#but then one of the others hits him in the back of the head with the splash fruit

[pucksandpower]

Be My Sanctuary

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles never expected to play Prince Charming to a stranger after a race, but when he comes across you being beaten by your boyfriend, he can’t just stand around and do nothing … it turns out to be exactly what you both needed

Warnings: domestic violence, abuse, and serious injury

The sun dips low on the horizon as Charles Leclerc and Fred Vasseur make their way back to the Ferrari motorhome. The air buzzes with post-race energy, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration.

“That was some driving out there,” Fred says, clapping the Monégasque on the back. “P2 is nothing to sneeze at.”

Charles grins, his eyes bright despite the fatigue etched on his face. “Merci beaucoup. It felt good to be back on the podium. I think we’re really starting to find our rhythm with the car.”

“Agreed. If we can keep this momentum going-”

A sharp crack cuts through the air, followed by a cry of pain that makes both men freeze in their tracks.

Charles’ head whips around. “Did you hear that?”

Fred nods, his expression grim. “It came from over there.” He points towards a secluded area behind one of the hospitality units.

Without hesitation, they break into a run, rounding the corner just in time to see a man’s hand connect with a woman’s face. The sound of the impact turns Charles’ stomach.

“You stupid bitch!” The man screams, his face contorted with rage. “Do you have any idea how much money I lost because of you? I told you not to come to the race! You’re bad luck!”

You stumble backward, your hand pressed to your cheek. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Shut up!” The man lunges forward, grabbing you by the arms and shaking you violently. “You cost me everything!”

Charles feels a surge of anger course through him. Without thinking, he sprints towards the pair, Fred close on his heels.

“Hey!” Charles shouts. “Let her go!”

The man’s head snaps up, his eyes wild. For a split second, he looks startled, but then his face twists into a snarl. Before Charles can reach them, the man slams your head against the brick wall with a sickening thud.

You crumple to the ground, unmoving.

Charles tackles the man, driving him away from the fallen woman. They hit the ground hard, and Charles feels the air rush out of his lungs. But adrenaline keeps him moving, and he manages to pin the larger man down.

“Fred!” He calls out. “Check on her!”

As Charles struggles to keep the man subdued, he hears Fred’s sharp intake of breath.

“Charles, she’s not responding. There’s ... there’s a lot of blood.”

The words send a chill down Charles’ spine. He glances over his shoulder and sees you lying motionless on the ground, a dark pool spreading beneath your head.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Charles shouts, hoping someone nearby will hear. He turns back to the man beneath him, who’s still thrashing and cursing. “Stop moving!” Charles hisses, pressing his forearm against the man’s chest.

“Get off me!” The man spits. “This is none of your business!”

Charles feels a fresh wave of rage wash over him. “None of my business? You just assaulted someone!”

Fred’s voice cuts through the chaos. “I’ve called for help. They’re on their way.” He’s kneeling beside you now, his jacket pressed against your head. “But it doesn’t look good. She needs immediate medical attention.”

The sound of running footsteps approaches, and suddenly there are more people around them. Charles recognizes some of the faces — other drivers, team personnel. Someone pulls him off the attacker, who’s quickly restrained by security.

Charles stumbles to his feet, his heart pounding. He makes his way over to where you lie, dropping to his knees beside Fred.

“Is she ...” He can’t bring himself to finish the question.

Fred shakes his head. “She’s alive, but barely. We need to keep pressure on the wound until the paramedics arrive.”

Charles nods, placing his hands over Fred’s on the makeshift compress. He looks down at your face, so pale and still. “Hold on,” he whispers. “Just hold on.”

The wait for the ambulance feels interminable. Charles keeps his eyes fixed on your chest, watching for the slight rise and fall that tells him you’re still breathing. He’s vaguely aware of the commotion around them — people asking questions, security trying to keep everyone back.

“What happened?” It’s Lewis’ voice, tinged with concern.

Fred answers, his voice low and tight. “Domestic violence. The boyfriend ...” He trails off, but the implication is clear.

“Jesus,” Lewis mutters. “Is there anything we can do?”

Charles looks up, meeting Lewis’ worried gaze. “Just ... pray, I guess.”

The sound of sirens cuts through the air, growing louder by the second. Charles feels a small measure of relief, but it’s quickly overshadowed by fear as he looks back down at you.

“Stay with us,” he murmurs. “Help is coming. Just stay with us.”

The paramedics arrive in a flurry of activity, gently but firmly moving Charles and Fred aside. Charles watches, feeling helpless, as they work on you with practiced efficiency.

“Severe head trauma,” one of them says. “We need to move her now.”

As they lift you onto a stretcher, Charles catches a glimpse of your face. There’s a bruise blooming on your cheek, stark against your pale skin. Something twists in his chest, a mixture of anger and an emotion he can’t quite name.

“I’m going with her,” he says suddenly, surprising himself.

Fred puts a hand on his shoulder. “Charles, I don’t think-”

“I need to make sure she’s okay,” Charles insists. He looks at Fred, pleading. “Someone needs to be there for her.”

After a moment, Fred nods. “Alright. I’ll handle things here and meet you at the hospital.”

Charles climbs into the ambulance, his eyes never leaving your still form. As the doors close and the vehicle lurches into motion, he reaches out and gently takes your hand.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he says softly, “but you’re not alone. I’m right here with you. And I promise, you’re going to be okay.”

As the ambulance speeds through the streets, sirens wailing, Charles finds himself holding onto your hand like a lifeline. He’s not sure if he’s trying to comfort you or himself.

The paramedic working on you glances at Charles. “You know her?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, I ... we just found her. Her boyfriend was ...” He swallows hard. “We stopped him, but not soon enough.”

The paramedic’s face softens with understanding. “You did the right thing. You probably saved her life by intervening when you did.”

Charles nods, but the words bring little comfort. He can’t shake the image of your head hitting the wall, the sound it made. He squeezes your hand gently.

“Fight,” he whispers. “Please fight.”

The rest of the ride passes in a blur of medical jargon and the steady beep of monitors. When they finally arrive at the hospital, Charles is ushered into a waiting room while you’re rushed into emergency surgery.

He paces the small room, unable to sit still. His mind races with questions. Who are you? Why would someone do this to you? Will you be okay?

Time seems to stretch endlessly. Charles checks his phone, sees messages from Fred and other concerned friends, but he can’t bring himself to respond yet. Not until he knows something.

Finally, after what feels like hours, a doctor approaches him. Charles stands, his heart in his throat.

“Are you here for the young woman brought in with head trauma?” The doctor asks.

Charles nods. “Yes. Is she ...”

“She’s out of surgery,” the doctor says. “We’ve managed to relieve the pressure on her brain, but the next 24 hours will be critical. Are you family?”

Charles hesitates. “No, I ... I was there when it happened. I rode here with her in the ambulance.”

The doctor’s expression softens slightly. “I see. Well, I can tell you that she’s stable for now, but still unconscious. We’ll be monitoring her closely.”

“Can I see her?” The words are out of Charles’ mouth before he can think better of it.

The doctor considers for a moment. “Normally we only allow family, but ... given the circumstances, I think we can make an exception. Just for a few minutes.”

Charles follows the doctor down a series of hallways, his heart pounding. When they reach your room, he pauses at the doorway, suddenly unsure.

“Go on,” the doctor says gently. “Talk to her. Sometimes patients can hear even when they’re unconscious.”

Taking a deep breath, Charles steps into the room. The sight of you lying there, surrounded by machines, makes his chest tighten. He moves to your bedside, carefully taking your hand once more.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s Charles. The guy from before. I don’t know if you remember, but ... I’m here. You’re safe now.”

He stands there for a long moment, just holding your hand and watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. It’s strange, he thinks, to feel so connected to someone he’s never even spoken to.

“I don’t know your story,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want you to know that you didn’t deserve this. No one does. And when you wake up — because you will wake up — you won’t be alone. I promise.”

A nurse appears in the doorway, signaling that his time is up. Charles gives your hand one last gentle squeeze before reluctantly letting go.

As he leaves the room, he turns back for one last look. “I’ll be back,” he says. “Stay strong.”

Walking back to the waiting room, Charles feels a mix of emotions he can’t quite sort out. But one thing is clear — something has changed. And whatever happens next, he knows he’ll be there to see it through.

***

Days blend into one another as Charles maintains his vigil at your bedside. The rest of the Formula 1 circus has long since departed, but Charles can’t bring himself to leave. He’s made arrangements with the team, grateful for their understanding, and settled into a routine of sorts.

Each morning, he arrives at the hospital with fresh flowers and a determination that today might be the day you wake up. He talks to you, reads to you, and sometimes just sits in companionable silence, the steady beep of monitors a constant backdrop.

On the fifth day, as Charles is midway through reading an article about the benefits of having a dachshund, he notices a slight change. Your fingers twitch, almost imperceptibly. He leans forward, heart racing.

“Hey,” he says softly, taking your hand. “Can you hear me? If you can, squeeze my hand.”

For a long moment, nothing happens. Then, so faintly he almost misses it, he feels a gentle pressure against his palm. His breath catches in his throat.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “You’re doing great. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Slowly, painfully slowly, your eyelids flutter open. Your gaze is unfocused at first, confusion evident in your expression as you try to make sense of your surroundings.

“It’s okay,” Charles says, keeping his voice low and soothing. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe now.”

You blink a few times, your gaze finally settling on Charles. Your brow furrows slightly, and you open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

“Don’t try to talk just yet,” Charles advises. “Your throat might be sore from the tube. Here.” He reaches for a cup of water with a straw, holding it to your lips. “Small sips, okay?”

You take a tentative sip, wincing slightly. After a moment, you try again to speak. Your voice is raspy, barely above a whisper. “Who ...”

“I’m Charles,” he says. “I was there when ... when you got hurt. Do you remember anything?”

You close your eyes, a pained expression crossing your face. “Jake,” you murmur. “He was angry ...”

Charles feels a flare of anger at the mention of your boyfriend’s name, but he keeps his voice calm. “That’s right. He hurt you pretty badly. But you’re safe now. He can’t get to you here.”

You shake your head slightly, wincing at the movement. “It wasn’t his fault,” you say. “He just ... he gets upset sometimes. I shouldn’t have gone to the race. I knew it would make him angry.”

Charles frowns, recognizing the pattern of self-blame common in abuse victims. He takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Listen,” he says gently. “What happened to you wasn’t your fault. No matter how angry someone gets, they don’t have the right to hurt you. Ever.”

You look away, tears welling up in your eyes. “You don’t understand. Jake ... he loves me. He just has a temper sometimes.”

“Love shouldn’t hurt,” Charles says firmly. “Love doesn’t leave you in the hospital with a skull fracture.”

Your eyes widen slightly at this information. “Is that ... is that what happened to me?”

Charles nods solemnly. “You’ve been unconscious for five days. The doctors ... they weren’t sure if you’d wake up at all.”

A tear slips down your cheek. “I don’t ... I don’t know what to do now.”

“You press charges,” Charles says without hesitation. “What he did to you was a crime. He needs to face the consequences of his actions.”

You shake your head frantically, wincing again at the movement. “No, I can’t. He’d be so angry. He ...”

“He would what?” Charles presses gently. “Hurt you again? That’s exactly why you need to do this. To protect yourself and maybe even others.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, tears falling silently. “I’m scared,” you finally whisper.

Charles squeezes your hand. “I know. And that’s okay. Being scared doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human. But you’re stronger than you know. You survived this. You can survive what comes next, too.”

“But where would I go?” You ask, your voice small. “Jake ... he made me drop out of school. I had to quit my job. I don’t have anywhere to go, or any money, or ...”

Your words trail off as a fresh wave of tears overtakes you. Charles feels a surge of protectiveness, coupled with a deep anger at the man who has left you in this situation.

“Hey,” he says softly, waiting until you meet his gaze. “I know we’ve only just met, and this might sound crazy, but ... what if you came to stay with me for a while?”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“I live in Monaco,” Charles explains. “I know it’s far from here, but maybe that’s a good thing. It would give you some distance, some time to figure things out without having to worry about ... about him finding you.”

“But ... but I couldn’t,” you stammer. “I don’t have any money, I can’t pay rent or-”

Charles shakes his head. “I’m not asking for rent. I’m offering you a safe place to stay while you get back on your feet. No strings attached.”

You look at him skeptically. “Why would you do that for a stranger?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, considering his answer. “Because when I saw what was happening to you, I couldn’t just walk away. And I can’t walk away now, knowing you need help. Maybe it’s not my place, maybe it’s crossing some line, but ... I want to help. If you’ll let me.”

You’re silent for a long moment, and Charles can almost see the wheels turning in your mind as you weigh your options.

“What about your job?” You finally ask. “Don’t you have races to go to?”

Charles nods. “I do. But I have a big apartment, and there’s plenty of room. You’d have your own space. And when I’m away for races, I have friends who could check in on you, make sure you have everything you need.”

You bite your lip, looking torn. “I don’t know ... it’s a lot to take in.”

“Of course,” Charles says quickly. “You don’t have to decide right now. Take some time to think about it. But know that the offer is there if you want it.”

Just then, a nurse enters the room. Her face lights up when she sees you’re awake. “Well, look who’s back with us,” she says warmly. “I’ll go get the doctor. He’ll want to check you over.”

As the nurse leaves, you turn back to Charles. “You should go,” you say. “You’ve already done so much. You don’t need to stay.”

Charles stands, but he doesn’t move towards the door. “I’ll step out while the doctor examines you,” he says. “But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to come back after. We can talk more about ... everything.”

You hesitate for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” you say softly. “And ... thank you. For being here. For caring.”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “Of course,” he says. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

As he steps into the hallway, Charles takes a deep breath. He knows he’s getting involved in a complicated situation, one that could have far-reaching consequences. But looking back at you through the doorway, he knows he’s made the right choice. Whatever comes next, he’ll be there to help you through it.

The doctor arrives, and Charles settles into a chair in the hallway. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through the messages he’s neglected over the past few days. There’s one from Fred, asking for an update. Charles types out a quick reply.

She’s awake. It’s complicated, but I think she’s going to be okay. I’ll call you later with details.

As he hits send, Charles leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He knows the road ahead won’t be easy, for either of you. But for the first time in days, he feels a spark of hope. It’s a start, he thinks. And sometimes, that’s all you need.

***

The sunlight glints off the sleek exterior of the private jet as Charles helps you up the stairs. He can feel the slight tremor in your hand as he guides you inside, noting the way your eyes dart nervously around the cabin.

“Welcome aboard,” Charles says with a warm smile, hoping to put you at ease. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ve got a bit of a flight ahead of us.”

You nod, your lips pressed into a thin line as you sink into one of the plush leather seats. Charles settles in across from you, watching as you fumble with the seatbelt.

“Here, let me help,” he offers, leaning forward to assist. As he clicks the belt into place, he notices your knuckles turning white as you grip the armrests. “First time flying?” He asks gently.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

Charles shakes his head, his expression kind. “Not at all. But I fly a lot, so I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting nervous passengers.”

The engines roar to life, and you jump slightly in your seat. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t realize I’d be this scared.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” Charles assures you. “It’s a completely normal fear. Did you know that even some drivers get nervous on planes?”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? But you guys race at insane speeds for a living.”

Charles chuckles. “I know, it sounds crazy. But it’s true. I think it’s about control. In a car, we’re in charge. On a plane, we have to trust someone else.”

You nod, seeming to relax slightly at his words. But as the plane begins to taxi, your grip on the armrests tightens again.

“So,” Charles says, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me about what you were studying before ... well, before everything happened.”

You look at him, confusion briefly replacing the fear in your eyes. “What?”

“You mentioned you had to drop out of school,” Charles explains. “What were you studying?”

A small laugh escapes you, tinged with irony. “You’re going to think this is ridiculous, but ... I was studying law.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Law? That’s impressive. Why would I think it’s ridiculous?”

You shrug, a hint of sadness creeping into your expression. “Just seems a bit ironic now, doesn’t it? Studying law and then ending up in a situation like ... like mine.”

The plane begins to accelerate down the runway, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Hey,” Charles says softly, reaching across to place his hand over yours. “Look at me. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. Charles can see the fear there, but also a flicker of determination.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Now, tell me more about your law studies. What made you choose that field?”

You take a deep breath, clearly making an effort to focus on the conversation rather than the plane’s ascent. “I’ve always been interested in justice, I guess. Helping people who can’t help themselves. I wanted to make a difference.”

Charles nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “That’s admirable. And you know what? I don’t think it’s ironic at all that you were studying law. If anything, I think it shows how strong you are.”

The plane levels off, and some of the tension leaves your body. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charles says, leaning back in his seat but keeping his hand on yours, “you chose a field dedicated to justice and helping others. That takes courage and compassion. The fact that you ended up in a difficult situation doesn’t change who you are at your core.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words. “I never thought about it like that,” you admit.

“Have you thought about going back to school?” Charles asks. “Finishing your degree?”

You shake your head, a flash of pain crossing your face. “I can’t. I don’t have the money, and even if I did, I can’t go back to my old university. Jake ... he knows where it is. He’d find me.”

Charles nods, understanding. “What if you didn’t have to go back to your old university? What if you could start fresh somewhere new?”

You look at him skeptically. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charles says, his mind racing with possibilities, “there are online programs you could look into. Or, if you prefer in-person classes, there’s the International University of Monaco. It’s a great school, and it would be close to where you’ll be staying.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Monaco has a university?”

Charles nods, a grin spreading across his face. “It does indeed. And they have a law program. I could help you look into it if you’re interested.”

You bite your lip, looking uncertain. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I was in school. And the cost ...”

“Don’t worry about the cost,” Charles says quickly. “Consider it an investment in your future. And as for being out of practice, well, that’s what studying is for, right?”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You make it sound so simple.”

Charles shrugs. “Maybe it is. Sometimes we overcomplicate things in our heads. But the truth is, if it’s something you want to do, there’s usually a way to make it happen.”

The plane encounters a patch of turbulence, causing it to shake slightly. Your grip on Charles’ hand tightens, but you don’t close your eyes this time.

“Sorry,” you mutter, loosening your grip slightly.

“No need to apologize,” Charles says. “I’m here if you need a hand to hold. Or a distraction. Speaking of which, why don’t you tell me about your favorite class from when you were in school?”

As you launch into a story about a particularly engaging Constitutional Law seminar, Charles can’t help but notice how your eyes light up. It’s the most animated he’s seen you since you woke up in the hospital, and it fills him with a sense of hope.

The rest of the flight passes in a blur of conversation. You tell Charles about your favorite professors, the most interesting cases you studied, and your obsession with Legally Blonde while growing up. In turn, Charles shares stories from his racing career, the challenges he’s faced, and the lessons he’s learned along the way.

Before either of you realize it, the captain’s voice comes over the intercom, announcing your descent into Nice.

“Oh,” you say, surprise evident in your voice. “We’re here already?”

Charles grins. “See? Not so bad, was it?”

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping you. “I guess not. Thank you, Charles. For ... well, for everything.”

As the plane touches down on the runway, Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “You’re welcome,” he says softly. “And hey, this is just the beginning, right?”

You nod, a mix of nervousness and excitement in your eyes. “Right. The beginning.”

The plane comes to a stop, and Charles stands, offering you his hand. “Ready to see your new home?”

You take a deep breath, then place your hand in his. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

As you make their way down the steps of the plane, Charles can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows the road ahead won’t be easy, but looking at you now, seeing the spark of determination in your eyes, he’s filled with hope for what the future might hold.

The Mediterranean sun greets them as they step onto the tarmac, warm and welcoming. Charles watches as you take in your surroundings, your eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, gazing at the azure sea in the distance.

Charles smiles, feeling a surge of pride for his home. “Wait until you see the rest of it. Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

As you walk towards the waiting Ferrari, Charles finds himself stealing glances at you. There’s still fear and uncertainty in your eyes, but there’s something else too — a resilience that he admires. He makes a silent promise to himself, right there on the sun-drenched tarmac of the Côte d’Azur, to do whatever he can to help you rebuild your life.

“So,” he says as you slide into the passenger seat, “shall we swing by the university on our way home? Just to have a look?”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. “Yeah,” you say, a small smile playing at your lips. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

***

The quiet of the night is shattered by a piercing scream. Charles bolts upright in his bed, heart racing, momentarily disoriented. Then realization hits him like a wave — it’s you.

Without hesitation, he leaps out of bed and races down the hallway to your room. He bursts through the door to find you thrashing in your sheets, eyes squeezed shut, still caught in the grip of your nightmare.

“No, Jake, please!” You cry out, your voice raw with fear. “Don’t hurt me!”

Charles is at your side in an instant, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey,” he says softly but firmly. “It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s just a dream.”

Your eyes fly open, wild and unfocused. For a moment, you recoil from his touch, still trapped between nightmare and reality.

“It’s me,” Charles says, keeping his voice calm. “It’s Charles. You’re in Monaco, remember? You’re safe here.”

Slowly, recognition dawns in your eyes. “Charles?” You whisper, your voice trembling.

He nods, offering a reassuring smile. “That’s right. I’m here. You’re okay.”

The tension leaves your body all at once, and you collapse against him, tears streaming down your face. Charles wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sob into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out between sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Charles soothes, running a hand gently up and down your back. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was just a nightmare.”

You pull back slightly, wiping at your tears with shaking hands. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I feel so stupid.”

Charles shakes his head firmly. “You’re not stupid. Nightmares are normal after what you’ve been through. And I’m glad I woke up. I want to be here for you.”

You take a shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself. “It felt so real,” you whisper. “I could feel his hands on me, hear his voice ...”

“But it wasn’t real,” Charles reminds you gently. “He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”

You nod, but Charles can see the lingering fear in your eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No, I ... I just want to forget.”

“Okay,” Charles says, understanding. “Is there anything I can do? Maybe get you some water or tea?”

You bite your lip, looking uncertain. “Could you ... would you mind staying? Just until I fall asleep?” The words come out in a rush, as if you’re afraid to ask.

Charles feels a surge of protectiveness. “Of course,” he says without hesitation. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

Relief washes over your face. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Charles helps you settle back against the pillows, then hesitates for a moment. “Is it okay if I ...” He gestures to the other side of the bed.

You nod, shifting over slightly to make room. Charles slips under the sheets, careful to maintain a respectful distance. But you surprise him by moving closer, seeking comfort in his presence.

“Is this okay?” You ask, your voice small.

“Of course,” Charles assures you. He opens his arms, offering an embrace without pressure. “Whatever you need.”

You hesitate for just a moment before curling into his side, your head resting on his chest. Charles wraps his arms around you, feeling the rapid beat of your heart against his side.

“Try to relax,” he murmurs. “Focus on your breathing. In and out, nice and slow.”

You nod against his chest, making a conscious effort to steady your breathing. Charles can feel some of the tension leaving your body as the minutes tick by.

“Charles?” You say after a while, your voice soft in the darkness.

“Hmm?”

“How do you do it?” You ask. “How do you stay so calm and ... and kind, even when I’m such a mess?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, considering his words. “You’re not a mess,” he says finally. “You’re healing. And that takes time. As for staying calm ... well, I’ve had my own struggles. I know what it’s like to need someone in your corner.”

You lift your head slightly, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

Charles takes a deep breath. He’s never been one to open up easily, but something about the quiet intimacy of the moment makes him want to share.

“Seven years ago now, I lost my father,” he says softly. “It was ... it was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. There were nights when I thought the pain would swallow me whole. But I had people who stood by me, who helped me through it. They taught me the importance of being there for others in their darkest moments.”

You’re silent for a long moment, absorbing his words. “I’m so sorry about your father,” you say finally. “That must have been awful.”

Charles nods, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. “It was. But it also taught me something important. Pain doesn’t last forever. It changes you, yes, but it doesn’t define you. You can come out the other side stronger.”

“Do you really believe that?” You ask, a hint of doubt in your voice.

“I do,” Charles says firmly. “I’ve seen it in myself, and I see it in you too. You’re stronger than you know.”

You’re quiet again, and Charles can almost hear the wheels turning in your mind. “I want to believe that,” you say eventually. “But sometimes it feels like ... like I’ll never be whole again.”

Charles tightens his embrace slightly. “Healing isn’t about going back to who you were before,” he says. “It’s about becoming someone new. Someone who carries the lessons of the past but isn’t defined by them.”

You nod slowly, considering his words. “That makes sense,” you admit. “It’s just ... it’s hard to see that future sometimes.”

“I know,” Charles says softly. “But that’s why you’re not alone in this. I’m here to remind you of that future when you can’t see it yourself.”

You lift your head again, meeting his gaze in the dim light. “Why are you doing all this for me? You barely know me.”

Charles is struck by the vulnerability in your eyes. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.

“Because when I saw you that day, something inside me just ... knew I had to help,” he says. “I can’t explain it rationally. But I believe that sometimes, people come into our lives for a reason. Maybe I’m meant to help you heal. Or maybe you’re meant to teach me something. I don’t know. But I do know that I want to be here for you, if you’ll let me.”

You study his face for a long moment, as if searching for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, you lay your head back on his chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says. “Just focus on healing. And remember, you’re not alone in this.”

You nod against his chest, and Charles can feel your body relaxing further. Your breathing becomes slower, more even, and he knows you’re drifting off to sleep.

As the night deepens around you, Charles finds himself wide awake, acutely aware of your warm presence against him. He’s never been in a situation quite like this before, and he’s surprised by how natural it feels.

He thinks about the past few days, about the small victories you’ve already achieved. The way your eyes lit up when you toured the university campus. The quiet determination in your voice when you asked about application procedures. The shy smile that appeared when he showed you around Monaco.

Charles knows the road ahead won’t be easy. There will likely be more nights like this, more nightmares to soothe. But looking down at your peaceful face, finally relaxed in sleep, he feels a surge of hope.

Whatever challenges lie ahead, he’ll be there to face them with you. And somehow, he knows that together, you’ll both come out stronger on the other side.

As the first light of dawn begins to creep through the windows, Charles finally feels his own eyes growing heavy. He allows himself to drift off, still holding you close, a silent promise of protection in his embrace.

In the quiet of the early morning, as the world outside begins to stir, there’s a sense of peace in the room. It’s fragile, perhaps, but it’s there. And for now, in this moment, it’s enough.

***

The first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Charles stirs, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He feels a weight against his chest and looks down to see you still nestled in his arms, your breathing deep and even.

For a moment, he simply watches you sleep, struck by how peaceful you look compared to the night before. He’s careful not to move, not wanting to disturb your rest. But as the room grows brighter, he sees your eyelids begin to flutter.

You blink awake, confusion briefly clouding your features before recognition sets in. “Charles?” You murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” he says softly, offering a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

You shift slightly, seeming to become aware of your position. A blush creeps across your cheeks as you pull back a bit. “I’m ... I’m okay,” you say. “I’m sorry about last night. You didn’t have to stay.”

Charles shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I wanted to stay. I’m just glad you were able to get some rest.”

You nod, running a hand through your tousled hair. “Thank you,” you say quietly. “For everything. I don’t know what I would have done if ...”

Your voice trails off, but Charles understands. “Hey,” he says, gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You don’t need to think about that. You’re here now, and you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You’re right. I just ... I’m not used to someone being so kind without expecting anything in return.”

Charles feels a pang in his chest at your words. “Well, get used to it,” he says, injecting a lightness into his tone. “Because that’s just how things work in the Leclerc household.”

You laugh softly, the sound warming Charles from the inside out. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” Charles grins. ��It’s in the contract. Kindness, comfort, and an abundance of croissants. Speaking of which, are you hungry? I could whip up some breakfast.”

You nod, sitting up slowly. “Breakfast sounds great. But you don’t have to cook. I can manage.”

Charles waves off your protest as he sits up as well. “Nonsense. I insist. Besides, I make a mean omelette. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried my secret recipe.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Secret recipe, huh? Do I get to know what’s in it?”

Charles taps the side of his nose conspiratorially. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, would it? You’ll just have to trust me.”

As he moves to get out of bed, a thought strikes him. He hesitates for a moment, then turns back to you. “Actually, before we head to the kitchen, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

You look at him curiously, a hint of apprehension in your eyes. “Oh?”

Charles takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous. “I was wondering if ... well, if you might want to come to my next race with me?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Your next race?”

Charles nods, watching your reaction carefully. “Yeah. It’s in a couple of weeks. I thought maybe a change of scenery might be good for you. Plus, you’d get to see what I do up close. But if it’s too soon, or if you’re not comfortable with the idea, I completely understand.”

You’re quiet for a moment, biting your lip as you consider his offer. “I don’t know,” you say hesitantly. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just ... the last time I was at a race ...”

Understanding dawns on Charles’s face. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, I should have thought of that. We don’t have to go if it brings up bad memories.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, it’s not that. Well, not entirely. It’s just ... I’m worried about being recognized. What if Jake sees me on TV or something?”

Charles leans forward, his expression serious. “Hey, look at me. If you come to the race, you’ll be under the full protection of the team. No one gets near the garage without proper clearance. And as for TV, well, we can make sure you’re not caught on camera if that’s what you want.”

You still look uncertain. “But won’t people wonder who I am? I don’t want to cause any trouble for you or your team.”

Charles can’t help but smile at your concern. “Trust me, the team has dealt with far more complicated situations than this. If anyone asks, we’ll simply say you’re a family friend. No one needs to know the details.”

He watches as you mull over his words, hope building in his chest. Finally, you look up at him, a small smile playing at your lips. “You really want me to come?”

Charles nods emphatically. “I really do. I think it could be good for you. A chance to create some new, positive memories associated with racing. Plus,” he adds with a grin, “I’d love for you to see me in action. I promise I’ll try to put on a good show.”

You laugh, the sound lightening the mood in the room. “Oh, is that so? Pretty confident, aren’t you?”

Charles shrugs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”

You shake your head in amusement, but Charles can see you’re still hesitating. “You don’t have to decide right now,” he says gently. “Take some time to think about it. The offer stands whenever you’re ready.”

You nod, looking grateful for the lack of pressure. “Thank you, Charles. I’ll think about it, I promise.”

“That’s all I ask,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Now, how about that breakfast? I believe I promised you a life-changing omelette.”

As you make your way to the kitchen, Charles can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows he’s taking a risk by inviting you to the race so soon, but something tells him it’s the right move. He’s seen glimpses of your strength over the past few days, and he believes that this could be a crucial step in your healing process.

In the kitchen, Charles busies himself with preparing breakfast, stealing glances at you as you settle at the counter. You still look a bit hesitant, but there’s a spark in your eyes that wasn’t there before.

“So,” he says as he cracks eggs into a bowl, “while you’re thinking about the race, why don’t you tell me more about your law studies? Any particular area you’re most interested in?”

You perk up at the question, and Charles listens intently as you launch into an enthusiastic explanation of your passion for human rights law. As he watches you speak, animated and engaged, he feels a warmth spread through his chest.

This, he thinks, is what healing looks like. Small steps, day by day, reclaiming pieces of yourself. And if he can play even a small part in that process, well, that’s a victory more satisfying than any podium finish.

As he serves up the omelettes, Charles makes a silent promise to himself. Whatever you decide about the race, whatever challenges lie ahead, he’ll be there. Supporting you, cheering you on, just as fiercely as any fan in the grandstands.

Because in this moment, watching you take your first bite and exclaim over his “secret recipe,” Charles realizes something important. In helping you find your strength, he’s discovering new depths of his own.

***

The energy in the paddock is electric as Charles makes his way to the Ferrari garage. He can feel the excitement buzzing through the air, the anticipation of the race to come. But today, there’s an extra flutter in his stomach that has nothing to do with pre-race jitters.

He spots you standing near the back of the garage, looking a bit overwhelmed by the flurry of activity around you. Your eyes light up when you see him, and he can’t help but smile.

“Hey,” he says, approaching you. “How are you holding up?”

You give him a small smile. “It’s ... a lot. But exciting. I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

Charles nods, understanding. “I know it can be overwhelming at first. But you’re doing great. And I have a little surprise for you.”

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity. “A surprise? Charles, you didn’t have to-”

He cuts you off with a grin. “I wanted to. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Charles leads you to a quieter corner of the garage where his race gear is laid out. He picks up his helmet, turning it so you can see the design.

Your eyes widen as you spot the purple ribbon painted prominently on the side. “Is that ...”

Charles nods, his expression softening. “A domestic violence awareness ribbon. I had it added for this race.”

You’re quiet for a moment, your fingers hovering over the ribbon without quite touching it. When you look up at Charles, your eyes are shining with unshed tears. “Why?” You ask softly.

Charles takes a deep breath. “Because I want to use my platform to raise awareness. And because ...” he pauses, meeting your gaze, “because I want you to know that you’re not alone. That there are people out there who care and want to help.”

You blink rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “Charles, I don’t know what to say. This is ... it’s incredible.”

He reaches out, gently squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know that when I’m out there on the track today, I’m racing for you and for everyone who’s been in your position.”

You nod, unable to speak. Charles understands the emotions you’re feeling — he’s feeling them too.

A voice calls out from across the garage. “Charles! Five minutes!”

Charles turns back to you. “I’ve got to go get ready. Will you be okay?”

You take a deep breath, composing yourself. “I’ll be fine. Go. And Charles?” You meet his eyes, a small smile on your face. “Thank you. For everything.”

He nods, giving your hand one last squeeze before heading off to finish his pre-race preparations.

The race itself is a blur of adrenaline and focus. Charles pushes himself to the limit, hyper-aware of the special helmet he’s wearing and what it represents. When he crosses the finish line in second place, his heart is pounding with more than just exertion.

As he pulls into parc fermé, Charles can see the crowd of reporters already gathering. He takes a deep breath, knowing what’s coming. Sure enough, as soon as he steps foot in the media pen, he’s surrounded by microphones and cameras.

“Charles! Congratulations on P2!” One reporter calls out. “But everyone’s talking about your helmet today. Can you tell us about the ribbon?”

Charles nods, his expression turning serious. “The ribbon on my helmet today is a symbol of awareness for domestic violence. It’s an issue that affects millions of people around the world, and I wanted to use this platform to bring attention to it.”

Another reporter jumps in. “Was there a specific reason you chose this race to highlight this cause?”

Charles pauses, carefully considering his words. “I believe that as public figures, we have a responsibility to use our voices for good. Domestic violence is a problem that often stays hidden, and I want to help bring it into the light.”

“Will the helmet be part of any specific initiative?” A third reporter asks.

Charles nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yes, actually. I’m going to be auctioning off this helmet, with all proceeds going to charities that combat domestic violence and support survivors.”

There’s a murmur of approval from the gathered press. “That’s a wonderful gesture,” one reporter says. “Can you tell us more about why this cause is so important to you?”

Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes briefly scanning the crowd. He spots you standing at the back, partially hidden behind a barrier. Your eyes meet, and he draws strength from your presence.

“It’s important because it’s a problem that affects so many people, yet it’s often overlooked or ignored,” Charles says, his voice steady and clear. “I ... I have seen firsthand the devastating impact it can have on someone’s life. And I want to do whatever I can to help break the cycle of violence and provide support for those who need it.”

There’s a moment of silence as the reporters absorb his words. Then the questions start flying again.

“Have you partnered with any specific organizations for this initiative?”

“Do you plan to continue raising awareness for this cause in future races?”

“How do you balance your focus on racing with your desire to address social issues?”

Charles answers each question thoughtfully, his passion for the cause evident in every word. As the press conference winds down, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride. Not just for his performance on the track, but for using his platform to make a difference.

As he makes his way back to the Ferrari garage, Charles spots you waiting for him. Your eyes are bright with emotion, and he can see the pride and gratitude written all over your face.

“That was amazing,” you say as he approaches. “I can’t believe you did all that.”

Charles shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “It was the least I could do. I hope it helps, even if it’s just a little bit.”

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “A little bit? Charles, do you have any idea how much impact something like this can have? You just brought attention to this issue in front of millions of people.”

He nods, the weight of what he’s done starting to sink in. “I just hope it makes a difference. That it helps someone out there feel less alone.”

You reach out, squeezing his hand. “It already has,” you say softly.

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, a voice calls out from behind him.

“Charles! A word?”

Charles turns to see a familiar face — Federica, a respected journalist he’s known for years. She approaches with a warm smile, notepad in hand.

“Federica,” Charles greets her. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” she replies. “That was quite a statement you made out there today. I was hoping we could talk a bit more about it. Off the record, if you prefer.”

Charles glances at you, silently asking if you’re okay with this. You nod encouragingly.

“Sure,” Charles says. “What would you like to know?”

Federica’s expression turns serious. “I’ve known you for a while now. This isn’t just a random cause you’ve picked up. There’s a personal connection here, isn’t there?”

Charles takes a deep breath, weighing his words carefully. He feels you shift closer to him, offering silent support.

“You’re right,” he says finally. “It is personal. I can’t go into details, but ... I’ve seen up close how devastating domestic violence can be. And I realized that I had an opportunity to do something about it.”

Federica nods, her eyes softening with understanding. “That’s very brave of you, Charles. Both to take this stand and to admit the personal connection. Can I ask what made you decide to do it now?”

Charles glances at you again, a small smile playing at his lips. “Let’s just say I’ve been inspired by someone very brave. Someone who showed me that it’s possible to turn pain into purpose.”

Federica follows his gaze, her eyebrows raising slightly as she notices you for the first time. “I see,” she says, a knowing look in her eye. “Well, I think what you’re doing is wonderful. And I would be happy to help spread the word about the helmet auction, if you’d like.”

Charles nods gratefully. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

As Federica walks away, Charles turns back to you. “I hope that was okay,” he says softly. “I didn’t want to say too much, but ...”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “It was perfect. Really. I ... I don’t know how to thank you for all of this.”

Charles reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to thank me. Seeing you here, seeing how far you’ve come ... that’s all the thanks I need.”

For a moment, you just look at each other, a wealth of unspoken emotions passing between you. Then, impulsively, you step forward and wrap your arms around Charles in a tight hug.

He returns the embrace without hesitation, holding you close. In that moment, surrounded by the noise and chaos of the paddock, Charles feels a sense of peace wash over him.

This, he thinks, is what really matters. Not the podiums or the points, but the ability to make a difference. To help someone heal and find their strength again.

As you pull back from the hug, Charles sees something new in your eyes. A spark of determination, of hope for the future. And he knows, without a doubt, that this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

***

The late afternoon sun streams through the windows of Charles’ Monaco apartment, warming the living room. Charles is sprawled on the couch, idly scrolling through his phone, when he hears a sudden gasp from the kitchen.

“Oh my god,” your voice carries through the apartment, a mix of shock and something else Charles can’t quite place.

He sits up, instantly alert. “Everything okay?” He calls out, already moving towards the kitchen.

You appear in the doorway, your face flushed and your eyes wide. You’re clutching your phone like a lifeline, and there’s an energy radiating from you that Charles has never seen before.

“I ... I got in,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles furrows his brow, confused for a moment before realization dawns. “The university? You heard back?”

You nod, a smile breaking across your face like the sun emerging from behind clouds. “I got in, Charles. They accepted me!”

The joy in your voice is infectious, and Charles feels his own face split into a grin. “That’s amazing!” He exclaims, stepping towards you. “I knew you could do it!”

What happens next seems to unfold in slow motion. You close the distance between you in two quick steps, and before Charles can process what’s happening, your lips are on his.

The kiss is brief, a burst of spontaneous happiness, but it sends a jolt through Charles’ entire body. For a split second, he’s frozen, his mind struggling to catch up with the reality of your lips against his.

But as quickly as it began, it’s over. You pull back abruptly, your eyes wide with shock at your own actions. “Oh god,” you stammer, taking a step back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ... I was just excited and I ...”

Charles can see the panic rising in your eyes, the fear that you’ve crossed a line. He wants to reassure you, to tell you that it’s okay, more than okay, but you’re already backing away, words tumbling out in a rush.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please don’t be mad, I-”

“Hey,” Charles cuts in gently, reaching out to catch your hand before you can retreat further. “Stop apologizing.”

You freeze, uncertainty written all over your face. “But I-”

Charles shakes his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact ...” he takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You ... you have?”

Charles nods, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “I have. But I didn’t want to rush you. I wanted to give you time to heal, to find yourself again.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing his words. “So you’re not ... upset?”

Charles can’t help but chuckle. “Upset? No, definitely not upset. More like ... thrilled. And maybe a little disappointed in myself for not making the first move.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Really?”

“Really,” Charles confirms. He takes a step closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “In fact, if you’re okay with it, I’d really like to kiss you again. Properly this time.”

You nod, a mix of nervousness and anticipation in your eyes. “I’d like that,” you whisper.

Charles leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to change your mind. But you don’t pull away. Instead, you meet him halfway, your lips connecting in a kiss that’s soft and sweet and full of promise.

This time, Charles is fully present in the moment. He savors the feeling of your lips against his, the warmth of your body as you step closer. His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

When you finally break apart, you’re both a little breathless. Charles rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing at his lips.

“Wow,” you murmur.

“Yeah,” Charles agrees. “Wow indeed.”

For a moment, you just stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Then Charles remembers what started all this.

“So,” he says, pulling back slightly to meet your eyes. “You got into law school. We should celebrate!”

You laugh, the sound light and carefree in a way Charles has never heard before. “I almost forgot about that for a second there.”

Charles grins. “Well, we can’t have that. It’s not every day you get accepted to study law at the International University of Monaco. This calls for champagne!”

He starts to move towards the kitchen, but you tug on his hand, pulling him back. “Wait,” you say softly. “Before we celebrate ... can we talk about this?” You gesture between the two of you.

Charles nods, his expression turning serious. “Of course. What do you want to know?”

You bite your lip, suddenly looking uncertain. “I just ... where do we go from here? I mean, I like you, Charles. A lot. But I’m still ... I’m still healing. And I don’t want to complicate things or ruin our friendship if-”

Charles cuts you off gently, taking both of your hands in his. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. When you meet his gaze, he continues. “I like you too. A lot. And I understand that you’re still healing. I don’t want to rush anything or pressure you in any way.”

You nod, relief evident in your eyes. “So what do we do?”

Charles smiles. “We take it slow. We keep being friends, but we also explore these new feelings. And most importantly, we communicate. If at any point you feel overwhelmed or want to slow things down, you tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, a small smile playing at your lips. “And what if ... what if I want to speed things up sometimes?”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. “Then we can do that too. As long as we’re both comfortable and on the same page.”

You nod, looking more relaxed now. “I think I can handle that.”

“Good,” Charles says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Now, about that champagne ...”

As Charles moves to the kitchen to fetch the bottle, he can’t help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. This thing between you is new and fragile, but it’s also full of potential. And he’s determined to nurture it, to give it the time and care it needs to grow into something beautiful.

He returns with two glasses and the champagne, finding you settled on the couch. As he pours, he can’t help but steal glances at you. There’s a glow about you that has nothing to do with the afternoon sun — it’s the light of new beginnings, of hope for the future.

“A toast,” Charles says, handing you a glass. “To new adventures in education and ... other areas.”

You laugh, clinking your glass against his. “To new adventures,” you agree.

As you sip the champagne, a comfortable silence falls between you. Charles finds himself marveling at how far you’ve come in the past few months. From the scared, broken woman he first met to this confident woman embarking on a new chapter of her life.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, noticing his contemplative expression.

Charles smiles. “Just ... how proud I am of you. You’ve come so far, and now you’re starting this new journey. It’s inspiring.”

You blush slightly at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without you, you know. Your support has meant everything.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Charles insists. “But I’m glad I could help. And I’ll be here to support you through your studies too. Although,” he adds with a grin, “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be with law textbooks.”

You laugh, leaning into him slightly. “I’m sure you’ll find ways to be helpful. Moral support is important too, you know.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I’m your man. Moral support is my specialty.”

As the afternoon fades into evening, you and Charles talk about everything and nothing. You discuss your hopes for university, your fears, your dreams for the future. Charles shares stories from his racing career, anecdotes he’s never told anyone else.

And through it all, there’s a new undercurrent of electricity between you. A spark ignited by that spontaneous kiss, fueled by the promise of something more.

As the sky outside turns a deep indigo, Charles finds himself marveling at the unexpected turns life can take. A few months ago, he was just a driver focused on his next win. Now, he’s sitting here with you, on the cusp of something that feels bigger and more important than any championship.

“What are you smiling about?” You ask, noticing his expression.

Charles pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Just thinking about how sometimes the best things in life are the ones you never see coming.”

You snuggle into his side, a contented sigh escaping you. “I couldn’t agree more.”

***

Five Years Later

The sun shines brightly on the streets of Monaco as Charles stands before a modest but elegant building, his heart swelling with pride. He glances at you, standing beside him in a crisp power suit, your eyes sparkling with excitement and determination. It’s a look he’s come to know well over the past five years, but today it seems to shine even brighter.

“Are you ready for this?” Charles asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You turn to him, a radiant smile spreading across your face. “I’ve been ready for this my whole life,” you reply, your voice steady and sure.

Charles feels a surge of love and admiration wash over him. He remembers the scared, broken woman he met all those years ago, and marvels at the strong, confident woman you’ve become. His wife. His partner in every sense of the word.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice calls out, drawing their attention to the small crowd gathered before them. “We are here today to celebrate the grand opening of the Leclerc Center for Domestic Violence Support and Legal Aid.”

A round of applause breaks out, and Charles feels you squeeze his hand tighter. He knows how much this moment means to you, how hard you’ve worked to make it a reality.

The speaker, a distinguished-looking woman in her fifties, continues. “This center represents a beacon of hope for those who have suffered in silence, a promise that they are not alone, and that help is available. And we have two very special people to thank for making this dream a reality.”

She gestures towards Charles and you. “Charles and Y/N, would you like to say a few words before we cut the ribbon?”

Charles looks at you, silently asking if you want to speak first. You nod, stepping forward with the confidence of someone who has found their true calling.

“Thank you all for being here today,” you begin, your voice clear and strong. “This center is more than just a building. It’s a promise. A promise to every person out there who’s suffering in an abusive relationship that there is hope, there is help, and there is a way out.”

Charles watches you speak, feeling a swell of pride. He remembers the countless late nights you spent poring over law books, the tears of frustration and determination as you fought your way through law school. And now here you are, a fully qualified attorney, using your hard-earned skills to help others who were once in your position.

“I stand here today not just as a lawyer, not just as the co-founder of this center, but as someone who has been where many of our future clients are right now,” you continue, your voice wavering slightly with emotion. “I know the fear, the doubt, the feeling of being trapped. But I also know the incredible strength that lies within each survivor. And it is my deepest hope that this center will help them find that strength, just as I did.”

As you step back, wiping a tear from your eye, Charles pulls you into a quick, supportive hug before stepping forward himself.

“When I met my wife five years ago,” he begins, his voice thick with emotion, “I was just a driver who thought he had it all figured out. But she opened my eyes to a world I knew little about, and showed me that sometimes the most important battles are the ones fought off the track.”

He pauses, looking out at the crowd. He sees familiar faces — fellow drivers who’ve supported this project, team members who’ve become like family, and new faces too — survivors, advocates, people who believe in the mission of this center.

“This center is a dream that we’ve shared for years,” Charles continues. “A dream of creating a safe space where survivors can find legal support, counseling, and most importantly, hope. And while I may not be the one providing legal advice,” he adds with a chuckle, earning a laugh from the crowd, “I promise to support this center and its mission in every way I can.”

He turns to you, his eyes shining with love and admiration. “And to my incredible wife, who has been the driving force behind all of this — thank you. For your strength, your determination, and for showing me what true courage looks like every single day.”

As Charles steps back, the crowd erupts in applause. You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as the official hands you a large pair of scissors.

“Are you ready to do the honors?” The official asks.

You and Charles share a look, years of unspoken understanding passing between you in that moment. Together, you step forward, positioning the scissors at the purple ribbon stretched across the entrance.

“On the count of three,” the official announces. “One ... two ... three!”

With a satisfying snip, the ribbon falls away. The crowd cheers, and cameras flash as you and Charles stand before the open doors of the center, your shared dream finally a reality.

As the crowd begins to file inside for the reception, you turn to Charles, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “We did it,” you whisper. “We really did it.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, not caring about the cameras still flashing around them. “You did it,” he murmurs into your hair. “I just followed your lead.”

You pull back, shaking your head with a fond smile. “We’re a team, remember?”

Charles laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “How could I forget?”

As you make your way inside, greeting guests and answering questions, Charles finds himself reflecting on the journey that brought you both to this moment. The ups and downs, the challenges and triumphs, all leading to this day.

A familiar face approaches — Federica, the journalist who had interviewed Charles after that fateful race five years ago. “Charles, Y/N,” she greets you warmly. “Congratulations on this amazing achievement. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

You nod, your professional demeanor sliding into place. “Of course. What would you like to know?”

“This center is quite different from the usual celebrity charity projects,” Federica begins. “Can you tell me what inspired you to take such a hands-on approach?”

You and Charles share a look, silently deciding who should answer. Charles gives a small nod, encouraging you to take the lead.

“For us, this isn’t about charity in the traditional sense,” you explain. “It’s about using our resources and platform to create real, tangible change. As a survivor myself, I know firsthand how crucial legal support can be in escaping an abusive situation. But I also know how intimidating and overwhelming the legal system can seem.”

Charles watches as you speak, marveling at your eloquence and passion. He remembers the early days of your relationship, when you would sometimes struggle to find your voice. Now, you command the room with ease.

“Our goal with this center,” you continue, “is to provide comprehensive support — legal aid, counseling, practical assistance — all under one roof. We want to remove as many barriers as possible for those seeking help.”

Federica nods, scribbling in her notepad. “And Charles,” she turns to him, “how do you see your role in all of this?”

Charles straightens, his expression serious. “My role is to support this center and its mission in every way I can. Whether that’s using my platform to raise awareness, helping to secure funding, or simply being here to show that everyone can and should be allies in this fight against domestic violence.”

You reach for his hand, giving it a squeeze. Charles feels a surge of gratitude for your unwavering support, both in this project and in his career.

“And how do you balance this work with racing?” Federica asks.

Charles smiles. “It’s all about priorities. Racing is my passion, but this center, and the work we do here, that’s my purpose. I’m fortunate to have a team and sponsors who understand and support that.”

As Federica thanks the two of you and moves on to speak with other guests, Charles turns to you. “You were amazing,” he says softly. “I’m so proud of you.”

You lean into him slightly, a soft smile playing at your lips. “We were amazing,” you correct him. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

Before Charles can respond, another guest approaches, asking for a tour of the facilities. As you lead the way, explaining the various services the center will offer, Charles hangs back slightly, simply observing.

He watches as you point out the private consultation rooms, the children’s play area designed to make the center welcoming for families, the state-of-the-art security systems put in place to ensure client safety. Your eyes light up as you describe the pro bono legal services, the partnerships with local shelters and support groups, the education and prevention programs you hope to implement.

In this moment, seeing you in your element, Charles is struck anew by how far you’ve both come. From that terrifying night in the paddock to this day of hope and new beginnings, it’s been a journey neither of you could have anticipated.

As the day winds down and the last of the guests depart, Charles finds you standing in the main reception area, looking around with a mix of awe and determination.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You lean into him, letting out a contented sigh. “I was just thinking about all the lives we’re going to change here. All the people we’re going to help.”

Charles presses a kiss to your temple. “You’ve already changed so many lives, you know. Including mine.”

You turn to face him, your eyes shining with love and gratitude. “We’ve changed each other’s lives. And now we get to pay it forward.”

As Charles looks at you, his partner in every sense of the word, he knows that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. Just as you always have.

“Ready to go home?” He asks softly.

You nod, taking one last look around the center. “Yes,” you say, your voice filled with quiet determination. “But we’ll be back bright and early tomorrow. We’ve got work to do.”

Charles smiles, taking your hand as you walk towards the exit. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[radiance1]

ANOTHER little tidbit for this stupid lil thing.

The Batfam believe that Damian is a meta of some kind.

Why?

Because of Danny.

Danny acts like the eyes on the back of Damian's head, which Damian is able to just explain away enough that he has great spatial awareness. Cool, yea, they could take that. The fact that the temperature drops whenever Damian is around? Okay, that's somewhat alarming.

How he's able to stay in the air for just a second too long that always him to hit the ground safely? How a few times he looked like he was briefly stopped in said air before being let down?

That's... A bit hard to explain but the Batfam aren't going to pry considering he was new to the family.

How he never seems to need to charge his phone, or any other electronic device? Of course, it could be explained away that he just charges them in his room or out of sight... If his charger didn't look like it wasn't used at all, that is.

Just... Various little things that Damian could explain away, but keep piling up until the entire family comes to the conclusion that Damian was a meta, if the League and Damian himself knew this or not is the question.

Alfred finds out that such is not the case.

Why?

Because Danny, absolute child that he was and still is since his death, very much loves Alfred's cookies (and who doesn't.) and got impatient to get some and couldn't wait for Damian to swipe some more for him (since Alfred forbade Damian from taking anymore before the rest could get any).

Alfred was the only one who entered the kitchen at the time, and it did indeed puzzle him to see cookies disappearing into thin air.

[split-spectrum]

YOU'VE GOT TO LEARN

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tags: extremely dubious consent, non-con elements, explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, age gap, established relationship, jealousy, possessive!joel, softdom!joel, unprotected sex, alcohol, hair pulling

Length: 3.3K

Summary: At a client's house party, you catch yourself getting jealous of other eyes on Joel. Joel pulls you aside to show you exactly what he thinks of that.

This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, so please go easy on me <3

☆☆☆

What is it about Joel that makes him most attractive when he's stuck somewhere he doesn't want to be?

You tip back the last of your whiskey sour, gazing at the tight creases in the corners of his eyes as he nods along with the blond guy who's been talking for twenty painful minutes about the crypto market. Joel is leaning back, arms folded over his chest, his big shoulders pushing at the seams of his denim shirt.

He once told you that no one besides you could tell his emotions on his face. You'd laughed and called bullshit at the time, telling him every thought in that pretty head of his showed up plain as day on his face, but right now it doesn't seem to matter. He's been looking like he'd swallowed glass since this guy started talking, and it doesn't seem to make a bit of difference to him.

When Joel had asked if you wanted to come along to the holiday party one of his clients was having at his house, you'd said yes even after hearing that the guy was 'kind of an idiot' and you'd probably be 'bored to tears'. Joel would have skipped it, but unfortunately it was one of his biggest clients, and the invitation wasn't one he could politely decline.

Right now, though, you're sort of wishing you'd listened to him. The party stopped being fun somewhere around the second MLM scheme that had been pitched to you, and you're now counting the minutes until you'll hit the mark Joel set on the drive there: "Least a couple hours - then we can head out."

The guy takes a short pause, then launches into another tirade on bitcoin, and you realize you're going to need another drink to get through it. Joel's arm slips from around your waist as you pull away.

"Be right back, fellas. I'm going to get a refill."

Joel's brows lift as you leave him behind. "Now hold on there. Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let you get your own drink-"

You wave him off, trying to hold in a smirk. "No really, I need to take a lap. Stretch my legs."

He licks his lips, looks off to the side for a second before calling after you, "Grab me one on your way back, will ya?"

You smile innocently. "You got it."

After your host declines your offer to get him something, you head to the kitchen, making a little chit chat on your way to the well-stocked fridge. You decide to get Joel's beer before you return to the open bar to ask for another drink of your own. You hook your knuckles around the neck of a Modelo, no sooner closing the door to the fridge before you glance back in Joel's direction, seeing he's been joined by a few more people.

It isn't surprising. Joel's the type of guy who tends to draw attention, and not just because of his looks. He's the guy who's in charge, even when he's not in charge. People gravitate toward him; just something about his presence that makes him the most interesting thing in every room.

In spite of that, your attention isn't on him at the moment. It's on the girl making moon eyes beside him. She's tossing a long, shiny ponytail behind her shoulder and grinning ear to ear despite the fact that bitcoin boy hasn't stopped talking.

Picking up a bottle opener, you pop the cap off the beer in your hand by muscle memory, not able to tear your eyes off of them. Joel's attention is still on the host, but when she says something to him, you watch him pull his chin back to nod, holding her in the corner of his eye to give a quick smile.

Kelly, you remember. That's her name. She's the receptionist at the client's office, and she's probably seen more of Joel this month than you have.

You watch as she cranks up her smile another thousand watts, laughing at something one of the other guys in the group has said. Kelly, you think. No. Probably spells it with an i. Kelli. Probably dots it with a heart.

Your face is starting to warm up, and when someone on the other side of the kitchen counter gently asks if you're alright, you clear your throat, then reply that you're fine as you quickly open the fridge for a second Modelo. It's time for you to slow down on the whiskey.

As you make your way back to the group, you catch Kelly/Kelli's eyes and give her a subdued smile. She blinks and smiles back, suddenly looking very shy.

"Now what did I miss?" you ask, when the men dissolve into laughter.

Henry, one of the contractors under Joel, shakes his head. "It ain't worth repeating in the presence of a lady."

The host interjects, "So what do you call Kelly?"

Henry puts an arm around her shoulder. "Aw, she's heard it all before, haven'tcha?"

"That don't mean she wants to hear it from you!" one of the other men shouts, and there's another round of laughter while you bite your lip, watching Joel's eyes as they dip to Henry's arm.

You wrap your lips around the tip of the bottle in your hand, letting the taste of the beer give your mouth an excuse to look sour. Henry's hand is dropping from Kelly's shoulder down to her waist, and while the conversation carries on, Joel leans in close so that only Henry - and you - can hear.

"Cool it, Henry."

"Huh?" comes the slow reply, as he pretends not to have understood him.

Joel just lifts his brows, and that's all it takes for Henry to back off, looking a little sheepish as he unwinds himself from Kelly, who looks more than a little relieved.

Henry turns to you, suddenly trying to make small talk, to save face. "Have you two met? This's our girl Kelly. She takes good care of us, don'tcha, sweetheart?"

You give a polite smile. "We've met. Nice to see you, again. Both of you."

"Uh huh," Henry answers half-heartedly before he wanders off, perhaps to join another conversation, or just to find another drink.

Kelly gives you another polite smile, then as the host starts to back away, bringing the rest of the group with him, she goes along with the crowd. Before she leaves, though, she softly murmurs to Joel, "Thanks for that."

He answers with a stiff nod, but it's more than enough to put the stars back in her eyes as she walks away, leaving the two of you alone.

You're biting your lip again, practically chewing on it, as you dangle Joel's beer by the throat, handing it over to him.

"Thank you," he says, then tips it back immediately.

You don't reply, lost in thought, but pretending nonchalance as you watch the group leave.

"Meant what I said, though," Joel adds in your silence. "Shoulda let me get it. I don't like to have you wanderin' around on your own. Not with this bunch of degenerates."

You smirk. "What, like Henry?"

"For one, yeah," he says, turning to face you now that the sounds of the party are fading into the background. "Lookin' the way you do, won't be able to keep their eyes or their hands off ya."

You laugh him off, but can't pretend that his voice isn't settling right in the bottom of your stomach. He's standing a little closer, now, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with the spice of his cologne. Something about him talking this way puts some boldness into you, and your words come out a bit more reckless than they should.

"Well, maybe you should have asked Kelly to get your drink, then."

He looks dumbfounded for a moment, and you widen your smile to show you're joking.

"I mean, I'm sure she would have," you go on, digging yourself deeper even as your heart kicks up faster. If you'd switched to beer two drinks ago, you probably would have explained yourself better. You would have insisted it was just a joke, because she so clearly has a crush on him. But your words are just swimming in all that whiskey.

"Cute little thing like that," you say, shrugging. "Probably don't mind her 'taking care of you', do ya?"

Joel's eyes are fixed on you, voice easing down into his chest when he asks softly, warningly, "What did you just say?"

He's turned all the way toward you, and all at once the room feels so much smaller, your face so much hotter. He's waiting for an answer, and your breath is caught high in your throat. "I-uh... it was just... nothing."

He's very slowly setting down his beer, looking down to a side table. "Wasn't nothing; I heard it." He looks back up at you, pinning you hard where you stand. "Now repeat it. Wanna make sure I heard you right."

You swallow, mouth dry. "I nn-nothing, I just said..." You force a crooked smile that you know he isn't buying for a second. "Y'know... she's- she's pretty cute, and maybe you... maybe she oughta... 'cause maybe you want her to..."

Your babbling doesn't impress him. He's just staring at you under a darkened brow. He opens his mouth to say something, but the motion of someone else entering the room catches your eye and you snap defensively before he can say anything.

"Joel, I didn't mean-"

He follows your gaze, then turns away and shuts you up with a wide, heavy palm sliding to the small of your back. "C'mere," he says. "C'mon." And the way he breathes it as he guides you out of the room and down the hall, you don't argue.

He finds a bathroom and pushes you inside. While you're looking over his shoulder to make sure no one sees you going in together, he's staring straight ahead, and he closes the door with one hand, still holding you with the other.

"I'm... sorry," you confess as soon as the door closes. "That was stupid. I don't know why I said it."

"Yeah," he grunts, crowding you up against the closed door. "You do."

The way he has you held close, arm around your waist and words warm against your mouth, you'd normally try to kiss him right about now. But looking into his eyes, you know there's no kiss waiting for you on his lips.

He's mad, and you're a little scared. Not scared of him, but scared of what he might do at a party where people might hear. People that he has to work with on Monday.

He isn't drunk, but he's had a few, and your fear ratchets up when his hand slides to your backside, gripping your ass and kneading it as he growls, "You think I give a goddamn about some teenager?"

Despite the way he's manhandling you through your dress, you can't help but roll your eyes. "She's not a teenager."

She isn't really that much younger than you are. And with Joel in his fifties, the thought has crossed your mind that he might just be keeping you around because he got a thing for younger women. You'd just never said anything out loud. Until tonight.

He stops, pulls back. "Alright, guess I'm not bein' clear enough."

He takes you by both arms, pushes you against the sink so you're looking at yourself in the mirror. Behind you, he starts unbuckling his belt.

"Joel..." you whisper, heat pulsing through you just from the sound of the metal clinking. You know you should ask him to stop - is the door even fucking locked? - but you can't get any other words out besides his name.

He slides a hand under your dress, pushing it up and over the swell of your ass. He doesn't slow down, doesn't even run his hand over your skin. He just pushes your panties to the side, pressing the head of his cock right up against your pussy, holding it there as he grits against your ear, "Guess I gotta show you where I want to be."

He pushes the thick head inside you, wrapping one arm around your stomach to keep you from falling forward. His other hand is flat on the sink, not playing with you, not easing anything. He doesn't give you any prep, just shoves in slowly, his cock stretching you all in one go.

You hiss, brow pinching. He didn't even let you get wet enough to take him. You can feel every damn move he makes inside you as he shifts his hips closer to pin you hard against the cold edge of the sink. When he's all the way in, you watch your mouth pop open in the mirror as you take a few panting breaths. The stretch is almost unbearable, but feeling so full of him, you don't want to stop.

He eases out, just a couple inches to coat himself in your slick, then presses back in even harder. You feel like your lungs are going to give out from how tight your gasps are getting.

"Fuck, Joel... hurts," you whine.

He slowly slides you off of him, then feeds it right back in.

"I know it does, honey," he breathes against your neck. "I know it does."

His deep voice makes you pulse around his cock and he drags his big, calloused hand down to the front of your dress, lifting it up just far enough to see your pussy, stuffed full of him. You're leaking down the sides of his cock, glistening in the dim light of the bathroom.

"See that?" he asks, unmoving. "That's where I wanna be. You hear me?"

Giving a shaky nod of your head, you whimper, "Yes."

He starts to piston in and out of you, and you can only watch. You close your eyes tight when he speeds up a little. "It's... mm- it's too much."

He doesn't change his pace. "Ain't about feelin' good. You've got to learn."

He groans when your pussy clenches around him, and you follow with an answering moan as the tension in your muscles starts to fade. You're soaking down both sides of your inner thighs as he opens you up further.

When you've dissolved into whimpering his name, he hooks one arm around your leg from behind, lifting it up so that you're spread wider. His other hand is still holding up your dress.

"Look at that," he grunts, making an obscene display of his cock fucking into your pussy. "Look how fucking hard you make me, baby."

You whine again, struck dumb by how good he feels with every snap of his hips. "God, feels so good... please..."

He's dragging his teeth against your neck when he replies, "Please?"

"Please, Joel. Feels so fucking good," you repeat, eyes closed.

You want him to fuck you properly, to bend you over and make you take him, to use his fingers - to let you use yours - anything; it doesn't matter. You're so worked up, you just need a little more.

"M'not gonna give you what you want, darlin'," he answers. "Don't work like that."

You can't help but loose a plaintive moan, even knowing you deserve it. "Baby, please-"

He drops your knee, letting your leg come down to the floor as he bends you over the sink. When he starts to fuck you for real, you can't hold it together anymore, softly pleading and whining for more, begging him not to stop, opening your eyes to watch him in the mirror as he starts to lose himself, too.

Until a knock at the door jars you right out of it.

"Is anybody in there?"

Joel doesn't even slow down. Just flattens his palm along your lower back to bend you back over after you jolt up.

"Joel-" you hiss. But he keeps giving you exactly what you need, and your eyes roll back.

"Hello?"

He slides a warm hand down the open neckline of your dress, kneading your breast as he looks at you in the mirror. His brown eyes are stern and steady. "Answer."

He keeps feeding you his cock, and you hiccup, legs shaking as you whisper, "I- I don't..."

"Go on and tell 'em. You're busy."

Fuck fuck fuck. "Uhh, s-someone's in here!"

Your voice comes out strained and airy, and you wait for the reply while Joel kisses the skin of your shoulder, sliding the front of your dress down.

"Joel, it's... somebody is..."

"Nothin' in here that I wanna hide," he growls, pushing his hips right up against your ass as he circles a thumb around one of your nipples.

"Fuck, Joel..." The silence outside has been long enough that the person is probably gone, but your pulse is still pounding, and he's making it so fucking hard to think. "Oh my god, yes..."

He's quietly panting, lifts his head long enough to say, "Understand now, pretty girl?"

"Mm..."

"This here's right where I wanna be. Nowhere else," he grunts, pressing his weight down on you, the squelching sounds between your bodies getting louder than your moans. Your eyes are drawn up to the mirror, watching the veins in his neck tighten as he fucks into you harder and harder. "You got it?"

You frantically nod, desperately near the edge of coming. "Fuck, yes, mhm..."

"Maybe I oughta fill you up right here, leave you with somethin' to think about."

"N-no," you stutter, almost sounding like you're sobbing your words. "P-please, I get it. I heard what you s-said."

He has to let you come. You don't care that you were acting up, making something out of nothing. You don't care what got him mad at you. All you can think about is how flushed his chest is beneath the open collar of his shirt, how tight his grip is, how stiff his jaw is set. You just want to listen to that throaty growl, feel him mercilessly fucking you a little while longer. That's all it would take. Just a little bit...

"Fuck-"

Joel pulls out, hand tightening into a fist around himself. You slump against the sink.

"Goddamn, baby. Almost got me, there."

You're on the verge of tears, shuddering with wild breaths. "No, fuck, Joel, please please please-"

He grips a handful of your ass, fingers brushing through your wetness and making you whimper.

"Told you, I ain't giving you what you want."

You hear him zip up his jeans, and then his hand is back at your ass, but this time he's pulling your panties back into place and tugging your dress down.

"Never gonna learn that way."

You whine pitifully, knowing you brought this on yourself, but still pleading under your breath, face drawn tight with frustration.

He helps you stand up properly, giving you his arm to steady yourself. You straighten your dress, cleaning up your appearance in the mirror, and eventually you're able to leave the bathroom, walking out on trembling legs.

He gives you a smirk as you leave the hallway, and something in you finally snaps. Maybe it's a little unfair, but you know exactly what to say to knock that smirk off his face.

You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Guess you didn't want me that bad after all, or you would have finished."

And all of ten minutes later, you're in the cab of his truck. You're screaming his name as you come all over his cock, hands fisted in his hair, tugging it hard while he pumps you full of his cum, cursing you the whole time.

Turns out, he's the one who's never gonna learn.

--

A/N: Thanks for reading! I don't have a taglist for Joel, but I'll add one if I ever write for him again. Hope you enjoyed! :)

Masterlist

[allllium]

Just an Accident

~ Jason todd x reader who was accidentally hurt

~ Fluff, Jason being dramatic, WC:

~ Inspired by @mostly-imagines

[Thank you guys for being so patient while I finished this and thank you for all likes 💓💓 I really wasn't expecting anything till this was finished. Hope this meets your expectations <3]

Jason tried really hard to keep his secret secret from you but let's be honest, he's very obvious about it. Especially once you meet his family.

After he finally came clean to you about everything, he became even more protective. More protective than you ever thought possible.

He would freak out anytime he didn't know where you were or if you got hurt in any way.

"I'm so so sorry." Bruce says, following you through the mansion repeating his apology.

"It's okay, Bruce, it was an accident." You reply, "I should've known."

Honestly there was no way you could've known that Bruce was creating some elaborate booby trap on the kitchen counter that would fail and smack you in the face when you walked into the kitchen.

It didn't hurt too bad, luckily Bruce was testing things with plastic and not the real materials.

From the look of it though, you'll definitely have a mark on your nose and possibly a bruise under your eye.

"I had no idea it was gonna do that." He continues defending, knowing how Jason will react.

"It's fine, I swear. I know you wouldn't do that on purpose." You walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. Bruce sits next to you.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks. Obviously freaking out.

"No, it's alright. It really doesn't hurt."

"Oh shit." You hear Dick gasp. Coming in through the front door with Tim.

"Oh, what did you do!?" Tim asks, "Jason is gonna kill you."

"It was an accident, everything is fine." You try to calm everyone down.

Seeing that you're okay, Dick can't hold back his laugh.

"Wow, Jason is never gonna trust you again Bruce." Tim hits Dick on the arm and rolls his eyes. To the side of you, Bruce leans forward to hold his head in his hands.

"I think you guys are being a little dramatic. Jason isn't gonna kill him."

"No you seriously underestimate how Jason will react to this." Tim tells you.

"Yeah, remember he almost killed me for making jokes about you when you first got together."

"What?" You turn to Dick in confusion, "I don't remember that."

"Not important," he waves it off, "The point is, we need a plan."

"A plan for what?"

"A plan to hide this from Jason" He tells you, in a tone that screams obvious.

"How would I do that, Dick? I live with him."

"I don't know yet, that's why we need a plan!" He exclaims, pacing in front of the couch.

You roll your eyes, "You're being dramatic."

"No he's not." Bruce says. You fall back into the couch and cross your arms over chest.

"Bruce please. I need at least one of other person here to be an adult."

You can hear Tim laughing as he sits in the chair next to the couch.

"Well, he's right. Jason's gonna be pissed." Bruce shakes his head at you. He stands from the couch and starts pacing with Dick.

"They're gonna make me lose my mind." You mumble under your breath. You run your hands over your face, this childish behavior you're watching isn't what you were expecting from Batman and Nightwing.

Okay to be honest you were definitely expecting this from Dick.

Tim leans over to whisper to you, "You should make a break for it, they're too busy plotting to notice you leave."

"Let me guess," you whisper back, "you've had to make a break for it a couple times?"

"More than you know." He shakes him head and has a serious look on his face.

"Well, have fun with that." You laugh and walk out the front door. Tim was right, both the guys were so busy trying to figure out how to hide you from Jason, they totally forgot to hide you.

You rush home to meet Jason. You were supposed to meet for dinner but obviously you got a little distracted.

"Hey baby." You sigh when you walk through the door. Jason is in the kitchen cooking dinner. Whatever he chose to make, made the whole room smell amazing.

"Hey. What took you so long?"

"I stopped by the mansion to borrow that thing from Alfred but he wasn't there." You tell him, referencing some cooking tool you wanted to make desert for after dinner.

"Where did he go?" You want into the kitchen to see him while you talk.

"I have no idea. I got distracted by something Bruce was doing." You walk over and take a piece of food that he's cutting.

Without looking, he softly smacks your hand away.

"Rude." You laugh.

"This is my sacred space." He puts the knife down and gestures over the whole counter.

"You're ridiculous." You laugh again and kiss him on the cheek.

"How dare you." He puts his hand on his chest in fake offense. Only then does he turn to actually look at you. "What happened?" He immediately asks.

"Oh it's fine, just got smacked with some plastic " Which is apparently not the answer he wanted.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He grabs your face gently and examines the marks on your face.

"It means I got hit with some plastic. But it doesn't hurt." You quickly explain, but he doesn't let go of your face or stop freaking out.

"What plastic?"

"Bruce was experimenting with something and it didn't work."

"He did this?" He lets go off your face to run his hands over his own.

"It was accident. He wouldn't hurt me on purpose and you know that."

"I don't care if it was an accident, you're hurt."

"Jason." You say firmly. He's obviously surprised considering you never use his name to address him. "An accident is an accident and you're not gonna hold this against Bruce. He already apologized and clearly felt bad."

"But you're hurt" He pouts.

You step forward and wrap your arms over his shoulders. "It doesn't hurt. It was just some plastic."

"It left a mark."

"I promise I'm okay. And I want you to promise you won't hurt Bruce for this." You look right into his eyes and do your best to give him a puppy dog look. Which isn't necessary because he can't say no to you anyway.

"Fine I promise I won't hurt him." He presses his forehead to yours, "I'd rather leave him to stew in fear anyway."

You chuckle at his words. "As long as no real harm comes to him I won't stop you from having fun."

"Good." He kisses you once and heads back to make dinner. You have no doubt Jason would ever actually hurt Bruce over something so small but you'd rather be safe than sorry.

Hopefully this'll stop Dick and Bruce acting like absolutely children in the future.

Yeah that'll never happen.

Not even 10 minutes after finishing dinner you get a call from Dick.

"How dare you?" He asks the moment you answer the phone. "You're a traitor."

"Again with the dramatics Dick. You can't stop me from going home."

"Let me guess Jason's on his way here to get some revenge right now." He says in a very childish and fearful tone.

"No! I was right, you guys are way more dramatic than you should be and he has no intention of killing anyone." Jason looks at you as you talk to his brother. Clearly wondering what he has to do with this situation.

"I don't believe you. You've shown where your loyalty lies."

"Why are you talking like I'm an enemy or something?"

"Maybe you are! How should I know?"

"Okay you're right." You decide to play along, "I couldn't stop him from wanting to kill Bruce, he's on his way there right now."

Jason furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"I knew it! Mark my words one day-"

His voice cuts off when you hang up.

"There is something severely wrong with your entire family." You tell Jason with a blank face.

"Yeah I know." He puts his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into him.

Hmm you wonder how long it takes till Dick realizes you lied.

[ellecdc]

Hey gorg!!!

I saw the post about wanting pregnant reader/ dad marauders prompts and I literally ran here.

I’ve got two ideas, so whichever gives you the most inspiration/ whatever you like best 😂

1- pregnant!reader who just hits her limit for the day- overwhelmed and overstimulated with everything to the point she jsut wants to sit and cry- all because of something silly

Or!!

2- reader on their first day away from baby with the girls- leaving dad!marauders to it, coming back to a baby who’s very excited to be free from the chaos of the boys.

Lots of love!!

-🥟

eeeeeeeek I went with #2!!! thank you my love <3

dad!marauders x mum!reader who saves their daughter from the boys' tyranny [522 words]

CW: kid fic, fem!reader, you have a daughter but I avoided assigning her a name (let me know how ya'll prefer that: do you want me to name the kid? or do you want me to leave it ambiguous? I feel like it would probably read easier/more naturally with an assigned name, but I understand if you like making that up yourself)

“Oh thank gods you’re home.” Sirius pushed out all in one breath as he hastily stood from the couch with your daughter in hand. 

You clicked the door shut behind you as you took your shoes off, furrowing your brows at a frazzled looking Sirius and an equally frazzled looking baby in his arms. 

“You have to help us.” He begged quickly. “They’re driving us mad.”

“What?” You laughed carefully, though you had to admit that your child had a nearly identical pout on her lips as her papa, and you were quite sure babies her age didn’t have the ability to conspire. 

Though, you were sure if any baby could conspire, it would be a baby Marauder. 

“They haven’t stopped all day.” Sirius enunciated, whispering at you and looking over his shoulder as if some invisible threat was going to attack at any given moment. “Jamie got up this morning on a warpath; first we went on a family walk to feed the ducks some corn. Fine, I’ll let it slide. We no sooner got home, and Moony set up the sandbox in the yard. Great. But then, James insisted we go to the park! Which - okay, that was fun, because I got to run around as Padfoot. But then after a mere 20 minute nap, Remus had us out at the stream catching and releasing frogs!”

You awed in sympathy as you brushed some fine hair away from your baby girl’s forehead who was using her two pudgy hands to rub at her eyes.

“You tired, lovie?” You asked the child, but they both whined a yes in response. 

“Okay.” You murmured as you accepted the sleepy child’s grabby hands, only for her to immediately rest her head on your shoulder and melt into your embrace.

“Pads? Where’d you guys run off to?” James called from the other room, and Sirius’ paled. “We’ve got the water table set up.”

“Oh gods,” Sirius whimpered, “they’re coming.”

“Sirius,” you started to chide, but he simply turned and started pushing you towards the hall that led to the bedrooms.

“Go, save yourselves. I’ll hold them off.” He whispered theatrically.

“Sirius!” You squealed, laughing as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head - taking a deep breath as if he was trying to memorise your scent like he may never get the chance to do it again - and pat at your hip. 

“Make sure our baby girl grows up knowing the sacrifices her brave, brave papa made for her.” He offered solemnly, walking backwards as he held your gaze. “Go! Nap! Rest! Waste the day away in ways many of us only dream!” 

You giggled at him as he disappeared around the corner, hearing Remus murmur “what the hell was all that about?” only to hear a grunt, a chuckle, and a theatric “I won’t let you tyrannise our sweet girls any longer!”

“What do you say, sweetheart? Time for a nap?” You murmured as you made your way towards your bedroom; a nap did sound appealing, now that you thought about it. 

An answer never came, however; she was already fast asleep.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

eyes on the prize

a/n: me writing a fic where rafe is actually wholesome and nice? i didn't see it coming either... this idea just came to me when you were all voting for the kinktober fic a while ago, and i was prepping that it maybe could go in this direction and then ended up falling too much in love with the fantasy, so i simply had to get it out of my system.

summary: “in a week, when we’ve turned in the assignment, and everything is over, I want you to come watch me fight… watch me win…” a cocky smirk twitched at the corner of his lips as he awaited your answer.

warnings: mma!rafe cameron x reader, smut, college au, study buddies to lovers, soft!rafe, autumnal vibes, takes place in the beginning of november, studying, friday the 13th references, scaredy cat!reader, violence, mma fights, kissing, semi-public sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, manhandling, ripping pantyhose, size kink, spit kink, hole inspection, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 2626

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“So,” you hesitantly broke the silence that had fallen over both you and the partner that had been assigned to you on this current project, “did you get up to anything fun on Halloween?” 

Glancing up from the thick book Rafe’s bored gaze was rushing through, it instead lingered on you for but a moment as his mutter reverberated in the quiet corner of the university’s library, “uhm, yeah. I popped by a party for a bit.” 

“The one at delta neu?” a glint flickered in your eye as soon as he offered you a nod, “me too! Though I went home kinda early, so we might have missed each other… what did you going as?” 

“Jason,” he simply uttered. 

“Jason who?” the soft smile didn’t fade from your lips as his short answer hadn’t landed the way he’d hoped. 

“You know,” his brows furrowed slightly at your cluelessness, repeating once again as if the name alone should be enough for you to understand, “Jason.” 

“…Jason Statham? Jason Momoa?” your eyes squinted as you quietly attempted to hit the bullseye, “uhm… I can’t really think of any other famous Jasons right now…” 

“No, Jason from Friday the 13th. You know, the dude with the hockey mask and the machete.” 

“Ah, him… yeah, I haven’t watched those movies,” you shrugged, “but, cool costume.” 

“Wait, you’ve never seen Friday the 13th?” he tilted closer to where you sat across the table from him, “not even the cheesy remake?” 

“Nope,” you simply returned your gaze to the textbook beneath your fingers.  

“Seriously?” his eyebrows didn’t float back down yet, “well, I don’t know if I should be offended that you’ve never watched that masterpiece before or jealous that you get to experience it for the first time, but either way, that’s a problem we need to fix.” 

At first, you thought you’d entered the wrong building. 

That was until you rounded the corner, and your gaze fluttered up from the map still open on your phone, guiding you to the mysterious address your study partner had texted you, asking you to meet up with him there before the rest of your plans could unfold, that you discovered that you hadn’t stumbled into the wrong place. 

Though that wasn’t the only thing you discovered in that moment as the culmination of that enlightenment was spotting Rafe in the middle of the industrial and cold gym, going through the tail end of some drills with his trainer. 

As he went through the combinations and grunted like a guard dog, sweat dripped down from his brow and rolled so low that it cascaded over his already glistening and bare chest. 

You hadn’t really noticed how your feet had stopped or how your pulse had picked up so fiercely that you could feel it between your thighs before his own eyes located you and he flashed you a smile.

“Hey!” his voice cut through your trance as he patted his coach on the shoulder and began to near the edge of the ring. 

“H-hi,” you blinked, shaking your fuzzy head slightly to clear it, “I didn’t know you were into this sort of stuff,” you briefly waved a hand to the gym around you and tried your best to rip your stare away from his heaving chest. 

“Yeah,” he began to loosen a glove, “sorry I asked you to meet me here, I’m just really busy these days cause I’ve got a fight coming up.” 

“Oh, well we don’t have to have a silly movie night if you don’t have the time,” you averted your gaze, recalling how before you’d been paired with him on the assignment for Callahan’s class, you hadn’t even been sure of what his name was. You’d just known him as the hot guy, three rows behind you. 

“No, no, I want to, unless of course you’ve changed your mind.”

Blinking back up into his eyes, you smiled, “definitely not.”

“Well, great,” a grin spread across his lips, “then just give me a second,” he cast a brief glance over his broad shoulder at the locker room, “and then we can head back to my place,” a notion you hadn’t expected would have ended with you up on the back of his motorcycle, a terrifying concept that you’d somehow been unable to deny as the crush that had blossomed and bloomed within your heart for him had made it near impossible for you to say no to a single one of his suggestions. 

“You never told me what you went as,” Rafe hummed beside you, causing your eyes to tear away from the horror movie buzzing on the TV.

Blinking over at him next to you on the leather couch, your fingers began to fiddle with the blanket you’d slumped over yourself, “oh, well I didn’t wanna buy anything new, so I just went through my closet and ended up going as Britney Spears because I found the skirt of my old school uniform. I don’t even remember why I brought it with me the last time I went home, but–, ah!” a shriek suddenly shuttered through your form as your eyes accidentally fluttered back towards the screen just in time to witness the villain sink a large blade into the head of one of the drunk teenagers, “oh my god!” your frame couldn’t help but jump at the fright, nearly tossing the blanket across the room as you instinctively hid your features in the mass of Rafe’s bicep. 

As your heart raced and thumped in your chest, you felt Rafe’s shoulder begin to move before you heard his laughter. 

“Shut up, it’s not funny!” you smacked him lightly in the chest, though kept your vision darkened by his shirt, “so I’m not desensitised to the horrors of scary movies, big whoop!” a mutter then slipped out of your lungs, “fuck, why did I agree to this? I’m probably gonna have nightmares for weeks…”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s just a movie,” you felt his palm find your arm in a soothing rub as his voice hummed directly above the crown of your head, “and the scene is almost over.” 

“I can’t look…” you felt yourself lean more into his touch. 

“…do you want me to describe it to you?” 

“No…” you lingered in the security of his warmth and felt the terror slowly melt from your bones. Cupping a hand on the side of your face to shield your eyes from the horrors on screen, you carefully plucked your face just shy out of his safety before you uttered, “…just tell me when it’s over…” 

The blaring light from the television reflected against the side of Rafe’s face as he gazed down into your eyes and breathed, “okay,” his stare slowly dipping and fluttering down towards your lips. 

It wasn’t till now that you noticed how close you’d accidentally scooted to him as you weren’t far from just sitting in his lap. 

Sharing his breath, your mind went entirely blank and only switched back on when you’d closed the distance betwixt your lips and now found yourself kissing your study buddy. 

Thankfully, your brain didn’t get a chance to begin spiralling as it only took Rafe half a second to reciprocate the sudden move and kiss you back. 

His strong hands found the small of your waist buried beneath the woollen blanket before he began to drag you closer, pulling you so near that you actually did wind up sitting in his lap, your fingers fluttering against his buzzcut as his own scooped down over the curve of your ass. 

When the movie gently humming from behind you was long forgotten and your soul instead had drifted straight to heaven, you felt Rafe tilt his head back to breathlessly utter, “come watch my fight…” his forehead still pressed against your own. 

Scarcely picking up on the words behind his honied hum, you breathed, “what?” 

Reeling back just enough for his eye to catch your own dazed pair, he said, “in a week, when we’ve turned in the assignment, and everything is over, I want you to come watch me fight… watch me win…” a cocky smirk twitched at the corner of his lips as he awaited your answer.

You’d never seen a fight in real life before. 

Not boxing, not mixed martial arts as this was, not even a juvenile one in a schoolyard. 

At one point, when you thought all hope seemed lost, when Rafe got pinned by his opponent and blood was trickling down from the cut at his brow so clearly that you could make it out from the second row seat you found yourself planted in, he somehow managed to turn the tides and capture the boulder of a man in a lock so fierce it made them nearly melt into one pretzel-like being. 

As he flexed his arm around the other’s throat with the rest of his limbs restricting him as well and rendering an escape near impossible, Rafe’s eyes then flickered up to catch your wide ones in the crowd. A grin appeared on his features as he held your stare a moment longer, watching as you shyly began to mirror his smile, before he tightened his hold and squeezed till the opponent opted not to bruise his pride and tap out, instead going limp in the grasp. 

Once the trophy was in his gloved hand and he’d leapt out of the ring, on his way back towards the locker room, he zigzagged through the cheering crowd and caught onto your arm, dragging you with him as he exited the buzzing hall. 

“That was insane,” you heard yourself babble as he pulled you through the corridors down towards the backroom he’d been in prior to the fight, “I mean, I know I went into it kinda blind, but I had no idea it would be like that,” adrenaline still rushed through your veins as he tugged you over the threshold and closed the door behind you, swiftly dropping his trophy to one of the long benches, “sure, it was as insane as I probably imagined, but the way that you moved, the way you slipped in and out like you were made of water or something, I mean, that was beautiful–,” the fighter then suddenly cut your rambling short as he yanked you to his sweaty form and pressed his lips to your own. However, as his feet shuffled and your spine collided with the back of the door to the small locker room, your fingers fluttered over countless of the spots where he’d been hit, causing you to jerk back and ask, “wait, shouldn’t you have someone check you out?” your eyes flickered from the cut splitting his brow to the various fresh bruises already beginning to blossom and reveal their true colours, “are you okay?”

“I’ve never felt better in my whole life,” he tried to lean back in to capture your lips once more, though you tilted away just in time for him to miss. 

“You sure? Because–”

But your words were quickly snuffed out as his hands then flew up to grasp the sides of your face to force you to notice the glint in his eye and the desire dripping in his tone, “just shut up and kiss me,” he commanded before he practically devoured you whole. 

As Rafe’s tongue danced against your own and made you feel dizzy in his tight embrace, his fingers then blindly fumbled for the lock and twisted it with a click that harmonised with the throbbing that had appeared between your thighs as soon as the fight had commenced. 

A low growl rumbled deep within his chest and melted into your mouth as he then plucked you off of the ground and lifted you into his arms. Broad palms spreading wide below your bottom, he brought you as close as possible, causing the skirt you wore to ride up and crumble at your hips. The thin barrier of your pantyhose and the underwear beneath nearly incinerated from the heat that sparked as his hips greedily rocked against your covered core, lending you to feel just how hard he was in his shorts. 

“I want you so bad,” he groaned between pecks, his fingers digging into your softness.

“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your victory or something?” a light giggle bubbled out of you. 

“I thought that was what I was doing,” he smirked before dropping you back down onto the ground, making you gasp at his sharp movements as he suddenly spun you around to face the closed door, “unless you have a better idea of how we could celebrate,” he nipped at your neck, making your eyes flutter. 

“I–…” your teeth briefly captured your bottom lip as his front pressed against your back, and your spine instinctively arched back into him, “no, yeah, this one’s g-good…”

“Good,” he murmured in your ear before his fingers found your pantyhose in a pinch and ripped a big hole in them, nearly splitting them in two as he exposed your underwear, “do you want it?” he gripped your hips and titled them for his hard-on to perfectly nudge against the soaked cotton. 

“Y-yes,” you panted, even just that one word haven been a struggle to utter through the fog he’d cast you into. 

“How bad?” 

“So bad–, Rafe, please,” he made you squeak desperately, “I just–, please…”

Cheek smooshed against the door, you glanced over your shoulder and watched as he then kneeled down behind you. Both hands still firmly planted on your hips, keeping you in place for him, they only strayed for a moment in order to shove your skirt the rest of the way up and letting him see the wet spot decorating your panties. 

“Oh, shit…” he groaned as he tugged the gusset of your underwear all the way to the side, a string of your glossy want clung to the fabric till it snapped back against your aching core. Nearly salivating as he inspected your holes, his fingers dented your ass as he pulled you apart, splitting you open that much further and watching intently at the way your drooling cunt throbbed in anticipation for his touch. 

As if your pussy’s embarrassingly leaky state wasn’t enough, a dollop of his spit then roughly landed upon your folds, the lewdness causing you to let out a moan as he swiftly rose back up to his full height without as much as a tickle to your tingly petals.

The next thing you knew, the adrenaline coursing through you both drove Rafe to free his length from its confines and, without as much as another kiss, slammed inside of your weeping pussy in one fell motion. 

Balls nuzzled tightly against you, the very tip of him nudged against a part so deep inside of you that it made you lose your breath as he took a moment to savour the sensation, freezing up within you and huffing against your cheek as you gasped for air through your whimpers. 

“Oh my god!” one of your hands curled back to crawl at his waist, “Rafe!” 

“Now,” his hips slowly drew back, dragging his fat girth back out of you and letting you feel every little detail of him, “you just gotta be a good girl, stand right here for me,” only the bulbous head of his cock remained, keeping you plugged up as he purred in your ear, “and take it like the perfect little prize you are,” he then buried himself once more with such vigour that his heavy sack tapped sloppily against your puffy clit, “can you do that for me? Will you be my reward?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[loves0phelia]

hello! hope you’re okay after the ending, honestly I don’t think any of us are.

I wanted to request a rafe x pogue reader where it’s that boat storm scene and instead of Sarah falling it’s reader and she’s just drowning and Rafe jumps in after her. He doesn’t know why he did it but he just has a soft spot for her and it’s just really angsty but also cute.

thanks! I love your account btw!

In The Sea

Summery: the anon

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: grammar mistakes

A\N: thank you to everyone who has been requesting it makes me very happy xxx

You stand at the edge of the deck, clutching the railing as the boat rocks, waves rolling against the hull. The salty breeze whips your hair around your face, and the peaceful ocean sounds made you think about the current situation.

You didn't expect Rafe to save you and your friends from being arrested, much less expect him to find a boat big and resistant enough to drive you all to Morocco Africa to find the blue crown. It was truly a surprise considering you and Rafe's history.

“So what? Are we just on our way to Africa now?” Kiara asked the group as if she couldn't believe that Rafe Cameron was willingly helping them.

“Quick little weekend trip?” She added to her previous sentence.

“What about Rafe? We know what he did to the cross and now we want to go after the crown with him?” You and the rest of the pogue's lips go into a thin line at the memory.

“Sarah, you're his family, how do deal with him” John B said, finding no other options.

“I don't- I don't know, I think maybe y/n might have a chance of convincing him to behave but..” she shrugged and you felt the stares of your friends burn holes through you. Your past relationship with him was a secret to nobody.

“We- we just have to talk to him, or at least try” You proposed earning a frown from JJ.

“Talk to Rafe? When has he ever just communicated with us?” 

“Talking to him is the only option we have, but you're definitely not talking with him,” John B said and as expected everyone nodded and hummed, agreeing. JJ was in no place to talk with Rafe.

“Why not? What did I do?” He asked, getting almost frustrated.

“We all know you and him are far from being civil, the last thing we need is you triggering him and causing trouble” His girlfriend, Kiara, tried to explain the easiest way but he still got defensive. After a couple of bickering from JJ and John b You finally decide to go speak with him, who was driving the boat not too far away from the deck.

“Hey,” You knock on the metal and rusted door before entering and walking up to him. His eyes catch yours and there's a tension between the two of you. But Rafe only tilts his head to acknowledge you.

You swallow, feeling the weight of his stare. "We just want to talk," you say, steadying your voice as the rest of your friends beside JJ follow behind you.

“All right let's talk” Rafe chuckles, and it’s low, almost a whisper. 

Your mind goes almost blank as you take him in, you haven't been this close since you were forced in the same room by Sighs men last year. You had almost forgotten how much you missed him.

“You guys be cool I'll be cool” His voice snapped you out of your daydream, realizing you had missed a bit of the conversation.

“So now you want peace?” Pope leaned back and scoffed, not believing a word that came out of his mouth.

“I just saved all your asses, how about a thank you?” He glanced at all of you one by one, but he only earned silence,

“Listen I don't want any part of your little fairytale treasure hunt bullshit, I'm just looking for Groff” He’s breathing heavily, holding himself back from adding more snark,

“Hey, Rafe!” Before anyone can react, JJ’s fist flies through the air, cracking against Rafe’s jaw with a force that echoes.

Rafe’s head snaps back, his expression stunned for a split second before he crumples, hitting the hard metal floor. For a moment, everyone is frantic, staring at the lifeless form sprawled across the floor, his eyes closed, completely knocked out.

“holy shit”

“Jesus JJ what's your problem”

“Whoo that felt good” Tired of JJ's crazy actions the girls walk away shaking their heads in disbelief until you are the only one staying behind.

JJ stands over him, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still pulsing through him as he looks down at Rafe. His fist is red, already bruising, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“What is wrong with you?” You look at him, feeling a rush of shock mixed with panic. You fall to your knees next to Rafe and quickly look over his injuries, softly rubbing your thumb on his jaw.   “If he didn't do it I was going to do it” Pope added only worsening the situation. You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows at his sentence.

After the pogues agreed it was probably not a good idea to let Rafe free in case he woke up and decided to shoot you all with his “peacemaker” you tied him up in a small cabin. His head hung low, his wrists were bound to a stainless steel pole and his legs were uncomfortably folded beneath him. Your heart clenched at the sight of him but still decided to leave him there until he woke up.

You open the door to the cabin slowly with a tray of warmed-up canned spaghetti in hand, it wasn't the best but it was all the boat had.

“I brought you food..” You whispered before bending down to place the tray in front of him.

“great” he sighed.

“I found aspirin in the medicine cabinet, I figured you'd have a headache, maybe even a concussion” 

“Right… are you gonna throw it in my mouth like a seal or something” He scoffed again clearly angered,

“They don't trust you Rafe… but if you do the right thing maybe they will open up a little bit”

“I am doing the right thing! I helped you” He tried pulling against the restraints but failed. 

“I know okay? I know but unfortunately, I don't have a choice but to let you in here until we get there, I'm sorry” you whispered and pushed the tray closer to him. “Please eat,” You said and left closing the large door behind you.

For a moment you stayed behind the door listening closely. “Y/N come back!” he grunts and kicks his feet on the ground. “Fucking untie me please!!” he screamed and you jumped when you heard the tray you had just put down on the floor fly into the wall.

Pope leaning over the side, is the first to spot the flicker of movement beneath the water. "Guys! I see one!" exclaims, his voice a mixture of excitement and focus. He scrambles for the fishing rod, almost knocking over the tackle box in his rush.

John B is right beside him, laughing. “We've got our dinner!" he laughs.

“Guys, this one’s huge!” Kie giggles with the boys knowing we were all set for dinner time tonight.

You all spent the rest of the day cooking the fish you caught and preparing side dishes with some good music in the background.

Until it was time for Rafa's second meal.

You open the door carefully and his eyes catch yours, this time you don't speak, simply set the tray of seasoned salmon down in front of him.

Has you were about to close the door you hear him.

“Wait, y/n. Can you please- can you give me the fork” his tone is much softer than before so you can't deny him. 

You get down and pick up the utensil his bound hands couldn’t reach.

“Thank you” He murmured, and you barely heard him as you closed the door behind you once again.

The sky darkens ominously as thunder rumbles in the distance, low and threatening. Waves crash harder against the hull of the boat, tossing it with a force that leaves you gripping onto anything within reach. The storm monitor flashes red to show the storm coming ahead of you.

“That's not good,” John B says.

“We're gonna have to try to blast through it,” Pope says, not finding any better options.

“Why can't we go south?” Kie asks genuinely.

“The current is gonna be against us we don't have a choice” John B agreed even after trying to find safer options, the boat's roar has Pope push the lever controlling the engine to the max. 

The waves make the boat shift side to side making it difficult to stay up and steady.

Another massive wave crashes over the side, drenching them all, and you lose your footing, sliding across the deck until Kie grabs your arm, pulling you back.

“Hold on to something” Kie yells at you pope and Sarah and you all grip onto the nearest thing.

“Hey!” a distant voice echoes through the walls.

“Cut me loose! Y/N! Somebody!” Rafe screamed and banged his fists on the wall.

“Get me out of here!” Everyone listens but doesn't move a finger.

“We have to let him out” You scramble to your feet but jerk back when Cleo grabs your wrist.

“No!” she says trying to stop you but you pulled back.

“He's gonna drown” You pull open rapidly the drawers trying to find something sharp, able to cut the thick ropes wrapped around Rafe's hands.

The storm is relentless, its fury tossing you around like a rag doll as you try to reach him.  

You cling to the railing, struggling to stay upright as the boat lurches violently, nearly sending you sprawling across the floor. Your legs buckle under you. You come crashing through the door and walk onto the water-soaked floor knife in hand.

“Cut me loose” he begs.

Crouching in front of him you began frantically cutting the rope. Your muscles burn with how much pressure you're using.

“Shit,” You say when a sudden jerk of the boat makes your face come inches apart from his, lips almost touching. You don't have time to think as you regain your balance and continue cutting the bounds.

“There! Come on” you yelled and quickly grasped his hands to pull him up from the floor.

You both run to shelter but the boat jerks side to side even more violently,

“Something is wrong I have to go see!” 

“No!” Rafe tried holding on to you but you were already rushing away onto the deck where waves came crashing, a massive wave rose out of the dark, towering over the boat like a shadow.

You barely had time to think before it crashed down, an icy, unforgiving wall of water that slammed into you with the force of a sledgehammer. The impact was too strong and you were thrown backward, landing hard on the deck. Pain explodes through your shoulder, the wind knocks from your lungs. Dazed and gasping, you try to get up, but the boat tips again, and before you can stand, another wave strikes.

This one is worse, merciless, catching you just as you struggle to rise. Your fingers graze the edge of the railing, but the slick metal slips through your grasp. In an instant, the world spins as you are thrown away from the boat, the cold, raging ocean swallowing you whole.

The water is a shock, freezing and chaotic, disorienting you as you plunge beneath the surface. You thrash, fighting to reach the surface, lungs burning, but the waves toss you back and forth, each effort to rise met with another rush of icy water.

Back on the boat, Rafe catches a glimpse of you disappearing over the side, and his heart stops. “Y/N!” he screams, panic cutting through the storm. Without a second thought, he scrambles to the railing, nearly slipping himself as he peers out into the dark, searching for any sign of you.

“Where is she!” Sarah came rushing to her brother

“She fell overboard” he yells already reaching for a rope with the floating boyee. He’s soaked, exhausted, and barely steady, but there’s no hesitation as he jumps in after you.

“Rafe no!” She screams after her brother.

A wave slams into Rafe. “Y/N!!” he yells in the water as he sees you trying to stay above the water far away.

With the last of your strength, You swim faster and harder towards Rafe and reach out when you're near, fingers brushing his arm, grasping it tight. Rafe holds you with everything he has.

“I got you” But you don't hear him in the storm.

You both hold on to each other your arms around his neck and his around your waist as the boat floats away and the night turns into a void.

“Hey, open your eyes, look at me” You feel gentle hands grasping on your face as you finally sit up coughing out the water that filled your lungs.

“That's it” The hands rub your back in a comforting way.

The sand is hot beneath you, warming up your skin, and with exhaustion, you fall onto Rafe's chest.

“Hey you okay?” panicked, he grabs onto your shoulder and pushes you a little bit to take a good look at your face.

“You jumped after me,” you whispered.

“Of course I did”  You look up at him, heart pounding, feeling a rush of gratitude, fear, and something deeper—something that’s been smouldering beneath the surface, unspoken, for far too long. Your eyes shine with tears, not sad and not happy either but grateful. 

His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you feel your heart racing even faster under his gaze, intense and unreadable, like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Without another thought, you lean in, closing the space between the two of you as you press your lips to his, a spark igniting into a wildfire the moment you connect. Rafe’s surprise melts away instantly, and he kisses back, fierce and unrestrained, his hands finding your waist.

The kiss is charged, fueled by adrenaline, and a longing that neither of you can deny any longer. Your hands find his shoulders, clinging to him, grounding you in his warmth, his strength, the feel of his heartbeat thundering beneath your touch. 

Rafe’s fingers trail up your back, sending shivers along your spine, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that speaks of everything left unspoken.

When you finally pull apart, breathless, Rafe’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours as he lets out a shaky laugh, almost in disbelief.

“You saved my life” you smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your lips. “I love you, I've always loved you” you whisper, and before you know it, you're kissing again, the ocean waves crashing nearby, the world forgotten as you lose yourselves in each other.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.

Send request xxx

[yikesmary]

options — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: where cheol tries his best to make sure your pregnancy cravings are satisfied—by buying what seems to be the whole convenience store

notes: this can be seen as a pt. 2 to this one shot I wrote back in June of last year (I did not know it's been that long since that has been posted wtf), but it can also be seen as a standalone. I got a burst of inspiration suddenly, so enjoy the one shot! <3

disclaimer: I am not pregnant, so whatever I write about pregnancy is through pure guessing, and also, if I decide to google it! so yeah :)

masterlist

"Did you leave any food for the other customers who might want to eat tonight?" you asked in amusement, watching Seungcheol put what seemed like the fifth plastic bag filled with food from the convenience store onto the table.

"Well, you kept on texting me things the baby might want, so I decided to get everything you've been craving and maybe some things that might work," Seungcheol explained, a bit out of breath from how many times he had to go back and forth.

"Baby, don't you think this is a bit too much? I don't even think baby girl will want a fourth of these," you said, rubbing your pregnant belly.

Ever since you and Seungcheol found out you were pregnant, he had become an even more attentive husband, if possible. He had insisted that you were not allowed to lift a single finger throughout your pregnancy, saying that you shouldn't get tired.

You had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? He would wake up the second you called his name, helping you from the bed and waiting outside the bathroom to make sure you didn't fall in or something (it had happened once, and Seungcheol was both worried and amused at the time). You were hungry? Seungcheol was already ordering something from a food delivery app or cooking one of the doctor-approved dishes that he taught himself to make.

He also made sure all of your pregnancy cravings were satisfied, which was why you've found yourself with what must've been the entire convenience store stock in your home. "So where do we start?" you asked, watching as he brought out a ton of different food out of the bags—chips, samgak (and regular) kimbap, ramen packs, and even ice cream from the bags.

"We should probably see if baby wants the already made food, and the ice cream can be a dessert?" He suggested, but you were already eyeing up your favorite ice cream from even before you got pregnant.

Seungcheol saw that you were looking at the ice cream and without fail, gave it to you before going to the freezer in order to put the rest in so they don't melt. "Thank you," you grinned, a mouthful of ice cream, which made him shake his head in endearment.

"Here, smell this," he said, giving you an open bag of chips.

You looked at him weirdly, yet smelled it. "It smells... like chips?" you said and smelt it one more time just to be sure.

"Does the baby want this?" He asked.

"Oh, not really," you shook your head, and he closed up the chip bag and proceeded to grab another bag, presumably to do the same.

"This one?" Seungcheol asked, giving you what looked like the last item, which was a cup tteokbokki.

"Oh, yeah!" You excitedly said.

"Really?!"

"No, I just wanted to make you happy, but the baby's really not liking it," you sighed.

Seungcheol sighed, which made you feel guiltier, as he had bought all of this food, and it was nothing you were currently craving. "I'm so sorry, Cheol. Maybe I can eat something—" you were saying as you were picking up a package of sweet bread, but quickly dropped it once the smell hit your nose.

"No, you shouldn't have to force yourself to eat if you don't like it. It's not your fault our daughter might just be the pickiest eater ever. I'll just bring all of this to practice tomorrow and the guys can eat all of it," Seunghceol shrugged.

You still felt guilty, which he must've seen by the look on your face, which prompted him to grab you gently so he could give you a hug. "Maybe there's something in the fridge?" He suggested, holding your hand and using his thumb to caress the back of your hand.

You thought about it for a moment before releasing Seungcheol's hand, to which he pouted when you did and walked towards the refrigerator. You looked through the fridge, but nothing caught your eye.

Until a bright orange Tupperware lid caught your attention and you grabbed it. Once you opened it, you looked at Seungcheol sheepishly. "I found something to eat.." you said.

Seungcheol stood up walked over to you and looked at the Tupperware. "Isn't this the japchae Mingyu and Jun made?" he asked, and you nodded.

"I guess I'm gonna have to ask them to make you japchae every time you crave it. Or learn it myself,"

taglist: taglist: @belladaises @winterpaos @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @withloveyjh @lockburn-castle @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @violetvoo @maevadobreva @soonyoungblr @baekhyunstruly @ryusol @dunixxd @minhwa @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @icyminghao @cookiehaos @duskunt1ldawn

[sissyslutsusan]

I met this older dominant man the other night at a trans club. He and some younger men kept hitting on me and buying me drinks, one after the other. And the more I drank the bolder and looser I became. Sitting at a high top table wearing a tight little black dress with my nyloned legs crossed, and 6" heels, I could see showing these guys some leg was definitely turning them on. I started grabbing their cocks through the pants, rubbing their asses, dancing with them, and being very flirtatious. One of the younger guys was kissing my neck, and another guy was hugging me from behind. The third younger guy had his had on my legs and kept trying to go under my dress. It was getting very busy at my table and I was having a hard managing so many men. I can be a little bitch sometimes so I was somewhat sarcastic and saucy with them. So, I was a bit drunk and felt if I was going to leave with one of these guys I would be safer going with the older guy. We went out to his car and the first thing he says is let's get a motel room. I didn't want to lose my virginity in his car If necessary, I could always perform oral sex on him which I had done many times with different men at these clubs. OMG! It wasn't long before he was all over me, grabbing me, grabbing my tits and ass, he was acting crazy! It was like he got a second wind, and I was wondering if I left with the right guy! He grabbed my hand and placed it on his outer pants so I could feel his cock. Even though I hadn't seen it yet I knew then it was big and very hard. I started jacking him off and he quickly unzipped his pants and pulled his big cock out. It was huge and very thick. I thought I could jack him off and that would be the end of it but he grabbed my head and forced it down onto his big veiny hard cock. I knew there was no way to stop him now so I started licking and sucking his big dick. I lapped the mushroomed looking head and could taste precum oozing from the head of his cock. I started bobbing my head up and down and at the same time stroking his shaft and playing with his balls. He was really horny because it didn't take him long to ejaculate sperm into my mouth and down my throat. He forced his cock so deep down my throat I gagged a bit and was choking on all the cum he pumped down my throat. This video is literally the way he treated me! It felt like I was his personal little whore! He slapped me, used two fingers to pull my mouth open wider, choked me, stuck his tongue into my mouth and kissed me passionately, then spit into my mouth, he hiked my little black dress up, ripped my pantyhose, and played with my ass and clitty. His hands were big and very strong. He made me cum in my panties. His hand was full of my cum when he told me to start licking! The inside of my mouth was coated in his cum and drying on the corners of my lips where some of his semen had leaked out. I didn't really want both of our cum coating my inner mouth. He then forced his cum covered hand into my mouth without even asking me or giving me a chance to say no. He was twisting my body like a pretzel in all kinds of ways! It was like I was a contortionist. Once he flipped me onto my back I thought for sure he was going to fuck me because he removed my panties. But he couldn't really get buy his console because it was too high. So he then spun me so I was sideways in the car, pushed me forward, hiked my dress up, and started slapping my ass really hard! So hard and for so long I had bruises on it when I got home! All of these things went on for at least an hour in his car. I was completely worn out and he had so much energy and was so strong there wasn't much I could do to prevent this from getting out of control. He could have done anything he wanted to me and I would have had to give in to him. After I got back into my car I felt relieved he didn't make me suck his cock again because it was very hard as I was leaving. He really abused me and made me his whore for the night.....I can't wait to see him again! <smile>

[sectumsempraaa]

Our Missing Piece

Pairing: they’re all in love w/ you 🤭 x fem!reader

Word count: 1.3k

TW: none! Fluff galore!

Featuring: Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Pansy

Summary: As Hogwarts’s newest student, you generally keep to yourself, staying out of the spotlight. That is until you beat the famous Harry Potter in a classroom duel and win the hearts of a bunch of down-bad Slytherins, who jump at the chance to take you under their wing.

Please don’t pick me, please don’t pick me.

Professor Snape’s looming eyes scale the shaking students in front of him, deciding who he’ll choose to go next in your Defense Against the Dark Arts mock-wand battles. McGonagall has already made her choice, sending the famous Harry Potter walking proudly to the center, taking a wide stance.

You’ve managed to stay relatively out of the way since starting at Hogwarts, about a month ago. Since you stepped foot off the train, you decided to dedicate yourself to your studies, giving in to your introverted tendencies.

But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t long for friendship each time you spotted girls skipping in the hallway together, or when the Weasley crew bursts into laughter at lunch, or when you spot the Ravenclaws studying in the library.

Suddenly, your head of house’s voice penetrates the air, slicing through the anticipation like a swift dagger.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Snape announces, gesturing a finger to approach him.

Son of a bitch.

You look around, the color draining from your face as you observe every head turning to look at you. You make your way up to the raised platform, passed your professor, when an oddly gentle hand on your shoulder stops you short.

Snape kneels, lowering his voice to a mutter.

“Breathe. Forget his name. He is only a boy.”

You nod, swallowing your fear and taking your first steps toward Harry. You repeat the words in your head, closing your eyes momentarily and wiping the sweat from your palms.

He is only a boy.

“On your marks,” Professor Lupin instructs, the both of you lifting your wands to position. Harry nods to you in greeting, which you return with eyes like headlights. You try your best to ignore your racing pulse and quickened breath.

What the hell am I going to do?

A sly, boyish voice from the Slytherin crowd behind you catches your ear, a voice you can almost put a name to. The phrase ripples in your head, echoing until it becomes a solid thought.

“Careful of that one, Potter. She’s lethal.”

You grin to yourself, the remark helping to relax your shoulders and straighten your posture. And for the first time since arriving here, you feel a confidence that’s been waiting to unleash… you feel like a Slytherin.

She’s lethal.

In a split second, you choose a spell and devise the best handwork to perform it.

Yes, I bloody am.

Lupin conducts a countdown, and at the same time, you each send magic hurdling at each other. But you’re sharp, cunning, and quick. Maybe you’ve only been here a month, but you know enough to identify his weakness on the spot.

His softer, disarming expelliarmus meets your driving, aggressive bombarda, as a fantastic collision of colors explodes in the center of the platform. Students yell in reaction, stepping a few feet back.

The blast sends Harry straight down, rolling over a few times from the forceful impact. You had directed it specifically to hit at just the right moment, as not to cause injury.

After a second, you find yourself still on your feet, the smoke clearing slowly in the air. But the second your house spots Potter on the ground, a roar like hell erupts behind you. A small smile returns to your face, along with a glimmer in your gaze.

You bow, then stroll over to your opponent, respectfully offering to help him back on his feet. Your face contorts in confusion when he stands on his own, shaking you off.

“Good match, Potter! Nice to meet you.” You extend your hand, finding your soft, yet direct voice.

“Not shaking your hand if you belong to those filthy Slytherins,” he replies, a pang of hurt hitting your chest at the rejection. You’re lost on where you went wrong, all you did was follow instructions.

“She sure as hell does!”

Suddenly, a mass of rushed footsteps approaches you from behind, the boyish voices multiplying as they celebrate your victory.

“Told you to be careful, Potter.” Draco mocks, sending a wink his way. A boy you recognize as Mattheo speaks up next.

“The boy who lived- oh, sorry, I meant the boy who got leveled by a fourth year!” He snickers, taking a stance by your side. He looks to you, nudging your shoulder in encouragement with a gleam of pride in his eyes. His next words are just for you.

“Wicked job out there, darling.”

The closeness of his face to yours sends a shiver down your back, his charming smile luring you in. Harry interrupts, his tone annoyed.

“Run from this lot while you can, Y/N.”

“Paws off, Potter. This one’s ours.” Draco sneers, throwing an arm around you and pulling you close to his side. A blush develops on your face, remembering his sentiment from before your duel.

“That’s too bad, a smart girl like you wasting your time with a bunch of snakes.” He spits.

Theodore, the Italian transfer from Rome, pipes in with his two cents. He’s tall, and intimidating. His mere presence ushers other students out of the way.

“I’d tell you to eat shit, Harry, but you already did.” The diss earns an uproarious laugh from the group. Pansy stands behind you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Someone’s a sore loser,” she says to Harry in her sing-song way. “Not every legend has a prophecy, mate.” She squeezes your arm, giggling to you and herself.

And to that, he storms away, his Gryffindor friends following after. You turn to the group, unable to produce words after their glowing display of support. They each take their turn giving you hugs and chanting your name, Pansy opting to play with your hair.

“I think you’re our missing piece.” Mattheo proclaims. “We sort of need someone who-”

“Can save our arses?” Theo finishes the thought. “She’s way bloody better at magic than we are.”

“I believe he’s referring to the several… ahem, situations, we get ourselves into… at times.” Draco says hesitantly, his gaze drinking in your every feature, admiring his newest recruit.

For the first time, you find yourself surrounded by people who like you. Who admire you, want you for themselves. They’re actually excited, thrilled even, to make you one of their own. You couldn’t have imagined it unfolding like this, but you’re damn glad it did.

“Should’ve known she was the one when Draco was nearly drooling over her in Potions class…” Pansy interjects. Draco’s face goes wildly pink, unable to hide his bashfulness behind his pale complexion.

“What else can you do, new girl?” Theo inquires, his demeanor mysterious and intriguing.

“In che senso?” You respond, using the very little Italian you picked up on your last summer trip. His face lights up, a wave of sheer attraction and awe written all over it.

He clasps your hand, holding it like a damn trophy. “I think I’ll marry you someday.” He confesses.

Mattheo pushes him away from you in order to regain your attention by offering to carry your books to the next class.

“Allow me, love.” Mattheo says as the boys continue to shove and trip over each other to engage with you.

You nod, shooting a puzzled look at Pansy while the boys gather your things and start to lead the group out. She pulls you aside, linking arms with you, the Slytherin champion.

“They’ve all been pining since they first laid eyes on you, you bloody bombshell.” She jokes, revealing the boy’s truth.

“But then you beat Potter, and well… that sealed the deal. I’ve never seen heart-eyes like that from any of them, let alone all of them.”

You catch Draco staring longingly at the two of you, quickly glancing elsewhere to play off his obvious infatuation with you. You smile and wave to him, biting your lip as he nods your way.

Pansy leaves you with one last thought before you all head to Potions, gesturing her head towards Draco.

“They’re all quite competitive. But that one… that one will end the world for you, Y/N.”

Lethal, you think to yourself.

Because he’s lethal, too.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Taglist: @viperify @chelawrites @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @redeemingvillains @clar2aa

[tbaluver]

Hi! Wanted to ask if you could maybe do if L&DS men are cat hybrids and went into heat.

love your work

The Love And DeepSpace Men As Cat Hybrids In Heat

parings in order: Cat Hybrid!Xavier x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Zayne x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Rafayel x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, breeding kink, fingering, p in v, sylus receiving head a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ im soso sorry this took so long i hope this doesn't disappoint and if it does just pretend it simply doesn't exist ! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) i was suppose to have this posted around kinktober but i got busy with exams so i barely just got back to it after the new banner trailer came out! thank you for loving my works and i hope you enjoy reading luv ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :

you couldn’t help but stir in the sheets as your backside was pressed firmly against Xavier as he pulled you in closer. his head rested in the crook of your neck, running small kitten licks on it. sleep still clouded your mind and it took you a few seconds to realize his bulge was pressing against the plush of your ass.

“it-it hurts....” he lets out a whine. his eyes were half-lidded while his ears were drooped helplessly. he didn’t mean to wake you and never wanted to trouble you but the ache coursed through his lower half was unbearable. he couldn’t help it but he needed you more than ever.

“please can you make it better for me, honey?” he asked desperately as you hummed in response. the plump of his lips against your neck caused goosebumps causing you to arch your back enough to grind against him.

he softly grunts into the shell of your ear when you grind your lower half to grind against his clothed erection. his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, finding the curve of your breasts. his hands kneading them desperately while his fingers circle one of your nipples.

you catch your breath as his fingers looped around the waistband of your panties. little gasps of pleasure manage to escape your lips as his hands find their way to play with your clit. his fingers pressed against your entrance, teasing it slightly as if it begged for him. you let out a moan, your back arching your back more as he pushes a second finger in as he shallowly dips his fingers between your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips.

“so wet..need to be inside you.” he lets out a low growl, withdrawing his slick-coated fingers from your cunt that earns a whine from you. he quickly removes his boxers, desperate to free his cock from its constriction. in an instant, his hands find their way back to you, placing his hands on the back of your thighs.

without any words, his hands gently guided your thigh upwards. his mind was in a haze, consumed by nothing but thoughts of you- of being inside of you and filling you up full of nothing but him only.

xavier rocks his hips forward, slipping his cock between your lower lips. his hand squeezes your thigh firmly as he teases your entrance. “you’re so soft...so warm.” he lets out a breathy moan as his hair and the soft fur on his ear gently brush against your skin as he watches you slowly take him in. he carefully slowly buries himself inside of you, making sure to pause and let you get used to the sudden girth.

you whimper when he sets a steady pace, his hand moves to your hips to help him. “pretty...” xavier lowly murmurs into your ear, “gonna give you a whole litter,” he stammers out, his words faltering as one of his ears perked up while the other stayed drooped. his eyes were half-lidded and his tone completely shifted with the idea of you being the mother to his future litter.

his pace quickens, his movements are now rougher. his cock hitting so deep inside of you with every thrust as his name continues to slip out of your lips, motivating him further. his left hand rested on your stomach while his right hand found their way back to your breasts, kneading them desperately and pinching it gently with his thumb and index finger.

both of you fill the room with strings of curses and each other’s names as you meet the blinding heat of your climax washing over you both. his hips thrust into you one last time, digging his hands into your hips as he spills his seed into you, filling you whole until it drips to your inner thigh.

you both catch your breath, breathing heavily as he presses his forehead against the back of your shoulder. “thank you..’m sorry for waking you,” he murmurs softly, his fingers drawing circles on your hip.

you gently lift his hand from your hip, pressing a quick kiss to his palm. “t’s alright xavier,” you reassure him.

you feel him shift behind you as he positions himself on top of you and for you to lie on your back. your eyes widened seeing his cock still hard and shimmering in your slick.

“we’re not finished yet.”

Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :

you couldn’t help but notice the subtle discomfort of your boyfriend. he unusually fidgeted in his seat, shifting his position every few minutes. sometimes he’d get up, only to return to the same spot, often followed by a sigh or a low groan. it was clear to you that something was bothering him.

“is everything alright?” you asked. he didn’t even look up, his gaze remained fixed on the pages in front of him. he’s staring at the pages but he’s not reading the words.

“i’m fine,” but you knew him too well, especially in the condition he was in right now. the way his tail swayed and how his ears flicked from the sound of you gave it away.

you set your book aside, moving in front of him. you gently closed the book he was holding and removed it from his hands. without waiting for a response, you settled yourself in his lap, positioning yourself so you could face him.

“c’mon tell me what’s wrong zayne,” you said softly, trying your best to ease any of his tension. you reached up, gently scratching behind his ears, careful not to press too hard, knowing how sensitive he was. he winced, making you flinch slightly and you immediately lifted your hand, ready to apologize.

but instead of pulling you away, his palm met the back of your hand, guiding it back down to rest on the side of his cheek. he nuzzled into your touch, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet scent of your skin. his hazel green eyes lock onto yours as he presses his lips to your wrist, giving it a teasing but yet gentle bite.

“your scent.. it’s driving me mad..” he lets out a low groan, giving your hand a small lick over the bite. 

“will you help me make it better my love?” his eyes looked needy and desperate, you couldn’t say no.

you let him move his hand down over your thighs between your legs. the cool touch of his fingers grazed over your thin fabric of your panties, adding that attention that you wanted to your body.

he was quick to help you discard your top, letting him have your breasts displayed in front of him in all his glory. whimpers escape your lips as you feel the warm and wetness of his tongue lapping at the sensitive bud that made wet arousal stream out of you. you could almost feel the wetness seeping from you.

he couldn’t ignore his painfully erect cock in the restraint of his pants. he helps you remove your panties down, lifting your hips and leg off to fully slip them off.

“please, i need you,” he pleads, grabbing the side of your ass and desperately rocks his hips up at you.

“i can never say no to you,” you purr, helping him remove his pants and letting them pool at his legs. his cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. he grunts out softly, his hands gripping onto your thighs, squeezing the flesh.

you take his length in your hands, attempting to line him up with your entrance. you rub his tip through your folds, letting him appreciate the presence of your wet folds before you sink down slowly on his cock, a broken whine escaping your lips.

zayne’s head falls against the back of the couch, eyes fluttering shut at the bliss of being inside you. the sensation of having your warm, wet cunt wrapped around his cock gave him the remedy he needed. and he needed more. 

it’s making him lose his composure and letting him kick into the animalistic instinct inside of him the longer you continue to make him feel so good.

his large hands begin to bounce you up and down his length, hungry to feel further inside of you. his pace is not usually this rough at the beginning but given the state he’s in, your priority was to make him feel better, too feel good.

you have to clutch his broad shoulders to stay in place, his thrusts setting your stomach in a blaze of ecstasy. he groans as he watches your face melt in pleasure and your tits bounce up and down, only making him want to fuck you harder.

“i-i can’t hold out that long love,” he pants, burying his face back into your breasts. you pull him in closer, your hands knotting into his hair as you bounce on his cock

you're having trouble keeping up everytime he slams you down into his lap. desperate, he pulls you in an open-mouthed kiss. It's sloppy and messy but yet passionate. you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

you could feel the coil in your stomach tightening to a dangerous extent, parting your lips as pleasure courses through your body. your walls flutter around him as he continues to pump in and out of your poor pussy, letting a low groan out of him.

he feels it, he feels his release coming but he doesn’t want it to end. waves of pleasure washes through him, his cock pumping his seed all into your hole. he watches it dribble down your leg which makes his ear twitch.

he doesn’t pull out, his dick growing back harder inside of you. he refuses to let his seed go to waste. he’ll continue and continue to fuck his cum back into you.

Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :

this was humiliating. his own body has betrayed him once again and turned him into this wretched creature he disliked the most. a cat.

he didn’t like one thing about being a cat, let alone being human-ish and a cat. the only thing he could appreciate this time was the ability to speak to you and tell you all the troubles he had. all of it, except for this.

the burning heat through his lower half of his body was unbearable, his mind and body fought each other as his body called for you.

he wanted you, needed you. but he didn’t want you to see him like this- not with his ears twitching in embarrassment or this annoying tail that betrayed his every move. he paced around in the bathroom, deciding to endure this unbearable urge to pass.

that was until a knock on the other side of the door snapped him from his thoughts. it was you.

“raf is everything okay in there? you’ve been in the bathroom for a while now..” you trailed off, your voice faint and muffled.

“i’m fine! you can go shoo!” but his own body betrayed him as moved toward the door despite what he said. his mind screamed at him to stop but his body pushed forward, yearning for you. his tail swayed, already longing for the sound of your voice. he didn’t want you to go.

he can hear you sigh from the other side of the door. “i know you hate being a cat again but let me help raf.”

it was quiet for a moment from his side of the door until the sound of the lock clicking opened. the door creaked slightly until you pushed it fully open, catching the sight of raf’s back.

“see everything is fineeee.” he says, not bothering to face you, his arms crossed over his chest. even from the back you can tell he’s probably pouting. but you can tell just from the tone of his voice that he’s lying.

you stepped closer, your hand brushing up his tail. his ears twitched while his tail perked up in an instant you touched him. “you-!” his breath hitched and the last shred of whatever control he had slipped away.

he pressed you against the door, his left hand cradling the back of your head to cushion the impact, while his right hand braces beside you, keeping you both in place.

he looks at you up and down, panting before pulling you closer and capturing your lips with urgency. his hand moves to your cheek while his thumb grazes softly.

“i can help raf,” you whisper against his lips, finally understanding the situation. your eyes flutter half closed, drawn to the soft movement of his lips and yours.

he whines softly as he pulls away, his ears drooping while his tail still sways. he didn’t give it a second thought before hoisting you up in his arms and placing you on the cold bathroom counter.

rafayel leans forward again, pressing his mouth to the column of your throat. his warm soft lips trailed your heated skins as his hands fell to your thighs. warm fingers, eager and urgent, explored your skin.

you lean back, pressing your head to the cool glass of the mirror, gripping his shoulder as he gives you small bites and licks over them. his hands snake up to make quick work on your shirt as you help him remove it.

“your scent,” he inhales deeply, his nose grazing against your skin. his cock twitched from the restraints of his pants as he pressed a kiss to the plush of your breast before nuzzling his face between them. “you’re soaked aren’t you?” 

he quickly slips off your panties to the side and presses his mouth the pulse point just beneath your ear as his fingers brush your clit. he groaned at the slick gathered on his fingers, not that surprised that you’re already dripping for him.

a small moan left your lips, your eyes rolling at the back of your head as he pushed his fingers into your entrance. the pleasure was short lived as he pulled away as he unbuckled his belt. his hard cock sprung free from the fabric, begging to be inside of you.

he positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into your wet cunt, earning a loud moan as rafayel tries to fill you up. wet arousal streams out of you as you arch your back and cup one of your breasts, fingers flicking over your hardening nipples.

“soo wett..” he trembles, a whimpering mess he is. he continues to babble curses and praises, making your velvety walls flutter and tighten impossibly around him. a whine escapes him as he ears droop and his mouth partens.

he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more merciless. he can’t blame you for the way your pussy wraps around his cock so perfectly. the image of your pretty pussy being so stuffed of him, nearly made him lose his mind

“gods..the way you’re taking me..” he pants out, “wanna breed you. gunna fill you up with soo much of my cum yea?”

your mind is clouded with a haze of lust, feeling his urgent need to feel you up. yeah it could be a litter but fuck it you can change his mind about cats later.

“give it to me raf, all of it,” you huff out between moans, as the pressure starts to bubble in your lower belly. clenching around his cock as his pace sped up, his hips slamming into your walls.

“‘m gonna give you all of it, fill you up so much,” he tightens his grip on your hip, using his free hand to spread you open further to see his cum leaking from your hole around his cock, driving him over the edge.

he blows his load and fills your cunt, rocking your hips with his. you met your high that shaked your entire body while your eyes rolled back and had your toes curling.

you both catch your breath as he still remains inside of you, still throbbing at the sight of you.

“you’re gunna make me wanna fuck another load inside of you.”

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :

sylus 𓅨 sent you a voice message.

he lets out a low grunt in the beginning of the voice message. “sweetie..” he sighs deeply, desperation in his voice. “i don’t mean to trouble you but i’m afraid i need you urgently. please hurry home soon.”

he lets out a low groan as his half lidded eyes fall on you, followed by a chuckle. his crimson gaze locks onto you, his lips slightly parted as he strokes his cock a bit faster than before.

you were still frozen by the doorway to your shared bedroom as you admired the scene that played out in front of you. a surge of lust pulsed through you, a tingling sensation blossomed from your core and spread through  your legs.

he looked good like this. his black button up shirt hung open, revealing the sculpted lines of his abs. his belt undone and his pants pushed down enough to reveal his cock that he lazily stroked in his hand. his face slightly flushed as his mouth remained slightly parted as he let out small pants while his ears drooped low.

you locked the door behind you as you crawled onto the bed, settling yourself right in between his thighs. “enjoying the view?” he teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he raises a brow. “care to lend a hand sweetie?”

you let out a breathy chuckle, straightening up to lean in and kiss him. your hand instinctively moved to rub the back of his ears earning a low groan while his eyes fluttered closed at your touch. “always so shameless aren’t you sy?” you whisper against his lips as you continue to stroke the back of his ears.

you place small kisses down his jaw to his neck, teasing him as you trail lower and lower. your tongue tracing the outlines of his abs and muscles.

you come face to face with his cock, already throbbing and hot pink with arousal. you kiss the base of his cock, trailing up and down his length with your lips before tugging on it gently as you place the tip in your mouth.

his hands immediately interlace in your hair. the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive shaft was too much to bear, too good, he wished you’d never stop.

“fuck,” a low groan rumbles at the back of his throat followed by uneven pants. sylus throws his head back a little but looks back down to watch you. your eyes met his crimson ones as you release him from your mouth with a pop.

the feeling of his calloused hand could never compare with your mouth and tongue running up and down his length, your saliva dropping down and squelching on his hard cock.

“taste so good sy,” you moaned, placing a few tender kisses on his tip as you ran your hands up and down on his bare thighs.

his ears perked up once he heard that. he can’t finish in your mouth. he needs to fill you up. breed you till his heart content.

he lost all of his control, pushing you off him, your back hitting the soft plush of the mattress. you yelp in surprise as you feel him work off your shirt and bra urgently. he breathes you in, the scent of your bare skin filling his senses. his warm breath brushing over you, sending goosebumps across your body. “you smell divine,” he murmurs, kissing the skin of your chest before slowly moving towards the swell of your tits.

he takes your nipple into his mouth, dragging his tongue on it while he starts to suck. your eyes flutter close while your hands find their way to the back of his ears, making his ears twitch and his tail perk up.

his hands make quick work, pulling your bottoms down before tugging off the last piece of clothing that restricted him from entering.

“gonna give me a whole litter sweetie? keep you full of me?”

sylus sinks his thick heavy cock into your wet heat, your walls trying to welcome his length. your hands slide over his arms to rest on his broad shoulders, choked whimpers tumble out of your lips.

“so fucking tight,” he curses breathlessly,  your mind turning static with each drag of his cock against your sweet spot. it’s normally not like this with him, but he’s so desperate and feral right now.

the restraints of his animalistic urges were crumbling once he was finally inside of you. the way he effortlessly yanks you up with his calloused hands and wraps them around your thighs to fill you to the brim. he groans at the idea of stuffing you full of his seed, the warmth of your pussy was addicting that he didn’t want to leave. 

a guttural groan and curses escape him as he picks up the pace and thrusts upwards mercilessly. “i’m close sweetie..will you let me fill you sweetie? pump your tight pussy full of my cum,”

you let out a breathless yes as his hand rests on your stomach and presses it down. his words were barely audible to you now as he leaves open mouthed kisses. his teeth sinking into your soft skin, marking you his.

he could almost taste blood on his lips from biting his bottom lip too hard as he watches your belly bulge with each hard thrusts he gives. heavy balls slap against the curve of your ass, each thrusts of his seems to grow harsher, more deeper.

in absolute bliss, he finally fills you up and paints your insides white with thick spurts of his seed. obviously he doesn’t forget you. your orgasm hits you when he continues to pump inside of you, circling your sensitive clit in slow motion, incoherent whimpers until you feel your voice giving out.

“so good to me,” he murmurs, running a hand through your hair. he lowers himself toward you, peppering your face with sweet kisses and giving you kitten licks on the marks he’s bitten you on as you recover from your high.

“you’re gonna make a wonderful mother to my litter sweetie.” he murmurs, before sitting up, his cock still hard.

“sy please..’s too much” you whine as he lets out a low chuckle, “relax, you can handle it sweetie.”

this is my only blog. i do not have any other accounts where i post my content.

[witch-hazels-musings]

seeing you get hit

Genre: angst/comfort NEUVILLETTE x GN reader  |  Anthology warning: the reader is punched in the face, kicked (2xs), mention of pain and discomfort / Mesulines are treated unkindly and spoken too derogatorily / Neuvillette obliterates a guy (oh also you wake up in his bed -- fufu) Synopsis: *character* becomes progressively worried about you not returning - as the hours tick by, they notice a commotion has started and find you in distress as they check it out. Quickly they head to where you were and, well, their reaction to seeing you being accosted by someone in the middle of the city, let’s just say they took matters into their own hands

"Sir, please calm down," you said, raising your hands to appease the irate man waving about. You moved to position yourself between him and the Melusine and could feel her trembling as she latched onto your clothes.

"How dare you raise your voice to me!" he shouted, swatting at your hands, forcing you to shuffle backward toward the canal. With how tightly the Melusine stood beside you, it became increasingly difficult to not trip over her.

"I can see you're angry -"

"I'm not angry, I'm annoyed. I want an apology from that - that thing, now!" He jutted his hand toward the Melusine and she hid further behind your leg. Rage billowed off him like salty wind on the high seas, every transgression equalling small cuts that made you wince. You knew there were those who dislike the Melusines, but you never had the disgusting privilege of meeting one - until now.

"I did say I was sorry, sir," she mumbled, to terrified to speak louder than a gentle caress of water over shallow rocks.

"There, will that satisfy you?" you asked, hand against his chest to keep him from moving closer. He locked eyes with you, shoulders heaving, face flush and red. His stare darted between you and her, back and forth, increasing in frustration. You moved until he couldn't see her at all. "Leave."

His lips curled into a feral sneer. "You think you're bravely protecting it, huh? If it's so important, let it face me-"

"Her."

"What?"

"I'm protecting her."

Rage swept over him and, without thinking, you shoved the Mesuline to the side and took the full force of his blow.

---

Neuvillette made his way through the crowd, chin lifted as he carefully took in the people. Some smiled at him, others bowed their heads in dutiful respect. He minded neither, but returned their gestures with a kind nod.

He rarely had intentions when he wandered through the city. It was typical for him to meander like a slow moving river carving a lazy path to nowhere in particular but today he felt a strong desire to happen upon someone. You. One who had grown rather close to him over the last several months, one who, at times, would come by to, 'check in on him,' while he worked, one who found a habit of leaving bottles of mineral-rich water on his desk when he was away. He found your company, pleasing.

Though, so far, his unassuming searching had come up empty. Did you make mention of leaving Fontaine today? He couldn't remember.

Near the canal, frustrated voices billowed on the wind. A crowd had formed in a rather unusual way. He stared, unable to see through the bunched people when something tugged on his leg.

Neuvillette pushed through the crowd. They jumped out of the way and tripped over themselves to allow him through while he looked ahead at the sight beyond their breach and felt the blackness of the sea consume him.

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" the Mesuline shouted, her eyes filled with worry.

---

"Are you okay?" The Mesuline asked, her face inches from yours as you coughed and blinked through the white. A high-pitched ring clogged your ears so you opened your mouth to clear the noise only to gasp at the pain it caused.

"You stupid -- so desperate to go down with those fucking things? Fine!" The man shouted. You looked his way just in time to see his leg fly toward your stomach. It sent you careening into the stone pathway and knocked the Mesuline halfway into the water. You tried to grab her, but she slipped from your grip when you landed on your arm, it bent unnaturally in your tumble. You cried out but that didn't stop him from slamming his foot into your chest.

Gasping, you rolled onto your back and stared at the blinding sky. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. The Mesuline rushed toward you and you lifted a shaking arm to block them from the man's wrath.

People screamed and rushed forward to grab the man as his foot came down toward you but all you saw was radiant blue rising toward the sky, and from its shimmer came the rain.

A massive wave rose from the canal and covered the land in a shallow, unmoving layer of crystal-clear water. You could make out the bodies of onlookers but they seemed frozen, more like mirages, glistening in quiet stasis. The buildings of Fontaine reflected in the mirror-like water, making your stomach flip, but the hovering figure in the eerie blue turned your skin cold.

"What is - what's happening?" the man asked, panic seeping from him as he searched for familiar ground. He looked at his feet only to shout and stumble onto his backside. "Monsters! I told you! Those things are monsters!" He pointed to the Mesuline who was now securely tucked against your chest. She trembled, buried her face against you and held on so tightly it made you wince.

"You are mistaken," a voice said and the water fluttered, every droplet alight with energy it couldn't bear. "I am the monster you seek."

Through bleary, rain-blinded eyes, you watched the figure descend before the man and, when it was close enough, you recognized its face.

Neuvillette.

Beads of water lept from the basin to reach him like hands pawing to touch even a thread of their so-called God. You could sense the energy in the shallow pool, feel it in every drop of rain that cascaded across your face but none of it touched Neuvillette. He remained - unaffected.

"Iudex ..." the man said, his voice barely audible even in the strange quiet. Senses returning to him, he scrambled to a low, deep bow and splayed his hands beneath Neuvillette's hovering feet. "Monsieur, please, this is all just a terrible mistake."

"Have the rules of Order been unclear to you?"

"I - I don't understand."

"Your crime has been witnessed by many and yet, you stand before me, denying all accusations?"

"P-Please, Monsieur. T-they attacked me, I was just defending myself."

"It appears communication with the accused is going poorly. I shall afford you one final chance before I render judgment."

"Judgement? What-you can't!" The man stood and came up to Neuvillette's hips. "You may be the Iudex, but you can't sentence me! I deserve to be tried. You'll see - you'll see then it was all a mistake."

Neuvillette glanced your way, his eyes narrowing. When he looked back at the man, all the color drained from his face. "By order of -"

"No, wait! Please!" The man raised his hands and Neuvillette did the same.

"I render you, guilty." Power boiled below the surface and set the world rumbling. "Bow your head, and be sanctified," Neuvillette said and with his judgment, a pillar of water burst from below and consumed the man until there was nothing left.

When the waters receded, Neuvillette made his way to you. Each step steady, measured, undisturbing of the waters beneath him. He knelt at your side, laid one hand on your forehead and another on the trembling Melusine who hid further against your body.

"Neu --" you said, pain taking your voice.

"I am here," he hummed and you fell away like the tide.

---

When you awoke, you found yourself surrounded by lapping silk. Cool fabric warmed by your body heat. It hurt to lift yourself up, but only slightly. It seemed your mind remembered the pain of the day before while your body didn't. You touched your chin but it felt normal.

"I see you are awake," a voice echoed in the room but you couldn't see them. Giant rods on each corner of the bed held up a royal curtain that obscured your vision.

You were tempted to slip free from the sheets when the pitter-patter of feet held you in place and from the nothing several Melusines rushed to greet you. Each was more excited than the last. They swarmed you with thanks and laughter, sweeping you up in their joyous voices.

Another being appeared near the edge of the bed, except his presence made you go still. He moved gracefully to sit beside you and instinctually you moved so he had more room. He noticed.

Neuvillette frowned. "I have frightened you," he said, sorrowful as dropped his gaze.

"What? No, I'm not -" You reached for him then pulled back at the last minute. He noticed. "I'm not afraid of you. I swear."

He contemplated your reply for what felt like forever before nodding in acceptance. "I hope you do not mind the accommodations. I had little place else to take you."

You tried to not think about it too much. It was almost certain this was - as you now suspected - his room. "It's fine," you replied and hoped the shadows didn't betray the heat rising in your cheeks.

"I am pleased to hear." Neuvillette smiled and let his eyes drift to the Mesulines surrounding you. "I believe thanks are in order."

"You're the one who saved me though."

"That may be true, yet it was you who protected the Mesulines, was it not?"

Your palm went flush against one of their backs. You didn't think much at the time, it was just - "It was the only thing to do."

"Indeed," he said, his eyes soft, kind, and fixed on your own. You dropped them under the pressure only for your heart to stop when his hand cupped your chin so he could look at you again. "I am grateful."

You looked at him, tried to breathe, tried to force words - any words - through your throat but all you could manage were several shallow nods to which he responded by running his finger across your cheek - leaving you drowning.

[samw1se]

I was born blind in my left eye. It never got fixed. Many of these points are true in my experience, except I still have an eyeball. Here are some additional fun facts from my realm of experience:

-my elementary school knew I was blind in one eye but did not tell my parents. I started to get a little farsighted in the 4th grade so I went to get readers and the eye doctor told me, a nine year old girl, that my life was forever fucked and I’d never be fully independent, never drive, never go to college, because I was disabled and it was too late to fix it. We got a second opinion. And then a third.

- (you can try to fix my kind of blindness up until about the age of five because the brain is still really elastic and capable of fixing the broken shit. They fix it by putting a patch over your good eye to force your bad eye to see. They tried it when I was nine but it was too late, so I essentially spent a year having my life ruined by being suddenly completely blind all the time and it sucked ass.)

- you make a great marksman and baseball batter once you figure out how your lack of depth perception works. Not a great outfielder though.

- things sometimes just kind of vanish on you. I got a massive concussion as a kid from running into a pole head on. The pole had been there as long as I could remember. I interacted with the pole every day. But one day I was running and the last thing I remember is thinking, hey, where did the pole go? Like the equipment holding it up was still there but the pole just seemed gone. This also happened several times to me when trying to catch pop flies or headbutt soccer balls. They’d just go away.

- people will indeed forget all the time and throw shit at you from the blind side and hit you in the head, or hug you and scare the shit out of you. A boy asked me out once after he hit me with a frisbee on my blind side.

- and then some people will always think of you when they encounter one eyed things. When I was an RA in college, some of my residents were so very pleased to bring me a one-eyed goldfish they’d found in the feeder tank at the pet store 😩 we named him one eyed Willy and he lived for like five years and survived two cross country trips in a car (in a Nalgene bottle both ways)

- I don’t have a traditional lazy eye (my eyeball can see but there is no connection between it and my brain so the message goes unrecieved) so I don’t really have much of a wandering eye, unlike other folks with amblyopia. I can also only cross my good eye, I cannot wink with my good eye without moving my entire face (and I had to learn how to do this by pushing my cheek and forehead muscles together with my hands until I could do it on my own so I look very stupid) and my good eye also tends to have trouble when looking at blue light for too long since it gets all the strain.

-additionally, the only times my eye seems to look lazy is in the occasional picture. I call it my googly eye.

- re writing advice: I took a writing class in college where we spent a lot of time journaling about our own bodies and then writing stories with what we had learned… my wonderful teacher guessed that I was blind in my left eye because of how I described things. I never used left or right when talking about objects being around characters’ bodies, only front and back. She fucked me up with that one.

- I get a lot of bruises on my left arm because I struggle with depth perception when walking around corners/doors on that side

- they gave me glasses as a kid to try to fix it after patching didn’t work (leading to the discovery that I don’t have a traditional lazy eye) and the left side was the biggest and thickest fucking lens you’ve ever seen and the right side was just normal glass no rx. It made the glasses sit crooked on my face so I stopped wearing them.

- they test you for amblyopia during your drivers license test and I cheated both times I’ve had to go take it 🙃 they put a ball on one lens and a box on the other and they ask if the ball is inside or outside the box and I didn’t see no goddamn ball but the man next to me said it was inside so I did too.

- if I hadn’t cheated, I could still get a license, just with a special note on it, which i didn’t know both times I cheated.

- and yes, cannot agree more with being a safe ass driver. People get frustrated because I follow so far behind other cars and give people so much room all the time but I have a clean ass driving record.

- following that, I have a hard time sitting in the front seat when someone else is driving, especially if they are tailgaters because I feel like I am always about to crash. My husband, a notorious tailgater, says I have an invisible break I hit whenever he’s too close to someone.

- my parents made me go to a chiropractor as a kid to see if the reasoning for my blindness was a pinched nerve. It did not work.

- a redditor once told me he would end himself if he were ‘as cursed as’ me because the idea of being blind in one eye was so insanely distasteful to him. I tried explaining to him that it’s literally the only life I’ve ever known and he kept trying to tell me it was disgusting and unnatural and I lived a hideous life. I was like, dude. Go to therapy.

- if you are blind in one eye but still have an eyeball, you have one fun fact for Two Truths and a Lie always directly on hand and no one will ever guess that’s a truth.

- I am especially clumsy, and sometimes when I get up to do something and start knocking shit down, my husband plays the Godzilla theme song in his phone and it always makes me die laughing.

- when my parents found out, they demanded to know why I didn’t tell them, and I had to explain to them that it was literally all I’ve ever known, how did I know it was wrong? I thought everyone could only see one side of their nose.

Sorry this got long. I can’t sleep lol.

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[papayadays]

🧸 + denial. realization. obsession. + lando (maybe a little friends to lovers 🤭)

a/n: ohhh maddie i love your brain!! (oops i kinda went overboard for this)

you and lando had known each other for what felt like ages. the two of you had gone to the same country club when you were younger, both of you often following your parents. you instantly hit it off, becoming buddies as you wandered around the country club together.

since then, you and lando had become fast friends normally, staying close despite lando making it into formula 1. you still kept in touch as much as you could with countless facetimes, online games, and texts about each other’s day. you often couldn’t go to races, having been busy with work; however, when max and the rest of lando’s friends in quadrant decided they were going to go watch lando race, an invitation was extended to you.

you were hesitant at first, knowing the expensive lounges they were going to choose, but max said that he’d pay for it. (which meant that lando would pay for it, most likely) so now, you were getting out of the car, heading towards the track. you and ria were laughing about something when some teenage girls tapped you on the shoulder. “excuse me, are you lando’s girlfriend?”

your eyes widened with surprise, shaking your head. “no, i’m a close friend of his,” you answered. glancing up, you expected ria to be just as surprised as you were, but she gave you an amused smile.

“that was odd,” you commented to her, walking towards the mclaren garage.

“right, odd,” ria murmured, but it was almost a half-hearted agreement.

you were about to respond when you heard a voice behind you call your name. spinning around, you saw lando, who had a look of surprise on his face. “you’re here!” he grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in a tight hug. lando nuzzled his face in your hair as he spoke. “i didn’t know you were coming, but i’m so glad you’re here.”

“glad to be here, lan,” you beamed. you both pulled back, maybe a bit reluctantly, and turned back to the rest of the group, who gave you the same amused glance ria had. but to add to that, the mechanics in the garage also shared a similar expression that you couldn’t decipher.

“this your girlfriend, norris?” one of the mechanics asked, chuckling. lando’s eyes changed into something veiled, something you couldn’t place. “you two make a good couple.”

“thanks, she’s one of my best friends,” lando responded, throwing an arm around your shoulder. you nodded, smiling at him, though something in your gut twisted at his words. best friends, that’s what you and lando were, so why weren’t you happy with that?

but. wait.

lando had said thanks to the compliment about being a good couple. and he hadn’t necessarily said you weren’t a couple. your mind was reeling with the implications, heart fluttering at the thought that maybe you liked him. what made it more suspenseful was that he quite possibly felt the same.

“hello? you good?” lando laughed, waving a hand in front of your face as you blinked. “spaced out, huh?”

you chuckled, though somewhat nervous, and tugged at his hand. the surprise and faint hope in his eyes wasn’t lost on you. “wanna go for a quick walk?” you suggested. “my brain’s a little busy.”

lando quickly nodded, hand on your waist as he guided you out into a quiet area in the paddock. with your newfound epiphany, you were paying attention to every single detail. had lando always put his hand on your back? when did he start? did his touch always make your heart flutter?

“are you okay?” lando asked softly, eyes seeming green in the sunlight.

“i’m fine,” you replied. “it’s just…” you trailed off, not brave enough to voice your hopes about something that could change your friendship.

“just what?” lando questioned, scrunching up his nose in confusion.

“everyone’s been asking me if i’m your girlfriend lately,” you started.

“is it bothering you? i could-”

“lando, no, it’s not that,” you said, cutting him off. “but i was thinking. if you’d ever thought it about. us dating, i mean.”

lando glanced at you, surprise in his expression as he took a step towards you. “i do think it about it,” he nodded. “every time i look at you.”

your jaw dropped at the revelation, and you mentally kicked yourself for being so stupid. he had had feelings for a while now? and you had still maintained that you were friends? “what if,” you started, “we could tell people that it was true?”

lando’s mouth curled up into a grin, arms wrapping around your waist. “is that what you want?”

instead of answering him verbally, you pulled him down, smiling as you kissed him.

[etherealyoungk]

dance in the rain | kim mingyu

SUMMARY: in which mingyu drags you into the rain to play for fun.

PAIRING: mingyu x reader

THEMES: established relationship, fluff

WARNINGS: kissing, terms of endearment, rain

WORDCOUNT: 1300

A/N: this was such a random idea because i remembered how much mingyu loves throwing water on carats during the encore and just thought he'd be the type to drag you into the rain and play. also bc it's been raining sooo much here.

"oh my god it's raining again", you declare dramatically as you turn to look out the window. the rain pours down hard, the grey clouds hanging in the air with no sign of disappearing anytime soon. it had been like this since last night and persisted all afternoon.

"i thought you liked the rain", he counters, giving you a glance from the couch, his phone in one hand.

"i do! just maybe not when it's raining non-stop and feels like the end of the world", you exaggerate and he chuckles softly from where he's sitting.

mingyu watches you for a few seconds before he stands up, walks towards the front door, and opens it. the gush of cold air and the amplified sound of the rain pouring down makes you snap your head up.

"gyu what are you going?", you ask, confused as he just stands there by the door, watching the rain fall in the front yard of your house. "watching the rain", he says, like it was no big deal. he reaches out to collect some drops in the palm of his hand. you watch for a few seconds before getting up and walking over to him.

"wouldn't it be fun to play in the rain? this reminds me of back in college when me and the boys would do the most insane shit and jump around in the rain", he says, reminiscing. one thing about mingyu was that he loved the water and has always been drawn to it. staying true to his golden retriever nature, he loved splashing around in the water, playing around and having fun.

he turns around to you, a mischievous smile slowly gracing his lips. you look at him, the dots in your head connecting when he looks at you with that look—that look that he was definitely up to no good.

you raise an eyebrow at him, instinctively taking a step back. “oh no,” you warn, already sensing trouble brewing, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "babe", he says, his tone almost pleading, that grin playing on his lips like that could help convince you as he takes a step forward.

he gives you a fake frown before turning and he runs right into the rain, the cold water drenching him instantly. you gasp. he only laughs, and it's an infectious sound that cuts through the loud rain. "gyu you’re insane!” you tell, but he only grins back at you, his pretty canines peeking out. he reaches his hand out, beckoning you to join him.

"no way", you tell from the doorstep, watching the rain pour down on mingyu, but he looks so content. "babe please, this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience", he says, trying to persuade you, stepping forward.

"kim mingyu, don't you dare", you warn again, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief. "it'll be fun", is all he says and before you can protest further, his hand holds yours, tugging you into the rain.

the cold rain hits you, shocking you as it soaks through your clothes. “mingyu!” you yelp, water streaming down, drenching you and splattering against your cheeks.

"you're such as ass, oh my god", you exclaim after a few seconds when you realise the absurdity of the situation. you're soaked head to toe, standing in the cold rain because of mingyu. the chill of the water and rain clings to your skin, but it's hard to be mad at mingyu when he looks at you like that - like you're his entire world.

"dance with me", he says, his eyes still sparkling as he reaches out for your hand. he gently pulls you closer, his other hand resting on your waist. depsite the cold rain, you can feel the warmth radiate from his touch.

with a soft smile, he begins to slowly sway, guiding you both into a gentle rhythm. your hands instinctively find their way to his shoulders, and for a moment, everything else fades away; the rain, the chill, the chaos - it was just you and him.

mingyu spins you playfully and you giggle softly as you twirl, and he dips you, holding onto you securely. you both burst into a fit of laughter before he lifts you back up, holding you against him.

“see? it’s fun!” he says, his grin wide and bright, completely unbothered by the rain-soaked chaos.

“you know what would make this moment even better?” mingyu asks, his voice soft. “what?” you ask, looking up at him. the rain had slowed down a bit now, falling a little slower.

before you have time to process his actions, he swoops down and lifts you into his arms, cradling you bridal-style. “mingyu!” you exclaim with a mix of surprise and delight as he holds you close. he spins you around and you laugh, holding onto him.

"okay okay, i get it", you tell after a few spins, still giggling, clutching onto him tightly.

finally, he slows down, stopping to look into your eyes, the playful glint replaced by something softer and more intimate. holding you steady, he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “now, for the grand finale,” he murmurs.

with the rain falling on you both, he closes the distance, capturing your lips with his in a soft, sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that feels like a delicate promise. you melt into his embrace, feeling the cool rain on your skin contrasting with the warmth radiating from his body. as the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around his neck. when he finally pulls back, his gaze finds yours again, and you can see the affection he holds in his eyes,

“so, was that the best kiss of your life?” he asks with that mischievous grin of his.

you roll your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips “maybe”, you say with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant.

“maybe?", he repeats, fake pouting. “i guess i’ll have to step up my game", he says with a twinkle in his eyes. "well, good luck with that,” you shoot back playfully. he laughs again, still holding you securely in his arms. "challenge accepted".

"you're ridiculous", you tell, smacking his chest . "and yet you still love me", he says without missing a beat, grinning at you.

“look at us,” he says, a dreamy smile on his face. "soaked, silly, but happy.” you couldn’t help but grin at his words, your heart swelling with warmth.

he turns around, carrying you inside and setting you down in front of the bathroom. you change quickly, slipping into some dry and warm clothes. you put on mingyu's hoodie, and it envelopes you like a warm hug, the familiar scent wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. when you emerge from the room, mingyu is already in a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled and damp from the rain. he looks at you with a soft smile, and you feel a rush of affection.

"ramen?", he prompts and he smiles at the way your face lights up at the mention of ramen. "yes please", you tell, following mingyu to the kitchen. he fills a pot with water and sets it on the stove, before turning around to face you, the both of you waiting for the water to boil. he crosses the kitchen in a few quick strides, lifting you onto the counter and you sigh softly as he looks at you, his hands resting on your waist. his lips are on yours, kissing you again and warmth blooms in your chest as you kiss him back.

you pull back slightly, looking at him. "by the way, if i fall sick tomorrow, i'm blaming you", you tell, poking his cheek lightly. he smiles softly.

"i'll take care of you sweetheart, don't you worry", he assures, mumbling against your lips before kissing you again.

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[delilahsturniolo]

i love you, i’m sorry

— m.s

in which . . . matt accidentally confesses something he shouldn’t have in the heat of an argument.

genre/trope . . . enemies to lovers, angst. (resolved)

warnings . . . arguing, kissing & more.

written by . . . @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or re use my works. do not take inspiration without asking permission first. happy reading! :)

“lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me.”

“i love you i’m sorry.”

you and matt have known each other your entire lives, which was unfortunate for the both of you. you may be asking yourself, if you’ve known each other for so long shouldn’t you be best friends?

well, it was quite the opposite actually. you and matt have hated each other for whatever reason, it was a rivalry between you two. you guys couldn’t even be in the same room without bickering, when your family and matt’s family hung out it was absolute hell for you.

all you wanted was to avoid matt at all costs, no matter the circumstances. however, you always got along with matt’s brothers.

you and matt never had a reason to hate each other, in fact you tried being nice to him sometimes. you both just never got along, bickering and complaining about each other 24/7. if you got a dollar for how much you both piss each other off everyday, you’d be filthy rich.

but, matt wasn’t a complete jerk. he didn’t completely despise you, sometimes he held the door open for you. other times, he would slam it shut in your face. matt absolutely adored teasing you, and doing small gestures just to make you annoyed at him. that was something he never failed at.

you had sort of a mixed and unsure feeling about matt. you were confused, you didn’t know how he felt about you. did he hate you, or not? even better question, did you truly hate him?

yes, of course you did. you were supposed to, you can’t love him. but…you felt something different over the past few weeks. as much as you hated to admit it, nowadays you didn’t mind his presence. just a few months ago, you’d rather get hit by a bus than be near him. but other days, he pissed you off more than anything. you hated him…but you didn’t at the same time.

you didn’t know what this feeling was, it made you sick. falling for your childhood enemy? it was impossible, it couldn’t happen. you hated it, you couldn’t make it stop. all you could do was push down your true feelings, and keep pretending.

so now here you were, in the present. it was pretty late in the night. you were at the triplets house, in the kitchen. nick was out for a space camp photoshoot, while chris was sleeping in his room.

you leaned against the counter, scrolling mindlessly on your phone as you popped a potato chip in your mouth, feeling the salty sensation sink on your tongue. quietly humming to yourself, you took in the peaceful silence. that is, until you heard the front door open.

matt walked in the house, going right into the kitchen. he huffed as he saw you, rolling his eyes. you bit your lip, not even acknowledging him.

matt walked over to the counter, shoving you over with his body so he could get by. you grunted, your phone clattering to the floor.

“dude, can you not?” you scoffed, pissed off as you picked your phone up from the floor. matt turned on the sink, beginning to wash the dishes.

“can you not with the attitude?” matt mocked you, not even batting you an eye. usually you would just flip him off and leave, but you didn’t this time. you wanted to confront him, show him that you weren’t a pussy.

to the both of you, arguing was a competition. you would just keep going on and on until one of you backed down, and usually it would be you. however, not this time.

“i don’t have a fucking attitude.” you crossed your arms, the back of his head facing you as he aggressively scrubbed a plate. you were testing his limits, and you found pleasure in that.

“whatever floats your boat.” matt shrugged, laughing to himself. “do you always have to be so annoying?” he continued, which only provoked you more.

you rolled your eyes and sealed the bag of chips shut. “do you always have to be so mean to me all the time?” you shot back at him. matt turned off the sink water, wiping his hands before turning around to face you. “i’m not mean, sweetheart. come on, is that all you got?” matt teased you, knowing it would make you annoyed.

“shut up!” you raised your voice at him slightly, making him scoff in disbelief.

“what the fuck is your problem?” matt raised his voice back at you, you weren’t in the mood for this right now. your frustration was building up by every passing second.

“you, matt! you’re my problem!” you shouted back at him.

“my fucking goodness, y/n. you’re always starting shit, aren’t you?” matt complained, throwing his hands up in the frustration. you simply said nothing.

“what? cat got your tongue?” matt darkly chuckled. you rolled your eyes, starting to walk away. matt only followed after you.

you stomped outside into the driveway, it was the dead of night. you suddenly felt matt grab your arm, turning you around to face him.

“let me go, matt.” you spoke fiercely, trying to yank away from him. his grip only grew tighter, he completely ignored your protests.

“y/n, stop it. listen to me.” matt told you, you only shook your head.

“get away from me, matt. i hate you.” you remarked, matt shook his head. “no you don’t.” he pulled you closer.

the cold wind blew in your hair, matt’s eyes pierced into yours. “what are you talking about?” you questioned him.

“you don’t hate me.” matt shrugged, you weren’t even trying to pull away from him anymore. something was drawing you to him, and you didn’t mind it for once.

“yes i do! you don’t care about me!” you argued back, matt completely snapped at you.

“of course i care, y/n! how could i not care? i care more than anything in the world.” he shouted.

“since when did you start caring about me!?” you scoffed in disbelief.

“since fucking forever, you idiot!”

and those exact words, the moment they came out of his mouth silenced you. which by the way, was a rare occurrence. your lips parted slightly. “what?” you murmured.

matt let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i love you, okay? i love you so fucking much, goddamnit! i’m sorry i fell in love, i can’t do shit about it and…i didn’t want it to happen, y/n.” matt blurted out. what? this was the absolute last thing you were expecting.

“you…what?” you spoke softly. your mind was racing with a million thoughts at once. matt was in love with you? your heart began to beat faster as you looked into his eyes.

“you think i wanted this to happen? trust me, i’m just as confused as you.” matt’s voice broke. you both stood across from each other, goosebumps raising onto your arms.

“i love you too, matt.” you whispered. matt’s gaze immediately softened.

“but…the thing is i can’t. i can’t love you. it won’t work out. we can’t be together and you know that.” you muttered, looking away from him as you said that.

“you don’t get it. it’s not that easy to lose feelings for you, if i could i would. i can’t lose feelings for someone i’ve loved for so fucking long.” matt’s voice came out shaky as he expressed all of his emotions.

you sighed, stepping closer to him. he looked down at you, his eyes growing glossy. your hand traveled up his chest and to the side of his neck, matt’s breath hitched at this action.

before he even knew what was going on, you leaned in, pulling him in for a kiss.

both of your lips connected, your heart felt full, as if you had been needing this your entire life. matt groaned against your lips as the kiss grew more and more passionate, more hungry.

you both wanted this badly, you craved each other more than anything. this felt so wrong in your brain, but yet so fucking right in your heart.

matt’s hands gripped your waist tightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips continued to dance with his, you felt his soft and supple lips crash against yours once more.

matt pulled away from the kiss, not letting go of you though. you looked up at him, a smirk creeping up on your face.

“mmm..you’re not so bad after all.” matt hummed, his finger lifing your chin up with dominance.

“i’m gonna murder you, sturniolo.” you teased, matt only chuckled, his hand moving to your cheek, caressing the skin gently.

“you wouldn’t.” matt smiled down at you, before leaning into your face once more, his lips colliding with yours again.

maybe loving him wasn’t so bad after all.

© delilahsturniolo

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