles approached you, and you couldn't help but get a good look at him.
He might not be your favorite on the grid, but you couldn't deny that he was really handsome.
"You remember YN, right?" Rebecca asked with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"Of course," Charles replied, a small smirk playing on his lips, "You're going to be Kika's maid of honor, right?"
"That's right," you nodded, a bit surprised he remembered.
Rebecca and Carlos exchanged a knowing glance before Carlos spoke up, "We need to go check on something. You two, catch up."
You shot them a look of disbelief, but they were already walking away, leaving you and Charles alone.
"So, what have you been up to?" Charles asked, leaning casually against the wall. "It's been a while since I've seen you around."
"Yeah, I haven't really been able to come to any races, I'm moving to Monaco, so that has been keeping me busy," you said, trying to keep the conversation light.
"Really? Which area?" he asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.
You told him the name of the neighborhood, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "No way. I live there too. Are you the one who's been making all those moving noises two houses away from mine?"
"I fear that would be me," you laughed, feeling some of the awkwardness melt away, "I didn't know you lived there."
"Small world, huh?" he chuckled, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the Charles that everyone else seemed to adore.
"Yeah, it is," you agreed, still a bit cautious but warming up to him. "Guess we'll be seeing more of each other."
"Looks like it," he said with a smile, "I mean, at least you'll have someone you can ask for a cup of milk when you run out."
As you continued to chat with Charles, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the conversation. It was a stark contrast to your previous encounters with him, and it made you question your initial judgment. His smile was warm, his laugh infectious, and the more you talked, the more you realized how much you had in common.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Rebecca and Carlos across the garage, watching the two of you with satisfied smiles and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at them. You were already expecting the girls groupchat to explode with messages about you and Charles.
"Looks like your plan is working," Carlos said to Rebecca, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
"Told you it would," Rebecca grinned, "The rest of the girls and I even made a bet."
"A bet?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Yep," Rebecca confirmed, a playful glint in her eyes. "We bet on getting them together before Pierre and Kika's wedding. We all agree they'd make a great match."
"You and your schemes, amor," Carlos chuckled, shaking his head, "But I have to admit, you might be onto something."
Rebecca leaned her head on Carlos's shoulder, watching you and Charles laugh together. "Trust me, Carlos. Sometimes people just need a little nudge in the right direction."
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INSTAGTAM
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liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc and 70,002 others
yourinstagram back on the f1 gig and reunited with my girls 🤍 the last slide shows how much the soon to be married couple loves each other
tagged: francisca.cgomes, pierregasly, lilyzneimer, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and iamrebeccad
view all 3,987 comments
username1 SLAYYY
username2 the honorary WAG for real
carmenmmundt I missed you so much 🫶 ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram same here 🥲
f1gossip We love the WAGS (and yn) being besties
↳ username1 they need a masterplan to make yn a wag ♥︎ by iamrebeccad, lilyzneimer, francisca.cgomes
pierregasly My fiancée loves me 🥰
↳ francisca.cgomes more like tolerates
↳ yourinstagram she’ll always love me more
lilymhe bridesmaids gang 👯‍♀️ ♥︎ by author
↳ landonorris Am I still not allowed in the gc?
↳ francisca.cgomes exactly
↳ username2 HEEEEEELP
charles_leclerc Lovely to catch up. See you around in Monaco 😉 ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram likewise 😊
↳ username1 HELLOOOO???
↳ username2 SOMEONE DECODE THIS
↳ username3 i think this is the first time i see charles and yn interact 😭😭
iamrebeccad My job here is done
↳ carlossainz55 😂😂😂
↳ yourinstagram never trust the sainz-donaldson couple…
↳ username1 WHATS GOING ON HERE
↳ username2 lord i’m so nosy i need to be part of their friendgroup
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📍MONTE CARLO, MONACO
Living alone it's all fun and games until you get locked out of your house after a quick run to the store for some late night snacks.
You stood there, staring at your sophisticated security system installed in all the houses in your upscale Monaco neighborhood —one that was definitely too expensive for you, but you were grateful the company you worked for paid for your rent — feeling utterly defeated.
The high-tech lock had its advantages, but it also meant that once you were locked out, getting back in without a key was next to impossible.
Sighing, you pulled out your phone and texted Kika, hoping she might be able to help.
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You frowned at the suggestion. Asking Charles for help wasn’t your first choice, especially given your rocky interactions in the past. And yes, maybe you had a great conversation in Barcelona but that didn't mean that he suddenly liked you and would be willing to help you.
What if he's busy? Or thinks you're stupid for locking yourself out of your own house? What if this is all part of the girl's plan of setting you up with a driver?
Were some thoughts that ran through your head as you stood in your porch. But with no other options, you pushed them away and sent him a message.
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You sighed, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. Asking Charles, someone who you disliked from time to time and thought he hated you just a few weeks ago for help wasn't on your bingo card, but there you were waiting for him to show up.
True to his word, Charles arrived shortly, wearing a casual outfit that made him look really comfy, and you prayed that you didn't disturb him too much with your antics.
"Locked out, huh?" he said with a grin.
"Yeah, stupid me forgot the keys inside," you replied, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"No worries, happens to the best of us," he said, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket. "I actually learned a trick for these locks. All the houses here have the same system, and I’ve had my fair share of lockouts."
You watched as he worked with the keys and the lock, not sure of what he was doing but trusting his word that he knew how to unlock it. After what it seemed like a minute, your door unlocked with ease.
"Thank you so much, Charles. You saved me," you said, letting out a sigh of relief, "And I'm really sorry that I bothered you, you must've been busy or just resting and I made you get out of the house."
"Hey, It's okay," he said, flashing you a warm smile, "Told you could shout if you needed a spare cup of milk, or in this case, a way into your house."
"Thank you a lot, really."
You smiled softly as you both stood on your porch, and he mirrored your gesture. You looked at his features for a moment, his eyes were soft and a beautiful shade of green and blue, he looked extremely cozy clad in his hoodie and joggers.
Ugh why are you even thinking about Charles Leclerc like that? The voice inside your head came out again. And you didn't have an answer for it, but you pushed the thought away and focused on the present moment.
"So, how's the unpacking going?" Charles said after a minute of silence.
"It's getting there. Still a lot to do," you shrugged.
"Well, if you need any help, just let me know," he offered. "I'm pretty handy with setting up furniture and stuff."
"I might take you up on that," you said, and you fell into silence again.
And that's when you realized that for some reason, you didn't want the interaction to end, and something about the way he looked at you made you feel like he didn't want it either.
"How about you come in for a cup of tea?" you suggested without even taking a spare second to think about it, "As a thank you for helping me out, I mean."
He looked pleasantly surprised. "I'd really like that. Thanks."
You led him inside, quickly tidying up a few stray boxes before boiling water for tea. Once it was ready, you both sat down with steaming cups of tea, and you started talking about the topic that was inevitable among the grid and friends: Pierre and Kika's upcoming wedding.
"Can you believe they're getting married?" you asked, stirring your tea.
"I know, right?" Charles replied with a chuckle. "Pierre's been so excited. He talks about it all the time."
"They're such a great couple," you said, smiling. "Kika has been my best friend for years. I couldn't be happier for her."
"Yeah, Pierre is like a brother to me," Charles added, his expression softening. "He deserves all the happiness in the world."
You took a sip of your tea, feeling the warmth spread through you, "They deserve each other."
"By the way," Charles said, setting down his cup, "have you thought about what you’re going to wear?"
"I’ve been stressing over it," you laughed, "I want to find something perfect, and I feel like I'm running out of time."
"I’m sure whatever you choose will be great," he said reassuringly. "You have good taste."
"Thanks," you said, feeling a bit flustered by the compliment. "What about you? Got your outfit ready?"
"Not at all," he replied with a grin. "You know, since you're the maid of honor and I'm the best man, we should coordinate our outfits," he suggested with a playful smile. "Imagine how great we'll look standing next to Pierre and Kika if we match."
You laughed at the idea. "Maybe we should. It would make for some great photos."
"I can already see it now," Charles chuckled, "The perfect duo."
The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying Charles's company. He was funny, engaging, and far from the dismissive person you initially thought he was. You talked about everything from the wedding to your favorite places in Monaco, your work, his feelings about the F1 season so far and you couldn't help but think about how much the girls would freak out if they saw you talking and engaging the way you were.
Maybe they were right about you and Charles getting along well, but they're wrong about you possibly dating him, because you weren't looking for that, you thought to yourself again.
As the night drew to a close, Charles stood up to leave. "Thanks for the tea and the company, YN. I’m surprised we never got to talk like this before."
"Me too," you admitted, feeling a pang of guilt for your previous judgments about him. "I'm glad we did, though. And thank you again for helping me tonight, you were kind of my savior."
"Stop thanking me, you already did it like ten times," he said as you both walked to the door. "Are you going to the race in Austria this weekend?"
"I wasn’t planning on it," you said, "Kika's not going, and I usually go with her."
"Well, you could be my guest this time," he offered, a hopeful look in his eyes. "It could be fun."
You blinked, taken aback by his offer. "Are you serious?" you asked, needing to be sure you heard him right.
"Absolutely," Charles said, his tone sincere, "I know you're good friends with the girls and you love hanging out with them. It would be fun, and I'd love to have you there."
Your mind raced. When you left your house a few hours ago you never expected to get locked out which would lead to end your night with an invitation from Charles Leclerc to the Austrian Grand Prix, offering you a chance to spend time together at a race.
The wheels in your brain turned, making you unsure of your answer, when deep down you knew you wanted to take on his offer and go to Austria. You loved attending races and being around everyone in the F1 world, at first it was just something you did with Kika because of her boyfriend, but now it was something you enjoyed a lot.
Plus, you had to admit, the idea of spending more time with Charles was becoming increasingly appealing.
On the other hand, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt in the back of your mind. Was this just Charles being nice? Or what if the girls had put him up to this in another attempt to set you two up? You didn't want to complicate things somehow, especially with Pierre and Kika's wedding on the horizon.
Realizing you had been silent for a moment too long, you looked at Charles, your expression a mix of surprise and hesitation, and maybe you were crazy, but something in his face told you that he wanted you to say yes.
"That sounds amazing, Charles," you said, a small smile playing on your lips, "But… can I think about it? It sounds fun but I want to make sure I can make it work with my schedule."
"Of course," he replied with a nod, not pushing you for an immediate answer, "Just let me know soon so I can make the arrangements if you decide to come. I'd really like to have you there."
"Thanks, Charles," you said, feeling a warmth in your chest at his genuine interest. "I'll let you know soon."
"Great," he said, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter a little. "Goodnight, YN."
"Goodnight, Charles," you replied, watching as he walked away.
As you closed the door, you had one thought running through your head: the bridesmaids groupchat is about to go crazy
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the bridesmaids 👯‍♀️ groupchat
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charles and yn texts
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📍SPIELBERG, AUSTRIA
The Austrian GP weekend had been eventful so far to say the least. When you arrived on friday, you expected to catch an Uber to your hotel, or for someone sent by Charles to pick you up.
But turns out, Charles himself was standing there as you walked through the gates, waiting for you with a warm smile.
None of the girls ended up attending the GP, so you spent most of your time with Charles. It felt strange at first, since you had never spent much time interacting with him before, but you'd be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it.
Despite the friendly atmosphere off the track, it was a tough weekend for Charles competitively. His car had plenty of complications, from engine issues to problematic tires, which led him to a bad result on Sunday.
With that excuse, you suggested buying him dinner. You thought it would be a good way to cheer him up and to thank him for the weekend. It was friendly and casual.
You decided to have room service in his hotel room, neither of you in the mood to go outside, so you ordered a couple of pizzas, a bottle of wine and desert.
As the room service cart rolled in, you both laughed at how much food you had ordered. "I think our eyes were bigger than our stomachs," Charles said, eyeing the spread.
"Well, we have all night to work through it," you replied with a grin.
You both settled on the couch, the boxes of pizza open in front of you and glasses of wine in hand. If someone had told you a few months ago that you would be in this context with Charles Leclerc you'd laughed at them.
You knew the girls would have a field day when they found out.
"I'm really glad you came this weekend," Charles said after chewing on his slice of pizza, "It's been nice having you around."
"I'm glad I came too," you said, smiling back. "I didn't realize how much fun it would be. I always come to the races with Kika so this was different. Thank you again for asking me."
"I have to admit, I was a bit nervous about asking you," Charles took a sip of his wine, "I wasn't sure if you'd want to spend time with me."
You almost tensed at his words. All this time, you had assumed he disliked you because he had been rude or dismissive in your past interactions. But maybe it had all been a misunderstanding, like Kika had told you multiple times.
Damn you hated when she was right.
"Why wouldn't I?" you partially knew the answer, but you still wanted to hear what he had to say.
"I don't know. I guess I always thought you didn't like me much," he shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed.
"I thought the same thing about you," you laughed softly, "I figured you were being rude because you didn't like me."
"I never meant to be rude to you, at least not intentionally," Charles shook his head, "I'm really sorry if I ever was."
You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "It's okay, Charles. I guess we both just misunderstood each other."
"I'm glad we cleared that up," Charles gave a relieved smile, "It feels good to finally talk about it. Honestly, with the wedding coming up and the roles we're playing in it, I was nervous about the entire thing being awkward."
"We're good now," you said, feeling a genuine warmth spread through you. "And now I can join you in suit shopping without it being awkward."
Charles laughed, a sound that was starting to become one of your favorites. "Oh yeah, we still have to do that. We're definitely matching."
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INSTAGTAM
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liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.gomes and 102,268 others
yourinstagram lots of red and lots of room service ❤️
tagged: charles_leclerc
view all 4,026 comments
username1 SLAYYYY
username2 CHARLES AND YN???
lilymhe The one time we all decide to skip the GP… ♥︎ by francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt
↳ lilyzneimer literally
↳ iamrebeccad 😭
↳ username1 WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT LET ME INNNNNNNNNN
pierregasly I guess you don’t need me for paddock passes anymore ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram i’ve never needed you that was always kika
username3 wait are her and charles together ??
↳ username4 they could be friends chill
username5 yn finally becoming a wag??? the masterplan worked ♥︎ by iamrebeccad, lilyzneimer, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe
↳ username1 ALL OF THE WAGS HERE AGAIN 😭
charles_leclerc Always a pleasure 🤍 ♥︎ by author
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gasly - gomes wedding 💍💍 groupchat
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📍MONTE CARLO, MONACO
"Charles you literally just passed me."
"Did I? Oh, I see you now," Charles said as he spotted you walking towards his car, hanging up the phone and parking so you could get in.
You got into the passenger seat, clicking your seat belt and dropping your hands to your lap, "Hello there."
"Hi love," Charles leaned in to peck your cheek, "How was work?"
This was routine by now. After your time alone in Austria, you and Charles couldn't stop hanging out. He picked you up from work, you cooked dinner for both of you, you had sitcom marathons together and so on.
It felt nice.
"It was meh," you shrugged, "My day is about to get interesting, though, isn't it?"
"If you find looking at ties and shirts for hours any amusing, then yes it is."
Today was the day you and Charles had been talking about for so long, you'd get his outfit for the Gasly-Gomes wedding.
You got your dress already, it was a beautiful satin green dress you absolutely loved. Since Charles was away racing when you bought it, you showed it to him through FaceTime and he insisted he needed to get the perfect suit to match it.
"It's going to be fun," you poked his side as he drove, "But we do need to find the perfect fit, Kika is going to kill us if we ruin her pictures."
"I mean you're going to look stunning so I just need to stand next to you and hope it rubs on me," he shrugged, and you felt your cheeks burn.
Charles made a habit out of complimenting you at this point, and even though you didn't want to think too much about it, you found yourself melting every single time.
"Feeding my ego again, Leclerc?" you teased.
"Just stating the obvious."
You engaged in small conversation as he drove to the boutique you've previously picked as your first option. One of the things about your unexpected friendship with Charles that you loved the most was how easy it is to talk to him about anything. It was easy, comfortable, and it made you realize just how much you enjoyed his company.
When you arrived at the boutique, Charles opened the door for you, a small gesture that always made you smile.
Inside, the boutique was filled with racks of elegant suits and dresses. A sales assistant approached you, and you explained what you were looking for. She guided you to a section with suits that could match what you needed.
Charles began browsing through the racks, holding up different jackets and shirts for you to see. After some deliberation, Charles found a suit that caught his eye.
"Try it on," you urged him, eyes sparkling with excitement.
Charles disappeared into the fitting room, and you waited eagerly. When he emerged, your breath caught in your throat. The suit fit him perfectly, making him look even more handsome than usual.
Since when were you this down for this man?
"What do you think?" he asked, turning to look at himself in the mirror.
"It's perfect," you said, "You look amazing, Charles."
He grinned, clearly pleased with your approval, "You think I look amazing, huh?"
"Don't let it go to your head, Leclerc," you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile.
With the suit sorted, you moved on to finding the perfect tie. After a bit of searching, you found one that matched your dress perfectly. You held it up for Charles to see, and he nodded in approval.
"Looks great. Now, help me put it on?" he asked, a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
"Sure," you said, stepping closer to him.
As you worked on his tie, you realized just how close you were standing. Your hands moved deftly, but your heart raced with the proximity. You could feel Charles's breath on your face, and you couldn't help but glance at his lips every now and then. His eyes were fixed on you, a soft intensity in them that made your knees feel weak.
"There," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, "all done."
But neither of you moved. Your faces were inches apart, and the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. You noticed Charles glancing at your lips, and you wondered if he could hear your heart pounding in your chest.
"Shame on Kika and Pierre," Charles said softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "We'll definitely be the best-looking pair at the wedding."
You laughed lightly, the tension easing just a bit. "Absolutely. They'll have to step up their game."
Charles's hand came up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so tender it made your heart flutter even more. "Thanks for helping me with this," he said, his voice sincere.
"Anytime," you replied, your voice equally soft.
You lingered a moment longer. It was just you and Charles, standing so close, sharing a moment that felt incredibly intimate. Eventually, you both stepped back, a silent understanding passing between you.
You really wanted him to kiss you
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INSTAGRAM
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yourinstagram two weeks away from the gasly-gomes wedding: the happy couple, suit picking, speech writing and last girls trip as single ladies 🥲
tagged: fracisca.cgomes, pierregasly, charles_leclerc, lilymhe, lilyzneimer, carmenmmundt
view all 4,103 comments
username1 THE WEDDING IS SO SOOOOON
username2 BOYFRIEND CHARLES CONTENT JUST DROPPED
↳ username1 omfg are they together ???
iamrebeccad 🤍🤍🤍🤍
lilymhe “last girls trip as single ladies” and you’re the only one who’s actually single (not for long tho) ♥︎ by francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer, carmenmmundt, iamrebeccad
↳ username1 LILY😭
↳ yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄🙄
username3 we love the honorary wag
username4 charles in a suit i’m going insane
landonorris Can’t wait for the most alcoholic weekend of the year ♥︎ by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, lancestroll
↳ pierregasly I’m terrified already
charles_leclerc Best man and maid of honor, match made in heaven ♥︎ by author
↳ username1 CHARLESSSSS
↳ francisca.cgomes you’re welcome
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the bridesmaids 👯‍♀️ groupchat
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📍PORTOFINO, ITALY
The most awaited weekend of the year was finally here, the Gasly-Gomes wedding bound was in full swing. Guests arrived to Portofino from all over, their excitement palpable as they gathered to celebrate the love between Pierre and Kika.
Despite Charles' attempts to convince you to fly with him, you were firm on your decision of flying with Kika, you knew how nervous she felt and you wanted to be by your best friend's side for the most important moment of her life.
However, you were attending the rehearsal dinner together. Which had caused a commotion with the girls earlier in the week.
Their so called plan of getting me a boyfriend from the grid won't work, you thought to yourself, I'm not even looking for a boyfriend, Charles is my friend.
The rehearsal dinner was set in a beautiful, intimate restaurant overlooking the sea, and you were waiting for Charles at the hotel's reception to leave together. You smoothed out your dress, glancing at the grand clock on the wall, you felt a bit nervous, which only made you think about Kika and the fact that she was probably a million times more anxious.
"Hey there," Charles's voice broke through your thoughts. You turned to see him approaching, looking effortlessly handsome in a tailored suit, "Mon Dieu, you look insanely gorgeous."
You felt your cheeks warm at his words. "Thank you, Charles. You clean up pretty well yourself."
He grinned, offering his arm. "Shall we?"
You linked your arm with his, and together you made your way to the car waiting outside. The drive to the restaurant was filled with light conversation and laughter. Charles had a way of making you feel at ease, and tonight was no different.
As you arrived at the venue, the soft glow of candles and string lights illuminated the setup. Tables were adorned with flowers, and the sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop. You could see Pierre and Kika at the entrance, greeting guests with radiant smiles.
You were really happy for them.
"Let's go say hi," Charles suggested, leading you towards the happy couple.
"You both look amazing!" Kika exclaimed once you approached them, hugging you tightly. "Thank you for being here."
Pierre soon joined, greeting both you and Charles with a warm smile. "Thanks for keeping her sane on the flight here," he joked, giving Kika a playful nudge.
"It's the least I can do, you already stole her from me ," you said with a grin.
"I promise to share her from time to time." Pierre joked, making all of you laugh.
The four of you exchanged a few more words before making your way into the venue. The atmosphere inside was magical, the soft hum of conversation and laughter filled the air.
You really could feel the love and excitement radiating from everyone present.
You made your way towards the table, noticing Lando by the bar already. You couldn't help but giggle, he was dead serious about going all out with the alcohol this weekend.
You settled into your seats, Charles opening your chair for you before sitting down. You were at a big table where most drivers and their partners were already settled, Carmen and George next to you and Max and Kelly on Charles' side.
Damn, you were really the honorary WAG
"What?" you said, noticing Carmen's teasing smile as she glanced at you and Charles.
"Oh nothing," she shrugged, "You guys look really cute together."
You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. "Thanks, Carmen," you replied, trying to brush off her comment. "We're here as friends."
"Sure, sure," Carmen said with a wink, and you couldn't help but chuckle at her persistence.
The evening flowed smoothly, the conversations lively and the laughter contagious. As you sipped on your champagne, you couldn't help but steal glances at Charles. He seemed so at ease, laughing and joking with the others, his eyes occasionally meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter.
Dinner was served, a spread of Italian cuisine that had everyone praising the chefs. You and Charles shared bites of each other's dishes, a habit that had become second nature.
After dinner, it was time for the speeches. Since you were best man and maid of honor, you came up with the idea of surprising Kika and Pierre with heartfelt messages, which lead you to nights of takeout at his place to help each other write your speeches.
Charles was the first to stand, his presence commanding attention as he held up his glass.
"Bonsoir, everyone," he began, his voice clear and confident, "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Charles,"
"No one knows you! You're not world champion," Max yelled from his place, making everyone laugh.
"Somebody's jealous because he's not best man, I see," Charles teased, causing laughter again, "Anyway, I have known Pierre for many years now, and I can honestly say he is one of the best friends I could ever ask for. And Kika, you have brought out the best in him. Your love story is truly inspiring, and I am so honored to stand here today as your best man."
His words were heartfelt and genuine, and you could see Pierre and Kika's eyes shining with emotion. Charles continued with anecdotes about him and Pierre's karting days and well-wishes, his speech met with applause and cheers by the end.
It was your turn now, you were nervous but Charles sent a wink your way as he passed you the microphone that made you relax.
"Kika and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember," you began, your voice steady. "We have shared so many incredible moments together, and seeing her find someone who makes her so happy is truly a blessing. Pierre, you have brought so much joy into her life, and I am beyond thrilled to see you both start this new chapter together."
Your speech was filled with love and appreciation, and by the time you finished, there were a few more teary eyes around the room. Kika hugged you tightly, whispering her thanks in your ear.
After the speeches, the lights dimmed, and music began to play. Everyone gathered around the dance floor, and Charles turned to you with a mischievous smile. "Care to dance?"
"Sure," you replied, taking his hand as he led you to the center of the dance floor. The music was slow, and Charles pulled you close, his hand resting on the small of your back.
You danced together, your bodies moving in sync. You felt his breath on your cheek, and the warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine. You looked up at him, your faces inches apart, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared.
From across the room, Lily and Rebecca watched with satisfied smiles. Alex joined them, raising an eyebrow. "So, you think your plan worked?" he asked, amusement in his voice.
"Definitely," Lily said, her eyes twinkling. "Look at them. They're practically made for each other."
Rebecca nodded in agreement. "We've been planning this for months, and it looks like it's finally happening."
"Well, I have to admit, you girls make a pretty good matchmaking team," Alex chuckled, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend.
"We just knew they needed a little push," Lily grinned, "And now, look at them. They can't take their eyes off each other."
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TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
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liked by iamrebeccad, charles_leclerc and 254,378 others
yourinstagram MY BEST FRIEND JUST GOT MARRIED 🥲🥲🥲 brb i’ll be dancing and weeping all night
tagged: pierregasly, francisca.cgomes
view all 5,106 comments
username1 OMFG KIKA LOOKS STUNNING
username2 AHHHH THIS CONTENT
lilymhe same over here 😩😩 ♥︎ by author
username3 god i’d give up my first born yo be at that wedding right now
yukitsunoda0511 yukierre is for life ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram so is kikayn
↳ username1 I LOVE THEM 😭😭
↳ username2 ooohhh yuki and yn should get together so she’s finally an official wag
↳ username3 NOOO WE NEED CHARLESYN
francisca.cgomes I LOVE YOU JUST GRABBED MY PHONE TO COMMENT ON THIS ❤️❤️ now back to my wedding lol ♥︎ by author
↳ username1 she’s too iconic
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f1gossip Charles Leclerc getting cozy with one of the bridesmaids at the Gasly-Gomes wedding 😳
view all 2,004 comments
username1 OMFG
username2 LOOORD
username3 ISNT THAT YN 😭😭
↳ username1 YEAH
username4 oh god lando really exposed them, someone take his phone from him
username5 WHAT DOES THIS MEANNNN
username6 oh to be at that wedding right now
username7 YN HONORARY WAG IS NO MORE ITS TIME FOR YN REAL WAG ERA
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📍PORTOFINO, ITALY
Kika Gomes and Pierre Gasly were finally married.
The ceremony was held at a charming seaside chapel, adorned with white flowers and delicate ribbons. Guests filled the pews, their faces reflecting the joy and love of the occasion.
You stood beside Kika as her maid of honor, heart swelling with pride and happiness as she exchanged vows with Pierre. Charles, standing beside Pierre as the best man, caught your eye several times, his gaze warm and reassuring. The ceremony was beautiful, filled with heartfelt words, laughter, and a few tears of joy.
Charles made sure to compliment you from the moment he first saw you, and everyone was gushing over the two of you being color coordinated, just like you thought they would be.
After the vows were exchanged and the couple was pronounced husband and wife, it was time for the reception, or as Lando Norris would like to call it, the time to get absolutely wasted.
The party was held at a stunning villa overlooking the sea. The evening was filled with delicious food, heartfelt toasts, and lively dancing.
Just like the rehearsal dinner two days earlier, you and Charles were together all the time. Sitting beside each other at the table, Charles grabbing the train of your dress for you when you needed it, keeping at least a hand on each other all the time. You knew that wasn't "we're just friends" behavior, but you were too happy to mind.
As the night progressed, the drinks kept flowing, and everyone was in high spirits. Lando, true to his word, was leading the charge in getting everyone to the dance floor. You and Charles danced together, his hands on your shoulders as you swayed to the music, his breath on your neck as he whispered to your ear.
You knew some prying eyes were on both of you — and by that, you mean Rebecca, Lily and their respective boyfriends—, but once again, you were too happy and tipsy to mind.
After hours of dancing and celebrating, you finally took a break and sat down with your friends at one of the tables near the dance floor.
“You two were adorable on the dance floor,” Lily teased, giving you a playful nudge.
“Oh, stop,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm. “We’re just having fun.”
“Yeah, right. Just friends, huh?” Rebecca smirked.
Before you could respond, Charles appeared at the edge of the table, looking as handsome as ever, his suit jacket long forgotten and a few buttons of his shirt undone.
You were really down bad for him.
“Mind if I steal YN for a bit?” he asked, his eyes twinkling from the alcohol.
"Let the girl breathe mate! She's probably tired of you," Carlos teased, earning a round of laughter from the table.
You rolled your eyes playfully. "I think I can manage a bit more of Charles," you said, standing up and taking his offered hand.
"Of course you can," Rebecca said with a smirk. "Go meet your boyfriend."
You rolled your eyes again, but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across your face. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you protested weakly, standing up from the table.
“Not yet, anyway.” Lily laughed.
You ignored her comment, though your heart did skip a beat. You don't know if Charles had heard any of it, but you let him lead you out to the terrace, your hand wrapped around his. From the corner of you eye, you saw Kika looking at you, nudging her husband and pointing at you both, teasing smiles on their faces.
They just got married so you'll let it slide.
“Nice to get a break from all the noise,” you said once you reached the terrace, leaning against the railing and looking out at the sea.
“Definitely,” Charles agreed, standing close beside you. “It’s been a perfect night, though.”
"I know," you smiled softly, "I'm so happy for Kika and Pierre, they deserve this so much."
"They really do. It's been a beautiful day," Charles nodded, his eyes fixed on you, "Just as beautiful as you."
He stepped closer, wrapping a hand around your waist, pulling you gently against him. Your heart raced at his touch, and you couldn't help but glance at his lips, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. You'd thought about it more times than you'd like to admit, and the way he glanced at yours told you he did too.
“Charles,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “what are you trying to do?”
He smiled, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m trying to charm the pretty bridesmaid,” he replied softly, his thumb tracing small circles on your waist.
You laughed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. “And how’s that working out for you?”
“Let’s find out,” he said, leaning in slowly.
He closed the distance between you, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss was everything you’d imagined and more, slow and sweet, filled with a longing that had been building for months. His hands slid up to cup your face, deepening the kiss, and you melted into him, losing yourself in the moment.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.
“Definitely working,” you whispered, making him chuckle.
He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes full of affection. “Good to know,” he said, his voice low and full of warmth.
You spent a few more moments on the terrace, talking and laughing, sharing more kisses and wrapped around each other.
You were not sure what this meant for your friendship, but you were too happy to care. The night felt magical, like a dream you never wanted to end. It was a night of new beginnings, not just for Kika and Pierre, but maybe for you as well.
As you both made your way back inside, hand in hand, you noticed a few knowing smiles and exchanged glances among your friends. Kika and Pierre were still on the dance floor, looking blissfully happy, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of joy for them.
“Look who’s back!” Lando called out, a wide grin on his face.
“What’s going on?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at their suspicious behavior.
Kika abruptly approached the group, dragging Pierre by the hand a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Everybody pay up,” she said, holding out her hand.
Charles and you exchanged confused looks. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“We had a bet going,” Kika explained, clearly enjoying this. “We bet that we could get you two together before the wedding. And technically, we did.”
“Damn, I didn't think you girls would actually make it happen,” George handed over some money with a laugh.
“Wait, you all really bet on us? The infamous masterplan was actually a real thing?” you asked, still processing the revelation.
“Of course it was,” Rebecca said with a grin. “It was obvious to everyone except you two.”
"I can't believe you guys," you said, shaking your head but unable to suppress a smile, covering your face with your hands, Charles pecked your temple gently.
"To be fair, the girls started it, we just joined in later," Oscar said, trying to deflect the blame.
“I can’t believe it took a wedding and a bet to get us here," Charles chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "I guess we owe you all a thank you,"
"No need to thank us. Just be happy," Carmen sent a wink your way, making you smile.
"Alrighty, a toast now," Lando said, climbing on top of a chair. Everyone knew he was too drunk to be stopped so you just let him, "To Kika and Pierre the happiest and most beautiful couple in the world!"
"Hear, hear!" echoed through the crowd as glasses clinked together, laughter and cheers filling the air.
"And to YN finally becoming an official WAG!" Kika chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief, making the girls cheer.
"Official, huh?" Charles murmured, leaning in closer.
"We'll talk about that later, Leclerc," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
The rest of the night was a whirlwind of dancing, laughter, champagne and celebration. Charles never left your side as you enjoyed with your friends.
As the party continued, you found yourselves on the dance floor once more, swaying to a slow song. Charles held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you. "So, how does it feel to be an official WAG?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear.
"As far as I'm concerned, you haven't asked anything, mister," you teased raising your eyebrows.
"Well then, consider this me asking," he murmured, his voice playful yet sincere.
"In that case," you began, teasing him further, "I suppose it feels pretty good."
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Good to hear," he replied softly, brushing his lips against your temple.
Being an official wag was amazing
read some extra scenes here !
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pathologicalreid · 1 month ago
Text
too violent for tears | s.r.
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in which you get a Secret Service agent assigned to you after receiving a threat against your life (Spencer is less than thrilled)
who? spencer reid x fem!reader content: angst content warnings: death threats, jealous/protective!spencer, blood, guns, snipers, emetophobia warning, anxiety, trauma/shock. word count: 3.53k a/n: this was supposed to be like 1k, not sure what happened there.
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You were tapping the toe of your shoe against the carpeted floor in the elevator, the fibers stomped down by FBI agents over the years. When the door dinged, Felix, your newly assigned Secret Service agent, nudged you behind him, leading the way out of the elevator and to the bullpen.
Giving a wave to the familiar face who held the door open to you, you and your escort quickly garnered the interest of the BAU. Members had started trickling out for the day, but the A-team was still around. The last to leave, as always.
Your boyfriend was flipping through a book when he glanced up to see you, his expression softening at your arrival but morphing into confusion when he noticed the well-dressed man who would under no circumstances let you walk in front of him. Instead, you followed him single file until you could lean up against Spencer’s desk. “Hey,” you greeted him casually, hoping he’d ignore the six-foot former football player standing in his midst.
He peered up at Felix, sizing him up before rising to his feet, “Who’s your friend?”
“I’m borrowing a member of the president’s goon squad,” you offered, half-heartedly trying to make a joke.
Shifting on your feet, you watched as the two men reached across the desk between them and shook hands. “Agent Felix Sheffield, United States Secret Service. I’ve been assigned to Miss Y/L/N’s detail for the foreseeable future.”
“Detail?” Spencer responded quizzically, raising a brow at you as if to say What the hell is he talking about?
Your shoulders slumped forward helplessly. “You didn’t answer your phone when I called,” you tried to explain yourself. In your defense, you’d called his cell three times before deciding to put it off.
Knowing Spencer, his cell was probably buried somewhere, covered by enough papers and pens to fully muffle the sound of your ringtone. “What is going on?” He asked, glaring at your assigned agent as if he was the enemy.
“So, I was checking my email this morning, and I found an email that made me laugh, so I showed it to my boss, and it turns out it’s a death threat, and they take that stuff seriously,” you told him, your voice fading to a whisper toward the end. Even with your hushed tone, you felt the eyes of every member of the BAU train on you. To your embarrassment, Hotch and Rossi were now peeking out of their respective offices, trying to see what was going on.
Spencer’s eyes shifted to you. “You showed a death threat to the White House Press Secretary because you thought it was a joke?”
“Actually, she showed it to the Chief of Staff,” Felix interjected, playing the devil’s advocate.
You frowned at the Secret Service agent. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”
“I’m just supposed to keep you safe,” he clarified, nodding as if he was proud of himself. He smoothed out his suit jacket, fixing the button before he looked back to Spencer. “Don’t worry, I’ve got her.”
Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, straightening up and staring Felix down. “Well, you don’t need to stick with her while she’s here,” he said, adjusting his suit jacket so his firearm was visible.
Felix tilted his head to the side. “I have orders.”
You took a step back, wary of the turf war that was beginning—over you, no less. “Hey, guys—”
“I understand that,” your boyfriend interrupted, “but your UnSub isn’t going to get in here.”
The invading agent gave Spencer a dubious look. “No one armed has ever gotten in here when they weren’t supposed to?”
You cringed, recalling a few stories Spencer had told you about people in the bullpen, including an incident where the glass door needed to be replaced. “I’ll keep her safe,” Spencer assured him.
He didn’t like that answer. “My orders are not to leave her unless she’s safe inside her home.”
“And when I go to the bathroom, hopefully.” You tried to get yourself back into the conversation, but the two men had resorted to glaring at each other.
You glanced over your shoulder, sending a pleading look to JJ, but she didn’t seem any more ready to jump in than you were.
Mercifully, Felix’s phone rang just when you thought he was going to break. You took the opportunity to get closer to Spencer. “I thought you guys were seconds from breaking out the ruler.”
“What?” Spencer asked, furrowing his brows.
You shook your head. “Nothing. Hey, it’s just an email, but they have to take this stuff seriously. I was visible in a briefing today, and people had things to say.”
Spencer didn’t respond, waiting for you to elaborate on the content of the email you received.
Swallowing thickly, you shifted on your feet as you recalled the message that you would not soon forget. “I just… we made a statement about the NRA, and they took it personally. Sent some photos of a rifle and what they wanted to do to me,” self-consciously, you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself. “People get, uh, creative,” you told him, though you were sure it wasn’t new information to him.
Spencer looked pale, but if he had any concerns, he didn’t voice them to you. He didn’t have time because once Felix was off the phone, he was back to torment him. “I definitely recognize you from somewhere,” he said, pointing at Spencer with his cell phone.
Hesitantly, you sat down on the edge of Spencer’s desk, his warm hand resting casually on your shoulder. “He scored the winning runs at the FBI-Secret Service game last year,” you said.
Felix’s smile dropped from his face, recalling the loss that had been personal to many on the opposing team. “Are you ready to go?”
To his chagrin, you ended up sticking around the BAU for another hour, waiting for Spencer to finish some paperwork before the Secret Service drove you home. You’d been warned against the metro. You’d been warned against most public places.
Ditching Felix at the front door, you were introduced to Caleb and Sally, who would be positioned at your front door and balcony, respectively. In an exhausted haze, you and Spencer ended up on the couch, pressing yourself against him so closely that you were practically sitting on his lap.
You were supposed to be reading; that’s what you usually did after dinner. Your book lay open in your hands while you stared at the jumble of letters on the pages, next to you, Spencer turned yet another page, keeping his place with his fingertips.
Nothing was making any sense to you; even the familiar leather of your couch felt foreign beneath your legs. Things like this were never supposed to happen to you. You were a low-level staffer in the White House, but the one time you end up on camera, it turns into a case.
Spencer turned another page, so invested in his book that he hadn’t noticed your bookmark was still in place.
Your eyes flickered to the balcony. Sally was facing the street, and you knew that Caleb was right outside the front door. Thumbing the worn corner of your book, you considered asking Spencer if you could just go to bed, but his eyes seemed so affixed to his book that you didn’t want to interrupt him. You didn’t want to go alone.
It’s just a guy with a sniper rifle; you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t mean anything. People in the public eye received them all the time. If you ever wanted to further your career, you’d have to develop a thicker skin.
It’s just a guy with a sniper rifle; you repeated to yourself, shifting slightly on the couch. You moved away from Spencer, cheeks warming when he moved his placeholder hand to pull you back to him. Squeezing your thigh before returning his fingertips to the page he was on.
It’s just a guy with a sniper rifle; you leaned your head on Spencer’s shoulder, smiling despite yourself when he placed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. You relaxed into him, looking back at your book when it happened.
A loud popping sound came from the street. You practically tossed your book in the air in panic, looking around for a place to hide while Spencer calmly set his book down on the side table. “Hey,” he said with no harshness in his tone. His voice was so gentle that it was almost a coo. “It’s okay,” he put his arms around you while you watched Sally talk into her radio, “It’s just a car backfiring.”
You tried to take a deep breath, air catching in your throat and leaving you to choke on nothing. You erupted in a fit of coughs, covering your mouth with your arm while Spencer rubbed your back.
“You’re safe in here,” he whispered, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “No one’s going to get in,” he reassured you, propping his chin on top of your head, enveloping you in him.
Feeling like a fool, you’d forgotten that your first line of defense was Spencer. He wasn’t going to let you get hurt. “I’m okay,” you muttered, keeping your eyes wide open when all you wanted to do was close them.
He hummed like he didn’t believe you, and he was right to think so. “It’s alright to be scared.”
You shook your head, pulling away from him and wiping a hand down your face. “I’m not; it’s just a guy with a sniper rifle,” you said your mantra out loud this time.
Spencer’s gaze narrowed at you. “Just a guy with a sniper rifle?” He was clearly bothered by your lackadaisical attitude toward your current set of circumstances, but letting him think you were indifferent was better than letting him know you were terrified. “You do know what sniper rifles do, right?”
His question was rhetorical, but that didn’t stop you from lifting your chin to respond, “They’re like giant party poppers.”
Relaxing his posture, you watched as recognition flashed in his eyes. You didn’t mind the fact that he was actively profiling you, so long as it meant he’d stop asking questions. You were afraid that with too many more questions, you’d break, and that was something you couldn’t afford right now.
So, he let you deflect, leading you into your shared bedroom with both hands, keeping your fingertips in his. You wondered, not for the first time that night, if asking to get his gun from the safe and leave it on the nightstand was too much.
Refraining, you laid down on the bed, sighing as Spencer dragged his hand up and down your spine, waiting for you to fall asleep before he considered it for himself.
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“Really?” Felix asked, putting his hands on his hips while you crouched to tie the laces on your shoes for the nth time that day. “You’ve spent more time tying your shoes than we have walking,” he observed.
You hummed in response, “They keep getting untied.”
“Double knot them,” he suggested unhelpfully.
Rising to your feet, you took your coffee cup from the Secret Service agent and took a sip. “Then I wouldn’t be able to get them off. They’re new; the laces just need some grip.”
He didn’t look impressed with your explanation. “You should’ve worn different shoes then,” he chided you, turning around when you motioned for him to keep moving through Quantico.
Unfortunately, these were the only non-work shoes you owned, and they’d be easier to run in than any of your heels. That was, after all, the reason why you elected to wear them today. “Have you always been this way?” You asked begrudgingly, “Or have you been jaded by years on the job?”
“I’m not jaded; I’m just doing my job,” he responded, looking out warily for any sign of danger. Oddly enough, you felt safer here than you did at work; the presence of people you’ve known for years brought you comfort. It helped that your boss suggested you take a day off—a rarity in your line of work.
You stumbled slightly, a flash of light out of the corner of your eye disoriented your vision, exacerbated by your untied shoelace. “Wait,” you said to Felix, getting him to turn around and handing him your coffee again, but he refused to hold it, leaving you to set the cup on the pavement.
Crouching again to tie your shoe, you were pulling on the laces when you heard a sharp whistle. It’s only ever been described to you before, but you looked up from your shoes to see Felix just before he toppled over. You ducked out of the way of his body, frantically holding your hands over the fresh wound on his chest before you realized he wasn’t moving.
If you had been anywhere else, you would’ve been surrounded by chaos, but all around you were agents pulling their weapons from holsters and looking to the sky. You stood on shaky legs, allowing them to carry you to a corridor. You stumbled over your shoelace and rounded a brick column, gripping the cold stone as you hurled into the bushes, the distinct burn of coffee poisoning the foliage in front of you.
Dry heaving, you slid down the column, covering your hyperventilating chest with your palm and trying to listen to the cacophony of the world behind you. Everything was muffled, and your eyes had blurred despite the lack of tears in them—why couldn’t you cry? Someone had tried to kill you; you should be inconsolable. Instead, you were numb, so remarkably unfeeling that you might as well be dead. Your nose stung, and you moved your hands, the blood covering them had begun to dry, sticking a violent handprint over your heart.
You started to hear things, your name being called, familiar pet names thrown into the wind, but it all felt so far away. People were speaking in an entirely different universe than the one you were currently residing in. You tugged your skirt over your knees, your eyes pausing on the dried blood, encrusted between the ridges and fine lines of your hands. It was like you’d been through some sort of gruesome fingerprinting ritual.
Brown hair curtained in front of you; someone ducked their head behind your column, relief flooding her eyes as she knelt next to you. It took you a moment to recognize that Blake was speaking to you. ��Huh?” Your voice felt like it was coming from someone else; a doppelganger sat on the concrete next to you.
She held her phone to her ear, inspecting your eyes as she talked on the phone. Her fingers pressed to your wrist, checking your heart rate. You weren’t sure if it was racing or slowing, you wanted to ask, but it felt as though your mouth had been filled with cotton.
You couldn’t get yourself to stand; the dexterity that you’d developed as an infant escaping you while you sat limply on the ground, flinching when footsteps seemed to shake the earth around you.
The golden eyes in front of you glowed in the sunlight, your cheeks cupped by familiar palms, forcibly pulling you out of whatever hell you’d buried yourself in. The world seemed to move very fast before it completely stopped, your head lolling to the side for a moment before Spencer righted it for you.
You didn’t remember much of the interim, and somehow, you’d ended up on a bench. Spencer was on the ground in front of you, gingerly cleaning debris from scrapes on your knees before bandaging them.  
“Do you guys need anything?” JJ stopped by to ask. You knew everyone was trying to keep their distance from you, giving you space to breathe. Rossi draped a blanket over your shoulders in silence.
Placing a gentle kiss on your knee, Spencer looked up at you before responding, “Could you try to find a water? Or juice, something cold.”
The blonde nodded, giving you a concerned look before walking back into the building, taking Penelope with her. The technical analyst had come out after the all clear was declared; everyone wanted to check in on you. Even Matt Cruz was out, over by an ambulance talking with Hotch and some agents that the Secret Service had sent out.
You took off your shoes, sock-covered feet touching the concrete in an attempt to ground yourself while Spencer tried to take one of your hands in his. You had a death grip on the bench beneath you, and he peeled your fingers off of the metal one by one so he could start to wipe off the dried blood. “He said he always had to be in front of me,” you spoke, your voice nothing more than a mumble, but Spencer had years of practice decoding it.
“That’s protocol,” he reminded you softly. Of course, you knew that. Somewhere in your trauma-addled mind were the rules that the Secret Service had presented you.
You pursed your lips, “But if he’d—”
“Honey, you’ll drive yourself crazy if you try to think of what could’ve been different,” he told you. A sharpness emerged in his voice, one you only heard when he was worried about you.
When your instinct was to run, you hadn’t thought what it would be like for Spencer to run outside and find your protection dead and you missing. He hadn’t yet had the opportunity to read the initial email, but he’d likely figured enough to know that the person who was after you had no interest in keeping you alive. “I didn’t…” You gasped, “I wasn’t…”
Spencer’s face fell, pulling himself up so he was sitting next to you on the bench. “Hey, it’s okay,” he hummed. “Just breathe, I’ve got you.”
You looked around frantically. “Did they get the shooter?”
He nodded. “You’re completely safe.”
Behind him, Felix’s body remained under a sheet, preventing anyone from taking photos, but outside of the cover, you could see his blood. It had seeped out of his body, mixing on the concrete with the coffee you had knocked over during your escape. When Spencer reminded you not to look, you went back to watching him meticulously clean your hands. “I threw up,” you told him, why you felt it was pertinent, you weren’t entirely sure, but you told him anyway.
“That’s okay,” he reassured you. “It’s a manifestation of stress when you go into fight-or-flight.” He didn’t add the fact that you hadn’t consumed anything other than coffee, which likely didn’t help your nervous stomach.
Confused, you frowned at him. “I didn’t fight.” You corrected him, “I ran.”
He paused for a moment, squeezing your hand even though feeling hadn’t returned to your extremities, “You told me you tried to help Felix before you hid, and that’s a fight in and of itself.”
“I did?” You asked, not remembering that prior conversation.
Spencer was solemn in front of you. “You’re in shock,” he observed as if your question had been the final clarification he needed to diagnose you.
You shook your head. “I’m not bleeding.” Though, looking at all of the blood that had gotten on your clothes, it would be easy to make that assumption.
“Emotional shock, baby,” he reminded you gently. “That’s why you can’t feel your hands,” he said.
The memory of telling him you couldn’t feel your hands evaded you, trying to think of the moment you’d told him you were numb, but nothing rose to the surface. You couldn’t even remember the moment your hearing had returned; at some point while Spencer and Morgan helped you walk to the bench, you thought. “My head hurts,” you murmured, shifting uncomfortably on the bench.
He raised his eyebrows. “Did you hit it when you fell?”
“I don’t remember,” you admitted. You didn’t even remember falling until Blake had brought Spencer bandages for your knees.
Nodding in understanding, Spencer set down the damp towel he had been using and looked at your eyes, probably checking your pupils before he carefully wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck while he spoke to you gently, “I’ll keep an eye on it. You don’t have to worry about anything, okay? I’ll take care of it.”
You hiccupped back a sob, moving your face to allow for easier breathing. Tears seared your lash line before you finally blinked them out, quiet cries muffled by Spencer’s shoulder as your body finally felt the release it had been seeking.
“Oh, honey,” Spencer cooed, pulling you closer to him. He didn’t care about who was watching; he only worried about being there for you. “I’ve got you.”
His words rang in your ears as you sobbed, your trembling arms reaching around him, pins and needles striking your fingers as you gathered the fabric of his jacket in your hands. Oddly enough, a sigh of relief escaped your lips.
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multiversediaries · 1 month ago
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AT LAST
⤷ BUCKY BARNES X READER
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summary: after months apart, bucky finally came home.
warnings: soft!!!!!! soft buck!
masterlist
“y/n? i’m back." you heard someone say loudly. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. you lived alone, well, sometimes. you were james barnes' wife. you had met him a long time ago, you were always there for him, and he was deadly in love with you. he cared so deeply about you. if something were to happen to you, he'd lose his mind. which is why he decided to hide your marriage, to keep you out of danger's way. you walked towards your front door, wondering who it was. your eyes light up as you saw your husband standing in front of you.
"hey, doll." bucky said smiling, genuinely smiling, as he took you into his strong arms. behind him, were the avengers, all of them. they were currently in a mission, that was supposed to take a while, which was the reason you were so surprised to see your husband back at your shared house.
"what's happening?" you heard tony say, confused at the sight of you two. you giggled a bit, pulling away from your hug. bucky smiled at you, taking in how gorgeous you looked. he wrapped his hand around your waist.
"i'm sorry i didn't let you know in advance, but we needed a place where we couldn't be tracked." bucky said, his voice as soft as always. you noticed the confused faces whilst your husband spoke to you as he has always done, soft and incredibly sweetly. you nodded, softly humming in response, a big smile planted on your lips, understanding him.
"alright, robocop, spill. where are we and who's the lovely woman?" tony asked, making your cheeks flush softly. you heard bucky sigh. you rubbed his back gently.
"she's bucky's wife, tony." steve said, gaining your attention. you smiled at him, he chuckled at you. "it's nice to see you again, y/n." he said, leaning over to hug you. you instantly hugged him back, squeezing him gently. steve was present at your wedding. you couldn't help but smile at tony's reaction. everyone always reacted the same way about your marriage to james. it sometimes made your heart ache. because how could so many people think that he's unloveable?
"wife?" natasha spoke in surprise, as you looked at her. you knew nat. you were a widow. you escaped a few years after she did. you gave her a hug as well, glad to see she was doing well. "you didn't tell me you got married. i must admit, my feelings are hurt." she sad, pouting, you laughed.
"it was my idea. i just- i didn't want her in any danger." bucky said, as you looked back up at your husband. you smiled at him, his hand tracing circles on your skin. natasha nodded.
"well, come inside." you said softly, walking into your living room, everyone following behind you. they all took seats around your couch. you walked up to your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit, as you saw some of them were injured.
"everything alright?" you said gently, as you sat across from tony, who had a few cuts on his face. bucky stood by the door frame, as he watched you.
"it just got complicated." steve said, sighing. you nodded, not wanting to intrude. you began cleaning tony's wounds, earning a few hisses from him. you tried to be as gentle as possible.
"i'm sorry, i just don't get it." tony said, breaking the silence, looking at you. you tilted your head in confusion, as you applied a band aid on his small cut. "how can someone like you be married to him?" he asked cockily. you laughed a bit at his words. you knew tony and bucky were not in a good place, after all, the winter soldier was responsible for his parents' deaths. but that wasn't bucky's fault.
"because you only know the winter soldier, but i know james barnes." you simply said, moving onto clint's injuries. bucky couldn't help but smile at your words. that was something he loved about you, how unashamed you were to love him. even after everything he had done, you wouldn't leave his side. he felt so undeserving of you.
after cleaning all of their wounds, you prepared some food for them. you wanted to help as much as you could, and it just felt so nice to have people around. you didn't have many friends apart from bucky, steve and natasha. you smiled as you watched the avengers dine, talking over their mission as you cleaned the dishes. you felt someone's hand wrap around you. you smiled, almost instantly.
"i missed you, darling." bucky said, planting a sweet kiss to your neck. you smiled widely, turning around to face him. you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging his body close to yours.
"i missed you even more, barnes. have you been doing alright?" you asked softly, your hands now laying in his cheeks, caressing his gorgeous features. you had spent so much time apart from him. almost three months apart. you felt empty without your other half. he nodded, kissing your forehead.
"i'm okay. i just want to be here with you." he said softly. your hands ran to now caress his back, as you looked up at bucky.
"i know, baby. but they need you. and honestly, you need them too." you said, leaning up to kiss his jaw. he nodded, before planting a sweet peck to your lips. he walked back towards your dining table, and continued the conversation about their mission.
it was very late at night already. all of the guys were resting. you had a lot of empty rooms, so you were able to offer a room to every single one of them. you wanted them to be comfortable, after everything they had gone through lately. you yawned softly as you waited for bucky on your shared bed. he walked out of the bathroom, drying his wet hair on a towel. you smiled at him, you couldn't believe he was back. he sat by the end on the bed and just looked at you. you smiled at him, before standing up, to help him off his prosthetic arm.
"it's alright, doll. maybe i should keep it on." he said, staring up at you as you stood right in front of him. you placed both your hands on his face.
"you're home, buck. you're safe." you said lightly, earning a shaky breath to leave his mouth. he wrapped his arms around your hips, hugging you. your hands ran to his soft hair, before planting a sweet kiss on his head.
"for the first time in a while, i was scared, y/n." you heard bucky say, you listened to his every word, as you played with his hair. "i was terrified of not coming back to you." he said, his arms tightening around you, earning a frown from you.
"james.." you said softly, trying your hardest to find his eyes. he was scared, you could tell. you wonder what had happened to have him this shaken up.
"it's just so much worse than we thought.. i'm not sure we'll be able to do something about it." he said, now looking up to meet your gorgeous eyes. you sighed softly.
"you'll be okay, my love. you will all be okay." you said, as you felt his hands pulling you even closer to him, as if he needed to feel you close. "i don't know the extent of what's happening, but i do know one thing. you guys are the earth's mightest heroes. it's alright to have doubts, but don't let them control you. you may not know what to do right now, but you will soon enough." you said, one of your hands running to his check to caress his beautiful face. "we all need a break sometimes. take this time to rest, and reflect. and a solution will come to you. but for now, rest, baby." you finished. he sighed and nodded. you always knew what to say.
"gosh, doll. i have missed you so much. being apart from you is torture." he said, now letting go of your waist. you smiled widely, kissing him lovingly, before helping him take off his arm. you placed it on the case and walked back to him, you placed a kiss to his shoulder, climbing back to bed once again.
bucky followed you to bed, laying his head on your chest. your hand ran to his hair, your fingers getting lost into his brown hair. bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you as close as he possible could. you placed small kisses to his head and forehead, as your gentle giant fell asleep peacefully in your arms.
at last. he was home.
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potchi-fics · 3 months ago
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note: amab caitlyn. contains overstimulation, breeding kink, and jealous cait yummy. ang sarap niya fuckkkk sarap sarap sarap ALSO I DIDNT REALIZE THIS WAS SO LONG (not proofread. and i kid you not, my google docs crashed THREE TIMES while i was writing this. this is my new years present to yall--2024 may be down but cait's dick is up)
“darling, you know we have to go out in thirty minutes,” caitlyn’s distant voice called out from your closet.
you’re currently doing up your make-up in front of the mirror, doing finishing touches, “yeah, i know, baby. i’m about to be done. how about you?”
      you see her come out of the room, whistling when you see her outfit, it’s an all-black outfit: jacket with a black button-up, trousers, and loafers. simple yet elegant. she walks towards you while fixing the cuffs of her button-up.
“you look absolutely beautiful, darling,” her arms snake around your hips, kissing the side of your neck, “do we have to go?”
just in time to finish your make-up, a giggle escapes your lips, and you turn around to face her, your own wrapping around her neck, “you look gorgeous, baby. and you, house kiramman, are the ones hosting the gala, stupid.”
      she gives you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes squinting for a second but you see it, she doesn’t want to go. you gently pull her down, how she grew so much is still a mystery to you.
“it’ll be done before you know it,” you peck her lips, your lipstick leaving its mark on her—you rub it away tenderly, “come on, honey. we are gonna be late.” your kisses seemed to repeat, enunciating every word with a kiss.
caitlyn hums in content, her eyes closing, “you do realize your lipstick is fading the more you kiss me, right?”
“i’ll retouch in the car.”
      the gala is everything you expected: formal, rich people. you step into the venue and you immediately spot mrs. kiramman and her husband.
she hugs you, “i’m glad you two are able to make it.” she makes her way to her daughter, “surprised you’re here, can’t seem to pull you away from your work.”
“good thing i’m here, mrs. kiramman,” an arm wraps around your waist, kissing the top of your head, “caitlyn here is married to her work, i swear. and here i thought i was gonna be married to her first.”
“i am not married to my work.” caitlyn grumbles, sticking closer to you. “i am a very busy woman, is all.”
      you two converse with her parents for a while before an attending guest invited himself in your little party, taking away the older couple. that leaves the two of you alone. you grab a champagnes, offering caitlyn a glass. 
for about an hour or two, you two got separated, engaging other people. you give caitlyn a smile, who is on the other side of the room when you catch her gaze. she’s been watching you occasionally, keeping an eye on you.
and she doesn’t miss how a woman is trying to hit on you. of course, you’re oblivious to it. caitlyn’s eyes glint dangerously under the light, her teeth grinding when she sees the woman touch your arm, lingering for someone who’s supposed to be a stranger, undressing you with her eyes, and even going as far as touching your back, it barely made contact, but still. and that’s enough for her to down her champagne, make a beeline for to you, her strides strong and wide.
“oh, and this is my partner, caitlyn kiramman,” caitlyn rightfully takes her spot beside you, squeezing herself in between you and the stranger, “hi, honey.”
“hello,” she gives your little crowd a charming smile, though it holds a little bit of malice. she pulls you closer to her, “i may need to steal her away. we have some business to attend to, i’m afraid so.”
      without giving you a chance to talk, you two walk away—you’re glad though, you are tired of their stuffy personalities. a confused expression takes over your face when caitlyn leads you outside of the venue, leading you to a hallway and going through door after door.
your gaze observes the room, and you assume that the two of you are very far away from the party. she locks the door, unbottons her jacket, taking it off, and throws it on a couch.
“cait, where are w–”
      you didn’t get to finish your question because her lips were on yours the moment you spoke, her hand going on the side of your neck, fingers softly digging themselves into your skin to tilt your head up, deepening the kiss. 
you whimper when you feel her tongue take a swipe on your lips, asking you to open your mouth and you do. her tongue slithers in, licking every part of your mouth. she is demanding, yearning—like she wants all of you.
her knee presses between your legs, you let out a whimper of pleasure, grounding yourself on her thigh, your hands clutching the fabric of her shirt. 
“grind yourself on my leg, darling.” she pulls away to say, her voice deep and husky, “i’m waiting.”
      you’ve never been so happy to wear a side-slit dress. thanks to the access, you’re able to grind on caitlyn’s leg, rubbing your clothed pussy; the numb pleasure takes over your mind, caitlyn’s adding to your pleasure by leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, collarbone, lips, everywhere her lips could reach.
your hips stutter, and your clit going sensitive—it’s maddening, you need more. but caitlyn won’t give it to you, not yet. you let out a gasp, burying your head on her shoulder, the pleasure slowly taking over your whole being; it’s as if your body is on fire. 
you start to feel lightheaded. desperate for more, you grab your hand, leading it under your dress, your other tugging it higher, a flush creeping up your neck at the thought of doing this outside your home.
“hmm?” caitlyn knows how to make you beg, she resists your movements, throwing a teasing smile your way, “what is it you want, my love? i’m gonna need you to say what you want.”
you narrow your eyes at her, your gaze betraying the frustration you try to keep at bay, “honey, you dragged me here. take responsibility.”
“of course, darling.” caitlyn clutches a handful of your dress, crumpling it as she pulls it higher to expose your lower body. she removes herself from you and kneels, her hand gripping your undergarments, yanking it down in a rough, deliberate motion, taking it off of you. “i’ll take responsibility.”
      she puts one leg over her shoulder, caitlyn looking up at you as she takes one lick at your awaiting cunt, studying how close your eyes, head tilting back against the wall; watching how you stifled a gasp, but a faint sound slips through. 
desire coursed through her, undeniable and all-consuming—she went harder, deeper, sinking further into you, her nose bumping with your clit. your hands dart down, gripping her hair with desperation and need. she flattens her tongue for you, and you take that chance to grind your hips. you can feel yourself dripping, it’s beginning to travel down your legs. 
a low hum of satisfaction reverbed around the room, sending vibrations on your cunt—caitlyn is loving every second of this. knowing that only she can see you break down like this. her dick is begging to be let out.
you push her away, your breaths coming in short pants, and due to her being caught off-guard, she fell on her backside, staring up at you wildly. in an instant, you’re on your knees, crawling to where she is, coming between her legs.
your fingers fumble with the button of her trousers, pulling it down along with her undergarments, setting her weeping cock free. 
“care to explain what’s going on here, caitlyn?” there’s huskiness to your voice, smooth yet commanding—your hands wrap themselves around the base of her cock, your mouth going dangerously near it, “go on then.”
caitlyn speaks the words, but her eyes give her away, “nothing is going on.”
“try again, baby.” you kiss her tip, a flinch is what you get from her. you continue to kiss everywhere: her dick, her thighs, her abdomen, her navel.
only did she speak when her lower body is covered in lipstick kisses, and she’s left throbbing in need. she grits out, “blame that woman. she was too touchy.”
“oh?” she lets out a groan of frustration, leaning back on her elbows, throwing her head back, and closing her eyes, “jealous?”
“i don’t get jealo–”
“then allow me to assure you.”
      you take her dick inside your mouth, inches after inches going down your throat, and all she can do is watch you take it. a guttural moan escapes her lips, her hips slightly lifting off of the ground—you close your eyes when you feel her go even deeper.
for a second, you stay there, deepthroating caitlyn, your nose buried in her neat patch of tamed hair, shaking your head ever so lightly; caitlyn loves it when you do that and she gives you a growl of appreciation.
she grabs your head, her other palm lying flat on the floor as leverage, and her hips take off. caitlyn’s eyes are unfocused, a distant haze clouding them as she soaks in the sight of you happily taking it.
“you love this, don’t– fuck, don’t you?” she murmurs. “always such a good girl for me.”
      to answer her question, you swallow around her, the motion made her falter, breaking her rhythm. your hands pressed firmly against her hips, keeping her down—you pull up, sucking only the tip, eyes meeting, and then slowly going back down.
“all the way to the base for me, darling,” she gently pushes your head to guide you, her cock twitching when your nose meets with her hair once again, “there you go. good girl. i’m close.”
you come back up suddenly, maneuvering yourself to straddle her hips, your hand darting down to lead her inside of you, “not yet.”
caitlyn grits out the words through clenched teeth, “it’ll be difficult in this position, darling.” she places her hands under your knees, your hands shooting out to wrap around her neck as she stands up.
      you feel the wall on your back, she drops one leg, keeping one leg lifted. the groans that leave you both as she enters you are raw, eyes fluttering close. god, she just keeps on sliding inside of you, you swear she’s kissing your cervix. 
caitlyn withdrew slowly, then returned in, taking her time with every inch. your hand comes down to cover your mouth, you’re still in public, after all. and caitlyn notices. a sudden slam of her hips made you let out a soft moan, but barely audible.
her relentless harsh thrusts never let up. caitlyn feels so good, you feel so good around her, you squeeze her so good; your whimpers, your ragged breaths hitting her throat, mewling out her name like a broken record every time the head of her gushing dick of precum hits your spot, it’s all too much for her. her head drops down to your shoulder as she cums—the wave of sudden warmth filling you taking you by surprise, your eyes unfocusing, tightening around her cock. 
by the time she’s done filling you up, she’s still moving her hips, pushing through her sensitivity. she needs this. she needs you.
she puts down your leg, turning you around, not pulling out of you. with your palms on the wall, her hands find your hips, holding it with a bruising grip, each slam of her hips on your backside sending you forward.
“only i could touch you like that, my love,” her frustration seeps through her thrusts, the claps of your hips mixing with your broken moans, “who does she think she is.”
      your knees buckle, but thanks to her strength, she holds you up. she may look lanky due to her height and weight, but she’s pure muscle. you grip her wrist, unable to form words because how could you when you feel her deep inside your gut, when you feel your slick trailing down your leg, making a mess on the floor, or simply the feeling of her cock going in and out of you.
your orgasm comes out of nowhere, catching you and her off-guard, your body shudders in pleasure, shaking and spasming, triggering another one from caitlyn. she bends down, groaning in your nape as she fills you again.
her thrusts transition into lazy ones as you ride out your orgasms. you nuzzle your cheek against her head, your throat beginning to sore, swallowing with difficulty. 
she pulls out of you, letting you two slide down the floor. you take this chance to lie on your back, your legs shivering, your forearm covering your sweaty face. you feel her firm but gentle touch on your legs.
her hands are back on the back of your knees again, forcing them up until you’re nearly folded in half, further ruining your dress, “one more.”
      she slides her cock in, your eyes rolling back in pleasure at the new angle—she is much deeper in this position. she feels your cunt flutter, pulling her in if that’s even possible. 
she begins her ruthless pace again, your breasts bouncing in your dress with the force of her thrust, determined to fill you up, to cum inside of you again and again. the pleasure is drowning you, whimpering when she hits your spot, then abusing it over and over and over again. you lift your head to see her dick disappear inside your sopping sensitive cunt, and to listen to the wet noises every time caitlyn thrusts back in you.
she wasn’t much better than you—her ruthless pace is becoming sloppy, uncoordinated, chasing her own high. her choked moans, breathy sighs as you milk her, feeds your ego.
you don’t make a sound when you cum for the second time, only the fluttering of your pussy makes it known. caitlyn doubles her effort by circling your clit, effectively intensifying your orgasm. only did she allow herself to cum when your fingers dig into her sides. 
she forces her dick in you, going deeper than ever before. the spurts of her gushing dick emit a soft sigh from you, she presses her face into your neck as she lets go of your legs. you hold her, playing with the hairs on the back of her head, not letting go until she’s done filling you up.
“fuck, cait, are you trying to get me pregnant or what.” you allow your limbs to relax, and you feel her cum drip down out of you. you’re sweaty and sticky all over, your throat sore, ears ringing, legs are shaking, pussy filled with her cum, eyes still unfocused, “you are an animal, honey.”
      you feel her kiss your jaw, her breaths still ragged, hitting your neck. you both moan as she pulls out, your face burns at the sight of her creamy cock, still twitching, and dripping with cum.
she sits back and leans on the wall, hissing when she grabbed the base of her dick. your whole body is screaming at you to lie down, however, you crawl again to her, sitting next to her. her eyes close shut and she lets her head fall on top of your head.
taking this chance, you wrap your hands around her softening dick; she reacts quickly, her fingers gripping your wrist.
“ah-ah. hands off, honey.” you pull your hand off your wrist. slowly, you jerk her off, swiping your thumb over her head, “just one more.”
      you let a mischievous smirk form when you see her face contort into pain and pleasure, the sensitivity becoming too much for her.
you pump your hand, relishing every time her cock twitches in your hand, every time her hips try to pull away from your hand. you see her hands form a fist, this must be painful for her.
“i did say i’ll assure you, didn’t i?” you kiss her cheek, your mouth lingering on it, “can you cum for me again?”
caitlyn’s hips start to subtly thrust up to meet your pumps, she feels your every touch, every line on your hands. her mouth hands open, her eyes remain closed, she’s pulsing in your hand.
“you’re the only person i touch like this, cailtyn.” your breath hitting her ears adds to her pleasure that is spreading all over her body. “yeah? just like this?” 
“da-darling,” caitlyn gasps out, “too sen-sensitive.” you grip harder, pump harder, “please, i can’t anymo-more.” 
      her back arches off the wall, eyes opening suddenly when she feels you take her tip in your mouth, sucking her like candy. she makes an attempt at pulling her hips back but it’s no use. it hurts. It hurts so good.
you hollow your cheeks, your hand following your mouth as your slurp, gag, and suck. caitlyn doesn’t know what to do, it’s too much for her—the burning pleasure on her cock. yet she yearns to cum.
you go back up for air, taking her tip in, not giving her a break, and your hand pumps the remaining inches. “go-gonna cum, darling–”
      without letting her speak, you quickly push her in you, smiling when you feel her cum inside of you again. she wraps her arms around your torso, grounding you unto her dick as she thrusts up, her cum painting your walls white again.
she muffles her groans using your chest, hugging you so tightly, that her muscles are flexing under her clothes. a sigh of contentment leaves you when she stops rocking her hips up, her dick softening inside of you.
“still jealous?” her breaths were ragged, coming in short gasps as she tried to steady herself. “come back to me, cait.”
oh, you done broke her.
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timmydraker · 5 months ago
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During a patrol in Gotham one night, Red Robin comes across a strange sight.
A young woman stands over a crumpled body with a sling shot primed and ready, aimed a man with a rather large hand gun. It’s clear she’s protecting the woman who looks like she’s been hit over the head and had her bag nabbed, as it’s ripped and contents are spilled everywhere.
The girl sits shaking, she isn’t scared at all, standing strong with a shard of glass aimed at the man’s crotch.
Tim jumps down and disarms the man smoothly before turning to the young girl, who upon closer inspection seems to be around thirteen years old.
“Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head and stares at him for a moment with awe in his eyes before her eyes widen and she turns to the person behind her, “But she is! That guy was cornering her and I tried to help but he hit her and-“
“Alright, I understand. Would you like to help me get her to the ER a few blocks away?”
The girl nods with a determination Tim remembers seeing in Dick and Jason in their Robin days and he smiles.
He doesn’t ask her what her name is because side he knows he’ll follow up and find something to feel guilty about, but the girl seems to have her own plans.
She shows up a couple of days later, standing on a tall building with a cheap Robin outfit on.
Tim is confused before he drops down and she gives a big grin and mock salute, “How can I help?”
Tim smiled a little before shaking his head, “Taking the title of Robin, are you?”
She nods, now more bashful, “Well, I want to help people. I don’t want to fight exactly, but… well, sometimes you bats are too busy with the villains to notice the little guy and- bro to say you’re a bad hero-“
“You’re right, it’s okay. We can only do so much and sometimes preventing more damage being done saves more lives, but there will always be a cost.”
She smiles, bright orange, and impressively curly, hair getting in her eyes and sticking to the poor quality glue of her fake domino.
“I want to help. I… can help, please.”
Tim answers after a solid minute of silence, “What is your name?”
She frowns, “Aren’t I supposed to have a secret identity?”
He smiles in answer, “Yes, but I know what you look like and I can find out, I’m asking out of politeness.”
The girl looks like she could pout and Tim feels strangely old at the sight, even if he’s still got a few months before he can even legally drink.
“Carrie. Caroline to be specific.”
Tim smiles, “Well, Carrie, here’s the deal. I will meet you here or somewhere like here every night and until, and only until, you can land a hit on me will I agree to let you help.”
While Carrie doesn’t look pleased she nods, a clear sense of hope in her eyes even as she looks nervous.
She looses the first fight, and the second and third and fourth, but she gets better and better.
Tim doesn’t tell anyone about Carrie Kelly, nor does he tell her that he does end up doing a back ground check and finds two dead beat parents more focused on weed than their incredibly skilled daughter.
When she proves to be relentless in her desire to save lives he sends her to a teacher to help her stay hidden and safe. He’s not like Bruce, he doesn’t send her overseas to some dangerous people, but close by and to someone he trust to not hurt her nor tell anyone else about the strange young girl whose managed to give him a taste of his own medicine.
Selina Kyle is more than happy to take in the girl when she watches her sling shot fire crackers at muggers.
When Carrie comes back and meets Tim on a rooftop, she not only manages to hit him but knocks him off his feet.
Tim grins at her, pride filling his mind and making him understand Bruce just a little more.
But unlike Bruce, he isn’t throwing her into the fight at all.
Tim Drake is the one who pays for her school pills while her yippie parents refuse to work or spend money on her, and sends her real time footage of medical lectures in various collages across the country.
Carrie doesn’t become Robin, nor did she even wear that suit after the second night and he gave her a basic training outfit that properly covered her eyes and hair, but she does become something else.
She becomes Cardinal, the vigilante that swoops in to save civilians and provide the medical care that saves hundreds of people and allows the ambulances and hospitals to have a chance.
When she makes her debut the other bats worry about a new kid making bad choices, probably inspired by them, but Tim ignores it if only because he’s actually proud of her and trust her in a way he hasn’t trusted teammates in years.
After a year of this, a young girl asks for a meeting with Mister Tim Drake at his company and, purely so he wouldn’t have to do more pointless numbers, he lets her in after she passes the security check.
The girl who comes into his office is barely ten, cute little clips in her dark bob hair and a big book bag almost half her size behind her.
Tim recognised her instantly once he sees the bright yellow shoes she’s wearing.
This little girl, name Mia Mizoguchi, has been stalking him and Carrie for a few months now.
After he enrolled Carrie at Gotham Academy, the young girl nicknamed ‘Maps’ had been asking Carrie a lot of questions. Carrie had been good at avoiding incriminating answers, but had fallen for the younger girls clever trap as she casually spoke out infomation that could help with cases and Carrie delivered it back to Tim.
As soon as he realised that Maps had done exactly what he had done and figured out who Carrie was he was impressed. Because even if Carrie was new to the game, she had a skill for tricking people into looking away from her and had done well to stay low.
Maps had made the connection back to Tim, apparently.
Luckily, unlike Bruce, he wasn’t ignorant to their little stalker and actually knew her family from a few galas and charities. To be fair, Tim also wasn’t clouded by grief, but as he lets the girl explain how she totally doesn’t know who Red Robin is but if she did know who he was she would want him to know that a new drug trade route was actually being covered by a cotton candy company and she has over sixty pages worth of proof.
When he shows up to The Nest (named by Carrie) with Maps behind him, he finds Cardinal waiting with an excited gleam in her eyes.
Due to her being so young, Tim doesn’t allow Maps to go into the field until she’s the same age as both he and Carrie were, but she’s quick to show her worth taking over coms and doing an insanely detailed level of detective work that Tim can’t help but be a little jealous of.
Just like Carrie, who has been trying with Selina about only becoming Catgirl if Catwoman stops being a criminal for a few weeks now, he sends her to someone else for mentor ship.
Maps is a sweet girl, but she loves to talk and has a lot of friends who have most of the same interest, so he sends her to the one bat member he trust most.
Cassandra Cain immediately tells Tim that he has to adopt both of them and can’t quite understand why them both having living parents matters.
It’s Cass who gives Maps her vigilante name, Sparrow.
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beloveds-embrace · 4 months ago
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I think it would be so funny if Duke Price, before he and the other warms up to duchess, finds out that his wife has been secretly getting money via trade and whatnot and being offended. Like, why not come to me, your husband, for money??
And she just straight up tells him that she doesn’t trust or like him or his lovers. After all, who would trust a cheater?? And he just, spirals? Like omg my wife doesn’t like me? My wife thinks I’m a bad person? But I’m not!! I give her money, I don’t make her have sex with me, I even let her pick her own dresses!! How could my wife not like me?? So now he’s trying his best to get Duchess to like him but she’s just, so done. Done with him, done with his affair partners, done with everything. Just let her have fun with her stocks and leave her alone
I genuinely think the moment dukedom 141 senses that Duchess doesn’t care about them, they suddenly want her to care about them, a real “I only like you when you don’t like me” thing
!!! I love this idea sm omggg thank you for this ask anon, I hope you enjoy!
Dukedom au masterlist
The fire crackled in the hearth of the study, casting shadows across the room. John stood behind his desk, his fingers gripping the edge as he stared down at the ledger in front of him. You sat across from him, your posture poised, your expression cool.
“This,” he said, his voice low, “isn’t just improper. It’s disrespectful. You’re my wife, Duchess. If you needed money, all you had to do was come to me.”
You tilted you head, the barest hint of a smile on you lips, though it lacked warmth. “Why would I do that?”
His brows furrowed, confusion flickering in his eyes the longer he stared and listened to you. “Because I’m your husband. It’s my duty to provide for you.”
You replying laughter was sharp, humorless. “Provide? Is that what you call this arrangement? You married me because you needed someone to handle your duchy while you gallivanted with your…” you hesitated, lips pursing as you considered your next word. “…partners. And you expect me to trust you? To come to you with my needs?”
John blinked, taken aback by the venom in your tone- a tone you’ve never aimed at him before. “I’ve done nothing to make you distrust me, Duchess-”
You scoffed. “Haven’t you? You think I don’t notice the whispered conversations, the way I’m barred from certain parts of the house, the way your men watch me like I’m a threat? You think I don’t know that I’m an outsider in what was supposed to be my own home?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but you weren’t finished.
“And it’s not just you,” you say, your voice rising. “Your butler, Kyle, your chef, Johnny, even your precious Duke Riley. They’re all loyal to you, John. Not to me. I don’t even need their loyalty, just some respect. Why would I put my trust in people who clearly see me as nothing more than an inconvenience?”
“They don’t think that.”
Your gaze bore into him, unflinching. He didn’t think you’d ever given him such a cold stare, and he didn’t like it. At all. “Don’t they? Tell me, John, when was the last time any of them looked at me as anything other than someone they have to put up with? When was the last time any of them looked at me as more than just an obligation? When was the last time you did?”
Silence hung heavy in the room, broken only by the distant ticking of the clock and the crackling embers in the hearth.
John’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I’ve treated you with nothing but respect,” he said, his voice tight. “I’ve never forced you to-”
“To share your bed?” You interrupted, your tone icy. “How magnanimous of you. Truly, I’m blessed to have such a kind and generous husband.”
Your sarcasm stung more than he cared to admit.
“I give you freedom,” he argued, grasping at any straws. Your words rang true, but John still found it hard to accept. “You’ve wanted for nothing since our marriage. You have everything you could possibly need.”
“Everything,” you repeated, your tone mocking. “Except trust. Except companionship. Except a reason to believe that any of this-“ you gestured vaguely at the room around them, at the duchy, at your marriage. “- is real.”
Your words hung in the air, cutting deeper than any blade.
Over the next few days, John found himself haunted by you words. You didn’t trust him. You didn’t trust any of them. And, worst of all, you didn’t like him.
At dinners, you were distant, answering questions with clipped politeness but offering very little else, conversations ending curtly. When you weren’t working on your secretive ledgers or taking solitary walks through the estate, you spent your evenings reading in your chambers, the door firmly shut against him and his men.
Kyle noticed the change immediately, of course, something squirming in his chest unhappily. “She’s colder than a January frost,” he sighed one evening, setting a decanter of brandy on John’s desk.
Price sighed right back at him. “Not exactly helping, Kyle.”
“I’m just saying, she’s got every reason to be,” Kyle continued, unbothered by John. “She’s a stranger in her own home. You can’t expect her to warm up to us when none of us have given her a reason to. We’ve mucked up.”
John scowled, downing a glass of brandy in one go. “She’s my wife. She should trust me.”
“Trust isn’t something you’re owed, John,” Kyle said, his voice softer now. “It’s something you earn and you and I both know none of us has given her any reason to earn it.”
Kyle was right, of course. But-
John’s attempts of mending the trust between the two of you were clumsy at best.
He tried joining you during your walks, only to be met with polite indifference.
“Shouldn’t you be with your men, Your Grace?” You asked one time, your tone as sharp as the winter air.
“They’ll manage without me.” he replied, though your pointed look made it clear you truly thought otherwise.
At dinner, he attempted conversations, asking about your day and your interests. You answered with politeness, but your gaze rarely lifted from your plate. Even Johnny’s attempts to brighten the atmosphere with your favorite dishes were met with little more than a murmured “thank you.”
Simon, ever observant, pulled him aside after one particularly stilted dinner where it got so awkward you didn’t finish your meal or had dessert before you left. “You’re trying too hard, John.” he said, his voice low. “You are just stifling her.”
“What am I supposed to do, Simon?” John snapped at last. “She doesn’t trust me. She doesn’t trust any of us.”
Simon’s expression didn’t waver. Ever since he’d learnt of that conversation you’d had with John, what you’d said and thought about them all, Simon has been thinking it over his mind again and again. “…Then stop treating her like a problem to solve. Start treating her like a person. We failed her once, can’t fail her a second time.”
And so, one evening, John found you in the study, the room dimly lit by the glow of a single lamp. You were hunched over a ledger, your brows furrowed in concentration.
“Duchess…” he breathed out. “Do you need help?” The question comes out tentative.
You glanced up, your expression unreadable beyond the tiredness he could see clinging to you. “I’m fine.”
Still, John lingered in the doorway, unsure of his next move. “I wanted to apologize,” he said at last, no longer beating around the bush. He was done.
Your quill stilled, and you looked up at him, your eyes wary.
“For what I said,” John continued anyways, stepping into the room. “And for how I’ve treated you. You were right. About everything.”
At last, your gaze softened, but you didn’t speak, letting him continue.
“I never wanted this to be such a… cold arrangement for you,” he said, voice faltering. “I didn’t realize how much I’d… neglected you. I am truly sorry, Duchess.”
“… what brought about this sudden realization?”
John hesitated, and then he sighed. “I… I want you to trust me. To trust us.”
You laugh was bitter and cutting, just as it had heen on that day. “Trust you? Trust the men who keep me at arm’s length, who whisper behind my back, who make it clear every day that I’m an outsider? Forgive me if I’m not so easily swayed, Your Grace.”
Your words struck him like a blow, but he held his ground. “Then let me prove it to you,” he said, his voice earnest. “Let me earn it, my Duchess.”
You studied him for a long moment before finally speaking. “… We’ll see.”
And for the first time, John felt a good flicker of hope.
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dovesdreaming · 7 months ago
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The softening edge
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Summary: Readers love language is touch and Theo usually loves it until someone (ahem Draco who else) makes fun of Theo for it. He ends up pushing you away until he realised how much of an idiot he’s been.
Request
Masterlist
Warnings: none
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Theodore Nott was used to being alone. He preferred it that way. It was simpler, quieter and free from the complications of messy emotions. But you, you had waltzed into his life with your bright smile and warm touches, wrapping him in a blanket of affection he didn’t know how to handle. At first, he had been wary, guarded, and unsure of what you wanted from him. But your persistence wore down his defenses, slowly, like the ocean smoothing out rough stones on the shore. And before he knew it, he found himself looking forward to the sound of your laughter, the light touches on his arm, and the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled at him.
Today was no different. You met him in the common room, practically bouncing with energy, and immediately reached out to fix the collar of his shirt. He caught a whiff of your familiar perfume as you stood close, and something in his chest warmed, something he hadn’t felt in years. "You're always so put together, Theo” you teased, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle. “But even perfection needs a little touch-up”. He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips tugged upward despite himself. “And that’s what you’re here for, I suppose?” “Obviously.” You grinned up at him, pleased with your handiwork. You reached up, gently combing your fingers through his hair to push it in the right direction that he liked and his breath hitched. It was so natural to you for you to touch him like this, but for him, it was foreign. Bewildering and addicting all at once.
Draco Malfoy watched from across the common room, a smirk playing on his lips. "Nott, you're getting soft” he sneered, his face filled with amusement. The other boys chuckled, and Theodore felt a prickle of irritation. He met Draco’s gaze, his expression hardening, but the damage was done. The words burrowed under his skin like thorns. Was he really becoming soft? Was he losing the edge that kept him safe, that kept people at a distance? He didn’t respond to Draco’s comment, but it echoed in his mind long after you’d said goodbye and headed off to your next class. The rest of the day, he was on edge, thinking about what Draco had said and how the others had laughed.
Later that evening, you found him again, this time in the library. You came up behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder as you read over his notes. “You work too hard, you know that?” you murmured, your voice soft in his ear. “You need to relax sometimes”. His entire body stiffened at your touch, Draco's words gnawing at him like a relentless parasite. He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the irritation that was bubbling up inside him. You didn’t notice, still speaking in that gentle, affectionate tone that usually calmed him. But now, it felt suffocating.
“Stop” he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. He shrugged you off, causing you to stumble back a step. You blinked, hurt flashing across your face. “Theo..” He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I said stop. You’re always hovering, always- just, give me some space”. Your eyes widened, the warmth in them rapidly cooling into confusion and pain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise..” “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t be so clingy” he bit out, his words sharp enough to wound. He regretted them the moment they left his mouth, but it was too late.
You took a step back, as if physically recoiling from his words. The light in your eyes dimmed, replaced by something hollow. “I’ll..I’ll leave you alone, then”. Your voice was barely a whisper as you turned and walked away. Theodore stood there, rooted to the spot, watching you go. The library felt colder, emptier without you in it. He wanted to call out, to take back everything he’d just said, but his pride held his tongue. Instead, he sat back down, glaring at the parchment in front of him that suddenly seemed meaningless.
The next few days were unbearable. You avoided him, no longer seeking him out between classes or sitting beside him in the common room. Your absence was like a black hole, pulling at him, making everything seem dull and lifeless. He caught glimpses of you, always at a distance, your once bright demeanor now subdued. He missed your voice, your touch, the way you made everything feel less bleak. He missed you more than he thought possible. It was during one particularly lonely evening in the common room that he realized what a fool he had been. You had only ever been kind to him, offering warmth and light in a life that had been cold and dark for so long. And he had thrown it all away because he was too afraid of what it meant to care for someone. Draco's words echoed in his mind again, but this time, they brought clarity instead of confusion. He wasn’t getting soft. He was learning to let someone in, and that was the hardest, bravest thing he had ever done.
He had to make it right. The next day, he found you sitting by the lake, staring out at the water. He approached slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. When you noticed him, you didn’t smile; you didn’t even look surprised. You just watched him with those sad, tired eyes that made him feel like the worst kind of villain. He sat down beside you, close but not touching. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry” he finally said, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean what I said. I… I was an idiot”.
You didn’t respond at first, and he felt panic rising in his chest. What if he had ruined everything beyond repair? But then you spoke, your voice quiet and distant. “Why did you say it, Theo? What changed?”. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “You heard what Draco said. That you were making me weak You looked at him, really looked at him, and he felt exposed under your gaze. “Do you really believe that?” Your eyebrows creased upwards, eyes laced with a mix of emotions.
“No” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it scared me. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be strong, to be… untouchable. Letting someone in- it felt like losing control”. “And now?” you asked, your eyes searching his. “Now I realize that being with you.. it doesn’t make me weak. It makes me feel alive” He took a deep breath, his heart pounding. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I don’t want to push you away. I want… I want you. I need you”. His shoulders were tensed upwards trying to gage your reaction, his eyes revealing how desperate he seemed for your forgiveness.
You watched him for a long moment, the tension between you thick and suffocating. Then, slowly, you reached out and took his hand. “You really hurt me, Theo” you said, your voice soft but firm. “But.. I believe you’re sorry. Just don’t do it again, okay? If you need space, talk to me. Don’t shut me out”. “I won’t” he promised immediately agreeing to your terms while squeezing your hand. “I’ll do better. I swear”. You nodded, a small smile finally breaking through the sadness on your face. “Good. Because I like you, Theodore Nott, and I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily”.
He felt a wave of relief wash over him, and for the first time in days, he allowed himself to smile. You allowed yourself to finally resort back your own nature of touch and leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. Maybe Draco was right. Maybe he was getting soft. But if this was what it felt like to be soft, then Theodore Nott was more than willing to lose that battle.
-
Thank you for reading! Please send requests for him <3
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tulip-room · 9 months ago
Text
✧.*Cheat Day*.✧
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Pairing: Sakusa x Fem! Reader
Words: 1.3k
Content:  Sakusa forgets his lunch at home and you bring it to him. One problem, you guys forgot to tell his friends you were dating. 
a/n: This is part of my Sweet Treats writing series! The first installment so keep an eye out for the other parts and the taglist for the other stories are open!!!
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All you had wanted to do was bring your boyfriend lunch because he forgot it at home. Of course you had also been baking a new recipe and needed feedback on it, so the obvious choice was your boyfriend. You had texted him letting him know you would be stopping by practice with his lunch and a small treat. Once you had reached the doors of the gym though it all seemed to go down hill. You weren’t yet ready for work so you had left the house in one of his hoodies and a simple skirt. 
You had completely forgotten that his teammates weren’t made aware of your relationship when you stepped through the door, bento box and clear container of cookies in hand. Unfortunately for you Atsumu was the first to see you. He made his way over with a smile while you stood at the door looking around for your boyfriend. “Aren’t you a cute little fan!” Your eye twitched as he approached and readjusted the mask on your face. You didn’t really want to interact with more people than necessary but here you are. You smiled before remembering the mask on your face obscured it so you lifted your hand to give him a small wave. “And who might those cookies be for? Me?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his overconfidence.
“No.” Your eyes continued to scan the gym but still no sign of your boyfriend. How you couldn’t find Sakusa was a mystery to you since he usually stuck out like a sore thumb. Atsumu gathered your attention again by waving a hand in front of your face. 
“How you wound me. So who might the cookies and lunch be for then cutie?” He was starting to annoy you a little bit with his blatant flirting. Couldn’t he see how uninterested you were? You thought you were making it fairly obvious. Luckily though you catch a glimpse of your tall boyfriend. It seemed he had gone to the locker room to grab something, his phone. He looked almost as annoyed as you. Your face lit up when you saw him though. “Oh?” Atsumu followed your line of sight. “Sorry to disappoint but Omi Omi doesn’t really take gifts from fans.” You rolled your eyes and pushed past him to your boyfriend. 
Atsumu looked in shock as he saw a smile spread across Sakusa’s face upon seeing you. Was he opening his arms for a hug? Now he was really confused. Atsumu rushed over to watch the interaction. “Who is this Omi Omi?”
Sakusa sighed and kept one arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. He would’ve been happy had the short outburst from Miya not collected the attention of the rest of the team. “My girlfriend dimwit.” He scoffs as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky. The team is in shock, Sakusa? Brooding, cold, uninterested Sakusa has a girlfriend before them? How did that happen? 
“What?!” Atsumu lets out a yelp in surprise. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? I look stupid now!”
“You don’t need any help with that,” Sakusa tsked. 
“I’m so sorry for flirting with you earlier.” Atsumu bowed towards you. Oh, there was that scowl he was so used to seeing. 
“You flirted with my girlfriend?”
“How was I supposed to know she was your girlfriend! We didn’t even know you had one until a few minutes ago!” 
“Maybe look with your eyes at the hoodie she’s wearing,” Sakusa scoffs and motions to your hoodie. Upon first glance it looks like a regular MSBY Sakusa hoodie but Atsumu can see it’s one of the ones the team was gifted. Instead of the usual black the hoodie is gold with the mascot on the chest and the number 15 in black across your midriff. He’s sure if he looked on the back it would say Sakusa. Atsumu visibly deflated.
“It’s not my fault Omi! I thought she was just a cute little fan!”
“Yeah, my little fan.” Sakusa rolls his eyes. You let out another small laugh at the exchange and shake the bento box and cookie container. 
“I need you to taste test these cookies my love,” you say gently as Sakusa leads you over to the bench where the two of you sit down. Atsumu is still upset that he didn’t know his friend had a partner and that he made their first meeting awkward by flirting with her. 
He still thought it was unfair that Sakusa had a girlfriend to bring him lunch and sweet treats when he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Sakusa eat a sweet before. He’s sure the other boy has but Atsumu has never been witness to it. Sakusa takes the container gently from your hands and takes a cookie from the box. They’re simple but you wanted to make sure they were good. Sakusa isn’t one to sugar coat anything so you always trust his opinion. 
It’s a chocolate cookie with sprinkles in it like a confetti cookie. Sakusa takes a small bite and gives you an even smaller smile now that he’s aware of the eyes on him. “It’s good, maybe add more sugar though the sweeter they are the better they’ll probably sell.” Sell? Atsumu takes another look at you. You nod at Sakusa’s review and smile as you stand up. 
“You’re more than welcome to share with the rest of your team. There should be enough in there, also don’t forget your lunch next time. I won’t always have time before work to bring it to you.”
“How do you know I didn’t leave it on purpose just to see you again?” This causes your face to grow much warmer than it was a minute ago. Sakusa flirting always caught you off guard, you don’t think you’ll ever be used to it. 
“Kiyo, silly boy.” You shake your head and ruffle his hair slightly. He shakes his head and fixes his hair. “I have to go, but play nice with your teammates. I’ll see you at home.” You pull your mask down and kiss over his moles before quickly leaving. While Sakusa isn’t one for PDA he can’t complain about your sweet treats and even sweeter kisses. 
“So, Omi Omi. What did you mean by "sell better?”
Sakusa rolls his eyes. “You really can’t be this dense can you?” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “She owns a bakery. I taste test her new stuff so she knows whether she should sell it or not.” Atsumu rolls his own eyes.
“Right, and you taste test everything?” Sakusa nods, a small blush taking its place on his face. “But I’ve never seen you eat anything sweet.”
“I didn’t used to. I used to hate cheat days but I love my girlfriend and want to support her as much as she supports me.” Sakusa turns his face away at his confession. 
“Aww! Omi Omi! You’re really a big softie no matter how you usually act!” 
“Only for her.” He states, this doesn’t stop the coos Atsumu lets out. It in fact makes it worse.
“You’re such a simp Omi!”
“You’re just jealous I have a girlfriend and you don’t.”
Atsumu clutches his chest as he gasps in shock. “I’m hurt Omi! How could you say such a thing?” Sakusa stands up and rolls his eyes again, Miya really does give him a headache sometimes. 
“Get back to practice Miya.” 
“Whatever you say Omi Omi! Your girlfriend seems nice though, you should bring her to ‘Samu’s so she can properly meet everyone.” Even if Miya gives him headaches he’s glad his friend likes his girlfriend though. If he’s being honest he was scared you and Atsumu wouldn’t like each other. No matter what he says he does value his friend’s opinions even if he does forget to tell them important things.
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I have no self control so when I finish fics they immediately get posted lol. Next is an Ushi fic that I've been wanting to write for a little bit, it's going to be short and sweet. Feel free to check out some of my other works or even leave a request :)
taglist: @hiraethwa
rules masterlist
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monstersholygrail · 5 months ago
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New City, New Life
5k celebration ‘Choose your own adventure’ story
Minotaur x fem!reader—fingering, exhibitionism, rough sex, marking, light spanking, light throat squeezing
Pt1 Pt2
You were stuck blindly walking around your new office building. Not realizing when you made the decision to look for your Minotaur Boss that you have no idea where his office is. Plus, it didn’t help that you could barely stand on your own two feet or that your head was still a big foggy and clouded over with undeniable lust.
The promise of your hot Wolf Hybrid neighbor ringing in your ears. He’d take you next time. And boy, you couldn’t wait for the day. Maybe he’d bring his friends again. The idea of trying out all those different cocks that had cum all over your body only minutes ago has you only growing dizzier. Fuck, who are these people you’ve been meeting? No one usually acts like this, do they?
As you walk into an open office area, you grow more and more confused. So many doors. So many places your boss’ office could be. You whirl around to ask for help, but end up tripping over your own feet in the process. A small helpless yelp leaves you as you go tumbling.
But just as quickly as you were about to accept your face and make a total ass of yourself in front of your new coworkers, a pair of strapping arms curl around your plush waist, stopping you from falling. Those same arms pull you in, snapping your hips against theirs. A weak moan falls past your lips and you pathetically melt into the stranger.
You couldn’t help it as their delicious scent washes over you. Oh, you could just burrow into it. It’s then you realize your eyes had closed from the impending fall. They flutter open and immediately look up to greet your savior. You wanted to thank him, but fuck, his sheer beauty just blew you away. You had never seen a more gorgeous Bunny Hybrid in your life and you were briefly distracted in your quest for your boss.
“Hey beautiful, no need to throw yourself at me. Could’ve just taken me right here,” the Bunny Hybrid Secretary said smoothly, his lips pulled into a panty-dropping smirk.
“Huh?”
“I’m the Minotaur Boss’ secretary and he prefers it if I do all my work here. He likes to watch,” the Bunny Hybrid purrs. He tugs you around, pinning your back against his desk.
A small squeak leaves you and your mind immediately falls into the dirtiest depths. His words conjuring so many naughty images in your head that you’re positive he didn’t mean to allude to. Yet your vision blurs with lust anyway. There must be something in the air of this city, you swear you’re not always like this.
Then the rest of his words begin to register and you try to blink the fog from your mind.
“T-the boss, that’s it! Do you know where his office is? I need him— need to see him immediately,” you say desperately, hands flying to the secretary’s hips. His smirk widens at your touch and he leans more into you.
“Oh, so you like it hard and rough, huh? You must be really needy if you’re willing to see him. You only go in there if you’ve been really bad… or really good. But I can take care of you, baby. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Please, I really need his help,” you beg shamelessly. His eyes flash with interest and for a moment you think he’s about to ignore your request all together and keep you pressed against him.
But then his bottom lips juts out into a pout and he releases you. Even going so far as to dramatically turn his back to you and cross his arms. Acting as if all his interest is suddenly gone. Though a quick glance down reveals otherwise.
“Fine, you don’t want me? Then have him! He’s right over there and he’s inside. Good luck,” he huffs and points just across from where the desk sits.
You glance back once more at the Bunny Hybrid Secretary. The urge to go back and show him just how badly you do want him tugs at your chest. But no, this is your job. This is your place of work and today is supposed to be your first day. Definitely not the time. You didn’t think it was anyway.
What you really needed was to find the headhunter who got you hired and finally get to work. In his previous emails he had always mentioned needing to see how well you performed for him. Whatever that meant. But getting in touch with your new boss had to be the best way to find him.
Just as you’re about to knock on his office door you hear a gruff ‘get in here!’ The sound has you jumping in your bones. But your body starts to tingle at the demanding tone of his voice. You brace yourself while opening the door and you know you made the right choice as you walk in. You silently curse under your breath. Why the hell is everyone so damn hot in this city?
Your Minotaur Boss sits behind his desk, his features drawn down into a stern expression. His imposing form appearing almost big as the desk and it has your panties flooding with arousal. His tight suit hugs his raging muscles so deliciously. But what really catches your eye is the silver ring hanging from his snort. A perfect combination of man and beast and it has you weak in the knees.
“Hello, sir, I’m—“
“I know who you are. You’re the new hire,” Minotaur boss says, slowly standing up in a way that has you ready to get down on your knees.
He walks around his desk, beginning to lightly pace as if surveying his prey. His hot amber eyes searing into yours.
“Only your first day and already causing such a disruption in my office.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just been such a hectic morning,” you try and excuse, not recognizing the shakiness or huskiness of your own voice. But Minotaur Boss sure does. He turns to face you, growing impossibly taller as he closes in.
The furious heat, the need, rises up within you once again and a whimper slips past your lips. The tension within the office is stifling and you swear you’re about ten seconds from either jumping his bones or dashing out the door. Given you’re sure you can’t do either, you opt for glancing down at your feet. But Minotaur Boss hooks a hoofed finger under your chin and forces you to meet his gaze.
“And you don’t think we’ve all had the same morning you did? Yet we come here and appear professional and put together.”
While you don’t think everyone in the office has had quite the same morning as you, you get his point. Kind of. You try and pay attention to what he’s saying but all you can focus on is the fact that his face is so close that his small huffs of breath fan your face. His lips so very close to your own. You start to revise the idea of jumping his bones.
“Yes, sir,” you reply slowly, your speech a bit slurred as you feel drunk off his vicinity. His sheer dominating presence washing over you and begging you to submit.
Minotaur Boss smirks as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. It’s like he’s almost doing it on purpose. But no, that can’t be. He couldn’t want you as much as you find yourself desperately wanting him. You two just met. That would be too soon for anyone else.
“Now I think you need to learn your lesson about what happens to naughty little whores like you when they act up here,” Minotaur Boss snaps, his rough voice tickling your senses and turning you on more than imaginable.
Your eyes widen at him but before you can even respond he’s flipping you around and pressing you into the glass wall of his office. You gasp as you’re immediately met with a view of the entire office. You can see them as much as they can see you right now.
Minotaur Boss yanks down your clothes, exposing your wet pussy to the cold air. You shiver against the glass. White hot shame bubbles up in your belly as you look out into the office. Some of the workers watch on, others give passing glances, and even Bunny Hybrid Secretary mouths ‘I told you so.’ But none of them look surprised. Like this is a normal occurrence for them. For some reason that only has your thighs growing more slick with arousal.
You jump as your boss’ thick hoofed fingers glide through your pussy, spreading you wide and catching every little bit of slick that’s gathered. He chuckles darkly and removes fingers, only to moan a second later. The clear sounds of slurping reach your ears and you know he’s tasting you on his fingers. You wanna see that so badly yet you’re frozen against the glass, not wanting to move without his permission.
He hums happily at your obedience and his fingers quickly return to your soaked cunt, rubbing your clit in tight circles. You feel his frame hover over yours and you immediately melt into his embrace. His free hand holds your hip, giving you silent permission to use his strength and get absolutely weak for him. As you sink against him his fingers sink right into your tight heat. A long mewl leaves you at the stretch from his fingers alone. He doesn’t hesitate to start pumping his fingers inside you, curling them at just the right moment to get your hips jerking and meeting his thrusts. A soft rumble moves through your bosses chest.
“I can tell your pussy’s been used well here, so willing to let me in. This city’s been treating you good, hunny.”
You moan weakly, eyes squeezing shut. The way he so bluntly calls you out has you clenching around his fingers. He growls under his breath and picks up his pace, hand snapping into your sopping cunt with brute force. Fingers curling and scissoring you open wide for him. You cry out, body writhing against him. How this man knows your every weak point is beyond you. He hits every sweet spot along your gummy walls he can find and your orgasm builds quickly.
Looking out into the office again you see more people stopping their work to watch you. You can’t help but hide away into the warm chest of your Minotaur Boss. A carful of people was one thing but an entire office felt a bit more daunting. But the way your boss didn’t even seem to care turned you on more than you realized. You quickly find yourself on the edge. Feeling your pussy spasm against his fingers, your boss quickly slips his fingers out.
Before you can let out a single complaint, your boss is stuffing his slick covered fingers deep in your open mouth, silencing you. You let out a noise of surprise but listen to him and focus on cleaning his fingers of you instead of talking. His hand on your hip leaves and you hear the soft clanging of a belt unbuckle. Sparks shoot down your spine and straight to your throbbing core.
When Minotaur Boss pushes his thick cock head through your wet folds you’re already pushing back. A playful shriek leaves you as his tip nudges at your entrance. Your boss’ hands both move to rest on your hips and he teases you, pushing his tip in little by little. You instinctively clench around him, trying to suck him in. He clicks his tongue at you
“What a naughty pussy you got here, hun. Think I’m gonna have to teach it some fucking manners,” he says and slams his entire length inside of you in one solid stroke.
Your back arches unnaturally, jaw dropping in a silent scream. But you don’t even get a second to process the sensations coursing through you as his hips snap back, starting at a brutal pace. Your hands shoot out to brace yourself against the glass but your boss instantly snatches your hands and holds them behind your back. He smushes you against the glass, your body wetly smacking against it with each brush.
“Ooooh— nngh— god! Oh god! Fuck,” you wail, eyes rolling back into your head as he sends your body buzzing.
Minotaur Boss laughs wickedly and you moan again, loving how he uses you. Ready to open your mouth and release more obscenities, your boss shuts that down with a firm smack on your ass and you merely help in response. He smacks your ass again.
“Louder! I wanna fucking hear you, hunny! Gotta welcome everyone in the building with your sweet sweet moans,” he growls, picking up pace, his cock slamming inside you.
Every deep snap of his hips nudges against your cervix and has your eyes crossing. You weakly try and move back against his thrusts but he keeps you pinned against the glass wall of his office. Forcing you to show off every inch of what he’s doing to you to the whole room. And you don’t dare wait a moment before listening to his demands. Your moans echoing off the walls and grating against your ears till you’re sure the whole building can hear you. Every smack of his hand on your ass has you growing even louder.
“H-how can this be so bad but so good? The boss fucking a subordinate. The entire office watching and touching themselves. How does no one get in trouble?” You shout in ecstasy, your eyes flickering to your coworkers who’ve started touching themselves. Some even moving to fuck each other too. Your boss nuzzles into your neck, lapping up your sweat.
“One of the benefits of living in a free use city, baby,” your boss says with another taunting laugh that has your toes curling. But you have no clue what he’s talking about. It’s hard to focus with his cock hammering itself inside your sopping cunt.
“A what?”
“Free use city. Means I can take you whenever and wherever I want. And you can do the same to me or anyone,” Minotaur Boss growls his weak explanation. But it’s hard for him too with your pussy clenching and fluttering around his girth.
Even with the brief explanation your mind spins. Not understanding what the hell is going on. You moved into a free use city? How was that not on any of the brochures the headhunter had given you. He just sent you into this place completely blind.
“But I didn’t…”
Minotaur Boss catches your expression. One of his hands curl around your throat and tilts you back. Your spine arches with it and you moan weakly as your boss slides into your cunt at a new angle, his cock brushing along your sweet spot with each jerk of his hips.
“You saying you didn’t know?”
All you can you is faintly shake your head, your eyes lost in a haze of confusion and lust. Your cunt once again spasms around his girth and he knows you’re getting close again. His own expression shifts, eyes twinkling with mischief as his hand squeezes around your throat.
“Well what a treat for you, eh? Now prove to me how much you belong here and cum all nice and pretty on my cock.”
As if your body was waiting for his command, your belly tightens and the cord snaps as you start coming on his cock. Your juices spraying all over the glass wall as your body thrashes in his hold. Minotaur Boss, as always, maintains a solid grip on you. Fucking up into you through your orgasm until he follows soon after and cums deep inside you, shooting buckets of his hot semen in your belly.
Minotaur Boss works with an efficiency fit for a boss as he slips out of you and gets to work cleaning you up. All you can do is pant heavily against the glass, your mind still whirling from the revelation. Everything that had happened to you since yesterday suddenly making a lot more sense.
But none of the information you had about this place mentioned it being a free use city. Should you have done your own research? You guess so. But the truth about this place shouldn’t have been hidden either. This was all because of your headhunter… and you were finally gonna get answers. You struggle to push off the glass and turn to your boss, once again fully clothed.
“Where— where can I find the headhunter who hired me? I need… to see— to talk to him immediately,” you stammer over your words, still trying to pick yourself back up again.
Minotaur boss settles back in his desk chair, leaning back and looking more than satisfied. But amusement quickly joins in as it dances in his eyes. Clearly finding your situation hilarious. He points down the room and you follow the line of it to a door marked ‘Conference room D.’
“In the conference room but, uh, he might be a little busy at the moment…”
With your destination in sight strength pours back into you. Your legs stop shaking and you stand up a little bit taller. Maybe it’s all the anger flowing through you but you let it propel you forward. Readying to give your headhunter a piece of your mind. And maybe a piece of something else too…
2K notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 8 months ago
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Touching kny men's frogs by accident
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Pairings: Sanemi x fem!reader; Giyu x fem!reader; Rengoku x fem!reader; bonus: Tengen x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,7k
Warnings: Not smut but it's getting heated y'all, heavy inspiration from apothecary diaries hehehehe, enjoy babes
I didn't feel like writing for quite some time and would totally appreciate you showing some love and support 🤍
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Sanemi Shinazugawa
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“I can’t fucking stand you”, you hiss through gritted teeth, body feeling like exploding any given minute.
Out of all the people around you, why does it always have to be him you’re assigned with? Why not Giyu, why not Rengoku? No, it’s always the asshole himself, the devil in person.
“Join the club. I can’t stand you either, but at least I’m having fun with it”, he jeers back, the veins on his forehead almost popping.
If there’s one thing he hates more than anything else on this planet, it has to be you. Sanemi’s eyes glare you up and down as you walk in front of him, feet stomping onto the ground demonstratively while you make your way to the mansion you were assigned to.
No, that’s not true. If there’s one thing he hates more than anything else on this planet, it has to be that you hate him.
“Let’s just get this shitty mission over with”, you mumble under your breath.
Fuck, you’re almost able to feel his gaze burning through your back while it takes all your focus not to trip like an idiot. You hate to admit it, hate to even think about it, but somehow…
Why does the way he holds his sword have to be so damn attractive? Why does his voice force your heart to skip a beat, your knees to feel oh so weak? Why does it have to be him, the guy who hates you more than anyone else? You’re nothing but a fool for falling for him so hard. God, you really need to pull yourself together. Maybe telling yourself over and over that you hate him as well will finally force some sense back into your brain.
Will it? Or maybe, just maybe telling him about those things might help. Maybe you need to get this off your chest, maybe you need to feel him rejecting you to finally move on. You clench your hands into tight fists, heartbeat picking up in an instant. Yes, you just have to do this. There’s no way you’ll be able to act like that forever. And after that, after he rejected you like the asshole he is, you’ll definitely be able to hate him like you’re supposed to.
“Sanemi, I really have to-“
But just when your courage took over, you aren’t able to complete your sentence. A pair of razor-sharp teeth shoots just barely past your throat. An animal? A demon? You didn’t even realize that the sun is already fully set, didn’t even hear this lower-ranked demon coming. A dangerous mistake that right now, might cost your life.
“Watch out!”, Sanemi cries out behind you.
Images start to blur and overlap, you feel your body falling towards the cold hard ground. Are you dead, injured? Time seems to stand still, the only thing you’re able to do is pressing your eyes shut.
Until you land.
Softly.
“(y/n)…”
You clench your hands even harder, body not able to comprehend what just happened. You were on your way to the ground, without any doubt. How is it possible that you landed so softly? Did the demon eat you, eventually?
“Can you just…stop?”
“Sanemi?”
Immediately, your eyes dart towards the sound of his whiny voice.
Underneath you.
Sanemi Shinazugawa is lying under your very own body, trapped between your legs, kept in place by your hand.
Your hand…What is that soft feeling? A frog, maybe? You squeeze a little tighter. To be honest, you never really touched a frog-
“(y/n)!”, Sanemi cries your name in a way he’s never done before, his cheeks so bright red that it leaves worry lines all over your face.
“Did you catch a fever? No wonder considering that cold wind you’ve made earlier while training. I told you over and over that-“
“Your hand”, Sanemi presses out.
“Remove your fucking hand.”
Your hand? You shake your head in sheer confusion. What on earth does this have to do with your hand?
While one of your palms rests flat against the cool ground, the other still holds onto that squishy but somehow comforting thing. Your eyes wander down your own arm, searching for what might be a frog.
You swallow hard, hand snapping away in an instant.
God, you want to die. Right here on the spot. Without any last words.
Is this really, did you really touch him…there?
“It wasn’t a frog”, you mutter in sheer horror while lifting yourself off the boy underneath you.
“A frog!?”
“I…I thought this was a frog! Why didn’t you tell me earlier that I…that I touched you there!?”, you cry out in nothing but horror.
“Why the hell did you think it was a frog, idiot? I definitely don’t feel like a frog”, Sanemi gives back while grabbing your arm.
“And stop wiping your fucking hand like you just touched something dirty!”
“I…I need to go now”, you announce in a haste.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
You really touched Sanemi down there. Sanemi Shinazugawa, the boy you always hated. No, the boy you secretly love.
And that’s definitely worse.
“Stay right where you are, (y/n)…We…We still have this stupid mission going and I don’t wanna get scolded by Shinobu for scaring you away”, the white-haired man mumbles, the pressure he puts on your wrist now becoming more gentle.
“Right.”
Get yourself together. Acting like a dumb teenager doesn’t help the situation either. As if nothing happened, you straighten your shoulders and start walking towards the estate again.
An uneasy silence begins settling between both of you, Sanemi just strolling by your side without even looking your way. Fuck, this is so awkward and strange. What are you supposed to do? Not saying a word until the mission is over, talking about the weather?
“Thank you for saving me from that demon earlier”, you blurt out without thinking twice.
“I’m still not over the fact that you called me a frog��”, he mumbles while shaking his head.
“What else was I supposed to say? I really thought it was a frog!”, you try to defend yourself.
In the split of a second, you find yourself pinned against a nearby tree.
“A frog, huh? No problem, I’m gonna show you it’s anything but a frog”, he hisses though gritted teeth.
„S-show me what?“
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Giyu Tomioka
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„You need to listen to your surroundings. The only thing you’re fighting with are your eyes”, Giyu explains briefly while putting a blindfold over your eyes.
Word of protest get stuck in your throat. No, it took you way too long to convince the water hashira to train you. To be exact, a couple of letters from Sakonji and you begging on your knees. You’ll definitely won’t risk him turning his back on you again over something as stupid as a blindfold.
“You need to focus on your other senses as well.”
Like the sound of his calm voice that makes your heart skip a beat? Or the faint smell of grapes that sticks to his clothes and tingles your nose?
“I said focus”, he warns you.
You blink into the darkness and straighten your shoulders. He’s right. You’re here to get trained by the water hashira and not to pine after him. You have to prove yourself. You have to show him you’re worthy of his time.
“Go.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice. With a swift motion you dart forwards, follow the sound of his steps. You furrow your eyebrows while desperately trying to focus on the ever so slightly crush of branches underneath his feet, your bare skin eager to feel the tiniest brush of wind.
But before you’re even able to detect him, you feel his hand roughly slapping the back of your head.
“You’re not trying good enough”, he comments calmly.
That’s it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. You turn around as fast as possible, your arm on its way to hit him.
Now you have Giyu, now you’re finally able to strike back.
Your hands hold onto something when he forces you around swiftly.
And then you hit the ground.
“What the hell was that?”, you bark while yanking away that stupid blindfold.
But when your eyes meet his, your breath gets stuck in your throat.
“Giyu? Are you…alright?”
His cheeks are bright red, a thin coat of sweat covering his forehead while he stares at you with widened eyes. What is going on? Is there something behind both of you?
“(y/n)…”
He breathes out your name like a prayer, a minor whimper escapes his oh so beautiful lips.
“Hey, your worrying me. What’s going on?”, you question, eyes scanning him up and down.
Until your gaze wanders to your very own hand.
That rest just where his private parts are.
“Oh!”
Immediately, you stumble backwards while wiping your hand against your uniform like the idiot you are. How the hell did you not realize that you were touching him there?
“I-I…I’m so s-sorry! It wasn’t on purpose!”, you cry out immediately.
You’re screwed. What if Giyu thinks you’re a disgusting freak, a pervert? You never touched a man like that in your entire life, never knew what it would feel like. But…you never imagined it to feel this big. No wonder though, Giyu definitely seems like the kind of guy who keeps his secrets to himself.
“(y/n), can you…stop staring at me like that?”, he mumbles.
Your dirty eyes widen when you start to notice that you were still staring at his pants.
“I’m so sorry!”
“I think I need to go for a few minutes”, he announces awkwardly while getting up.
“What? Please don’t leave, I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself! I will be more careful, I will make sure something like this n-“
“(y/n), please just stop talking. I need to calm down. Now excuse me.”
“But Giyu, please don’t leave me hanging! I don’t want us to stop training, there’s still so much you need to teach me-“
“I need a couple of minutes to…take care of something.”
“To take care of something?”, you repeat visibly confused.
What on earth does he have to take care of now? His very own hand wanders to his pants, adjusting what looks like a visible bump.
A bump.
You swallow hard.
“Oh.”
Instinctively, you turn around, your cheeks now bright red.
“O-okay. Got it. Sorry”, you mutter.
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Kyojuro Rengoku
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“(y/n), stay by my side!”, Kyojuro instructs you while dashing down the dark forest.
Your heart pumps rapidly, mouth already tasting like iron. To be honest, you are exhausted. Exhausted of running, exhausted of fighting, exhausted of this cruel night. What time is it? When will the sun finally rise again? The only thing that keeps you going is him. The man who runs in front of you and shields you from demon attacks as often as possible.
Him, Kyojuro Rengoku.
“I can’t do this anymore”, you mutter when your sight already starts to get foggy.
Kyojuro turns around, eyes springing back and forth between you and the army of demon who dash behind both of you.
What now? He can’t watch out for you while killing off all those demons. No, he’s forced to wait until help arrives. Otherwise, you might get hurt. Or even worse…
He shakes his head ever so slightly, eyes focusing on what’s in front of him. Kyojuro was never the type to hide like a coward, but right now, this might be your only chance.
“Follow me.”
Gently, he grabs your hand and drags you behind him, dashing towards what looks like a small cottage at neck-breaking speed.
“Kyojuro, what are you doing?”, you question in sheer confusion.
He managed to leave all those demons behind, now running straight towards the cottage in front of them. What is his plan?
“We will hide until help arrives”, he explains briefly.
With a swift motion, he opens and closes the door behind your trembling figure, eyes darting around the room without a real aim.
Until they land on a closet.
“Hiding? But-“
“I’m sure Uzui will arrive within the next few minutes. But with you injured like this and countless demons chasing after us, I’m not able to defeat them by myself while still making sure you’re fine”, he explains briefly while gently shoving you into the closet.
Your breath gets stuck in your throat when he pushes himself inside next to you and closes the door, so close that you’re able to feel his breath tickling against your cheek.
“Thank you for thinking about me”, you breathe into the suddenly so private space.
“I always will, (y/n).”
A warm feeling spreads in your stomach as well as your now pounding heart. It’s hard not to fall for a perfect man like him. Him who engulfs you with the sheer heat of his body. Him, who has never been this close to you before. Him, the man you love since the first time you saw him.
Your feelings threaten to overpower you just like your dizziness. In the search for hold, you adjust your body in the tiny space, hands searching for support.
A minor whine fills the otherwise quiet place, coming straight from Kyojuro’s lips.
“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself as well?”, you question, now pulled out of your trance.
You didn’t even have the time to think about Kyojuro with all those demons chasing after you. What if he got injured? How careless of you to not check on him sooner.
“No, it’s just…You’re squeezing my pelvic area”, he presses out.
“W-what?”, you shriek, instantly removing your hand.
“I-I’m sorry, I thought I was holding onto a knob!”, you try to explain in an instant.
“(y/n), you are killing me”, he suddenly mutters with unusual low voice.
“I do…what?”
In the matter of seconds, you find yourself trapped between his strong arms, the heat radiating from his body threatening to burn you alive while your glossy eyes stare at him through the darkness.
“I had my eyes on you for quite some time now. If I’m being honest, I developed feeling for you a long time ago.”
Feelings? Kyojuro Rengoku developed feelings? For you? You have to be dreaming, hallucinating due to blood loss. But the pressure of his hands against your back is real just like his breath that caresses your face gently.
“Kyojuro, I-“
You aren’t able to finish your sentence. The split of a second is all it takes for the doors of the closet to swing open.
“Now, look what we have here. Two lovebirds cramped into a tiny space with (y/n)’s hand…Oh, I might have interrupted something here”, Tengen jeers at both of you with a dirty smile plastered onto his face.
“Get away from here right now!”, you cry out along with slapping his shoulder roughly.
“Embarrassed because I caught you?”
“You didn’t catch us! This was…an accident.”
“And accident?”
“An accident”, Koyjuo confirms.
“You can’t fool me, lovebirds. But for now, let’s focus on those demons”, Tengen comments dryly while drawing his swords.
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Bonus: Uzui Tengen
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“You need to help me”, your beloved husband presses out through gritted teeth, his face twisted in pain.
“Yeah, sure I’ll do anything!”
You have to blink a few times against the wave of panic that threatens to take you over, Uzui’s blood sticking to your hands uncomfortably. You need to get yourself together, need to focus on helping your husband after this rough mission.
“Press your hand against my leg and stop the bleeding”, he chokes, his head now resting against the rough ground.
“Okay, I can totally do that!”, you mutter.
There’s no time to waste. As fast as possible, you press your trembling palm against the warmth of his body, your eyes scanning his face for any reaction when a sudden whimper escapes his lips.
“(y/n)…I always love when you touch me there, but right now, I need you to press your hand against my leg.”
“Oh!”
Immediately, you remove your hand from his groin and press it onto the gaping wound on his leg.
“I guess that was habit.”
"Well, now I'm horny and injured...", Tengen mumbles under his breath.
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Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like what I came up with <3
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
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@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt @sanemifucker @blunderland
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wonderjanga · 5 months ago
Text
Marvel and the Street Kids
Billy likes helping people. Especially people who have, and are still going through something he’s also experienced. Hunger, brokeness, homelessness, if you’ve had to go through any of those things, Billy’s probably going to favor you more than most of the other people he’s saved. I mean, after all, he knows what all of that feels like. It’s why he helps out around soup kitchens a lot. It’s why he donates a hefty bit of his paycheck to homeless shelters and charities. It’s why he works to keep drugs off the streets, and crime at a low. He doesn’t want anyone, man, woman, or child to experience what he has. So, here’s a couple instances where he’s helping some homeless kids we know. (Btw this is the same AU as the Billy and the Robins post. In that post, basically Billy knew Dick and Jason when the two were both Robins) Roy: *in Speedy costume* “Hey Robin, who do you go to whenever you need advice?”
Robin!Jason: *in Robin costume* “Batman, why?”
Roy: “Right, cool. Cool, but what if you can’t ask him a certain question?”
Robin!Jason: “Oh, then I go to Marvel!”
Roy: “Marvel? Like Captain Marvel?”
Robin!Jason: “Yeah!”
Roy: “Huh. Uh… okay then.”
Robin!Jason: “Why do you ask?”
Roy: “No reason.”
Then, a little bit after Oliver kicked Roy out, Marvel was in Star City because Green Arrow needed him for whatever. As of now, Roy was walking down the street, upset because obviously. It’s been an about three days since he was kicked out by someone he considered his dad. All because he had a wee little problem with painkillers, and wee little problem with heroin. You’re supposed to help people who’re addicted. Especially if they’re family. You don’t just kick them out… right?
Roy: *walking down the sidewalk*
Marvel: *flying when he sees him*
Roy: *not paying attention*
Marvel: *flies down in front of him*
Roy: *bumps into Marvel* “Hey, watch where you’re goooo…wha…?” *slowly looks up until he’s craning his neck to look up at him*
Marvel: “Aren’t you GA’s boy?” *looks confused* “What’re you doing out this late?”
Roy: “What?”
Marvel: “Yeah! You’re uh…” *snaps fingers a couple times, thinking* “Speedy. Right?”
Roy: “Do I know you…?” *looks Marvel up in down*
Marvel: “Oh, my bad.” *holds hand out for handshake* “I’m Captain Marvel. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”
Roy: *doesn’t shake hand* “Well you already know me. I’m Speedy.” *shrugs*
They both talk. Marvel gets Roy to open up a bit after he gets the kid a hotdog. While they’re both sitting on a bench eating their respective hotdogs, (I saw the Marvel in civvies post and he’s wearing that exact fit. He magicked up the red sweater, the yellow hat, and the jeans so they could eat in peace) the archer remembers his conversation with Jason. So, he decides he might as well bite the bullet since his friend hyped up the guy so much.
Roy: “Hey… I gotta ask something.”
Marvel: “Hm?” *mid chew*
Roy: “You wouldn’t happen to know any good struggle meals, would you?”
Marvel: *finishes hotdog* “Yeah? I do. You wanna learn some?”
Roy: *hasn’t told Marvel about him being homeless now* “Yeah.” *takes bite of his hotdog*
Marvel: “Okie doki then.”
Roy: “You aren’t gonna ask why?”
Marvel: “It’s not really my place. Unless you want me to ask?”
Roy: “Nah, not really.” *finishes his hotdog*
Marvel: “Then I won’t.” *stands up* “Alright! To the nearest Chuck E. Cheese!” *points in a random direction*
Roy: *also stands up, raising a brow at him. Moves Marvel’s arm in the correct direction* “Why are we going to a Chuck E. Cheese?”
Marvel: “You’ll see. Cmon!” *starts jogging in the direction Roy corrected him to*
Roy: “Dude, wait up!”
When they’re now outside the Chuck E. Cheese…
Marvel: “Alright. So, here’s what you’re gon— Are you good?”
Roy: *out of breath because they just ran about three blocks* “Yeah… Yeah. I’m good. Just uh— gimme a sec.”
Marvel: *gives him until he feels better*
Roy: *looking better now* “So, what were you saying?”
Marvel: “Right, so what you’re gonna be doing is, see those tables?” *gestures to the booths through the Chuck E. Cheese’s windows. Some booths have leftover pizza and chicken wings in them*
Roy: *nods head*
Marvel: “Okay, great. So you’re gonna go steal all of that.”
Roy: *blinks at him before the most befuddled, bamboozled, puzzled expression crosses his face* “What?”
Marvel: “You’re going. To steal. All of that.” *gestures to the tables again*
Roy: *looks between Marvel and the tables* “Dude, I am not stealing scraps from the fucking Chuck E. Cheese tables.”
Marvel: “How else do you expect to get food then?”
Roy: “I don’t know! I expected you to teach me some cheap recipes or something stupid like that!”
Marvel: “Oooooooh, so you don't want struggle meals then.”
Roy: “No, I do. A struggle meal is something like a ketchup sandwich. This is way worse than a goddamn struggle meal.”
Marvel: “You and I clearly have different definitions of a struggle meal, but okay. Also, chill with the cursing, man. I can teach you something cheap if that’s what you actually want.”
Roy: “Okay then, thank you, because the day I need to steal scraps from a Chuck E. Cheese, is the day I lose my dignity.”
Marvel: “Yeah, yeah, come on. Let’s just go to a grocery store.”
Then, there was Cassandra Cain. She was homeless for about nine years before she went to Gotham when she was seventeen. During her homelessness, she never really stayed in one place. One of the places she ended up in was Fawcett when she was about sixteen. There, she met Captain Marvel. She man saved her from a mugging she was about to take care of herself.
Marvel: *staring at her because Solomon’s whispering about how she’s worthy*
Cassandra: *staring right back, picking up confusion in the man’s body language*
Marvel: “What’s your name, miss?”
Cassandra: *stares blankly at him* (Guys, this is before she learned most stuff. So she has no idea what he’s saying and has to go off of body language alone.)
Marvel: *stares back* “Can… You not speak?”
Cassandra: *continues to stare blankly*
Marvel: *sighs* “I’ll take that as a no.” *reaches into pocket dimension*
Cassandra: *startled when she sees half the man’s arm disappear*
Marvel: *pulls out some money and puts it in one of her hands* “Please take this. I can tell you don’t have a home. Starving isn’t fun.”
Cassandra: *sees understanding in Marvel’s body language and looks at the money in her hand then back at Marvel*
Marvel: *hovering off the ground* “Stay safe, miss.” *gives her a little wave before flying off*
Cassandra: *watches him go*
They meet more times after that, and soon, Cassandra ends up being one of the many homeless kids he checks up on. Cassandra comes to enjoy the man’s presence, and Marvel comes to enjoy hers as well. She eventually gets a really good read on the man after a while and he gets a good read on her. She even mimicked the man’s bodily expressions sometimes with a nod here, or a shrug there. Marvel even got to learn her name after she gestured to one of the other kids who had a cast on their leg. He guessed a couple times before he got her actual name. They ended up having to charade it, Beetlejuice style.
Marvel: “Cassie?”
Cassandra: *makes a so-so motion with her hand* (something she picked up from the man) *makes a motion that was supposed to convey it was longer*
Marvel: “Longer…?” *pauses to think for a solid 20 seconds* “Cassandra?”
Cassandra: *gives him a thumbs up* (another gesture learned from him)
Marvel: “Wait that’s actually your name?” *body language shows he’s happy he got it right*
Cassandra: *blankly stares* (Again guys, she has no clue what he’s saying)
Marvel: “Oh, this is awesome!” *body language shows he gets happier. He starts yapping about stuff*
Cassandra: *listens even though it’s all gibberish to her*
Cass liked that she could depend on someone. The man was… sunny. That’s the best way to put it. She liked listening to him talk. He never expected an answer or response. She liked that. She also liked that when she did try to respond, he was patient and did his best to try and understand her. Their friendship (sort of father daughter thing) continued until she was almost seventeen, and soon, things came to an end.
Marvel: “You’re leaving?” *body language shows concern*
Cassandra: *saw him look to the backpack stuffed with things for the trip to the next town. she nods her head*
Marvel: *body language shows disappointment for a moment before acceptance* “I see.” *gives her a warm smile* “It was nice knowing you, Cassandra.” *gives her same little wave he gave her when they first met* “I hope we get to meet again.”
Cassandra: *waves back unlike the first time they met and leaves*
They actually met again, unbeknownst to Marvel, when he was in Gotham to help Bruce with something. They got paired up together to go and do something for the mission.
Marvel: “You know, you remind me of this girl I knew from a while ago.”
Cassandra: *silence and a stare because she knows he’s talking about herself*
Marvel: “Yeah, she would’ve done that same blank stare too.”
Cassandra: *wondering how he knows she’s pulling the same face as herself*
Some goons decided to interrupt them before she could figure that out.
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potteraep · 7 months ago
Note
I don’t know if this has been asked before but!! Kinich x reader (any gender) trying to have a peaceful romantic moment and Ajaw just goes in between them every time (to annoy Kinich maybe,,)
THROW IT AWAY ⁀➷ KINICH
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⁀➷-this is SOO.. I love ajaw he’s lowk real. more then one scenario cuz I lowk felt generous…
⁀➷- kinich x gn!reader
⁀➷- ajaw being a bother, lowk suggestive in some parts, a DROP of angst like only a bit of dialogue
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷- having moments of silence together was rare.
for many reasons of course. The pilgrimage being in place, kinichs duties and yours. They all had their own part in the seemingly impossible possibility of you and kinich having such little time together. It made sense right? They all added up but they were small inconveniences.
compared to the stupid dragon.
He was terrible. Sticking his nose where it shouldn’t be, you and kinich looking at Each other for a bit to long? He’s quick to stand in between and shake his tail in kinichs face with a obnoxious laugh
it was worse even when he shouldn’t of been there when ajaw was supposed to be locked away for you and kinich to have privacy he would float in mid-
look the point is that he was a nuisance.
at least to kinich, he’d roll his eyes while you held ajaw in your arms with fake tears defending “ the poor creature” saying his servant should respect him as ajaw dramatically fake sobbed in your arms while you tried to stifle a laugh at kinichs angry frown
still even you had to admit sometimes the little dragon should learn to walk away or float? He’d ruined moments even making you sigh and rub your head at his antics.
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—Natlan being the nation of dragons seemed scary to most out side of its borders finding the title odd and making most wary. In reality most of those “ dragons” were creatures who had an infatuation with the people of the nation.
this wasn’t all the nation had of course, a strong archon and a sovereign of legend, alas it was quite safe for experienced travelers to just.. linger around as you had done before when you weren’t busy it was nice. The suarians were nice company but you’d wager that kinich was better.
You strolled side by side kinich looking towards the mountains as you sighed having the wind brush past you. Kinich was silent looking around a bit before looking at you his pupils looking over your features and resting on your lips as I turned to him
“ what are you looking at?” You asked with a confused look “ I’m looking at you..” he replied quietly his gaze from your jaw to lips and your eyes his lips curling up slightly as he watched your cheeks tint pink and look so fond of him he continued looking at you his eyes searching yours, looking for something anything to tell him to back up. To walk away and do something else or a rejection. He found nothing but love in your eyes making him breathe thru his nose quitely
he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against yours as he sighed out a bit not saying anything as he held your waist, the soft fabric of his bandana brushing against your forehead as you smiled leaning your lips in a bit agape as he waited patiently
Of course that kiss never came, instead a loud laugh did making kinich sigh as he opened his eyes and leaned back still holding your waist
“Really.? “ Kinich said grumbling slightly as he averted his gaze to the little dragon
“ your a sap kinich! Ha I never thought I’d live to see the day wait till I-“ ajaw got his sentence cut off as kinich flicked him away with his hand before turning back to you
“ sorry.. where were we?” He breathed out as you rolled your eyes and smiled making him grimace a bit at the dragons stupid antics
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—Kinich had finished his work which consisted of many things and you had finished your duties centered around the tribes issues and requests
this was rare both of you being done at the same time, sure kinichs work was rough and it definitely took time but you? You worked more then 75% of the day if he wasn’t worried about your lack of sleep he’d be a idiot, even if he tried to hide his worry with little gestures it didn’t work.
-Kinich dragged himself thru the door of your shared home sighing and rubbing his head, his Bandana shifting at the slight touch. He didn’t really expect you to be home, and when you were you confined yourself to work saying it would be done soon( it never was). When he checked on you again, your eyes were drooping and your shaky hand signed papers as he sighed closing the door behind him
“ when will you rest?the canopy will be fine without you..for a night” he said dully trying to hide the worry in his eyes tho, thru the reflect of the window in front of your desk gave away his eyes softening and trailing over your tired features
“ when my works over” you replied mindlessly reading over papers and writing reports and quick signatures as he let out a sigh stepping closer to you right behind your chair as he gripped your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze of recognition
“ those piles are endless my love, don’t keep this us.. please” he said furrowing his brows a bit as you sighed reaching one hand to graze his finger tips
“ kinich.. I can’t not now..” you said trying to fake a smile which he gritted his teeth at before sighing
”hm.. well then, don’t let me be a bother..” he said with a turned gaze to the reflection as he leaned down and gently kissed your neck moving a piece of your hair with two fingers as you tilted your head into your hand, he brought his hand on your shoulder to securely hold your waist. He never once broke eye contact thru the reflection one hand on your waist and the other trialing your hips
He brought his mouth to the back of your neck sweetly kissing you making a soft heart with his fingers in your hips smirking a bit as he saw you smile thru the glass
he opened his mouth to speak, maybe to say how much he loved or desired you but his voice wasn’t what boomed thru the air
“ kinichh! Where have you gone! Don’t you dare lie or i swear-“ he stopped his words as kinich glared at him thru the reflection as he busted thru the door. Ajaw sighed dramatically seeing you seated and kinich leaning behind you
“ what now! Why are you sooo mad your incelent bafoon!” He screatched as he turned bright red flaking his arms around while you rubbed your forehead to tired to hear all this, kinich looked at you with a sigh as he kissed your head before turning and walking to ajaw glaring at him as ajaw rolled his eyes before yelping as kinich gripped his tail dragging the creature with him
“ what are you-!”
“ shut the hell up “
You smiled to yourself as you heard the door shut and ajaw protest as kinich sighed knowing this would lead to more bickering from the orange dragon.
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@- likes and reblogs appreciated hope you enjoyed ! :>
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pucksandpower · 6 months ago
Text
Paddock Princess
Formula 1 (literally half the grid) x Vettel!Reader
Summary: when the drivers find out that you’re planning to have a baby all by yourself, they offer to help out by playing sperm roulette … the results are surprisingly wholesome
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The buzz of excitement fills the air as the paddock comes to life on a sunny morning. Drivers, team personnel, and media representatives mill about, but there’s a palpable sense of anticipation among a particular group of racers gathered near the Ferrari motorhome.
Max leans against the sleek red structure, his eyes darting around nervously. “Has anyone seen her yet?” He asks, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
Charles shakes his head, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Not yet. But she should be here soon, right?”
“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” Lando chimes in, bouncing on his toes. “It’s like something out of a movie.”
Carlos nods in agreement, a grin spreading across his face. “A very strange movie, but I’m here for it.”
George glances at his watch, his brow furrowed. “She’s usually here by now. You don’t think she’s having second thoughts, do you?”
“No way,” Oscar says confidently. ��You know her. Once she sets her mind to something, that’s it.”
Lewis, standing slightly apart from the younger drivers, offers a reassuring smile. “Oscar’s right. She’s one of the most determined people I know. If this is what she wants, she’ll see it through.”
Logan, the newest addition to the group, shifts nervously. “I still can’t believe you guys talked me into this. My mom would freak if she knew.”
Alex pats him on the shoulder. “Relax, mate. It’s all anonymous, remember? Besides, think of how happy she’ll be.”
Fernando, leaning against a nearby barrier, nods sagely. “Exactly. We’re doing this for her, because she deserves it.”
Lance, who’s been quiet until now, suddenly straightens up. “Heads up, guys. I think I see her coming.”
The group falls silent as you approach, your press pass swinging from your neck and a warm smile on your face. “Morning, boys,” you greet them cheerfully. “Why do you all look like you’re up to something?”
Max clears his throat, trying to sound casual. “Us? Never. Just, uh, enjoying the nice weather.”
You raise an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. And I suppose you’re all gathered here by pure coincidence?”
Charles steps forward, his charm on full display. “Can’t we just be happy to see our favorite reporter?”
You laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Alright, alright. I’ll play along. But seriously, what’s going on? You’re all acting weird.”
The drivers exchange glances, silently debating who should speak first. Finally, Lewis takes the lead.
“We heard about your decision,” he says gently. “About wanting to have a baby.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t realize ... I mean, I only told a couple of people.”
Lando grins sheepishly. “Word travels fast in the paddock. Especially when it’s about you.”
You look around at the group, a mix of emotions playing across your face. “Okay, so you know. But that doesn’t explain why you’re all acting like you’re planning a heist.”
Carlos steps forward, his expression earnest. “We want to help.”
You blink, confusion evident in your eyes. “Help? How?”
George takes a deep breath before plunging in. “We’ve all agreed to donate sperm. To give you options, you know?”
Your jaw drops, and for a moment, you’re speechless. “You ... what?”
Oscar jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “We know you said you were thinking about using a sperm bank, but we thought, well, why not use someone you actually know?”
“And trust,” Alex adds quickly.
You look around at the group, your expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something that might be amusement. “Let me get this straight. All of you,” you gesture at the assembled drivers, “want to donate sperm so I can have a baby?”
They nod in unison, and you can’t help but laugh. “This is ... I don’t even know what to say. It’s incredibly sweet, but also completely insane.”
Fernando steps forward, his expression serious. “We know it’s unconventional. But you’re important to all of us. We want to support you in any way we can.”
You shake your head, still trying to process the situation. “I appreciate that, truly. But guys, this is a huge decision. It’s not just about me having a baby. One of you would be a father.”
Max nods, his face set in determination. “We’ve thought about that. A lot, actually.”
“And we’re okay with it,” Lando adds. “Whatever level of involvement you want, we’ll respect that.”
You look at them, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Wait a minute. How exactly would this work? I can’t exactly pick one of you. That would be ...”
“Awkward,” Lance finishes for you. “We know. That’s why we came up with a plan.”
Logan, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “We’d all donate, and then the clinic would mix the samples together.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. “So it would be like ... artificial insemination roulette?”
Carlos grins. “Exactly! That way, no one knows who the father is. It could be any of us.”
You shake your head, a disbelieving laugh escaping you. “This is absolutely crazy. You know that, right?”
Lewis steps closer, his expression gentle. “Maybe. But we all care about you. We want you to be happy, and we know how much you want this.”
You look around at the group, taking in their earnest expressions. “I don’t know what to say. This is ... a lot to process.”
George nods understandingly. “Of course it is. We don’t expect you to decide right now. Just ... think about it, okay?”
You nod slowly, still looking a bit dazed. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But guys, this is a huge thing you’re offering. Are you sure you’ve really thought it through?”
Alex speaks up, his voice calm and reassuring. “We have. We’ve talked about it a lot, actually. We know it’s not a decision to make lightly.”
“But we’re all in agreement,” Oscar adds. “If this is what you want, we want to help make it happen.”
You take a deep breath, looking around at the group. “I need some time to think about this. It’s ... a lot to take in.”
Max nods, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently. “Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere.”
As you turn to walk away, still looking a bit shell-shocked, the drivers watch you go with a mix of hope and anxiety.
“Do you think she’ll go for it?” Lando asks, nervously fidgeting with his sleeve.
Charles shrugs, his eyes still following your retreating figure. “I don’t know. It’s a big decision.”
“We’ve done our part,” Fernando says sagely. “Now it’s up to her.”
The group falls into a contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the potential consequences of their offer.
Several days pass, and the paddock is abuzz with speculation. The drivers have managed to keep their offer under wraps, but your contemplative mood hasn’t gone unnoticed.
You find yourself cornered by the group once again, this time in a quiet corner of the paddock after qualifying.
“So,” Max says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Have you, uh, given any thought to our offer?”
You look around at the expectant faces surrounding you and take a deep breath. “I have, actually. I’ve thought about little else, to be honest.”
The tension in the air is palpable as they wait for your decision.
“I’m still not sure this is the right thing to do,” you begin, and you can see their faces fall. “But ... I can’t deny that the idea has a certain appeal.”
Hope blossoms in their expressions, and you can’t help but smile at their eagerness.
“Before I say yes,” you continue, holding up a hand to stave off their excitement, “I need to know that you’ve all really thought this through. This isn’t just about me having a baby. One of you will be a father, even if we don’t know which one.”
Lewis nods solemnly. “We understand. We’ve talked about it a lot, believe me.”
“And you’re all okay with the possibility of having a child out there that you might never know is yours?” You press.
They exchange glances before nodding in unison.
“We know it’s not a conventional situation,” Charles says. “But we’re all willing to accept whatever comes of this.”
You look at each of them in turn, searching their faces for any sign of doubt. Finding none, you take a deep breath.
“Okay,” you say finally. “If you’re all sure about this ... then yes. I’d be honored to accept your offer.”
The reaction is immediate and overwhelming. Cheers erupt from the group, and before you know it, you’re engulfed in a group hug.
“This is going to be amazing,” Lando exclaims, his face lit up with excitement.
“You’re going to be an incredible mother,” Alex adds, his smile warm and sincere.
As the excitement dies down, practical considerations start to surface.
“So, how do we do this?” Oscar asks. “Do we all just show up at the clinic or ...”
You can’t help but laugh at the mental image. “I think it might be best if we handle this discreetly. I’ll talk to the clinic and set everything up. They can give you instructions on how to make your ... contributions.”
George nods, looking relieved. “That sounds like a good plan. We don’t want this getting out to the media.”
“Agreed,” you say firmly. “This stays between us. No one else needs to know the details.”
The group nods in agreement, and you feel a wave of affection for these men who are willing to go to such lengths for you.
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” you say, shaking your head in wonder.
Fernando smiles, his eyes twinkling. “Believe it. In a few months, you could be on your way to motherhood.”
The reality of the situation starts to sink in, and you feel a mix of excitement and nerves. “This is going to change everything, isn’t it?”
“Change can be good,” Carlos says, giving you a reassuring smile. “And you won’t be alone. We’ll all be here to support you.”
You look around at the group, feeling overwhelmed by their support and affection. “Thank you. All of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this.”
Max grins, lightening the mood. “Well, naming the kid after me would be a good start.”
The group erupts in laughter, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Nice try, Verstappen. But I think we’ll be steering clear of any names that might give away paternity.”
As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the group. The magnitude of what you’ve all agreed to hangs in the air, but it’s accompanied by a sense of excitement and possibility.
“So,” Lance says, breaking the silence. “I guess the next step is to set up appointments at the clinic?”
You nod, feeling a flutter of nervous excitement in your stomach. “Yeah, I’ll get that sorted out and let you all know the details.”
“And then ...” Logan trails off, looking a bit overwhelmed.
“And then we wait,” Lewis finishes for him. “And hope for the best.”
You look around at the group of men surrounding you, each one ready to potentially become a father for your sake. It’s an unconventional situation, to say the least, but as you take in their supportive smiles and excited eyes, you can’t help but feel that you’re embarking on something truly special.
“Well, boys,” you say, a smile spreading across your face. “I guess we’re really doing this. Let Operation Make A Baby commence.”
***
The hospital waiting room crackles with nervous energy as eleven Formula 1 drivers pace, fidget, and attempt to distract themselves. The air is thick with anticipation, and every time the door opens, heads snap up in unison, hoping for news.
Max runs a hand through his hair for the hundredth time. “How long has it been now?” He asks, his voice tight with tension.
George checks his watch. “About six hours since we got here. But labor can take a while, especially for first-time mothers.”
“I still can’t believe this is really happening,” Lando says, his leg bouncing incessantly. “One of us is about to become a father.”
Charles nods, his eyes fixed on the door. “It’s surreal. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out this was all a dream.”
“Not a dream, mate,” Alex says, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Very much real.”
The door swings open, and a nurse steps out. The drivers collectively hold their breath, but she merely smiles apologetically and heads down the hallway.
Carlos groans. “This waiting is killing me. How are we supposed to just sit here?”
“We could place bets on who the father is,” Logan suggests with a nervous laugh.
Lewis shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We agreed we wouldn’t try to figure it out, remember?”
“Lewis is right,” Fernando says sagely. “What matters is that the baby and the mother are healthy.”
Oscar nods in agreement. “Exactly. We’re all in this together, regardless of biology.”
Lance, who’s been quietly observing until now, speaks up. “Do you think she’s scared? I mean, we’re all nervous wrecks out here, and we’re not the ones giving birth.”
The group falls silent, contemplating Lance’s words. It’s a sobering thought, reminding them of the magnitude of what’s happening just beyond those doors.
“She’s strong,” Max says finally, his voice filled with admiration. “Stronger than all of us put together. She’ll be fine.”
As if on cue, the door swings open again, and this time, a doctor steps out. The drivers scramble to their feet, forming a semicircle around her.
“Gentlemen,” the doctor says, a smile playing at her lips. “I’m happy to inform you that both mother and baby are doing well. It’s a healthy baby girl.”
A collective cheer erupts from the group, followed by a flurry of hugs and backslaps. The tension that’s been building for hours finally breaks, replaced by jubilant relief.
“When can we see them?” Charles asks eagerly.
The doctor holds up a hand. “The mother is resting now, but she’s asked to see you all in about an hour. She wants you to meet the baby together.”
As the doctor leaves, the drivers look at each other, a mix of excitement and nerves on their faces.
“A girl,” Lando says, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “We have a daughter.”
“She has a daughter,” Lewis gently corrects. “We’re ... well, I’m not sure what we are exactly.”
“We’re family,” Fernando says firmly. “All of us and the little one.”
The next hour passes in a blur of excited chatter and speculation. Finally, a nurse appears to escort them to the private room where you and the baby are waiting.
As they file into the room, the sight that greets them renders them momentarily speechless. You’re propped up in the bed, looking tired but radiant, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.
You look up as they enter, a soft smile on your face. “Hey, guys. Come meet your daughter.”
The drivers approach cautiously, as if afraid they might break the spell. You adjust the blanket, revealing a tiny face with rosebud lips and a button nose.
“She’s beautiful,” Max breathes, his eyes wide with wonder.
“She’s perfect,” Charles adds, his voice choked with emotion.
You beam at them, your eyes shining. “Want to hold her?”
After a moment of hesitation, Lewis steps forward. With practiced ease, he gently takes the baby from you, cradling her carefully in his arms.
“Hello, little one,” he coos softly. “Welcome to the world.”
The other drivers crowd around, each wanting a closer look. As Lewis passes the baby to Carlos, the scrutiny intensifies.
“Is it just me, or does she have Max’s nose?” Lando asks, peering closely at the tiny face.
Max leans in, his brow furrowed. “I don’t see it. But those ears ... they look like yours, Lando.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Boys, she’s about one hour old. I think it’s a bit early to be playing guess the father, don’t you?”
The drivers have the grace to look sheepish, but their curiosity is far from satisfied.
As the baby is passed from driver to driver, the observations continue.
“She has a strong grip,” Alex notes as tiny fingers wrap around his thumb. “Definitely going to be a racer.”
“Look at those long eyelashes,” Oscar marvels. “Those have to be from Charles.”
Charles preens a bit at this, while the others roll their eyes good-naturedly.
When it’s Fernando’s turn to hold the baby, he studies her with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he says slowly, “I think she has your smile.”
You raise an eyebrow. “She hasn’t even smiled yet.”
He shakes his head, a mysterious smile on his face. “Trust me. I can tell.”
As the baby makes her way back to you, the drivers settle into chairs around the room, their eyes never leaving the tiny bundle.
“So,” George says, breaking the comfortable silence. “Have you thought about names?”
You nod, looking down at your daughter. “I have, actually. I was thinking ... Nessa. It means miracle. I thought it was fitting, given how she came into our lives.”
“Nessa,” Logan repeats, testing the name. “I like it. It’s beautiful.”
The others murmur their agreement, and you feel a wave of relief. Naming a baby is hard enough without having to consider the opinions of eleven potential fathers.
“Nessa it is, then,” you say, smiling down at the sleeping infant.
Lance, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “Can I ask ... how are you feeling? About all of this, I mean.”
You take a moment to consider the question. “Honestly? I’m overwhelmed. Excited, terrified, grateful ... all at once. But mostly, I’m just in awe. Of her, of this whole situation, of all of you.”
The drivers exchange glances, a mix of emotions playing across their faces.
“We’re the ones who should be in awe of you,” Carlos says softly. “You’ve given us an incredible gift.”
“He’s right,” Max adds. “No matter which one of us is her biological father, we’re all going to love her. And you.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you. All of you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
As if sensing the emotional moment, Nessa chooses that moment to wake up, her tiny face scrunching up as she lets out a wail.
“Oh boy,” Lando says, his eyes wide. “That’s quite a set of lungs she’s got there.”
You laugh, adjusting Nessa in your arms. “Well, she is a paddock baby. Got to make herself heard over those engines somehow.”
As you soothe the baby, the drivers watch in fascination. It’s clear that despite their earlier bravado, the reality of a newborn is a bit daunting.
“So, uh, what happens now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
You look up from Nessa, who’s settled back into sleep. “Well, we’ll be here for a couple more days. After that ... I guess we figure it out as we go along.”
Lewis nods thoughtfully. “We’ll need to work out a schedule. Make sure you have support, especially during race weekends.”
“And we’ll need to baby-proof our garages,” Alex adds. “Can’t have her crawling into a stack of tires.”
The conversation turns to practical matters — childcare arrangements, safety considerations, and how to balance their racing careers with their new roles as ... well, whatever they are to Nessa.
As they talk, you can’t help but marvel at the scene. Eleven of the world’s most elite drivers, discussing diaper brands and the merits of various baby carriers with the same intensity they usually reserve for tire strategies and aerodynamics.
“You know,” you say, interrupting a heated debate about the best brand of baby formula, “I think Nessa might be the luckiest baby in the world.”
The drivers pause, looking at you quizzically.
You smile, looking around at each of them. “She’s got eleven of the most dedicated, passionate, and competitive men in the world looking out for her. Plus, she’s guaranteed to have the coolest bring your parent to school day ever.”
The room erupts in laughter, the tension of the day finally breaking.
“Just wait until she’s old enough to drive,” Max says with a grin. “We’ll have her in a kart before she can walk.”
“Oh no,” you groan, though you’re smiling. “I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?”
“Eleven monsters,” Charles corrects with a wink. “Don’t forget, we’re all in this together.”
As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the room. Nessa sleeps peacefully in your arms, blissfully unaware of the extraordinary circumstances of her birth and the unique family she’s been born into.
Fernando breaks the silence. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “in many ways, this little one embodies the spirit of Formula 1.”
The others look at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Think about it,” he continues. “She’s the product of competition, of pushing boundaries, of taking risks. But she’s also about teamwork, about coming together for a common goal. Just like us on the track.”
The drivers nod, considering Fernando’s words.
“Plus,” Logan adds with a grin, “she’s already got a better sleep schedule than most of us during a race weekend.”
Another round of laughter fills the room, and you feel a surge of affection for these men who have become so much more than colleagues or even friends.
As visiting hours come to an end and the nurses start to shoo the drivers out, there’s a reluctance to leave. Each of them takes a moment to say goodbye to Nessa, promising to return soon.
Before they go, Lewis gathers everyone into a tight circle around your bed.
“I think we need to make a pact,” he says solemnly. “No matter what happens, no matter how our careers go or how life changes, we stick together for Nessa. She’s part of all of us now.”
The drivers nod in agreement, their faces serious.
“For Nessa,” Max says, placing his hand in the center of the circle.
One by one, the others follow suit, until all eleven hands are stacked together.
“For Nessa,” they chorus, and in that moment, you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you and your daughter will never face them alone.
As the drivers file out, casting longing glances back at the sleeping baby, you settle back against your pillows, exhausted but content.
Looking down at Nessa’s peaceful face, you whisper, “Welcome to the world, little one. You’ve got quite the adventure ahead of you.”
And as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but smile at the thought of the unconventional but loving family waiting just outside those hospital doors, ready to take on the world for the tiny girl in your arms.
***
The paddock rushes with activity as teams prepare for the upcoming race weekend. But between the usual hustle and bustle, an unusual sight catches everyone’s attention: you, pushing a stroller with a now six-month-old Nessa, surrounded by a protective circle of drivers.
Max hovers close, his eyes darting around warily. “Are you sure this was a good idea? Bringing her to the track?”
You laugh, adjusting Nessa’s sun hat. “Max, she’s been coming to races since she was born. This is nothing new.”
“Yeah, but now she’s old enough to attract attention,” Charles points out, cooing at Nessa as she gurgles happily.
Lando nods in agreement. “People are starting to ask questions. Did you see that article in Autosport last week?”
You sigh, remembering the speculative piece about Nessa’s parentage. “I saw it. But we knew this day would come eventually.”
As the group makes their way through the paddock, heads turn and whispers follow. The sight of eleven of the world’s top drivers fawning over one baby is certainly not an everyday occurrence.
Carlos leans in, speaking softly. “Maybe we should have come up with a cover story. You know, pick one of us to pretend to be the father.”
George shakes his head. “No, we agreed from the start — no lies. We’re all in this together, remember?”
“Easier said than done,” Logan mutters, noticing a group of journalists eyeing them curiously.
As they approach the Mercedes garage, Lewis spots a familiar face and freezes. “Uh, guys? We might have a problem.”
The others follow his gaze to see your older brother, striding purposefully towards the group. His expression is a mix of confusion and growing anger.
“Seb!” You exclaim, trying to sound casual. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Switzerland.”
Sebastian ignores your greeting, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. “What’s going on here?” He demands, his gaze sweeping over the assembled drivers.
The group exchanges nervous glances, each silently hoping someone else will take the lead.
Finally, Fernando steps forward, ever the diplomat. “Sebastian, my friend. It’s good to see you. Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere more private?”
But Sebastian is having none of it. His eyes lock onto Lewis, who instinctively takes a step back. “Lewis?” He says, his voice dangerously quiet. “Care to explain why you and half the grid are hovering around my sister and a baby?”
Lewis swallows hard, looking to the others for support. Finding none, he takes a deep breath. “Seb, it’s not what you think. Well, it is, but also it isn’t. You see-”
“Lewis?” Sebastian explodes, his face reddening. “I thought better of you!”
The outburst draws even more attention, and you can see team personnel and journalists alike straining to hear what’s happening.
Lewis, caught off guard by Sebastian’s reaction, blurts out, “In my defense, I thought I would get to fuck her!”
A collective gasp goes up from the group, and you bury your face in your hands, mortified.
Sebastian’s eyes widen in shock and fury. “Tha- what? How would that make it better?”
Realizing his mistake, Lewis backpedals frantically. “No, no, that came out wrong! I didn’t mean-”
But Sebastian is beyond listening. He lunges forward, only to be held back by Alex and Oscar.
“Let me go!” Sebastian growls, struggling against their grip. “I’m going to kill him!”
Nessa, startled by the commotion, begins to cry. The sound seems to snap everyone back to reality.
“Enough!” You shout, your voice cutting through the chaos. “All of you, into the motorhome. Now!”
Chastened, the drivers file into the nearby Red Bull motorhome, with Alex and Oscar still keeping a firm grip on Sebastian. You follow, pushing Nessa’s stroller and trying to soothe her.
Once inside, with the door firmly closed against prying eyes and ears, you turn to face the group. Sebastian stands at one end, still glaring daggers at Lewis, who’s wisely put Max and Charles between them.
“Alright,” you say, your voice tight with frustration. “I guess it’s time we explained everything.”
Over the next hour, you and the drivers take turns recounting the story — from your decision to have a baby, to their unconventional offer, to Nessa’s birth and the months since. Sebastian listens in stunned silence, his expression cycling through disbelief, confusion, and finally, grudging understanding.
When the tale is finished, Sebastian slumps into a chair, running a hand over his face. “So let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You,” he points at you, “decided to have a baby on your own. And you lot,” he gestures at the drivers, “thought the best solution was to play some kind of ... paternity lottery?”
Lance nods hesitantly. “When you put it like that, it does sound a bit mad.”
“A bit?” Sebastian laughs incredulously. “It’s completely insane!”
“But it worked,” Carlos points out, gently rocking Nessa, who has calmed down and is now contentedly chewing on his finger. “Look at her, Seb. She’s perfect.”
Sebastian’s expression softens as he looks at his niece. “She is beautiful,” he admits. Then, turning back to the group, he adds sternly, “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you all took advantage of my sister!”
“They didn’t take advantage of me,” you interject firmly. “This was my choice. They were just ... supporting me.”
“By offering to impregnate you?” Sebastian retorts, his protective big brother instincts in full force.
George steps forward, his expression earnest. “Sebastian, I know how this looks. But we care about your sister. All of us. We just wanted to help make her dream come true.”
“And create the world’s most confusing family tree in the process,” Logan mutters, earning a sharp elbow from Lando.
Sebastian sighs, looking around at the assembled drivers. “I still can’t believe you all agreed to this. Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? The media frenzy when this gets out?”
Fernando shrugs philosophically. “Life is full of challenges. This is just another one.”
“Easy for you to say,” Max grumbles. “You’re basically past retirement age. Some of us still have our whole careers ahead of us.”
The room falls silent as the reality of their situation sinks in. The secret they’ve managed to keep for over a year is on the verge of exploding into the public eye.
“So what do we do now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
You look down at Nessa, who’s drifted off to sleep in Carlos’ arms, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around her. “We tell the truth,” you say firmly. “Or at least, as much of it as we’re comfortable sharing.”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly does that mean?”
Lewis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet since his earlier outburst, speaks up. “We could say that we all agreed to help you have a child, but keep the details private. No need to mention the ... um, method.”
“You mean the part where you thought you would get to fuck her?” Sebastian growls, causing Lewis to wince.
“I really am sorry about that,” Lewis says sheepishly. “It came out all wrong.”
You shake your head, exasperated. “Focus, boys. We need a plan.”
Over the next hour, the group hashes out a strategy. They decide to release a joint statement explaining that you had chosen to become a single mother, and that the drivers, as your close friends, had offered their support. The exact nature of that support would remain private.
As they finalize the details, Sebastian watches the interactions with growing amazement. The way the drivers instinctively work together, finishing each other’s sentences and anticipating potential issues, speaks to a bond that goes beyond mere friendship or even shared paternity.
“You know,” he says finally, interrupting a debate about whether to use the phrase ‘unconventional family’ in their statement, “I think I owe you all an apology.”
The room falls silent, all eyes turning to Sebastian.
He continues, his voice softer now. “I reacted badly earlier. But seeing you all now, how you’ve come together for my sister and for Nessa ... it’s actually kind of beautiful.”
You feel tears pricking at your eyes as you move to hug your brother. “Thank you, Seb. That means a lot.”
As you pull away, Sebastian turns to address the group. “But let me make one thing clear,” he says, his tone becoming stern once more. “If any of you ever hurt my sister or my niece, you’ll have me to answer to. Understood?”
The drivers nod solemnly, a mixture of respect and residual fear in their eyes.
“Good,” Sebastian says, a small smile finally breaking through. “Now, who’s going to let me hold my niece?”
As Carlos carefully transfers the sleeping Nessa to Sebastian’s arms, the tension in the room finally dissipates. Watching your brother coo over your daughter, surrounded by the unconventional family you’ve built, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.
“Well,” Lando says, breaking the moment, “I guess the hardest part’s over. Now we just have to explain this to the rest of the world.”
Alex laughs, shaking his head. “Mate, I think that might actually be the easy part. It’s raising her that’s going to be the real challenge.”
As the group dissolves into laughter, discussing potential future scenarios (“Who’s going to teach her to drive?” “All of us, obviously!” “God help us all.”), you can’t help but marvel at the strange and wonderful turn your life has taken.
Looking around at the men who have become so much more than colleagues or friends — who have become family in the truest sense of the word — you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. And really, with a support system like this, how can you possibly fail?
As the laughter and chatter continue around you, Nessa stirs in Sebastian’s arms, her tiny hand reaching out. Without hesitation, eleven hands reach back, each driver gently touching a finger or offering a thumb for her to grasp.
In that moment, watching the most competitive men in motorsport melt over one tiny girl, you know that no matter what the future holds, Nessa will never lack for love, support, or, undoubtedly, speed.
***
The sun beats down on the jam-packed karting track, the air thick with the scent of fuel and the buzz of excitement. Amid the crowd of nervous parents and eager young racers, one group stands out: eleven men, a mix of current and former Formula 1 drivers, clustered around a small kart where an eight-year-old girl sits, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and her face a mask of determination.
“Remember, Nessa,” Max says, kneeling beside the kart to look the girl in the eye, “smooth on the throttle, late on the brakes.”
Charles leans in from the other side. “But not too late, mon chou. You don’t want to lock up in the corners.”
“And watch your lines,” Lewis adds, adjusting Nessa’s helmet. “The racing line isn’t always the optimal when you’re being pressured.”
Nessa nods solemnly, taking in every word. “I know, I know. We’ve been over this a million times.”
Lando grins, ruffling her hair. “That’s our girl. You’ve got this, kiddo.”
Around them, other parents and children stare in disbelief. Whispers ripple through the crowd as people recognize the famous faces surrounding the young racer.
“Is that really Lewis Hamilton?” One mother hisses to her husband.
“And Max Verstappen!” The man replies, his eyes wide. “What are they doing here?”
A nearby father shakes his head in amazement. “I heard rumors about that kid, but I didn’t believe them. How can she have so many ... well, fathers?”
Meanwhile, you stand slightly apart from the group, watching the scene with a mix of pride and amusement. Your brother sidles up beside you.
“You know,” he says with a wry smile, “when I imagined my niece’s first race, I didn’t quite picture this circus.”
You laugh, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh come on, you love it. Besides, you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”
As if to prove your point, Sebastian’s eyes narrow as he spots Carlos making a last-minute adjustment to Nessa’s kart. “Hey!” He calls out, striding over. “What are you doing to her suspension?”
Carlos looks up, startled. “Just a small tweak. The track’s a bit bumpy on turn three.”
“It’s fine as it is,” George interjects, crouching down to inspect the kart. “Any softer and she’ll lose responsiveness in the chicane.”
“Actually,” Fernando chimes in, “a slight adjustment might help. But not too much, Carlos.”
As the debate over suspension settings intensifies, Alex notices Nessa’s growing nervousness. He kneels beside her, speaking softly. “Hey, little racer. How are you feeling?”
Nessa bites her lip, her eyes darting between her arguing fathers and the other young racers preparing for the race. “What if I let them down?” She whispers. “They’re all so excited.”
Alex’s expression softens. “Oh, Nessa. You could never let us down. We’re proud of you no matter what happens out there.”
“He’s right,” Oscar adds, overhearing the conversation. “We’re here because we love you, not because we expect you to win.”
“Although winning would be nice,” Logan quips, earning a chorus of groans and eye-rolls from the others.
“What Logan means,” Lance says, shooting a glare at his fellow driver, “is that we want you to do your best and, most importantly, have fun.”
Nessa nods, a small smile finally breaking through her nervous expression. “Okay. I’ll try.”
As the call comes for racers to take their positions, the group reluctantly steps back, allowing Nessa to maneuver her kart to the starting line. You move forward, leaning in to give your daughter a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Remember,” you say softly, “you’re amazing, no matter what happens out there. And we love you more than anything.”
Nessa beams at you, her earlier nerves seeming to melt away. “I love you too. And all my dads,” she adds with a giggle, looking at the assembled drivers.
As you step back to join the others, the atmosphere around you changes. The playful bickering and nervous energy give way to a focused intensity that you recognize from countless race weekends. Eleven pairs of eyes are locked on the small figure in the pink and white kart, second row on the starting grid.
The lights begin their sequence, and you can almost feel the collective intake of breath from the men around you. Green! The karts surge forward, and Nessa makes a good start, holding her position into the first corner.
“That’s it, ma princesse!” Charles cheers, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Hold your line!”
“Watch your inside on turn two,” Max mutters, as if Nessa could hear him. “There’s space if you need it.”
As the race progresses, the commentary from the drivers becomes a constant stream, analyzing every move, every overtake, every defensive maneuver. Other parents cast bewildered glances their way, clearly overwhelmed by the level of scrutiny being applied to what they had assumed would be a casual children’s race.
Midway through the race, Nessa makes a bold move, diving down the inside of the leader into a tight hairpin. The karts touch slightly, and for a heart-stopping moment, it looks like both might spin.
“Steady!” Lewis calls out, his body tensing as if he could somehow influence the outcome through sheer will.
But Nessa manages to control the kart, emerging from the corner in the lead as the other driver runs wide.
The group erupts in cheers, their earlier promises of “it’s not about winning” seemingly forgotten in the heat of the moment.
“Did you see that move?” Lando exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement. “That was pure Norris!”
“Excuse me,” Charles interjects, a proud grin on his face, “I think you mean pure Leclerc. That finesse under pressure? All Ferrari.”
“Oh please,” George scoffs good-naturedly. “That was clearly a Russell special. Calculated risk with perfect execution.”
As the friendly argument over whose racing style Nessa has inherited continues, Sebastian leans in close to you. “You know,” he says, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation, “I’m starting to think we created a monster.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, we definitely did. But look how happy they all are.”
Indeed, as you watch the men who have become your family over the past eight years, you’re struck by the pure joy radiating from them. Their focus is entirely on Nessa, their own achievements and rivalries forgotten in their shared pride for this little girl who has somehow become the center of their world.
As the final lap approaches, Nessa is still in the lead, but with another driver close on her tail. The tension among the group reaches fever pitch.
“Come on, Nessa,” Fernando murmurs, his eyes never leaving the track. “You’ve got this. Stay focused.”
“Defend the inside line,” Carlos advises, as if she could hear him. “Don’t give them any space.”
The last corner approaches, and the second-place kart makes a desperate lunge for the inside line. For a moment, it looks like Nessa might be overtaken at the last second.
“No, no, no,” Alex mutters, his hands clenched into fists.
But Nessa holds her nerve, taking a slightly wider line and using her momentum to slingshot out of the corner and across the finish line, just ahead of her rival.
The eruption of cheers from the group of F1 drivers drowns out even the sound of the karts. They jump, hug each other, and pump their fists in the air as if Nessa had just won the World Drivers’ Championship.
As Nessa brings her kart to a stop in the pit area, she’s immediately surrounded by her fathers, each clamoring to be the first to congratulate her.
“That was incredible, little love!” Lewis exclaims, helping her out of the kart.
“You drove like a champion,” Max adds, his face split by an enormous grin.
“I’m so proud of you, mon petit champion,” Charles says, pulling her into a tight hug.
The other parents watch in amazement as Nessa is passed from one racing legend to another, each offering praise, analysis, and suggestions for improvement in equal measure.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” one father mutters to his wife. “How is this fair? That kid has a whole F1 pit crew!”
His wife shushes him, but nods in agreement, her eyes wide as she watches the scene unfold.
Meanwhile, you make your way through the crowd of excited drivers to reach your daughter. As you approach, the men part to let you through, their chatter dying down.
You kneel in front of Nessa, taking in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” You ask softly.
Nessa’s face breaks into a wide grin. “That was amazing! Did you see when I overtook on the hairpin? And the last corner, I thought for sure he was going to pass me, but I remembered what Papa Fernando said about late apexes, and it worked!”
You laugh, pulling her into a hug. “I saw it all, baby. You were incredible.”
As you release her, Nessa looks around at the circle of beaming faces surrounding her. “Did I make you proud?” She asks, a hint of her earlier nervousness returning.
“Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Sebastian says, ruffling her hair affectionately.
“You exceeded all our expectations,” Fernando adds with a warm smile.
“And trust me,” Lando chimes in with a wink, “our expectations were pretty high to begin with.”
As Nessa basks in the praise and attention of her unconventional family, a race official approaches, looking slightly overwhelmed.
“Excuse me,” he says hesitantly, “but we need to do the podium ceremony now.”
The drivers reluctantly step back, allowing Nessa to follow the official to the makeshift podium. As she takes her place on the top step, her face beaming with pride, you find yourself surrounded by eleven grown men, each looking as proud as if they had just won a world championship themselves.
“You know,” Oscar says softly, his eyes never leaving Nessa as she receives her trophy, “I think we might be in trouble.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, turning to look at him.
He grins, a mixture of pride and mock fear in his eyes. “If she’s this good at eight, can you imagine what she’ll be like at eighteen? We might be out of jobs.”
The group chuckles, but there’s a note of truth in Oscar’s words. As you watch Nessa on the podium, her small hands raised in triumph, you can’t help but wonder what the future holds for this extraordinary little girl with her eleven F1 driver fathers.
But for now, as the sound of applause fills the air and you see the pure joy on Nessa’s face, you push those thoughts aside. There will be time enough for worrying about the future later. For now, you’re content to bask in this moment of triumph, surrounded by the most unconventional and wonderful family you could have ever imagined.
As Nessa runs back to the group, her trophy clutched tightly in her hands, she’s enveloped in a group hug that threatens to lift her off her feet. And in that moment, watching the pure love and pride radiating from these men who have given your daughter so much more than just their DNA, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, Nessa will always have the strongest support system imaginable.
After all, with her fathers in her corner, how can she possibly fail?
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