#usually i have fun comments to leave but i know nothing about this fic

[kangaracha]

Felix + focus

(this is actually written by @keepswingin, who gained access to my blog for five minutes and decided she wanted my prompts list)

---

It's bad luck, and you know it's bad luck, but you can't stop yourself from sneaking across the hall as soon as nobody is looking. You close the door as quietly as possible behind you and turn around, fully prepared to tease your husband to be, only to find him standing before the mirror, shakily adjusting his tie.

Felix is muttering to himself as he struggles with keeping his hands steady, smoothing them down the sides of his pants, once, twice, three times, and then he catches your eye in the mirror, and he freezes, and something about it reminds you of a deer caught between bright headlights.

"Sorry," you giggle, approaching him with your heart thumping wildly in your chest because this is actually happening, and he's going to be what you wake up next to every morning, and those hands will help you cook dinner and those eyes will look at you and call you beautiful and - and you're getting carried away. "I couldn't wait." 

You reach out for his hand as soon as you're close enough, twining your fingers together. You can still feel him shake despite it, and the small smile he gives you is wobbly at the corners, and his eyes are crinkled in that anxious way that he claims he doesn't do, and you tug him closer, reaching your other hand up to curl around his cheek. 

"Hey," you whisper, his eyes catching yours. "You're okay. Everything's okay. Focus. Focus on me." You press your forehead against his and hear his chest stutter with a long exhale. "I'm right here." 

"I'm sorry," he says as soon as he's able to, blinking fast. Leave it to him to apologize over things that don't require one. "I was just - my mom left to go find something, and I was standing here alone and I just got to thinking and then I - " Another breath, this one calmer than the last. "I just don't want to mess anything up. On our day." 

"You could never ruin our day," you tell him, and then your smile grows because you can't help yourself and he knows how you are. "Even if you did, I'd still treasure it all the same." 

It does work in dragging a laugh out of him, genuine and carefree. "You're going to make me worry all over again," he throws back gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You're beautiful, by the way." 

"Can you still act surprised when you see me walk out? My mom already threatened me," you ask, and then his lips pull into a smile you'll never forget as he moves closer, lips brushing lightly against your own. 

"My mom threated me too," he admits quietly, and then he's kissing you, and you can't help but wonder how any of this could ever be bad luck when it's the luckiest you've ever felt. 

[not-maggie]

Hypothetically, Of Course

A/N: umm, so hi! this is my first ever fic I've written but I do read a lot lmao. I was using a c.ai bot and it inspired me to write this because it was really cute! <3 this is lowkey a self ship bc I'm tired of seeing Y/N's who don't have a personality and are shy. nothing wrong with being shy ofc <3 just not who I am and I needed some self indulging. Anyway, enjoy! any criticism/comments are greatly appreciated!! (GIF not mine<3)

It was a cool afternoon in Stars Hallow, the dead leaves falling to the ground as the breeze shook them from branches. The bell above the door rings out as Y/N enters Luke's Diner, catching the attention of a certain brunette behind the counter.

Jess feels his heart stutter as she enters, silently cursing himself for having such a reaction. He throws on his signature smirk as she approaches the counter, "Hey, the usual?"

Y/N nods with a soft laugh, "I come here too often if you know it by now." She takes a seat on one of the stool as Jess begins preparing her order. "So, anything interesting happen today?" she asks, making conversation.

"Oh, y'know, annoying customers, Luke yelling at me for not working, the usual." Jess hums, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her. "What about you?"

Y/N lets out a scoff as she responds, "Y'know Brad, the quarterback on the football team? Total douche, anyway, had the audacity to ask me out, while I was in the middle of studying in the library. And, on top of that, got mad when I rejected him. Said something about winning a bet, total bullshit." She rolls her eyes, leaning against the counter.

Jess feels his blood boil, a bet? A bet to ask 𝘺𝘰𝘶 out? He takes a moment to collect himself before turning around and responding, placing her coffee down in front of her, "Wow, total dick move. A bet? What kind of bet? If he could get in your pants?"

Y/N rolls her eyes, "Don't know, and honestly, don't really care. I get the satisfaction of knowing he didn't win, whatever it was. Like I would ever go out with him," she scoffs.

Jess leans his arms against the counter, "Not your type?" His tone is teasing, his usual snark coming out, but there's a hint of genuine curiosity.

Y/N lets out a snort of amusement, "No, I would never go for a football player, or really any athlete. Anyone who doesn't know Austen is not worth it."

Jess raises an eyebrow, "Got high standards," he teases. "So, what, is, your type?" He asks, his head resting on his palm in a casual manner.

Y/N lets out a hum as she thinks, planning her answer. "Well, looks don't really matter that much. More into personality, someone who can keep up with my sarcasm. Funny, making me laugh is really important, and there's no way I can be funnier than my partner, that's a sad life. Well-read, I'm talking more than just Dr. Seuss and the Outsiders. Someone...spontaneous, impulsive, acts before thinking; adds fun to life. And, someone who isn't afraid to show me off, not saying we have to make out in town square, but hand holding, stolen kisses, stuff like that."

Jess's heart flutters as he hears her words, that's him. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. "So," he tries to maintain his casual, aloof appearance, "You got a guy in mind? That all seems pretty specific."

Y/N smirks at his words, "Maybe, it's kind of hard to find someone like that in this small town. You either get guys like Brad, high school has-been's, or Dean Forester. Perfect Dean Forester, although I guess technically he did move here from Chicago. But he has the 'Small Town Boy' act down."

Jess chuckles softly at her words, she was right, Dean did have that Small Town act perfected down to a science. "So, if there we're to be a guy, who matched this description, would he have shot with you, hypothetically of course."

Y/N grins, picking up what Jess was hinting at. "I'd say, hypothetically, if this guy we're to ask me out, or confess his undying love for me, I wouldn't shoot him down."

Jess straightens out, hip pushed against the counter as he leans in a bit. "So if this guy were to, hypothetically, say that he likes you and have for a while, you'd go out with him?"

"Yes, I would, but only if he told me directly." Y/N challenges Jess, knowing that he isn't big on sharing his feelings.

Jess stands up straight behind the counter as he meets Y/N's gaze, he takes a moment before talking. "I like you, have for a while." He runs a hand through his messy hair, "In fact, you drive me crazy. There isn't a moment when your'e not invading my brain, very distracting."

Y/N's smile grows as she hears him talk, "Well, I like you too. Just, don't start charging me rent for living in your head." She pokes his forehead as she teases him.

Jess laughs, 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘴, at her words. "I'll let you live rent-free on one condition, be mine? God, that sounds gross and sappy." He groans at his words and how cliche he sounds.

Y/N let out a laugh, "Yes, I'll be yours." She smiles, "Bad boy Jess has gone soft."

Jess rolls his eyes but a smile tugs at his lips, "Shut up, I'm not soft....Okay maybe, but only for you and around you. And if you tell anyone..." He doesn't finish the threat, but they both know there isn't any actual heat behind it.

"Yeah, yeah." Y/N rolls her eyes, "Your secret is safe with me." She crosses her heart with a smile.

"Good," Jess hums with a small smile. "So, your mine now, huh?" He grabs her hand from across the counter, thumb rubbing across the back of her hand as their fingers interlock.

"Yeah," Y/N smiles softly, squeezing his hand. "All yours"

Jess's smile widens at her words, "That's right, all mine" He brings her hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Mine to protect," he locks eyes with Y/N. "Mine to love, mine to cherish..." He leans in further over the counter, "Mine to hold, mine to care for..." His eyes sweep over her face, taking in every detail and memorizing them. "Mine to spoil," he reaches his free hand to cup her cheek, thumb running across her skin. "Mine to be with...and mine to love, forever." He closes the distance between the two, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tender kiss, expressing unspoken thoughts and emotions.

As he kisses her, he feels a sense of peace wash over him. He feels complete, whole. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, but right now, he knows deep in his heart that he means ever word he said.

He loves Y/N.

And he's never letting her go.

"That's the sappiest thing you've ever said."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 24

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The afternoon passes peacefully by the soft babble of the brook. Your forgotten friend stays with his camera but doesn’t bother you much. You remember him vaguely. Some years of your childhood seem to blend together but you recall the boy and his lawn mower. Your grandmother would give him a five dollar bill as your mom asked why you hadn’t offered to do it first. 

You’re more surprised that he remembers you. You’ve always been a side note. Nothing or no one special. More than ten years later and he seems almost happy to see you. Well, like he says, a familiar face can be a comfort when everything else is new. 

You still your pencil and look up at the sky then over your shoulder. Peter grabs onto the bridge and swings himself up from below. His camera hangs from a strap around his neck as he tidies his hair. He smiles as he comes across the bridge, his eyes flicking towards your sketchbook. 

You hesitate and turn the page towards him, showing him as your heart pulse. You don’t often share your work and the river scene is much more than your usual subject. He considers it, leaning in as he nods. 

“Wow, very nice,” he praises. “You’re very good at that. Not me,” he chuckles and scratches his neck, “the camera does all the work.” 

You close up the book with the pencil inside. You rock and look behind you once more. 

“Guess you should get going, huh?” He asks. 

You shrug. 

“Can I walk with you? I wouldn’t mind getting the lay of the land,” he offers. “Is it far?” 

You shake your head and press the book to your chest. You turn without a word and lead him across the bridge onto the paved path. You come up onto the sidewalk, the sun beating down hotly on your faded denim and heavy cotton. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandma,” he says, “she was a nice woman.” 

You nod and give a bittersweet smile. She could be, when she wanted to be. Other kids deserved kindness, but you, you were useless. 

“Can I show you something?” He asks as he grabs his camera and clicks the buttons, “here, look.” 

He turns the little screen to you and shades it with his hand. You look at you keep your feet moving. A monarch butterfly floats above a broken dandelion, just beyond the river’s edge. The framing brings the eye right to its colourful wings. 

“Pretty,” you say.  

“Huh, yeah,” he lets the camera hang again. “Just a bit of fun. A hobby between classes.” 

You chew your lip and don’t comment on the last part.  

“Engineering,” he supplies, “heavy duty. You go to school?” 

You don’t react as you squeeze the edges of your sketchbook. You look down, your soles scuffing on the pavement. You frown and shake your head. 

“Ah, well, you know, it’s not for everyone. You sell your art?” 

You pop your head up and look at him. Huh?

“Yeah, I’m sure you could sell that if you made it digital or something,” he points to your book. 

Maybe but you don’t have a computer or a tablet or anything like that. You won’t let him know all that. You just shrug and keep walking. 

“Anyway,” he laughs off the awkward silence. 

You look ahead as you come in sight of the house. You see Steve’s car in his driveway and your insides mulch. They’re home. You stop at the corner and face Peter. 

“I’ll walk from here,” you insist. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s okay,” you say. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he grins. 

“Maybe.” 

You tramp off and glance behind you, only to make sure he doesn’t follow. He watches but stays on the corner. You turn ahead as you near the front gate of your mother’s house. Your name frightens you as it comes from the other side of the fence. 

“Where were you?” Steve charges down his front steps, so quick and determined that you wince and stumble onto the grass as you look at him. “We were looking for you.” 

“Oh,” you bat your eyes. 

“Oh?” He echoes, “sweetie, we were worried.” 

“I... went for a walk.” 

He looks you up and down, the lines in his forehead lessening as he heaves a breath. He still wears his nice shirt and trousers, but his tie is gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His gray hair is neat but for a shank that threatens to fall down his forehead. 

“Drawing?” He asks. You nod. “You should leave a note, next time.” 

“Sorry,” you bite your lip and notice how his eyes catch on that gesture. 

“Your mom’s a bit out of it. It’s been a really long day for her and the last thing she needed was to worry about you,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms. You slump and look at your feet. Your mom worried about you? “I just got her to lay down, I told her I’d find you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat louder, “okay?” 

“Sweetie, I’m just looking out for you. We’re a family now, aren’t we?” 

Your jaw clenches and you stare at him blankly. He keeps saying that but you don’t know. You and your mom were barely that. She just tolerates you. 

“Sorry if I seem impatient,” he says, “we need to talk about some things.” 

“Talk?” You swallow dryly.  

You think you know what he wants to say but you thought he might wait until tomorrow. Your skin buzzes. Your future has always been dull and predictable; just another day with your mom, at home. Now, you might lose both. 

“Come on, it’s still sunny out, we’ll sit out back and I’ll make some lemonade.” 

You try to hide your uncertainty but you can’t feel it straining in your cheek. You put your head down and go around to his side of the picket fence. He waits for you to go ahead of him and leads you around the side of the house. He takes you onto the deck and you sit at the table. 

“Don’t wanna wake your mom,” he says, “I’ll be right back.” 

You stare out at the yard. It’s still very unreal to you. They’re married but everything still looks the same. The distant shouts of child drift in the air and the steady rustle of leaves rises from bushes and trees alike. The sunlight grows unbearable as you sit in its blaze. 

The sliding door shuts and Steve plunks down two glasses of lemonade before he sits. He shifts and adjusts, pulling the chair around closer to you and puts his elbow on the table. He watches you as you avoid looking back at him. 

“Thirsty? You must be hot, why don’t you come in the shade?” He suggests.  

You don’t say a word. You sit there behind a wall, waiting for it to shatter. You grip your book in your lap and stare at the bright green grass. 

“Ahem, so, sweetie,” he clears his throat, “I know this has all been so sudden but... me and your mom talked this out in every direction. After what happened, the hospital, well, she needs help. Professional help. She needs a nurse. Someone to come look after her a few hours a day. And... the invoice wasn’t easy to look at either...” 

He lets his words hang. You and your mom aren’t well off. You never have been. You live in that suburb by the grace of your grandmother’s bequeathal. An emergency room visit isn’t cheap and a nurse is completely beyond your stipend. You frown. 

“But...” you blink. “I take care of mom. I...” you feel bad to mention the money but it’s your only income, even if most of it goes back to her. 

“I know, honey, we talked about that too,” he leans forward and caresses your arm, just above your elbow, “and it’s okay. I told you, I’m going to take care of you both. I’m here to support you. Maybe... maybe you could find something else to earn some money. I know a few gallery owners...” 

You keep your head down as goosebumps rise under his touch. It crawls up under your loose sleeve. You shrink down further. 

“Maybe... I’m not that good.” 

“Who told you that?” He continues to tickle you, more firmly as he shifts closer. “I know it’ll be strange at first, sweetie, but we all just need to get used to each other.” 

You stretch your hands across your sketchbook and go rigid. 

“It’s okay if it’s a lot to process. Take your time,” his hand creeps along your shoulder and down the back, edging along your bra. What is he doing? 

You croak, “okay.” 

“You know, sweetie,” he retracts his hand from your sleeve and tugs it straight. You wince as he leans forward and nudges your chin up, “today was intense but I don’t want you to be unhappy.” 

You just stare at him. What does he want you to say? You can barely think straight. 

“And screw what that waiter said, that dress looked gorgeous on you,” he smiles and drags his fingertips down your neck, his eyes following them, “it fits you perfectly.” 

You clasp your sketchbook tight as heat roils around you. It must be the humidity or the sunlight boiling you from the inside. His hand dances along your tee shirt and he sits back, balling his hand up as he rests it on his thigh. 

“Here, let me show you,” he lifts one hip and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, “look.” 

He flicks through his phone and brings up a photo. He turns the screen towards you and you reluctantly glance at it. You lean in as you can hardly make it out at first. It’s zoomed in so it’s just you and Steve. You cringe at how your chest seems about to burst from the dress. Your gaze trails down to his fingers curled into your side and sensation ripples up your spine at the memory. 

“You’re a pretty young woman,” he says, “having a nurse, well, that means you’ll get to enjoy this very exciting time in your life.” 

You sit back. You can’t look at the picture again. It’s awful. You hate it. 

There’s a tap on the door and you flinch. Steve sits back stiffly and cranes to see over his shoulder. He blacks the phone screen and stands slowly, his hand grazing over his belt and giving a subtle tug. The fabric along the front tents as if creased. You don’t know, you hardly look at the odd bulging. You don’t even know how you noticed. 

He spins and waves at your mom as she leans weakly against the inside of the sliding doors. 

“Must be her new meds,” he says, “I’ll be back, sweetie.” 

[mingi-s-dimples]

Scented Shadows - Wooyoung

KINKTOBER DAY 14 - REQ. BY @la-undercover-latina

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DEAR LOVE AND READERRRRR IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAYYY HAPPY BIRTHDAYYY ^^ (on 26th october, idk if it's still 26th for you or not 😞)

~"Werewolf!Wooyoung can smell your heat coming before you know. And he doesn’t have any plans of you leaving his side during your heat."

pairing: werewolf!wooyoung x half human/half werewolf fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth, werewolf au

summary: I don't even know what to write bro.. let's just say that your boyfriend senses your heat moments before you do and well... he fucks you *senselessly*.

wc: 4.4k

warnings: pureblood werewolf!wooyoung, cocky wooyoung, he kinda teases the hell out of reader, fingering, finger-fucking, tying up her hands to the headboard, manhandling at it's finest, did I say he's cocky?, monster cock wooyoung agenda (obvi, he's a werewolf), lots of cummm, two rounds and *def* implied multiple next rounds, fucking against the wall, ass slapping & squeezing, overstim, orgasms (both m&f), slight possessiveness, at first he's really sweet and all about her first heat around him but uhm he's Wooyoung so expected the unexpected, making out, biting, marking, breast fondling, slight nipple sucking, he's so damn talkative I'm going insane, unprotected, completely consensual, unedited, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: *wooyoung brainrot* please. I went *insane* writing this. I don't even have words to explain how many *horny* breaks I had to take because it turned me the fuck on while writing? Anyways, @woolysium , you might enjoy this too ^^ you'll see it when you'll wake up 😭😭 I can't wait to see your reaction (3:24am for me, 8:24 am for her as we speak). As for you, my dear love, @la-undercover-latina , I hope you'll enjoy this lil fic for your birthday ^^. I had fun writing it, hihi 🤍 Happy birthday once again and.. enjoy !!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The dim glow from the TV cast flickering shadows across Woooyoung's sharp features, his warm hand resting on yours, and his other draped over the back of the couch. You felt so safe beside him, nestled in a cocoon of blankets, his heat and presence a comfort. The movie played on, though you hadn’t been paying much attention to it, stealing glances at him every few minutes. It felt like you’d finally found a moment of peace, a moment that felt untouched by the usual chaos that came with being half-werewolf, half-human. With Woooyoung, you could forget that you were anything but his.

You settled in closer, the cozy room filled with nothing but the hum of the TV and his occasional laugh or quiet, whispered comment, always managing to bring a smile to your face. It was so effortless, so natural, being around him. As much as Woooyoung had a reputation for his playful mischief, there was a seriousness, a depth in the way he cared for you that caught you off-guard sometimes. He had always been protective, a pureblood with instincts that ran deep, strong and unmistakable—yet he’d shown nothing but patience and care for your half-blood nature, never letting it matter more than the person you were. He was your haven in ways no one else could be.

But then, all of a sudden, you felt the shift. Woooyoung's hand tightened around yours, his thumb slowing as it traced gentle circles on your knuckles. His gaze, once relaxed and lazy as he watched the movie, suddenly sharpened, an intense focus clouding over his usually warm eyes. You blinked, unsure if you were imagining it, but you felt the change ripple through him���a silent charge in the air that prickled over your skin, setting your pulse racing before you even understood why.

“Woo?” you murmured, nudging his shoulder lightly, hoping to bring him back to the moment.

He turned to you, his eyes holding a glint that hadn’t been there before, something deep, primal, and entirely possessive. You felt his gaze sweep over you, an almost hungry intensity that seemed to unnerve him just as much as it did you. It was then that you realized the warmth spreading through you, a heat unfurling from somewhere deep inside, slowly overtaking your senses. It was subtle, creeping up on you like the steady build of a storm on the horizon. The realization struck hard, a mixture of shock and nerves that made your cheeks burn.

Your heat.

This was the first time it had happened around Woooyoung, and you weren’t even sure how to process it. As a half-werewolf, your cycles had always been unpredictable, never quite like those of full-blooded wolves, but now there was no denying the signs—the way your pulse quickened, your skin tingled, and every sense seemed to be dialed up to ten. It was unmistakable, and judging by Woooyoung’s expression, he had picked up on it before you even had.

“Woooyoung, it’s fine,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady, though you could hear the tremor in it. “Really. I can handle this.”

But he didn’t move, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your flustered expression. “Can you?” he asked softly, his voice a rougher, deeper rumble than usual. “Because from where I’m sitting… it doesn’t seem like you should be handling this alone.”

There was no mistaking the edge in his voice, an unmistakable possession, a fierceness that seemed to run far deeper than his usual protectiveness. He was close now, his hand moving from yours to gently cup your jaw, his thumb brushing along your cheek in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. His touch was warm, grounding, but you could feel the restraint there, the careful control that kept him from holding you tighter, pulling you closer.

“Woooyoung,” you whispered, trying to keep the tension at bay. “I just… I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t think I’d be… around you when it happened.” Your voice faltered, embarrassment coloring your cheeks.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.” He tilted your chin up, his gaze unrelenting, filled with a determination that made your heart skip a beat. “This is your first heat with me around, isn’t it?” he asked, though it was more a statement than a question. His jaw clenched, a glint of possessiveness flashing in his gaze that made your breath catch.

“Yes…” you managed, the word barely a whisper.

He nodded, a satisfied sound rumbling from him as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours. “I thought so. I could tell something was different tonight.” His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair in a way that was as much comfort as it was claim. “And you think I’d just leave you to handle this on your own?” he asked, his voice laced with a quiet intensity that sent warmth pooling through you.

“No, but…” You tried to hold onto some semblance of control, to keep things from spiraling into uncharted territory. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He let out a low chuckle, a sound so full of warmth and affection that it sent a shiver through you. “Trust me, the only thing that makes me uncomfortable is the idea of you feeling like you have to hide this from me.” His hand found yours again, and he held it tightly, his thumb brushing over your skin in soothing, grounding strokes. “You’re mine. All of you—everything you are, everything you feel. I want to be here with you, for all of it. So don’t try to push me away, especially not now.”

His words left no room for argument, each one infused with a strength that was as reassuring as it was intoxicating. The intensity in his gaze softened slightly as he watched you, his expression warm, protective, and so full of care that you felt your guard slip, the tension easing from your shoulders.

“Alright,” you breathed, giving in to the pull of his words, the comfort of his presence. “I just… I didn’t want this to change things between us.”

Woooyoung let out a quiet sigh, pulling you into his arms, his embrace warm and solid, a barrier against all your worries. “It doesn’t change anything,” he said firmly, his lips brushing your forehead. “If anything, it just means I get to be here for you in a way I haven’t before. I want to be here, *need* to be here.”

You could feel the depth of his emotions, the fierceness of his resolve, and it made something in your chest tighten, warmth spreading through you as you sank into his hold, letting him steady you.

As he held you, his hands gentle yet possessive, you realized that there was nothing to fear, nothing to hide. Woooyoung was here, steadfast and unflinching, a presence as constant as the stars outside the window. And for the first time, you felt truly safe in the knowledge that this was something you didn’t have to face alone.

---

The room felt suddenly warmer, the soft glow from the TV screen casting a low, intimate light over the two of you. Woooyoung’s hands lingered where they held you, one hand cradling your face with a tenderness that sent tingles down your spine, while his other hand traced slow, deliberate circles against the small of your back, his thumb grazing over the thin fabric of your shirt. His gaze, dark and intent, held yours, and you felt your breath catch as his eyes dipped to your lips.

“You don’t have to hold back,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his breath fanning across your face as he leaned closer. His hand slid up to the back of your neck, fingers threading gently through your hair as he tilted your head up, his thumb stroking along your jaw in a way that left you feeling dizzy, each touch grounding you and yet sparking something electric, something that was growing impossible to ignore.

You couldn’t deny the fire that was building inside, the heat that seemed to flare each time he touched you, each time his gaze lingered on you. Your heart raced, your pulse hammering in your ears as you felt yourself leaning into him, drawn to the warmth of his skin, the steady, grounding presence of him against you.

“Woo,” you whispered, though it came out breathier than you intended, your voice thick with the intensity of your own need. You felt yourself slipping, your usual control slipping with it as his fingers trailed down your neck, pausing at the delicate line of your collarbone before slowly moving down your arm, igniting every inch of skin beneath his touch.

Woooyoung’s breath hitched as he drew closer, his face only a whisper away from yours, his gaze flickering over every detail, taking you in like he was memorizing you, savoring the moment. The possessiveness in his expression was unmistakable, mingling with the tenderness in his touch as his thumb brushed over the curve of your cheek, a small, reverent gesture that somehow left you feeling even more breathless.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he murmured, his voice thick, a little rough around the edges, his breath warm against your skin. “But God, I can’t stand the thought of letting you go through this alone. Not when I’m right here, not when I can be here for you.”

His words sent a shiver through you, your heart racing as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the edge of your jaw, soft and barely there, but enough to send warmth pooling in your chest, spreading through you in waves. You felt your own breath hitch, the sensation of his closeness, his warmth and touch, intoxicating in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

He pulled back just slightly, his gaze finding yours, his hand still at the back of your neck as he ran his thumb over your skin, the gesture gentle, grounding. “Tell me to stop if you want me to,” he whispered, though you could see the way his eyes darkened as he watched you, his own control beginning to slip. “But if you don’t… let me be here for you.”

Your voice caught in your throat, the words escaping you as you looked up at him, feeling the full force of his gaze. The restraint, the tension in his muscles as he held himself back, all for you, all for your sake, made something in you ache. But it was his tenderness, the care in his eyes, that undid you.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, the words barely a breath as you met his gaze, your cheeks flushed, heart pounding as you gave in to the pull between you. His eyes softened, a look of relief crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft and gentle at first, but that quickly deepened, his hand tightening at the back of your neck as he pulled you closer.

Your heat flared, the intensity of your need rising with each kiss, each gentle brush of his lips, each time his hands roamed over your skin with a reverence that left you breathless. Woooyoung’s hands moved to your waist, his touch warm, possessive as he pulled you closer, his lips never leaving yours, his breath mingling with yours as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more fervent.

Your own hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling as you pressed yourself closer, losing yourself in the warmth of him, the steady, grounding presence that kept you anchored even as the heat within you burned brighter, hotter with each passing second. Woooyoung’s breath hitched as your hands traced over his shoulders, down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, his pulse quickening in sync with yours.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, his hand still at the small of your back, keeping you close, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles that only served to make your heart race faster.

Woooyoung’s fingers grazed the hem of your shirt, hesitating just a second before he tugged it up, his eyes never leaving yours as he carefully pulled it over your head. The shirt fell away, leaving you feeling suddenly vulnerable under his gaze, his eyes taking in every detail, a mix of admiration and possession reflected in the warmth of his gaze. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, soothing strokes that sent shivers down your spine, grounding you in the tenderness of his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a reverence that made your heart stutter. His hands moved with a deliberate gentleness as he traced along your collarbone, the warmth of his fingers making you melt under his touch, every movement sending waves of warmth through you. His hand drifted lower, coming to rest at your waist, fingers curling around you with a possessiveness that left you breathless.

Your own hands moved to his shirt, the need to feel him, to be closer, urging you forward as you tugged at the fabric, pulling it up and over his shoulders. His skin was warm, the muscles beneath tensing slightly as you traced your fingers over his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart, the way his breath hitched under your touch. He watched you intently, a softness in his gaze as he let you explore, his hands never leaving your skin, holding you close as he soaked in every moment, every reaction.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, his voice gentle, his thumb tracing small, grounding circles against your waist as he watched you with a concern that left you feeling safe, even as the intensity between you continued to build.

“Yes,” you breathed, the word barely audible as you met his gaze, your own cheeks flushed, heart racing as you leaned into him. There was a vulnerability in this closeness, a sense of connection that went beyond words, beyond touch, and as he held you, every ounce of doubt faded, replaced by the warmth of his presence, his tenderness.

Woooyoung’s fingers moved to the waistband of your pants, his gaze flicking back to meet yours, seeking silent permission. When you nodded, he carefully slid them down, his touch gentle and reverent, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, his gaze filled with awe and something deeper, a need that was matched by his control, his dedication to being there for you in every way you needed.

“You’re everything,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he held you, his hands resting at your waist, pulling you close, grounding you in the warmth, the safety of his embrace. The two of you sank back onto the couch, the world outside fading away as you let yourself fall into the warmth of his touch, the steady, grounding presence of him there beside you, as if he was your world, and you his.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—just you, Woooyoung, and the warmth that blossomed between you, a connection that went beyond anything you’d ever felt before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” he murmured, his voice rough, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth, a tenderness that left you breathless.

You felt yourself melt into him, the warmth of his hands, the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips grounding you as he leaned in, capturing your lips once more. His kiss was tender, reverent, filled with a care and devotion that left you feeling weightless, swept up in the warmth and safety of him.

For now, nothing else mattered.

"H-haven't been like this before" your breath hitched, barely above a whisper.

"Neither did I see you like this.. but who am I to complain? How I'd love to fuck you right now until you can't walk tomorrow.." he smiled playfully, eyes wandering all over you.

Your attitude suddenly changes, feeling provoked by his words. "Hah, if you can even compete with my heat, baby".

"Jokes on you... I'm sometimes able to coordinate my heat to other werewolfs... but you weren't aware of that, were you, my love?"

You gulped.

"What do you mean..?" you muffled, barely above a whisper. Did you have any reason to be.. scared? No, he wouldn't hurt you, never. But.. his heats were *intense*.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, his voice a low, rumbling whisper. "It means," he murmured, "that tonight, you're not getting away from me." His fingers trailed along your arm, igniting sparks that made your skin prickle. "You’re right to be nervous... but not for the reasons you think."

Your heart raced, anticipation mingling with a thrill you couldn’t deny. Every inch of you felt hyperaware of his presence, the primal energy simmering just beneath the surface. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you struggle with your composure.

"Tell me to stop," he dared, his gaze locked onto yours, a playful challenge lingering in his eyes. "Or... surrender."

His words hung in the air, a tantalizing choice dangling between the two of you, "you also clearly...need it" he peeked between your legs, arousal already dripping from your panties.

Your pulse thundered in your ears, the gravity of his challenge sinking in. The weight of his gaze held you there, pulling you deeper into the intensity of the moment. You tried to form words, but they tangled on your tongue, every coherent thought slipping through your grasp as his presence consumed your senses.

Your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as you whispered, "I... I don’t want you to stop."

A triumphant glint sparked in his eyes, and he moved closer, his hand reaching up to gently cradle your face. His thumb brushed along your cheek, a delicate touch in stark contrast to the fire blazing behind his gaze. "Then surrender to me completely," he murmured, his voice like velvet, dark and alluring.

With a slight tilt of his head, he pressed his lips to yours, slow and intoxicating. The kiss was a promise, a claim, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You melted against him, feeling the strength and warmth of his hold. The tension between you shifted, giving way to a raw, undeniable pull that neither of you could ignore.

He broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, "Tonight, you’re mine." His words hung in the air, sealing the promise of a night you would never forget.

From the tender, sweet guy he was at first when he first sensed your heat... he became the primal instinct-driven man you'd always see and.. feel, on your own, whenever Wooyoung was in heat.

He suddenly lifted you in his embrace and threw you on the mattress in your shared bedroom. You slightlt got up on your elbows but were soon pushed down by Wooyoung, his right hand holding you eagerly by your throat. He undressed himself and smirked at you. That *damned* smirk... the one that was telling you that you're basically.. done for.

"Let's see if you keep yourself true to your words, baby." and as soon as he finished his words, he leaned in for a kiss. At first it was a slow, deliberate kiss, then it deepened and became more needy, lustful, craved. His tongue interlocking with yours, sloppy and playful sounds could be heard.

You loved that Wooyoung was so.. talkative, and loud whenever he was in a heat. It actually turned you the fuck on.

He took his belt from the pants he threw on the floor a moment ago and tied up your hands thighly, right above your head to the headboard. He then spread out your legs forcefully, your body arching against the linen. He ripped off your soaked panties and threw them somewhere. He got rid of his briefs, too, his huge girthy and lengthy cock springing out angrily, waiting for any kind of action. He then slightly positioned himself closer to you, one hand going between your legs, one on his cock.

"Nhh-, please.." you mumbled.

"*Please* what, darling? I can't quite.." he pushed 2 of his fingers right inde your cunt, receiving a soft moan from you, "hear you" he pushed another one, making it 3 fingers. Your back arched against his touch as he started finger-fucking your rapidly, the hand on his cock moving, too. As he started stroking his length, you tried moving up and down on his fingers, trying to get to feel him way more and deeper.

"Try to stay quiet if you can.. I dare you"

"Huh? I- Wooyoung-ah!" you moaned his name loudly as he positioned himself to your cunt and fully thrusted in, no warning before he started fucking you rapidly and roughly. ""I want to see how far I can push you.. see where your limits really are."

As Woooyoung was senselessly ramming into you, his hands roamed in your body, his lips too. They went from your thighs which he kissed and, at first, softly bite, to your belly where he harshly sucked your skin and left marks all over, then to your collarbones and breasts where his lips found their way to your now-hardener nipples. He suck them off for a long minute at the same time he was fucking you, sending shivers through your whole body.

"I love the way you react to me. All those little shivers... I could do this all night" he cockily said, thrusting even more rapidly, breath hitching in his throat as he leaned in for a soft kiss. As he pulled back and saliva dripped from your lips, he looked down at his cock going in and out of you rapidly. He saw your face flushed, not being able to look in his eyes. "Keep your eyes on me. Don’t you dare look away—I want to see every second you lose control."

He flipped you over. Yes, his cock was still inches deep inside you, but he flipped you over and one hand went over to the nape of your neck, pushing your face in the mattress. His left hand, the free one, went to your ass and squeezed it once, then he slappped you hard, leaving a rosy mark on your fair skin. You whined at the rough touch, sound barely above a whisper, face buried in the linen. The same hand from your ass went to rest on the curve of your back, softly pushing himself in way better. He started rapidly fucking you again, but this time with a twist. You could feel him in all your sweets spots, back arching and legs already starting to tremble as you felt your high coming closer and closer.

"Wooyoung, ngh-I'm cl-close...!" you shouted, barely being able to form coherent words. As soon as he understood what you meant, you could basically feel the smirk he gave you a second before his hand travelled between your legs from over your legs and waist, aiming for your cunt. His dick inches in you and ppunding into you, 2 of his fingers circled your swollen clit. You quietly moaned at his touch. As soon as he combined those two motions, ramming and circling your clit, you came down from your high beautifully, creaming on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm and he for sure didn't plan on stopping.

"I know exactly where to touch you, where to push you… look at you coming undone just like I knew you would. Good girl, princess." Woo confidently and cockily said, drops of sweat falling off his head on your chest. "Let's try one.. more. Shall we? I’m going to make sure you feel me in every breath you take."

"Wooyoung wait-!"

"What." he said, confused.

"Slow d-down !" you whispered.

""I'm not stopping until I have you exactly how I want you" he flipped you over on your back again and lifted you up. He pushed you to the uncluttered wall in the room, the headboard behind you slightly breaking when he forced the belt off. Your hands fell to his shoulders, holding onto him thightly. He held you by your ass and pulled you close, making you jump on his cock.

"I love fucking you against a wall so damn much.. and I'm so sad your heat is irregular.. really fucks up my mood. But now? I will make sure you won't be able to walk tomorrow, as I said." and he started kissing your collarbone. He bit you again, this time leaving teeth marks all over.

"You feel so good.. sweetie. I'm so close-" his breath caught up in his throat as he released his load in your cunt, pounding it all up in you. He took his sweet time until he felt satisfied with the amount of thrusts he did and pushed you over the edge, legs trembling around him and hands barely holding onto him. You came down from your high the 2nd time for the night.. and it was not about to be even close to the last one.

"See? This is what you joined in for. How do you feel about it, sweetie?"

"Please just... don't ever stop" you muffled, with teary eyes and a smirk on your face.

He leaned in close, a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze flickering with that unmistakable spark. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, "we’re nowhere near done. I warned you, didn’t I? Once you’re in, there’s no stopping. And tonight? We’re just getting started."

He tilted his head, brushing his thumb over your cheek, taking in the way your breath hitched at his touch. "Think you can keep up with me?" he asked, letting a confident chuckle slip through as he traced his fingertips along your skin. His expression softened for a moment, but that mischievous glint in his eyes stayed strong, hinting at the intensity yet to come.

NETWORKS:

@illusionnet

@blossomnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium

[2baabbies]

🖤 Snap Out of It (Felix x Reader) 🖤

Crossposted under 2Babbies on Ao3 <3

Words: 6500

Summary: You are trying to give your ex-boyfriend a second chance after breaking up with him, but you find yourself questioning the decision when he continuously texts you during your night out with Seungmin. Luckily, Felix appears and helps you work through your emotions. He even gives you the perfect ultimatum: go home with your ex, or go home with him (inspired by the Arctic Monkeys song).

Humour + Smut + Fluff

afab + fem!reader

CWs: shitty boyfriend that is implied to be emotionally manipulative, breaking up with said boyfriend, judgemental bff seungmin (but he cares you I promise), drinking/alcohol consumption (reader barely drinks, felix is sober)

Smut Tags: safe sex/use of condom, teasing, playful sex, love confessions before/during sex, praise kink, vaginal fingering, doggystyle

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

Seungmin’s eyes flick judgmentally between you and your phone as another text lights up the screen. You avert your gaze and pretend not to notice as you sip your water.

“Didn’t you answer him?”

“Hm?”

Seungmin clears his throat.

“Your boyfriend? You answered him already, right?”

You slide your phone away as your friend attempts to decipher the messages from across the table.

“Yeah, he’s just worried.”

“Possessive is more like it.”

“He’s working on it.”

“Is he?”

You glare softly and open the texts. Multiple variations of ‘where are you’ and ‘I miss you’ grace your vision. You send a quick reply about how you are safe and having fun with your friend then place your phone, face-down, on the table. Seungmin stares at it and peers suspiciously as it buzzes on.

“He just worries about me. He’s anxious and wants me to get home safe.”

“He’s jealous. He can’t handle that you’re out with me.”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

He cocks his head.

“Really? Are you sure about that? Is this how he is everytime you leave the house?”

“No, it’s just late and we’re at a bar so there could be drunk drivers or something when we leave.”

“But you’re sober, and I’ve had one drink, so that should ease his mind a little bit. His problem is me.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“He doesn’t even know I’m with you so it’s definitely not that.”

“What?”

You stare at each other in silence before you take a long sip of your drink.

“Hm?”

“You didn’t tell him you’re with me? Why?”

You shrug.

“No reason.”

“You can’t tell him you’re alone with a guy, right?”

“No-”

“y/n, that is a huge red flag! Why are you back with this guy?”

Words fail you but you still scramble for an answer. 

“He’s trying- we want to make it work. He’s not a bad guy, we’re fixing our issues, he just gets a little emotional but we’re going to make it- I’m going to help him do better. We’re going to be better, for each other.”

Seungmin stares at you with a stressed expression.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask softly.

“Not mad.”

“Don’t say it.”

“Just dis- oh, hey Felix. Did you dye your hair?”

Your head snaps up as Felix steps up to the table. His eyes crinkle as he shoots you a smile. Your heart skips as you take him in. His usual bleached locks are dyed a striking blue and tied into a messy ponytail.

“I did, Seungmin. Thanks for noticing.”

You find yourself frozen. Was there something else different about him? You had always found Felix attractive but something had changed. You find yourself unable to look away as he rests one hand on the back of your chair and leans casually at your side.

“Um, blue? It’s hard to miss. When did you get back?” Seungmin asks.

“Just this morning.”

“How was Australia?”

“Oh, it was stunning. I spent every day on the water. It’s just gorgeous there in the summer, you know?”

The glow of Felix’s skin is nearly golden, his complexion is significantly tanner than when he left a month ago. Each freckle on his face looks more pronounced and draws your attention like scattered stars in the sky. Seungmin rises from his seat and toasts to the Aussie, finally snapping you out of your trance.

“Well, I’m glad to have you back. Now pardon me: I think I see Chan and, uh, I’m honestly not drunk enough for the lecture that needs to happen right now. So you have fun dealing with her.”

“Seungmin,” You plead.

He waves and chugs his drink as he makes his escape. Felix slowly turns to you with a pleasant smile as you sigh in frustration. He gestures to the empty chair.

“May I?”

“Go ahead.”

He takes his seat and brightens your miserable state as he rests his chin in his hands and watches you happily.

“So…”

“You had a good time in Australia?”

“Yeah, thanks for asking. What about you? What have you been up to?”

“Um, you know, the usual…”

“Oh yeah?”

“Um, I broke up with my boyfriend. Then got… back together with my boyfriend.”

Felix’s brow furrows gently.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I am. But we’re still working things out.”

“Right.”

You check your phone and purse your lips as you read the last message from your boyfriend: I’m coming to pick you up, send me your location and wrap it up for the night . You sigh and drop your phone on the table. When you look up Felix is watching you with the softest frown.

“Is that him?”

“Yeah.”

“You look upset.”

You clear your throat.

“I’m not. He’s just… a little stressed out.”

“Is he bothering you?”

“No, no.”

“y/n,” He says firmly, “Be honest, please. I’m not going to be upset with you.”

“He, uh, he wants me to come home.”

He nods.

“Do you want to go home?”

“Not really.”

You sit in silence for a moment. You tap absentmindedly at the condensation on your glass, drawing little shapes with your finger. He continues to watch you, his arms folded now on the table as he studies you with a sympathetic smile. You look up slowly when he speaks again.

“It’s not my place to make assumptions about your boyfriend, but I do know that when I was away everyone was very relieved when you two broke up. I think they saw that you were a lot happier without him. So I don’t care about the semantics of whether or not he’s a good guy or why no one likes him: are you happier being with him than you are without him?”

“I’m happy with him.”

“But could you be happy without him?”

“I want to be with him.”

“I’m not saying you don’t. But are you happy?”

You check your phone again. The volume of messages overwhelms you, so you drop it again.

“He’s tiring. I know it all comes from a good place but I wish he would just respect my space.”

Felix nods gently.

“Of course. Sometimes when people care a lot they don’t know how to respect boundaries. It’s really important that you can set boundaries with him, though. If he cares about you it shouldn’t feel like he’s controlling you.”

“I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to say it so it won’t upset him.”

Felix extends his hand and you hesitantly hand him your phone. He reaches his other hand out and takes yours gently as your fingers drum on the table. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as he types out a message, then he places your phone on the table and slides it back to you.

“How does this sound?”

“I don’t think he’ll like that.”

You feel your chest stir as you look up at Felix’s warm gaze.

“I think he needs to hear it.”

You read the message Felix typed again: I’m still out with friends and I’m not ready to go home yet. If you still want to, you can pick me up later when I call you. I would really appreciate it then. 

“What if he gets mad?”

Felix’s thumb rubs a comforting circle in the back of your hand.

“He won’t. He shouldn’t. You’re allowed to decline his offer, and you shouldn’t do what he wants just to avoid a fight.”

Your finger hovers over the send button.

“What if he won’t pick me up?”

“Then I’ll drive you home.”

Your fingers clench into a fist as you draw your hand back from the phone. Felix watches the action then watches your expression.

“He really wouldn’t like that.”

“Right. Well, you can send the message if you want and we’ll go from there.”

“I don’t know, maybe I should just go home, Lix.”

Your stomach drops as another message comes in. The only relief is the unconditional patience in the smile Felix gives you.

“Why don’t I give you another option?”

“What’s that?”

“Send the message and put your phone away. Then, at the end of the night when you’re ready, you can either go home with your boyfriend or you can go home with me.”

“With you?”

He nods.

“But only if you send that message.”

You look back at your phone.

“Would you really let me spend the night with you?”

“Darling, of course. You don’t even have to question it. I want you to enjoy the rest of your night. Don’t let him control what you want.”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s your decision. I’m here to support you either way.”

You send the message, quick to rip off the metaphorical bandaid, then turn your phone over. Your eyes must be anxious, because Felix reaches across the table to take your other hand.

“y/n, I am so proud of you.”

“I don’t know. That didn’t feel good.”

“Take a deep breath,” You do as he says, “You did the right thing. Now, promise me you won’t look at your phone again until you want to leave?”

“I promise.”

“Yeah?”

You nod and free one of your hands to turn off your phone. He watches then gives you a congratulatory pat on your clasped hands.

“See? I knew you could do it. Good girl.”

You laugh softly and duck your head as your cheeks heat up. He gives you another pat then rises from his seat. He extends his hand and you rise as well as you take it.

“Come on, let’s go find Seungmin.”

Seungmin is at the bar with Chan and Hyunjin when you find him. The latter beams when he notices you and Felix.

“Hey Felix! Hey y/n!”

Chan looks over his shoulder and grins. Felix separates from you to give his friends a hug. Seungmin rolls his eyes and passes them to whisper to you.

“So, you look happier.”

“Um, yeah. Felix is going to drive me home, and I turned my phone off so I can have a good time.”

“Good, you should’ve done that at the beginning of the night.”

You roll your eyes.

“Aren’t you just full of great advice?”

“Are you coming to dance with me or not?” Seungmin complains as he wanders away.

“Just wait a second.”

You catch Felix’s eye as you turn towards him and he steps away from Chan and Hyunjin to whisper to you. His hand gently grasps your elbow as he hovers over you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to dance with Seungmin.”

He smiles, dazzling you for a moment, then replies. “Alright, have fun. I’ll be around. Let me know when you wanna head out, yeah?”

You nod and reluctantly part from him. He winks over his shoulder before taking his place beside his friends and you turn away to find Seungmin. 

You surprise Seungmin by poking his back when you find him again. He curses softly and turns to you, glaring as you mischievously giggle. You squeal when he pulls you along with him. You let him drag you around the dancefloor, into one of the lounges, then finally to the bar counter. You hang off his arm as he decides what to drink next from the bar menu, offering your opinions thoughtfully as he lists off drink names.

“Don’t order that. You’re going to be falling on your ass in less than an hour.”

He grins.

“Chan offered to drive me home.”

“He’s going to revoke his offer.”

“You know he wouldn’t do that. I can get as drunk as I want, he’s going to take care of me all night.”

“You’re insufferable,” You chide.

He waves you off then shows you the menu again.

“What are you getting?” “I’m not getting anything.”

“Why?”

“I’m not drinking tonight. I promised I wouldn’t.”

Seungmin’s face drops and he gives you a stony glare.

“y/n.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop letting your shitty boyfriend control your life.”

“He’s not controlling my life…”

“He is. You’re literally a whole different person when you’re with him. It makes you lame.”

“I’m not being lame. Hey, I’m ignoring him now aren’t I?”

He shrugs.

“You shouldn’t have to ignore him. He should just let you live and be happy if you give him an ounce of your attention. That’s how men should be.”

“No man is like that.”

“Ken is like that.” “Ken? From Barbie? Ken is not real, Seungmin. And real guys don’t sit around waiting for validation from their Barbie. At least they don’t for me.”

“There’s one that would, if you gave him a fair chance.”

“You?”

“Ew. No. Gross.”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

He tries to focus on choosing his drink again when he notices you staring expectantly at him. He rolls his eyes and thumbs over his shoulder without looking.

“Pretty boy. Six o’clock. Has an accent and blue hair.”

You follow the invisible arrow across the room to Felix, who is sitting with Chan and Hyunjin in one of the lounges.

“Felix? No way.”

“You’re so dumb.”

“Wha- hey!”

“Or maybe just blind… Hey, pardon me, I’ll take one of those please. Thank you,” Seungmin says to the bartender as they pass an order to the person beside you. He pays then he turns to you, “You think Felix wants to be here? The only reason he’s staying here is because of you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“y/n, he just got back from fucking Australia and where was the first place he went? A bar. Why? Because you’re here. He does not want to be here right now, he wants to be at home sleeping.”

“Okay, he doesn’t have to stay. I’ll tell him to go home if he’s waiting up for me.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“What do you mean?”

Seungmin repeats his thought, slowly.

“Felix. Is here. For. You. He came. To see. You.”

“Why… would he do that?”

“Because he’s your fucking Ken. He just went through a month of withdrawals being on a whole separate continent than you. He’s here for your attention.”

“Felix… doesn’t like me like that,” Seungmin glares, “Does he?”

“He’s too much of a gentleman to say something when you’re already seeing someone. You went ahead and got a stupid fucking boyfriend and he’s too good of a guy to tell you to get rid of him. Why do you think we have been trying to get you to dump that dick again.”

“You guys wanted me to dump my boyfriend…”

“So you would be single again by the time Felix got back. Then he would actually make a move on you. But you’re a dumbass so here we are.”

“Felix likes me…”

“A lot. God, I wish you’d snap out of it and lose the douchebag so you could have some fun for once. Felix never shuts up about you, I’m sure being away was just torture for him.”

“I guess I didn’t notice. I was trying so hard to force things into working with my ex, I didn’t imagine that anyone else could want me.”

Seungmin groans in agony. “I’m still not drunk enough for this conversation! Oh, thank you.”

He accepts his drink as the bartender slides it across the counter. You watch Felix from across the room, laughing at some joke Chan just made. Hyunjin’s follow-up comment has him doubling over in laughter. When he rises again his eyes find yours and he grins, unmistakably keeping his eyes on you. You are grinning back before you realize it and quickly turn away as your cheeks flush hotly.

“Felix likes me.”

Seungmin nods as he downs his drink.

“But I need to be single.”

“Bingo.”

“Can you help me break up with my boyfriend?”

Seungmin slowly turns to you with a glint in his eye and cracks his knuckles.

“I’m so glad you decided to come around. Give me your phone.”

You and Seungmin celebrate your new- hopefully brief- status as a single woman by sharing a drink and spending the next half hour dancing around the bar. As you suspected, Seungmin cannot hold his liquor and quickly becomes Chan’s responsibility. He swoops in to sling Seungmin’s arm over his shoulder and keep him on his feet as you say your goodbyes. Seungmin clings to the older like a baby koala and hides his face in his neck as you talk.

“Do you need a drive home? I’m sober.” Chan offers.

“Uh, no, Felix is going to drive me.”

Chan smiles.

“Oh good. I think Hyunjin is getting a lift with me. I’m going to take Seungmin out now; do you think you could tell him to meet us outside?”

“Yeah, of course. Seungmin! Have a good night, baby.”

Seungmin glares at your teasing tone and groans as he follows Chan away. You wave them off then turn your attention to finding Felix and Hyunjin. This task is easy, since Felix has not moved from the lounge. Hyunjin is draped over him, and both look ready for bed. You walk up to them and Felix perks up a bit.

“Hey again,” He greets.

Hyunjin looks at you and sits up to stretch.

“Hey. Jinnie, Chan took Seungmin outside. They’re waiting for you.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

He finishes his stretch then throws his arms around Felix, who squawks in surprise. You giggle as Hyunjin gives him a lingering squeeze then stands up. You accept his hug when he approaches and cackle at the teasing poke he gives you. He pulls back but surprises you when he keeps you locked in his arms and whispers in your ear.

“Seungmin texted me. I’m proud of you. Now, go get your man.”

He pulls back and smiles at your baffled expression, then pats your cheek before walking away. Felix stands and raises his eyebrow as he takes in your surprise.

“What did he say?”

“Um, nothing, I think he just drank too much.”

“Yeah. Hopefully he finds Chan okay.”

You nod in agreement then stare foolishly as Felix extends his hand to you. You quickly slap your palm into his and let him link your fingers as he laughs and leads you out of the bar. When you step out into the winter night you shiver. Felix unlinks your hands for a second to shrug his jacket off and throw it over your shoulders, then he slings his arm around you and pulls you close to him. You rest one hand on his chest to stop him as he goes to continue.

“W-Wait, Lix you’re going to get cold.”

“I’m good. It’s really hot in Australia right now so I got all charged up under the sun there. I don’t even feel the cold now.”

You laugh and usher him to speed up as you head to his car.

“I don’t think it works like that. You can’t hold a charge.”

His endearing smile drops into a contemplative pout as he hums and considers your logic.

“I guess… it must be your radiant smile keeping me warm now?”

You roll your eyes and laugh at his lame joke, but feel the heat rise in your cheeks despite the absurdity. He follows you to the passenger side of his car and holds the door open for you, then gently shuts it behind you. He lightly jogs around to the driver’s seat, making you giggle as he rushes to slam the door behind him.

“You are cold!”

“Sh-Shush!”

You take his jacket off and wrestle him to put it back on. You rub his arms to help warm him up and shake your head as his teeth chatter. He digs his keys out of the pocket and turns the car over, then cranks the heat up. You laugh as he melts into his seat with a cozy smile.

“Mhm…”

“Better?”

“Much. Now take this back.”

You make an exasperated noise as he removes his jacket and throws it unceremoniously over you. You rearrange it like a blanket, then freeze as he leans over you. Your breathing stops as the space between your lips begins to close, then resumes as he draws back. You realize he was just securing your seatbelt for you and had leaned over to find it in the dim light. You hear the soft click then feel his hands gently tighten the belt over your lap. He tucks his jacket in around you then smiles at you.

“There. All good?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good. You’re precious cargo.”

Feix winks and drops back into his seat to secure his own belt. He goes to put the car in drive, but hesitates as he looks at you.

“Oh yeah, where are we going?”

“Uh, your place. If that’s still okay?”

“Of course. I’m not going to take back my offer on you.”

Your hand flies to his arm, making him stop to look at you. His brow furrows as you squeeze gently.

“W-Wait. There’s something I want to tell you first.”

“What is it?”

“I broke my promise. I turned my phone on and I looked at my texts.”

His eyebrow pinches with a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, love, that’s alright. You didn’t have to tell me. I just wanted you to enjoy your night.”

“I did. I really did. But I did text my boyfriend back. Um, Seungmin helped me but could you read the message over? Make sure I said the right thing?”

He smiles kindly.

“I’m sure what you said was perfect. But I can read it over for you.”

“Thanks.”

Your hand trembles as you pull your phone out and open the messages. You hope Felix chocks your shakiness up to the lingering cold in the car as you pass your phone to him. He gives you another reassuring smile as he reads the message you composed. His brightness drops as he reads it over, then he reads it a second time and looks at you with a shocked expression.

“You broke up? Are you okay?”

You nod.

“Yeah.”

“But I thought you two were trying to work things out? What happened?”

You take a shuddery breath as anxiety coils in your chest.

“I don’t think we can work things out. I just don’t think we’re a good match for each other.”

He nods in understanding and brings his hand up to gently hold yours.

“And you’re happier this way?”

“Much happier. I think everyone was right that I was better off without him, and I agree. I didn’t really want to get back together with him, but I felt like he deserved one last chance.”

“You tried your best to make it work. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Are you proud of me?”

His smile is achingly sweet as he gazes softly at you.

“So proud of you, darling. So proud.”

Your heart skips at the purr in his voice as he praises you. He removes his hand from yours to finally put the car in drive and start the ride back to his apartment. You settle into your seat and let your eyes shut.

Felix startles you awake when he unbuckles your seatbelt. You did not intend to fall asleep and can only manage an incoherent question as he fixes his jacket around you and scoops you into his arms. You mumble softly as he carries you through his apartment door, which is already slightly ajar, and nuzzle your cheek against the thick plush fabric now covering his arms. You lean back to inspect the coat he must have thrown on when he unlocked the door then watch his expression intently as he sets you on his couch.

“You didn’t have to carry me…”

“I didn’t want to wake you, sleeping beauty. I’ll be right back.”

He throws a blanket over your lap then leaves the apartment. You shrug off his jacket, now too cold compared to the warmth of the apartment, and bundle yourself in a cocoon with the blanket before standing up. You only manage to shuffle a few steps when he returns.

“How are you feeling?”

You let out a long yawn then return his fond smile.

“Good. A little sleepy.”

“Come here. Uh, sorry about the mess.”

Felix opens the door to his bedroom and kicks some clothes under the bed. You giggle as he moves his half-unpacked suitcase away to make a clear path to his dresser, then hastily tidies his bed.

“Lix, it’s okay. I know you live here.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

You laugh at his dramatic pout, which quickly melts into a playful grin.

“Nothing.”

“Right. I’m going to take a shower, let me get you some jammies to change into.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, what, and let you get into my bed with your bar clothes on? Right.”

Your cheeks heat up at the casual suggestion as he begins digging through his dresser.

“I can sleep on the couch.”

“You could. But my couch is the worst. You know that. And you still need pajamas.”

“Where are you going to sleep? Don’t say the couch.”

“I’m the host and as the host you have to listen to me. You get the bed and I get the couch. End of story.”

He places the pajamas on the bed and looks at you. He props his hands on his hips and tilts his head as you cross your arms.

“What, darling?”

“You won’t get a good night’s sleep.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You just got home, don’t you want to sleep in your own bed?”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“We should both just sleep in your bed.”

“Both of us?”

You pick the pajamas up from the bed and turn to see his astonished expression.

“Oh. We don’t have to if it’ll make you uncomfortable?”

“No! N-No, um, it’s fine. No worries. Sounds good.”

Felix darts out of the room, slamming the door behind him. You wait in silence until you hear the shower begin to run, then sigh to yourself in the silence. You quickly shuck off your clothes and don the pajamas Felix picked for you. You crawl into his bed and tuck yourself under the covers, then play absentmindedly on your phone until he returns. He peeks his head in the door first and waits in silence for you to notice him.

“What’s up, Lix?”

“Um, I forgot my clothes.”

“So?”

“I just have a towel on.”

Your heart thumps.

“That’s okay. You can come in.”

“Ah, alright. As long as it’s okay with you.”

He enters the room casually with your assurance. You swallow and avert your eyes until he passes, then allow your gaze to return. You admire the defined muscles of his back and the freckles that scatter over his bare skin. His hair is damp, blue locks clinging to the base of his neck. You jump when he turns to look at you with a smile that creeps wider as your eyes meet.

“You can have a shower too, if you want?”

“No thanks, I’m already comfortable.”

“Yeah? You look a little nervous.”

You laugh as he turns away. You squirm in your spot as you watch him slowly search through his drawers. You clear your throat gently and he turns to you again.

“Felix?”

“Yes?”

 “Can you come here?”

“R-Right now?”

“I’ll be quick.”

A shudder ripples through you as he slowly makes his way over to the bed and tentatively sits beside you. He tilts his head and watches you with endearingly soft eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Mhm, go ahead.”

“You’ve been really nice to me tonight. Like, especially nice. Is there a reason for that?”

He blinks then grins as he replies, “I just like you, silly.”

“Like me in what way?”

He chuckles.

“Ah, well,” He bites his lip then pokes his tongue through his teeth, “They’re not very good at keeping secrets, are they?”

You giggle as he leans closer and lounges on his side. He rests his chin in his hand and smiles up at you. You follow his lead and lay down next to him, trying to conceal your excited smile in the pillow beneath you. He reaches out to brush his thumb over your cheek and gently turns you to face him.

“Why are you being shy now, darling?”

“I don’t know. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t? Oh, I should probably do that then.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Felix,” You whine.

He chuckles and curls one hand around your waist to pull you closer. You follow obediently and stare expectantly at him.

“Is this okay? It isn’t too much, right?”

“Mhm, a gentle brush of the waist. How will I ever recover?”

“Aha, come on, darling. I know what I do to you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You fib.

He winks and inches closer.

“Sure.”

Your hand trembles as you place it on his stomach, and you cower at his knowing smirk.

“Be nice.”

“I’m especially nice. You said it yourself.”

“I take it back.”

“Ha. Well, seriously though. Are you alright? Do you want to slow down?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess I imagined it would be a bit different than this. And I wouldn’t make a move on you the same night you left your boyfriend.”

You shrug.

“It’s been over for a while with him. You don’t need to hold back, Lix. I want to be here with you.”

“Half-naked?”

“Well, that’s just you.”

He snorts but his cheeks still brighten with embarrassment. 

“So, how did you imagine it?”

“Hm?”

You roll your eyes as Felix tries to feign innocence.

“You know. How did you imagine you would confess? I heard you missed me, you must have thought about it.”

He laughs dryly.

“Seungmin told you that?”

“Oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“Oh, darling,” Felix breathes, “I couldn’t even begin…”

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans in. His shaky breath sweeps over your lips and your lip twitches when he hesitates.

“Would you like me to kiss you?” He asks.

“What do you think?”

Your eyes open only to catch a glimpse of his cheeky grin, then fall shut again as he closes the distance between you. You trade a few kisses, deep and needy, before he pulls away.

“You know I really like you, right?”

“I know. I like you too, Lixie.”

He steals another quick kiss then murmurs, “You do?”

“Mh-hm. So much.”

“Oh, good.”

You giggle and slide your hand over his back as he straddles your waist. Your thumb glides over his spine, then along the waistband of his towel. You blink up in adoration as he rests his forehead against yours.

“This isn’t all I want from you. Kisses and… what I mean is that I want you. But not just your body, I want to take care of you. Fuck, it’s way too soon to say this but I know I mean it.”

“Say what?”

“I love you.”

You stare in surprise as he traps you in his intimate gaze. He seems to come back to reality as the silence carries on.

“Y-You don’t have to say it back. I know it’s fast.”

“Lix… Do you mean it?”

“What? Of course. Yes, of course I do.”

“Then can you say it again?”

He laughs softly.

“I love you, y/n. It’s okay if you’re not ready for something serious but I-”

“I love you.”

“I know I want to be the one that cares for you. I want to spend forever with you, even if you don’t think that’s what you want it’s okay. I-”

“Felix. I love you.”

“I- I love you too,” He heaves.

You kiss the top of his head fondly as he buries his heated face in your chest.

“Mhm. Happy?”

“Yes.”

“I can tell.”

His hips jump as you feel him hardening beneath the towel.

“Don’t tease me.”

You giggle.

“You’re getting turned on by me saying ‘I love you’. It’s adorable.”

He makes a strangled sound as you buck your hips up against his.

“Y-You’re unfair. If you knew how much I…”

“What? Want me?”

“Mhh-hhmn… Need you.”

He hums praise as you deliver a viciously slow swirl of your hips. He groans and settles into your lap while giving a tentative rock, and moans softly into your neck.

“So cute, Lix.”

“Ah… y/n, you have no idea how happy I am.”

His voice rumbles in your chest as your hips press together tightly.

“You could tell me? Or show me?”

“Hah… I’ve been waiting so long to tell you…”

He pushes himself up to brace himself over you, lips failing to make sound when your eyes fall on him. You smile and pull him down for a kiss, which he trails down to your neck. A moan escapes your lips as he nips his way to your ear and lingers there.

“I’m so proud of you. I knew he wasn’t good for you.”

“Hmn…”

“I wanted you to leave him so badly, and when you got back together I thought I missed my chance.”

“Felix…”

He pecks your cheek then continues.

“You deserve so much better than him, you know? You deserve everything.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

The next kiss leaves you breathless and writhing beneath him. His hands slip under your borrowed shirt and you pull it off at the first opportunity. He whimpers into your mouth between soft gasps and pants, his erection still nestled firmly between your shifting bodies. He dips his fingers beneath your pants and swallows the moan he draws out when his fingers slip past your panties. He teases your folds for a moment before breaching your sex.

“Fe-lix,” You cry when he circles your warmth.

“Ha… That good?”

“Ah-huh,” You babble dumbly, clinging to him as he strokes deeper.

He moves in, mouthing at your neck and wrapping his arm around you to hold you closer. Your hands find purchase over his back and shoulder blades. He brushes his lips over your ear and chuckles softly.

“Good girl. You like that, huh? You like being my good girl?”

“Mh-hmn!”

“Oh, I knew you would. I knew you’d come around to me, baby.”

You sob softly and arch your back as he teases a sensitive spot.

“F-Felix, please!”

“You don’t have to beg. I’ll get you there, baby.”

“Fuck, h-hahah you’re a tease…”

He hums.

“I disagree. A tease would do something like this.”

He pulls his hand from your pants and smirks as you cry out in frustration.

“Lix!”

You throw your head back and whimper as he kisses your taut throat. He begins sliding your bottoms off and you quickly follow his lead, kicking them off as he moves above you and removes his towel. You eye him up and giggle giddily as he presses his hips flush to yours. Your noses bump when you move in to kiss each other and you both laugh out. You forgive his teasing only long enough for you to suck a hickey into his neck as he blindly scrounges a condom from the bedside drawer. Once he has slipped it on and begins guiding your legs over his hips, you let out a pathetic whine.

“Don’t cry, baby,” He growls, his sultry voice conflicting with the light circles he rubs into your hips, “Be a little patient, yeah? We have all night.”

“Mhm…But I thought you needed me?”

He seems surprised but grins at your comment.

“Oh, darling, I do. But let’s take it slow the first time.”

“That would be so romantic if I wasn’t totally losing it right now.”

Your thighs tremble as Felix ruts his cock between your folds. You moan loudly and hook your arms around his shoulders to draw him closer.

“You’re so lovely, darling. How did I ever get so lucky?”

“Mhm… You could be getting lucky right now.”

“Alright, alright.”

He chuckles and pecks your jaw as he finally eases into you. You gasp and lock your legs behind his back as he starts a lazy rhythm. You turn your head and let your eyes flutter shut as he presses a kiss to your forehead and thrusts himself deeper. You mumble his name dazedly then smirk at the moans and grunts that spill from his lips. One of your hands slides up into his hair as he cups the back of your neck sweetly.

“B-Baby?”

You make a noise of affirmation as another giggling moan bubbles up from your chest. The tension in your abdomen swirls and tightens as you listen to his soft sounds. He laughs breathlessly and plants messy kisses along your jawline, drawing another pleased noise from you.

“That good?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah, roll over for me, beautiful?”

You stifle your complaint when he pulls away then guides you to flip onto your hands and knees. One of his hands slides around your hip and between your legs to toy with your clit. The other finds purchase on the pillow beside your head, as you melt from his touch and bury your face there. He turns your head and lovingly brushes stray hairs from your face before curling his body over yours. He links your hands as he enters you again with a swift push of his hips.

The room fills with the sound of timed thrusts and erratic moans. Felix’s hand between your legs helps keep your back raised while you let your torso sink into the bed. You place one of your hands on the headboard to push against him as his pace intensifies. Your legs quiver as your climax approaches, and he pulls you from your cock-drunk state by wetly kissing your ear.

“Still good? Should I, ngh, slow down?”

“Don’t, hah, stop.”

“Close?”

“S-So close.”

He kisses you, although his heavy moans prevent you from keeping your lips locked for more than a few seconds. It dissolves into a sloppy brush of his lips on your chin and you both giggle again as you come more undone for each other.

“Felix,” You chant softly, “O-Oh my God.”

“That’s right. That’s my girl.”

Your hold on his hand tightens moments before your climax washes over you. Your knees buckle and you sob from the stimulation on your clit as his movements become more desperate. You bury your face in the pillow with a pitiful nuzzle and splay your palm against the headboard.

“Y-You okay?”

You give him a thumbs up and hear him wheeze as you whine shamelessly. The overstimulation is intense but you love it all the same.

“Oh, fuck, Felix,” You groan as he buries himself to the hilt and stills behind you.

His only response is a pitchy sound that dissolves into a groan as your throbbing heat brings him to his climax. You drowsily turn your head to kiss the back of his hand as he noses at your shoulder. He manages to kiss the back of your neck before pulling out and collapsing beside you. He laughs softly as you catch your breaths.

“I love you, Felix.”

He grins and pulls you into his arms to nuzzle his nose against yours.

“I love you more.”

“Mhm… Thank you for waiting so long for me.”

He sighs dreamily.

“I’m just happy to be with you now, love.”

[rhey-007]

Viva Las Vegas!

Fernando Alonso x driver!reader

Summary: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... But not this time.

Warnings/Tags: female reader, mentions of hate comments, mentions of racist comments (literally just a mention nothing specific), fluff... I guess that's it : P

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED SOMETHING JXVSHHEHRHBRBT I'm so happy haha

So this fic is based on this ↓ request. I hope I lived up to your expectations TwT I honestly think it's a cute little fic and I love the inserts :3

Wordcount: 2925

*:..｡o○✨○o｡..:*

You sighed in relief finally leaving the F1 studio after you finished filming Grill the Grid for Las Vegas. You loved doing those, it was a lot of fun but the filming was always the last part of your job for some days and after so many activities before, you were sometimes too tired to think of any answers.

Unfortunately for you, Lando and Carlos approached you the second you left the building, huge smiles plastered on their faces.

“Hi Y/N! How was filming? “

The younger one asked enthusiastically at which you just shook your head.

“What do you need? Cause I’m sure you do need something... “

“Well... We're going to a party to start off this amazing weekend and we were thinking that you might want to join us”

The Spaniard explain making you sigh. They could see you were tired but you never said no to them so they tried their best to convince you.

You could use some party and alcohol after the previous weekend when you crashed your car on almost the very beginning of the race, causing you to be upset and quite nervous ever since.

“Lewis will be there too. Literally everyone will be there! Even Fernando! “

Ah yes... The Fernando card. The forbidden card the boys knew would get you worked up to whatever they wanted.

“Fine... But you have to pick me up! “

You huffed agreeing reluctantly then walked away to get ready. You were going to some club so you decided to put on a thigh length, sparkly lavender dress, some black heels and golden jewelry with some soft makeup.

Lando and Carlos whistled at you as you approached their car and immediately said after you got in.

“Ooooh Fernando’s gonna loooove that~”

Rolling your eyes at their comment you kicked Carlos’ seat so he would finally drive away.

The party was full of Formula workers and drivers, the boys were right, everyone was there. It was hosted in one of Vegas' clubs, one you had no idea about but were glad you decided to join and discovered that magical place.

Carlos and Lando left you just after you walked in so you sat alone by the bar, waiting for Lewis to notice and join you but he was too occupied by the girls.

You sighed heavily ordering a drink and almost spilled it when you felt a hand on your back. You turned around to see those beautiful hazel eyes shining in the colorful lights and a huge grin you oh so loved.

“Hi gorgeous~”

Fernando said sitting down beside you, his hand not leaving your back radiating pleasant warmth.

“Well hello there Mr Alonso~”

You smiled widely at the older man as he checked you out. The light purple dress matched your dark skin perfectly driving the man crazy.

“The guy you dressed so beautifully for is really lucky”

“Oh there is no guy. Unless you want to be him~”

You teased sipping your drink, making a soft, barely visible in the lights blush appear on his face. Fernando noticed you started to get bolder and bolder with your flirting which made you even more attractive in his eyes. He loved confident women.

“I would be honored. May I have this dance then? “

Quickly finishing your drink you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor where you had a great time the whole night. You felt eyes on yourself the whole time, knowing damn well no one will let you forget about this till the end of your life. But you couldn’t care less, just indulged in the moment.

The next day you arrived to the Vegas circuit for the grand opening a little hangover with your grid bestie Lewis.

The two of you drove through the paddock on his electric scooter, one earphone in each ear’s listening to Eminem, with Lewis’ chin on your shoulder. You looked like a couple and to some acted like but in fact you considered each others siblings.

Lewis was not only your teammate but also the only person you felt comfortable talking about the racist hate comments you received, as he understood you the best. Being a black woman in an European men dominated sport was not easy. You got a lot of backlash and negative opinions from some fans, coworkers and FIA staff despite being one of the best drivers on the grid.

The only group that fully accepted you were your fellow drivers. They saw you as a precious gem, a little sister they had to defend at all cost, even though you weren’t the youngest.

The one individual that thought otherwise was the oldest one – Fernando Alonso. He didn’t see you as a little girl but as a woman, a very beautiful and gorgeous woman, the object of his desires, that's why he spent the whole previous night by your side, unable to deglue - a thing the whole paddock knew.

So when he noticed you and Lewis pass by his blood boiled. The man knew Lewis was nothing more than a brother to you but couldn’t help the jealousy accumulate inside of himself whenever he saw the two of you together.

“Fernando saw us”

Lewis murmured at which you just shrugged.

“I don’t like how he's looking at you... “

You rolled your eyes with a sigh. After having this conversation with Lewis so many times you already had enough. The man didn’t approve on your behavior relative to each other. He deemed the Spaniard was too old for you, considering your 12 years age gap.

Lewis just wanted the best for you, the best for his little sister and he knew you could do so much better than Fernando. He even arranged you multiple dates with guys he thought would be perfect for you, but you always dismissed them all sometimes not even showing up to the date to Hamilton’s displeasure.

You knew he just wanted good but you found it annoying and unnecessary.

“You’re exaggerating, as always... If you don’t like it so much you should’ve looked after me yesterday and not pick up chicks... “

You remarked before hopping off the scooter and walking in to the Mercedes garage.

Fernando clearly flirted with you whenever he had a chance, so you weren’t surprised seeing him beside your platform along with someone from media filming the whole thing, blowing you a sweet kiss and sending a wink just before you and Lewis were launched for your presentation.

Hamilton shook his head disappointed hearing your giggle. He was opposed to your little ‘relationship’ or whatever you could call it but you couldn’t care less.

Fernando was a really handsome man and your age gap wasn’t something you worried about. The thing that actually worried you was his flirting. As much as you enjoyed it, the man was flirting with literally everybody earning him a status of a womanizer, which drove you crazy.

You wished you were the only one he flirted with. Little did you know that with you he meant it, he really meant it.

By the time the elevator lowered you down the Spaniard was gone. You figured he must have gone to do the interviews, to which you were escorted just after stepping out of the lift.

Later that evening you were sitting in the recording room you rented and recorded your podcast where you talked about working as an F1 driver and answered your fans’ questions. Most of the questions were about your work, some about the relationships with other drivers while some were just mean comments.

When something like that happened you usually just hung up with that person mid their sentence and answered another call as if nothing. You tried not to worry much about hate comments but had to admit that some really got into your brain and heart.

After 3 tiring hours you were almost by the end when someone asked you a very interesting question.

“Well... I was wondering... What do you think about Fernando flirting with you?”

You chuckled softly remembering all the times Nando flirted with you, how your cheeks flushed and the world seemed to stop leaving only the two of you in motion. You wouldn’t admit you loved it, but you truly did, sometimes even fantasized about it.

“You know... It’s not like he’s only flirting with me. I saw him flirt with Lance... Mark... I’m sure you saw those clips too. Fernando’s just a flirtatious guy”

“But what if it’s genuine?”

But what if it’s actually genuine?... You could only wish it was... He'd been doing this for a very long time, yet he never actually invited you on a date, that’s why you doubted it.

“If it was, he would’ve asked me out a long time ago. Unless he’s shy and tries to do it right now through you!”

You joked before thanking the girl and moving on to another person. Good thing it was the last one, because after the previous call the only thing you wanted to do was to drown yourself in your foolish fantasies.

“Last but not least – anonymous. Bring it up!”

“Would you be mad if Fernando actually tried to ask you out through somebody?...”

That voice... You could recognize it everywhere as it lingered behind Fernando almost always. Lance’s scared voice sounded in your earphones making you laugh. You never though Nando was actually too shy to ask you to a date himself, considering his shameless flirting and a status of a womanizer.

“Yes! Is he there with you?”

Silence fell on the other side before quiet bickering could be heard, then Alonso’s voice filled your ears.

“Hi...”

“Hi stranger. Is there something you would like to ask me?”

You smiled widely awaiting his response, legs jumping like crazy from excitement, teeth biting hardly into the bottom lip as the seconds felt like hours.

“Well... Uh... C-can you turn around?”

Frowning you did as he asked, turning in your chair to meet his silhouette waiting outside your glass office with a huge bouquet of field flowers – your favourite. You felt your heart melt at the thought that he remembered such little details about you. You gasped seeing him, that beautiful smile graced his face as he watched you turn back around.

“Couldn’t you just play along!? It could have been so romantic!”

He whined making you shake your head in amusement. You could not believe... The man always made you happy with just him being but this time you felt like on cloud 9.

“So?... What do you say?”

You sighed heavily thanking your audience before quickly dropping everything off and leaving the office.

“Do I have a choice?”

Asking playfully you grabbed Fernando’s arm and greeted his wingman.

“So where are we going?”

Lance dropped you off at one of the most expensive restaurants in Las Vegas, even though you told Fernando some beer and fries in a random bar was enough when he told you where you were going.

You were a little skimpy, coming from not so rich family and always felt chest pain when buying expensive things or when someone bought you something.

Alonso knew it well but he wanted to give you the whole world so since that date he had been showering you with presents, not letting you complain about the price nor giving them away.

“Fernando?...”

“Yes?”

“Please be honest... Why did it took you so long to ask me out?...”

You asked after you ordered your food. That question occupied your mind since you started to flirt with each other. You thought that if that womanizer actually liked you, he would’ve asked you on a date a long time ago, which slowly made you lose faith in the chemistry between you two. The man sighed heavily gathering his thoughts before he responded.

“Well... I have to admit I was scared... I have a big, toe curling crush on you since we’ve met but I guess I was just scared that such a beautiful, smart and young woman won’t take a liking in an old man like me... Even though you were flirting back I just wasn’t sure... “

He confessed. You smiled reassuringly and captured his hands in yours.

“Oh Fernie... You could’ve tried... The worst that could happen would be me rejecting you but I could never... You’re too handsome and wise for me not to fall for you. And don’t you ever again dare call yourself old. Because you’re not. I don’t mind your age and neither should you worry about our age gap. It’s not that big after all...”

“12 years is not a lot?”

Fernando asked with a chuckle earning one back. The man loved hearing and seeing you laugh, especially when he caused it.

“It’s not! I know worse cases!”

You laughed along the man. You’ve spent the night enjoying each other’s company, hoping the day would never end.

You woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast. You slept in his hotel room, in his bed but nothing happened between you two. Fernando loved you too much to rush anything sexual, prefering to just shower you in sweet kisses and goodnight hugs.

“Buenos días princesa~”(good morning princess)

The man soon walked in, a wooden tray full of food and two mugs of dark liquid in his hands. He sat down beside you and waited for you to sit up before he placed the tray in front of you.

“I’ve made you some breakfast. Your favourite. Chocolate pancakes with strawberries and bananas and caramel latte macchiato... Which I had to order from Starbucks downstairs as I am unable to use the coffee machine. Too complicated for my old mind”

You smiled happily and placed a sweet kiss to his lips before taking a sip of your coffee.

“Mmm... Thank you... You know me so well”

“Of course I do. I’m your one and only after all”

The man grinned before settling down beside you and joining you in eating. The morning passed by too quickly and soon you drove with Fernando to the paddock. Fortunately no paparazzi noticed you yet.

For the rest of your stay in Vegas, Alonso took you on dates, always to a different place thinking of different activities every time. You felt like he was what was missing in your life as you always felt a part of you lost until that evening.

The media quickly caught on to your romance, writing an article after an article about your relationship. The whole grid started to call you an old married couple the moment they found out, being very happy for you two just as the whole F1 community.

The only one who was still opposed to it was Lewis, but with time Fernando has managed to convince him he wasn’t so bad and treated you right.

Soon the 2023 season finished, that meant that in some time the F1 social media team was going to organise a Secret Santa gift exchange.

You wondered who’d you get, secretly hoping for Lewis, it would’ve been the easiest task ever as you knew well what he craved.

Unfortunately you drew Yuki and decided to buy him some food and sweets as it was the safest gift you were sure he’d like.

You weren’t the only one who drew someone other than they wished to. Fernando drew Esteban but wanted to get you, so he started to run around the paddock asking every driver if they got you.

Eventually he traded with Kevin who was more than happy to take Esteban, he just couldn’t think of a gift for you, whereas Fernando had his gift bought for you way earlier which waited in his apartment for the exchange.

When the day came, the social media staff caught you after an interview and you started to film your bit, which was the last one.

You sat down by the table and greeted the fans before taking the present the interviewer gave you. You smiled the whole time as you unwrapped the paper, a small black box emerging from it.

Opening it you revealed a beautiful gold ring with a shining amethyst in the midle. Looking confused at the ring you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder.

You turned around rapidly to see Fernando on his one knee in front of you, a soft smile plastered on his face as he looked deep into your eyes.

Tears started to fill yours when you finally understood what was going on, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips.

Some might thing it was too early as you only dated for a month but it felt like you've been together for those 2 years of flirting. Besides, Fernando felt like you were the one. No. He knew you were the one and you knew he was the only one for you too.

You shook your head not believing and hid your face in your hands.

“Fernando. Alonso. Diaz... You’re impossible”

You said soon, pulling your hands away from your face and smiling widely at the man.

“Is that a yes?”

You didn’t say anything instead quickly putting the ring on and throwing yourself at the man, you both falling to the ground with happy giggles and applause from the people surrounding you.

Grabbing his cheeks you kissed him passionately, not caring even a little about the cameras filming you, you wanted this moment captured and the whole world to see it.

It was the best month in your whole life...

*:..｡o○✨○o｡..:*

I hope you liked it! Let me know if you have any ideas for future fics! 💞

[brucewaynehater101]

I miss the feeling I had when I first joined this fandom, I knew virtually nothing so everything was correct and I loved everything, even if that stuff just isn’t true, i was like

Bruce is a bit emotionally constipated but loves his kids? Hell yeah sounds legit

dick is a silly happy flippy man who is a bit promiscuous? Love that for him

Jason is a mega feminist literature nerd who is also buff and takes care of the street kids? Perfect man honest

Tim is a nerd who never sleeps and is queer and has never known the touch of a man nor woman? Sweet

Steph is waffle obsessed goofball? Well I prefer pancakes but right on

Cass is a mute badass who loves her fam? I love her

Duke is a normal dude? Well someone has to be and he seems neat

Alfred can do no wrong? Aight, I love old perfect tea men

Damian is a little prick? So are all middle schoolers give him time

But then I had to go learn about the characters and now I have complex opinions about them, and can see the inherent racism and sexism in how they are portrayed

You know before I joined the bat fandom I did not use the exclude tag in ao3? Like tmnt and dp have some bad stuff but usually I could just scroll past.

but now I am having to avoid fics where whole ass adults are bullying and/or oversexulizing a child

Im constantly on the look out for untagged batcwst

I struggle to find fics that don’t describe dicks ass

I have been in this fandom for probably about two years now and y’all I swear

sorry for ranting, and don’t worry I love all your stuff and I know the just back click don’t leave mean comments rule

I’m just tried bc most of the stuff I thought was true turned out to be false

Mm. I do find it a little exhausting trying to navigate the lines of what's canon, what shouldn't be canon (but is due to racism/sexism/homophobia/etc.), and just having fun.

I'm also trying to cultivate the mindset of what I've seen on Tumblr about not policing other people's ships/ideas. I am highly uncomfortable with some (particularly underaged people and adults dating), but I'm also not leaving hate comments. Like you said, the backspace exists for a reason.

Idk. There's a toooon of takes/ideas about the batfam that are inherently false, but as long as they aren't racist/sexist/etc takes, I don't see the harm in them. So what if someone wants a coffee obsessed Tim? So what if Jason's kill code is very strict? As long as they don't claim it's canon, let them be

But yeah. I have a mile long exclude list for fics on AO3. I used to use it only for triggers (I can not do stockhold syndrome, my lords), but now it's got other weird ass shit I've stumbled upon (I saw a fic where the batkids were spanked as punishment??? Like I said, not gonna leave hate comments or single anyone out. Just not my cup of tea).

I also am usually not a fan of romance/sex. It's why the batfam intrigued me so much (found families usually don't have that in it). I like exploring dynamics outside of romance and thus love the batfam. They've got so much going on that romance/sex is not needed. They are such a mess without that dynamic being added (talking about the Bats getting with a third party, but, again, trying not to yuck anyone's yum).

However, I agree. There's a ton of misinformation within fandom. I like how complex canon gets with the characters, but there's also widely different takes with them (mostly talking about Bruce here. He can either be trying or just a straight up horrible dad).

[pinkandgoldensoul]

Heyo!

Since I'm definitely a fan of your writings and this tinkling feeling of requesting you something has been irking me, can I request something like an arranged marriage with Pierre?

Angsty and maybe a happy ending. That's upto you.

Love your works. Hoping for more great pieces.❤️

Happy New Year 🎊

(At the end of the fic I'll leave a note about this request ❤️)

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

pairing: pierre gasly x female!reader (feat. esteban ocon x female!reader and charles leclerc as reader's bestfriend) genre: arranged marriage, angst, fluff and comfort !tw!: swearing, mention of s*x (not graphic), cheating, violence word count: 18.6k plot: you loved him, he loved you, and neither knew. Will an arranged marriage, an old love triangle and a special friend be enough to finally make you confess your true feelings?

Walking down the aisle, a bouquet clumsily held by trembling fingers, your whole chest was filled with quick butterflies batting wings, desperate to spread free. He was perfect. An astonishingly crafted smirk plastered on his face, ready for the flashes of the cameras to be captured, the suit slid on his athletic body without creases. You reckoned yourself inadequate in that white, plain dress: feeling pins pulling your hair left and right after hours of work by the hairdresser, the steady arm of your dad was the only anchor to the present moment. He never strayed his stare away from you, removing your veil in a slow, tantalizing motion. There were no vows to be exchanged and get mistaken in anxiety, no rings to be put through the wrong finger: you were and had always been his since forever, without he even had to ask. You peeked behind Pierre’s shoulder and saw Charles showing you an encouraging smile, which you tried to reciprocate despite sweating cold. You remembered his huge grin when Pierre had handed him the invitation: dimples on full display, Charles had flicked his eyes between the two of you and had been stoked ever since he was told he’d be best man. He’d been happier than Pierre himself had been about the news of the engagement with you and, consequently, about the wedding.

>>♥<<

«Okay, cool.» That had been his answer to you two fathers’ decision. They had grown best friends over the years, and they both didn’t like Pierre’s womanizer lifestyle, which was quite detrimental to his reputation. So your dad had decided to offer his own daughter to the Gasly’s like a sacrificial victim, knowing you had always had sympathy for the youngster and sure he would simply love you back with time. Of course, you were painfully aware of Pierre’s usual behavior around girls and, even though befriending him in teenage had made you helplessly fall in love with him, getting married felt like the cruelest assault to your dignity. For sure you would love him. And for sure he would not. Sitting on a couch right in front of each other, your parents discussing a couple of meters away, he simply bore his eyes into yours while drinking a glass of juice, legs spread out. «We’re going to have fun the first night together or…?» Your eyes threw a dagger to him, hit in your pride for the insensitive comment; Pierre wasn’t known for being delicate and considerate, when you used to hang out in group with him. After all, his humor was one of the things that had you capitulate before his feet. «Okay, I see. No jokes.» You squeezed your fingers into fists, uptight, dissatisfaction cursing through your blood. «Not on such things, Pierre.» «Like what? Sex?» he raised a brow. «My wedding.» you sighed. «Our wedding, you mean.» «Doesn’t seem as pivoting to you. Nothing will really change for you.» «We’re both going to wear a ring, y/n. Never seen a marriage without the groom or the bride.» He downed the last sip of the juice and placed the glass on the coffee table. You knew from the start it wouldn’t be a fairytale.

>>♥<<

«Don’t think a bride should stand on her own and look so sad.» Charles’ words whispered in your ear made you roll eyes and brought an immediate smile to your face. «Don’t think a best man should bother the bride with stupid remarks.» «Do you think it’s stupid?» he asked, raising his brow to insinuate doubt. «Pierre is having a blast and you… well, you’re here listening to the stupid remarks of the best man.» The small stem glass of champagne you still held had dried out of bubbles, but seemed interesting enough to draw your eyes down; Charles, genuinely sorry to witness your let down expression, wetted his lips and briefly glanced back at Pierre, laughing and dancing with the other guests. «Let’s go dance.» Caught by surprise, you tilted your head back up, wide eyes. «C’mon, don’t pretend you didn’t hear!» Charles chuckled, holding both your hands. «We’re going to make fools of ourselves…» «But that’s what we do the best when we’re together!» You let yourself be dragged in the middle of the dance floor set up under an outdoor gazebo: Charles’ ridiculous moves made a visceral laugh emerge from the depths of your fears, as he tried to involve you in his bubbly fun, despite the dress not helping the flow of your groove. «Geez, I feel so awkward!» you let out, head leaning backwards, invested by a childish happiness. «Just dance it out, we’re doing amazing!»

The sun setting down at the horizon threw an orange gold ray cut through the air, hitting Charles’ profile, getting both enlightened and obscured in two poetic halves which danced relentless and made you twirl around without a single thought. Out of notice, the guests had gathered around the two of you, enjoying the show you had put up; and when the music faded out to a slower tune, catching your breath in Charles’ arms, hands resting on his heaving chest, your sight found Pierre’s blue eyes, filled with an unreadable expression. As slower notes filled the air, he walked over to you, confident in each firm step, putting Charles’ luminous smile in defeat: when Pierre was around, there was no chance for you to look at any other person. He simply took your hands, implicitly warning Charles to move away and make room for him, tenderly joining the swinging fabric of your dress. Too affected by his presence and by racing thoughts about the future you would share with him from that moment on, you placed your burning cheek upon his chest, right above his heart. «Why didn’t you ask me to dance?» His question breached your overthinking silence. «You were too busy entertaining the guests.» You didn’t mean for your words to sound as veiled of sadness and resigned as they did, but you felt somehow content in letting Pierre know how you felt about the whole situation. He had you wrapped around his finger; his ring one. You were engraved in the inner circle of gold touching his skin, kissing it tenderly, vowing love to him any second. «I thought I’d make you uncomfortable giving you all my attention. You dropped a glass during lunch because of it, and I don’t want you to get hurt.» His smirk disseminated deep, red shame on your cheeks; why did you put blush on earlier that morning if Pierre was managing to do all the work by himself?

An unerasable pang of hurt chained your feet to the ground, unable to sink deeper into Pierre’s gentle hands holding you throughout the dance: you told yourself it wouldn’t shatter you completely if you thought he didn’t mean any of the things he did, he said. Holding you closer, cheek resting on his white, unbuttoned shirt, he left an unexpected and unseen peck on the top of your head, as you both still lulled to the beat. He then leaned on a side, dropping whispered words into your ear. «Want to see a smile on my wife’s face. It’s our wedding, after all, not our funeral.» As much as you wanted to feel hatred, you let Pierre’s jokingly voice sink, unconsciously obliging to his request right away. You felt young, drunk, foolish. You’d enjoy every bit of attention he’d spare you. Every single scramble.

>>♥<<

Pierre had insisted on picking you up before entering your newly bought apartment, to stick to the tradition; between giggles and laughs, you had admired you two’s mothers astonishing work of petals and candles signaling the way over to the bedroom. The dim lights enchanted your sight, as you stood speechless before the bed. Pierre’s hands caressing your forearms and slowly making their way up to your shoulders awoke you and froze you at once. The tip of his nose brushing your neck, you didn’t dare move nor speak as Pierre pressed soft kisses all over. Were you ready? Pierre encircled your waist with his arm, both relieving and accentuating the knot forming in your stomach. Would you ever be ready? You hadn’t talked about that moment, you hadn’t considered there’d be the need to. You thought he wouldn’t even touch you, once everybody’s eyes would be out of sight. So why was he taking all his time carefully unbuttoning the back of your dress, leaving open mouthed kisses on the bare skin he had available? «Pierre…» You soon realized your moan had been an incentive to Pierre when an airy chérie was whispered upon your shivering skin. «Pierre, I don’t know if we should…» «It’s our first night married, y/n. This is exactly what we should do.» His voice was warm, slightly raspy, perfectly calm and collected, concealing a burning desire underneath. Pierre tucked a lock of your neat hair behind your ear, leaving your neck shivering at the touch. «I know this probably isn’t how you hoped your wedding to be… But now I’m your husband, and I’m willing to do everything I’m supposed to. I’m not backing down.» «Will you ever love me?» you asked, suspended. Pierre tucked another strand of hair in the same spot. «I can’t promise that.» Of course, how would he? «But I’m always going to respect you, no matter what. I swore it and I’ll stand by it.» You slowly turned around to face him, picking up the gown of your dress and pressing a hand to your chest so that it wouldn’t slip off due to the strings being loosened. «Please, don’t… Please, promise you won’t hurt me, Pierre.» The pleading tone of your voice unexpectedly pulled a string inside Pierre’s chest. «Do you really think I’d do that on purpose? Y/n, we’ve been… we’ve known each other for so many years.» «That’s what scares me.» You diverted your gaze, staring at your own reflection on the window: you were now gripping at Pierre’s shirt, the bodice dangerously threatening to slip down, eyes brimming with tears. How could you be more miserable than asking your husband not to hurt you? «Y/n, I’m not a teen anymore. And I’m kind of offended that you think I’m what other people say and what the media want to make everybody believe.» «I wouldn’t have agreed to the wedding, if I believed all the things they said about you.» you whispered. «Then trust the words I said at the altar.» Pierre delicately cupped your cheek, leaving a slow, tender kiss on the opposite temple. «For better and for worse…» he said, boring his eyes into yours. «For richer and for poorer…» he carried on, swiftly freeing your arms from the dress’ sleeves. «In sickness and in health…» Pierre breathed upon your lips, grabbing the dress fallen down to your hips. «Until death do us part.» Gripping tight Pierre’s arms, you let him take your breath away with his sloppy kiss, shivering, despite your face feeling warm and flushed in heat. «I will love you, y/n.» Pierre tucked yet another strand of hair behind your ear. «Maybe not like a charming prince, but I will love you as much as I can.»

His fingers pressed on your shoulders, silently asking you to sit on the edge of the bed, to which you obliged without even thinking twice. The air was thick in pleasant tension: Pierre had let his jacket shuffling its way to the floor, staring at you as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt; on your side, you had joined his intentions fidgeting with the buttons crossing his chest and abs, fully focusing on the slow, tantalizing task, instead of searching the force to bear his magnetic eyes. The golden shade casted over your cheeks, blending with the natural reddish shade of feelings spreading over your skin, left Pierre with an unexplainable tug inside the chest, pushing him to bend down and trap you on the mattress with yet another kiss, suddenly impatient. His shirt long forgotten on the floor upon the jacket and his tie, Pierre’s roaming hands dragged your dress down, making sure you’d slip completely out of it, so that you’d be bare for him to avidly see, touch and savor. Senses overwhelmed by his presence, helplessly amazed at how he could enchant your limbs and make them so reactive and sensitive to his touch, your fingers searched for relief on his body, between his brownish locks of hair, on his muscled neck and upper arms. Anything, to release the growing yearning he was masterfully building and lighting up inside of you. Pierre stopped all of the sudden, one elbow keeping him up, eyes lost in focus, as the fingers of his free hand traced an imaginary line from your sternum, down your chest. Before you could swallow hard at the gesture, he placed a lewd kiss right where his pointer finger had stopped. Again, uncontrolled, a soft moan escaped your already opened lips, tugging at his hair as to both pull him away and push him deeper into your soul. He raised his eyes to look at you hungrily, lips still stained with your skin. «I will honor you all the days of my life, y/n.» Pierre read the soft stare you gave him and the lovingly caress of your hand on his head as an invitation to drag his mouth upon your tender breast, finally free from the white cloth he had wished to tear apart since he had seen you walking down the aisle, swearing to himself he’d not be satisfied until he’d heard you scream his name from the top of your lungs, with his own hands, eyes and heart full of you.

The wedding being held in Italy at the beginning of September, right after Monza’s race weekend, you both had spent only a couple of days in the new house in Milan, in the attempt of building the sense of affectionate routine you would inevitably lose after taking the flight for Azerbaijan, following Pierre in the double-header awaiting him. The media had called it “racing-moon”. It was no ordinary honeymoon, travelling across the globe to support your husband, watching him with a pair of headphones and staring at him from a screen inside Alpine’s box, shying away from paparazzi’s cameras ready to capture glimpses of intimacy you didn’t even know how to spark yourself. A night of love wasn’t enough to erase the helpless feeling of distance and separation around Pierre: you were friends, sure, but your heavy crush on him had always prevented the relationship from growing further as it had happened with Charles. Daydreaming about him laying down your bed, earphones plugged, you had known every single detail about the things he liked while being in your early teens; now, looking at him packing his suitcase, standing at the doorframe you realized you either had never known him before or you had forgotten anything at the altar once he had kissed you alive.

«Do you need help?» you asked, closing and releasing your fingers from a fist, feeling useless. «Oh, didn’t notice you were there.» he quickly peeked at you. «No, thanks! I don’t know how, but it took half the time.» You raised a brow, leaning against the frame with arms crossed. «Maybe… it was the perfectly organized wardrobe I spent two days filling up with all your clothes?» «Mmh, I’m not really sure… Maybe I’ve just got quick with packing, since I’ve been doing it every other week for years now.» His smirk triggered an eye roll in you, so noticeable that Pierre turned to you, taking the suitcase off the bed and letting it roll on the floor. Not kind of expecting him to get that close to you after only stopping by the room, suddenly aware of how his stare could get your whole body drawn to him, succumbed to him, enchanted and gravitating around his brightness, you let yourself be courted by Pierre’s teasing fingers running up your arms. «I’m done now, so…» he said. «So?» «The bed is clear.» Throwing him an amused glance, about to laugh at how lewd his voice had sounded while hinting at the endless list of things you could do there, you pretended not to get his point. «Well, good job! We have somewhere to sleep tonight then.» «There’s no way, right?» Pierre squinted his eyes, hands still warming your skin caressed by the hot Italian wind blowing from the window. «Way to do what?» you asked, faking innocence once again. «I think you perfectly know.»

September’s heat had paired up with the warmth creeping up your ears while Pierre encircled your waist and inched over, causing butterflies inside your chest to awake your heart, moving past your thoughts to put them to sleep, as an overwhelming flow of love made you crave that heavenly attention and touch every second more. Pierre seemed to stop in his relentless chase of a kiss: he stood still, enjoying the closeness, the intimacy of the moment, with your arms enclosed around his neck. There was no rush. The house was hollow and silent; only your breaths could be heard, mixed with the distant chatter coming from the street. Maybe that was the happiest and most peaceful corner of life he would ever know. Maybe holding your waist knowing that you were his wife, that he had settled his forever home, maybe spending his life with you was happiness. He struggled forming deep rooted love feelings towards you, yet could picture the two of you having kids so easily, travelling together, filling that empty house with memories. Maybe it was the fondest look in your eyes making every fantasy so incredibly near and easy. There was something, though, that Pierre didn’t find hard to spark at all. «Changed your mind?» you whispered, teasingly but soft. Attraction. Pierre was so desperately enamored with your body; to be fair, he had always quite been. Untouched by innocence, back at the time you would hang out in group, he would see you utterly oblivious to how other guys glanced at you and wonder if you had ever had sex before. The night of your first time together – the wedding’s – he had both been unfazed and surprised about noticing you weren’t a virgin: it totally made sense for someone as beautiful as you to have been with a guy, but at the same time he had no clue of who you had appointed as the one, and it was weird, because you used to hang out with the same people. He had always thought you had been in his universe, like a satellite, and had always taken your presence for granted, without ever considering he could be the planet on the margin of a totally different galaxy you shined in. Pierre was so intimately envious of a past you didn’t allow him in, and his only way to cope was making sure he could be your only future. «Not at all.» The fastest flicker of his eyes down to your lips was the warning, which you took in with delight: and Pierre was all over you, dragging you into his lighthearted desires and plans, igniting a shy flattering shade beneath your cheeks.

Pierre had insisted on entering the paddock hand in hand; in return, you had insisted on giving your right hand, standing on his left side. He had frowned just enough for you to capture it, not able to understand your request. «As you wish.» But you knew why: and your thumb gently stroking his wedding ring knew as well. Unexplainable excitement was the first feeling which had insinuated in you as you put foot past the turnstiles: Pierre had reminded you quite a few cameras would be following you in a bee line right around you. You were too happy to care, in your first outing as a married woman. As a married couple.

«Oh, hello to the royal couple!» You couldn’t stop yourself from eye-rolling at Charles’ comment, drinking Pierre’s laugh like a shot of bliss. «What, are you jealous?» They laughed and joked around, giving friendly pats to each other, while you watched them with a grin plastered on your face, enjoying the luck of spending time with people you loved. So many things had changed, but it still felt like you were still sixteen, walking without destination in group, young and careless, emptying your pockets full of dreams and using them as currency of exchange between each other. «Catch up with you later, I’ve got a meeting now!» «See you later!» you waved at Charles, as Pierre greeted him.

Entering Alpine’s hospitality you squeezed Pierre’s hand in fright: out of the blue, a deafening clapping concert made your heart fly across the room, as mechanics, engineers and other people from the staff celebrated you two. Pierre looked down at you, curious to see your reaction, still infected by the serene and uplifted atmosphere, swimming in delight as soon as your eyes clicked with his and saw you flattered. There was a bit of pride in showing you off like a trophy, proving everybody wrong with the assumption he’d never settle down and never find the one. Well, he didn’t really choose you out of love. But nobody was meant to know that.

«Congratulations, mate.» The voice reaching from behind your back made you turn, despite it being directed at Pierre. Your eyes flew high to Esteban’s face, enlarging in surprise: he wasn’t looking down at you, caught in the weirdly friendly interaction with your husband. But as soon as Pierre was dragged into pats and hugs by team members, you were left with a whole bag of memories and discarded feelings coming back to the surface, standing still next to someone you once knew. «It’s like the old times, isn’t it?» he casually said, as you both stared at the packed room, side by side. «No, Esteban. Everything changed.» Bittersweetly shoving your left hand before his face to make a definite statement, he carefully grabbed it and brushed your ring with the thumb, taking a close look. «I don’t believe so.» he let go of your hand, smiling politely. «What are you talking about?» you asked, kind of annoyed. «You still think you have Pierre all to yourself when we know nobody does.» «Don’t… don’t you dare talk crap about him in my presence. You know nothing.» Staring into the void, you tried to stay calm and collected, swallowing the phantoms of the past. «I respect that. But I just wanted to remind you of when you were the one talking crap about him in my presence.» «That was years ag-» «And I was there to listen to you.» You dropped the accusatory finger you had brought dangerously near his chest, mind invaded by guilt and yellowed pages of life. «I’ll still be here for you when Pierre messes up again.» «He won’t, Este.» «We’ll see.» he shrugged, glancing back at the room. «But I’ve spent more time with him in the last year than you have, and I know he is no easy character.» «I’m not going to change my mind, if that’s what you’re trying to do.» you raised a brow, skeptical. «I simply wanted to wish you good luck.» Esteban’s impassive tone left you with the urge of replying: as much as you were filled with doubts and fears, you somehow trusted Pierre and his promises and wouldn’t bear anyone implying stuff. Especially Esteban. Because, to a degree, he knew the situation better than any other. His eyes, that despicable spark of mischief, anger and regret inside of them told you things you didn’t want to hear. «The staff would like to get to know my wife if only my teammate would let her be.» Pierre’s amused interruption startled you, almost feeling caught red-handed with the most terrible crime: talking to a guy he trusted and had grown to hate over time. «Sorry, Pierre! My fault. I was… keeping up with the Gasly’s.» The awkwardness and the tension of the moment didn’t go unnoticed to any of you, and you mentally thanked Pierre’s hand resting on your waist, slowly guiding you away from Esteban, who still stared at you with a small courtesy smile. «We’ll have to bear his presence, I know. Trust me, if I could, I’d rather have him on the other side of the planet.» Pierre sighed defeated while whispering those apologies laced with hatred in your ear and a pang of nostalgia, guilt, sorrow pushed you a little closer to him. «He’s not a problem, Pierre. We know how to be civil.» He looked at you, faking amazement at your reply, nodding his head with raised brows. «You’re more mature than I thought.» «More mature than you are? For sure.» You expected him to laugh; instead, he grinned in silence, a strange sparkle wobbling in his irises. A part of you clung onto it, wishing it was a veil of tenderness, affection, or anything like it towards you. For a moment, you held the hope in your hands, and you carefully caressed it, cherished it, making room in your heart to plant it and nurture it there, as if that single twinkle could ever be the seed of love.

>>♥<<

Baku’s street didn’t seem as bumpy to Pierre, now that he was walking on it with a small group of engineers; the main straight heading to the finishing line seemed unnecessarily long, especially since he had just travelled the entire track and had the pitlane as destination. Left with nothing else to discuss with his team, he enjoyed the sun setting and painting the city gold, taking it easy and slow. «Pierre!» The Frenchman turned around and immediately grinned wide, waving to Charles jogging to him. «Track walk? Thought I’d see you speeding riding a bike.» Charles chuckled, adjusting his jingling bracelets. «I wanted to enjoy the atmosphere better.» «Yeah, me too.» They strolled pensive, no rush to be drowned by the buzzing life of the paddock. «I can’t believe it.» Pierre looked at his friend, who had a pleased grin painted and hung by his dimples. «What?» «This is your first race weekend married. And I was your best man. Isn’t it crazy?» «Time flies, Charles.» Pierre scoffed with a smile. «I saw you celebrated in the hospitality, earlier.»

As Pierre narrated the small party the team had organized to Charles’ ecstatic eyes, his thoughts lingered on you, on the myriads of unexpected congratulations he had received for choosing such a kind and fine woman and making her his. Though, there were moments he felt like he was just above an acquaintance to you. Pierre sighed. «What was that?» Charles asked. «Sometimes I think I don’t really know y/n. Not as much as I should, I mean.» «You do know her, though. You’ve been hanging out together since high school.» «Charles, I don’t even know who her first boyfriend was.» Pierre’s pinch of helplessness caught Charles by surprise, reciprocating his sudden stare with bewilderment. «Did- I didn’t even know she’s had a boyfriend.» the Monegasque stuttered. Pierre looked down at the asphalt. «Hoped you did. But you see? We don’t really know her.» «Well… You’re married now. You have all your life to get to know her.» Charles put his arm around Pierre’s shoulders, giving him an encouraging look. «Yep. That’s my best man right there!» Pierre reciprocated the grab and smiled as the two of them walked down into the pitlane, serving friendly smiles and beautiful shots to the photographers buzzing around the garages.

>>♥<<

«Hello?» «Uhm, am I disturbing you?» «Yes, absolutely. But I’m going to be the nicest just for you.» «Thanks for the usual teasing, Charles.» «What’s up?» «I… I’m deeply embarrassed, but I think I’m lost. I can’t find the way to the track.» «Never heard of Google Maps?» «I’ve tried, but I ended up exactly back at the hotel.» «Ooof. There’s actually someone out there who’s worse than me then.» «Ah, I wouldn’t have called you if Pierre wasn’t busy.» «Can’t I be busy as well?» «Cha’…» «I’m just joking. Are you at the hotel?» «Yep.» «’M on my way.»

The bubbly air of that Saturday morning brushed your bare arms, anticipating the warmth falling onto the grey asphalt, as you walked quickly alongside Charles, trying not to get stopped by fans too many times. «Why didn’t you come to the track with him?» «I think he tried to wake me up, but I… uhm… fell asleep.» «It’s incurable, right?» You both chuckled, still marching towards the paddock. «How is it going?» «Uh?» «With Pierre.» A horn startled you, while Charles waved towards the Tifosi on the other side of the street and smiled under his Rayban’s. «Good! I mean, way better than I thought.» Charles studied your expression, letting your own statement sink in. «You know, I talked with him yesterday. He asked me if I knew who your first boyfriend was.» «Did you tell him?!» you gasped. «Of course not, I’m not that mad.» he looked straight ahead. «But he seemed somehow disappointed. He really wants to know you on a deeper level.» «And tell him about my hookups as he did with us? No, thanks.» «Not necessarily about past relationships. There are so many things you could rediscover now as a couple, and he’d like to. He… he cares. Pierre isn’t the asshole you believe him to be.» «You know my reasons, Charles.» «I do, y/n. But I also know Pierre, and I’ve never seen him as determined and serious in any other relationship before.» A doubtful glance at him turned into an amused snort, as you saw Charles’ dimples already exposed for you to admire. «I should give him a chance, uh?» you joked, kicking a pebble. «Yeah, you definitely should.» «I hate you.» «What’s that for?» Charles chuckled. «You’re too convincing.» «Maybe you only wanted to hear someone else’s confirmation.» You took a moment to reflect, still looking at his green eyes, letting the sentence resonate inside of you. Perhaps you had only been waiting for a sensible reasoning to justify the senseless, self-destructive and visceral need of trying to build a stronger relationship with Pierre.

>>♥<<

Crossing the room, hands intertwined with yours, Pierre felt alert, almost knowing something about bringing you along to that small reception organized for commercial reasons only was intrinsically wrong. Until he spotted a pair of brown eyes lingering way too long on the fine straps grazing your shoulders’ skin. Esteban’s. Despite the years, despite trying, despite the countless shots he had given to their relationship, Pierre couldn’t let go of hatred: the memories of the three of you in the same couple of meters, in the same suffocating room were still a fresh wound which had reopened once more. Unaware of anything, you reciprocated with a reassuring smile Pierre’s tighter hold on your hand, an enquiring look on your face. He expected you to stiffen at Ocon’s mere sight; instead, you stood like a fragile yet flexible flower against the blowing wind, only caring about being… as marvellous as you were. Pierre had been learning it to his disadvantage each day a tiny bit more, trying not to read too much into your rosy cheeks and your fond, unmistakable stares. The delicacy and the grace you would use with others any time you got the chance to talk with people from the team, the paddock, the entire world, really, hit him in an unknown spot of the soul. Probably as hard as Ocon approaching the two of you with a champagne glass in hand did on his nerves. «Didn’t expect to see you here.» Esteban said, only addressing you. Chewing a lump of awkwardness, you threw the quickest glance over to Pierre to check his reaction after being deliberately ignored by his teammate. «Here I am.» you whispered, pressing your lips together with an embarrassed smile. «Wasn’t I clear enough when I told you to stay away from her?» A lightning struck the room. The bitterness in Pierre’s tone triggered a light-hearted laugh from Esteban, theatrically opening the arm and letting the small wave of champagne wash the resentments of the past away. «Come on, Pierre! How many years passed? We aren’t teenagers anymore.» His fingers grabbed your hand tighter, restraining himself from spitting words of fire against his former teammate once again: the bottled-up anger, though, had resurfaced much to Pierre’s surprise, and to yours as well, pressing the button “play” on the reruns of the day their entire relationship crumbled.

No matter what you could’ve done to avoid it, Pierre and Esteban were born to disagree. Nobody could stop that tickling bomb hiding in both their chests as soon as they would spend enough time together to let it explode. Even without you, they would’ve nurtured antipathy for each other; that was how it was supposed to be, and they both knew it. Nestling against Pierre’s loving arms draping you all, you stared at an indefinite point of the packed, but still empty, room. «Do you think it’s my fault?» Pierre placed his chin on your shoulder to listen to your whispered rumbling, joining you in the contemplation of the void. «No, I don’t. He was a douchebag even before treating you the way he did.» It didn’t seem like he was lying, to be fair. You knew very little about the stormy past between the two, since you had met Esteban way later than you had befriended Pierre; he had never told you a thing about a terrible kid who grew up with like a brother and then discarded him due to insane competitiveness. Esteban was dead to him. A Mr. Nobody existing without any string to his life but hate and resentment’s. Unspoken truth, they both liked you and cared for you in very different ways, so it was only natural for them to notice each other’s evident preference for you and clash because of it; that was how it was supposed to be, and they both knew it, deep deep down. «Can we please forget about him?» The careful urge of the sentence was paired with a swift brush of his hands taking yours, silently asking you to dance to the music now blasting through some speakers in the room. Maybe lightness was all you both needed to be happy.

Singapore’s humidity clung onto your lungs like a suffocating net, twirled around your trachea, squeezing it tight. With an invisible layer of sweat all over your skin, heat as well as worries and doubts made you melt before the evidence, before reality. Two weeks and you had already become a ghost. Imprisoned in the highest tower of the lies’ castle, your honeymoon had turned into a tour around the globe inside a golden cage: everybody saw you as the “trophy-wife”, a peculiar and exotic animal stupid enough to bear Pierre’s company, showed left and right, avidly and superficially looked at, never considered as a real person.

Any time Pierre would come home from unbelievably long training sessions and meetings of all sorts, you didn’t even have the strength to start an argument and cry your loneliness out. He’d absent-mindedly kiss your cheek, go take a shower and leave you to your unfinished essay draft sitting in the dust of your laptop’s memory. Eating some take-out he’d leave you choosing in religious silence, punctuated with brief chat, you’d often watch a movie on the couch: staring blankly at the screen, you’d focus on how foreign the touch of his arm around your shoulder would feel. An afterthought, quick enough to disturb the turbulence of your headspace. I simply wanted to wish you good luck. Luck. It would’ve never been out of love, but out of pure chance. As if Pierre could never learn to love anyone. Still, admitting to yourself Esteban was right would’ve been an unnecessary added humiliation. «We’re too slow in the middle sector, I’m understeering everywhere…» It was a secret you wanted to keep buried in your chest. «But you gain in the last sector, you see? Our top speed is good.» Not being reciprocated. An ineffable hurt. You miserably looked at your husband debriefing intensely with his performance engineer, standing at the back of the garage so that you wouldn’t be in the way of the many mechanics working around the car. Envious, you fixed your gaze upon the fan Pierre held in his hand, still busy talking and pointing at data on the screen. The air felt too thick to be breathed in, too dense to slide down your lungs and swoop your dark thoughts away. You had agreed to be his wife, due to the endless love you had. But what if he let that love slowly wither and die? What if you could grow out of love? What if finally having him was enough for you to become indifferent? What if neither of you could remain loyal to the promises you vowed?

Swallowing hard, you shut your eyes shooing the sudden dizziness away; and at the very same time, you felt a gentle weight lingering on your right shoulder, asking quietly for permission. You opened your eyes, obliged to wide them as soon as you saw it was Esteban. «Here, drink this.» A water bottle was handed to you, still struck by the soft eyes and the attention being addressed to you. «It’s electrolytes. With this weather I always make sure to keep hydrated, since it’s easy to lose liquids and mineral salts as well.» A thousand questions ran through your mind, to the point Esteban could almost see them being scattered from one pupil to the other. He invited you to drink once again, poking pride sitting in his chest as he had noticed you being in discomfort first. First than… him. The quick glance Pierre gave the two of you was enough to stir up even stronger satisfaction, a lovely victory in the endless mind-war they fought. «Thank you.» It came out stifled, high-pitched, a bit squeaky, but somehow filled with unexpected sadness. Pierre crossed the garage in a couple of strides, wearing a mask of concern you couldn’t read the authenticity of, shielding you with his body from the unwanted attention Esteban had provided you with. «Are you okay? You could’ve told me you were thirsty.» «Pierre, I’m fine.» you told him off, almost whispering. He darted a glance at his teammate once again as soon as his hand reached yours to grab the water bottle back, willing to take off the hideous smile he wore on his face. Lots of eyes inside the garage had observed the scene in silence, still glancing over you, as Pierre’s attentions and barely noticeable physical touch felt all too much to bear at once. You would’ve died for it, only a couple of months earlier. If only the wedding weren’t a well-thought plan, a pact between family friends, a tie nobody but you craved intimately and deeply because of the loving, totally disregarding the real practical reasons behind it. Ocon’s silhouette being drowned in his side of the garage made your mind slip back into the past, unboxing a metallic box of memories you had buried six feet underground.

Disappointed. The disapproval you had read in Pierre’s face right as you showed up to the club next to the “new friend” you wanted to be joining your historical trio had your heart shattering like a glass of wine from a polished tablecloth, painting the floor in red diamonds. Pierre had dragged you in the middle of the dancing crowd, leaving Esteban hanging at the entrance before a confused Charles. «Why did you bring him here?!» «He’s… I wanted to introduce him to you and Cha’!» you yelled, in order to be heard amidst the chaos. «I know him already, and he’s an asshole. Now tell him to leave! I don’t want him anywhere near me!» «You can’t force anyone to leave a public place! And… And I want to spend time with all of you.» He bored his eyes into yours, letting the blasting music take over your thoughts. «I’m not hanging out with you if you buzz around him.» It was definitive. «Call me when you’re done wasting time with that piece of shit.» Giving you his back, you saw him dive into the sea of people, to find and rapidly grab the waist of the brunette who had accompanied him to the party; he didn’t even bother to be far enough so that you wouldn’t see him shove his tongue down her throat, a tangle of hands messily roaming, touching, squeezing yearning skin. Este’s hand softly intertwining yours guided you towards a quiet table, to which Charles sat waiting, with drinks for the three of you; and as much as you would’ve liked to be grateful for Charles’ delighted stare, for Esteban’s soothing words, your heart still drowned in bubbles at the bottom of your cocktail. He’s my boyfriend. Those were the words you were about to say at the door of the club, to Pierre. You had already anticipated the sweetness of the moment, the satisfaction in proving you weren’t his little puppy, a slave rebelled to the master showing him the jingling keys which had freed him. The mere need to prove him anything was the undeniable sign of slavery. You’d never be free.

>>☆<<

«Are you sure?» «Yeah…» «Here? Don’t you want to go-» You shut Esteban up pressing your lips on his, carrying on the messy make out session you had started in the club’s bathroom. «Y/n, are you really sure?» The kiss was interrupted once again, leaving you with an unbearable, unsatisfied yearn making your heart swell and explode in ashes of frustration. «Don’t you love me, Este?» you whined, your fingertip dragging his bottom lip down in the drunken attempt to seduce him even further. Of course he loved you. He had agreed to take your virginity away as you leaned your back onto a bathroom’s door, during the most boring and miserable of nights out, accepting to be humiliated by Pierre in front of you, his own girlfriend, and dancing awkwardly in the crowd before you dragged him there to pour out the unexplainable need of getting your brain fucked out. Esteban loved you purely, too purely, to be fair: he felt like a noob and inexpert, an amateur he was not, while listening to your heavenly choir of whimpers and profanities, with his fingers gripping tight your hips, as not to lose you. Deep down he knew he should’ve been satisfied and content, he should’ve enjoyed that piece of pleasure and love – but was it love to you? Esteban wasn’t quite sure – because he had managed to snatch you away from Pierre’s clutch, he had laid his hand onto someone he hadn’t had already: he had won where Pierre had lost. Still, thrusting into you as waves of pleasure rocked your body and transfigured your expression, Esteban only felt like he had lost you, indeed, like he had never truly had you, not even physically. And when your warm hand caressed his cheek, he got the confirmation: you pitied him, because no matter how bold the “boyfriend” tag could be, your heart could only crave, think of and wish Pierre.

The break-up was, nonetheless, harmful. After damning yourself, considering how nice and kind Esteban was to you, how sweet some of the moments you had spent together had been, you had come to the conclusion that no other feeling in the world could replace or overshadow the consuming love you felt for Pierre. You didn’t need it to be easy and satisfying; as hurtful as it could be, you only needed him. And to his own dismay, Esteban knew it.

«Can you drop me off at that bar over there?» you pointed at the end of the street. «Why?» «I simply need to hand this to Pie-» «Oh, no, just save it. I should’ve known.» You frowned, looking at his tensed arms. «Is there something wrong?» He scoffed, gripping the steering wheel ‘til his knuckles turned white. «Absolutely not! My girlfriend only runs after another guy who also happens to be a moron and doesn’t give a shit about her while I’m being the third wheeler to my own relationship!» Esteban harshly braked in front of the bar. «Y/n, we’re done.» «What?» you gaped, still stunned by the whole conversation. «I don’t want to be with you anymore. Now get out of the car.» Beyond bewildered, you searched for sincerity and honesty in the brown chocolate eyes you had often lost yourself into, stung by hurt as you found them. «Are you seriously breaking up with me for this? I just need to return this hoodie to him!» Esteban’s eyes bore yours outraged, almost incredulous to your words. «Can’t you see the problem? Can’t you notice how you’re chasing after him and are not willing to treat me nearly the same as you treat him? You share clothes with him and you’ve never even asked once for my hoodies!» «Did you want me to?» «That’s not the point, y/n! The fact is it seems like I never cross your mind, whereas Pierre is always in your thoughts. Sorry, but I can’t bear to see you love him more than you love me. I can’t do this anymore.» Gasping for air and for words, you found none: you witnessed helpless as Esteban got out of his seat and reached to your side to open the car door and invite you once again to get out. «Y/n, don’t force me to be drastic. Come on.» «You’re being nonsense! Este, please, you can’t do this!»

Watching your first relationship crumble under the weight of painful lies, you desperately held onto the car door, despite Esteban’s hand trapping your wrist, firm. «Y/n, I told you to get out.» As you pleaded him, whispering “sorry”s like prayers, few tears pricked your eyes, which seemed to sort the opposite effect of what you had hoped for. Esteban, blinded by hurt and rejection, pulled your wrist towards him in an attempt to drag you out the car, and as an unconditional reflex you cried out to him, a tear cutting through your cheek. «Este, please… Please, don’t do this to me!» «You didn’t care about hurting me, why should I care about hurting you?» As he spitted out these words, scornful, he managed to pull you out the car with a jerk, eliciting a chain of heavy tears to reach the ground, which blurred your vision. Esteban was still talking to you, wrist aching to be freed underneath his hold of steel, but your mind refused to make sense of any of the insults directed at you, as much as your eyes couldn’t clearly distinguish his angry face. You had stopped fighting him, though, surrendered to the sad truth he had unveiled despite you trying to cover it up. A truth made of lies. Exposed to your own blade, humiliated and full of regret, you stood still, frozen, incapable to react. And it was then that you saw Esteban’s body being crashed violently onto the chassis of his car with a loud thud. Your wrist was suddenly snatched from the grab, and you swiped some tears to witness clearly the scene unfolding before you. Pierre holding Esteban by the collar. Pierre was shouting onto his face, unleashing his fury, barking his disgust and hatred; and though you and him both expected some sort of reaction from Esteban, you both watched him stay silent at the accusations. «Don’t ever touch her again! Don’t you even try to show up again, understood? Go fuck yourself and stay away from us!» Pierre shouted, putting a protective arm around your neck and bringing you close. But he couldn’t protect you from those brown eyes, which swallowed down the secrets you weren’t ready to share with Pierre. Esteban judged you in the harshest way possible: leaving you to your own conscience. «It’s okay, now. You don’t have to cry anymore.» Pierre wiped your face off, pulling your head to him for his chin to rest upon, rubbing your back with his hand, as you watched Esteban get back in the car and disappear in a cloud of smoke. «He won’t bother us anymore, I promise. You’re safe, with me.» What a paradox: safe in your captor’s arms.

You let yourself be cradled by Pierre’s honey-laced reassurances, trying to digest the shock of the whole situation bit by bit, failing not to feel sorry for having deceived Esteban and yourself. You had believed you loved him; which wasn’t and could never be true. And the awareness weighed on your chest even heavier while being held in Pierre’s arms.

HOT NEWS: Alpine’s driver Pierre Gasly is told to had been seen very intimately close to another woman during a formal gathering with top sponsors of the team. Has the recent marriage with y/n cracked already?

𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝! 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚠����𝚝𝚑 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛.

>> 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐲’𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝙶𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 “𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕”. 𝙻𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕... N𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚓𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝙶𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖’𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚜… 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛; 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕, 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝙸𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚄𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍: 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎’𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙸𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙶𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚢? 𝙸𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎’𝚜.

Paralyzed on the spot, you let the phone gently thud against the kitchen counter. It was nothing you didn’t expect to happen to you; you had lived through it even before whispering with soft eyes “I do” at the altar, when you used to scroll his Instagram picture-perfect shots with his girlfriends, but the timing he had chosen was way off your forecast. The thunderstorm had darkened your sky too early. You hadn’t seen it coming, you hadn’t heard a single roar of the wind in the distance. Nothing. Pierre had given you nothing either to hate or to love. Somehow, a small part of you felt sickly relief in knowing you could finally turn your eternal suspicion into hatred: you wished you could mold it in shape, form sentences to dagger him with, cries to let out your throat with violence. Nothing came. Nothing.

You stood by the counter as you let the bloody red liquid boil into the pan; staring at it, you absentmindedly kept stirring the sauce, not able to do anything else. Your ringtone blasted through the empty kitchen and it pierced your ears unexpected, instilling in your nerves a hit of anxiety which caused your hand to hit the pan; it dropped inevitably off the stove, collapsed to the ground, poured its vermilion content on the luminous tiles. Dodging quickly enough not to have the pan falling on your feet, still hearing your phone ringing, your chest benched inward with a deep, exasperated sob, sharply taking in air to fill your shaky body with. Waves of tears ran down your eyes, arms still half-hanging in the void, as if you waited for someone to pick you up and nail you to a cross, to cease your unsubduable sense of betrayal. It all crushed down on you, eyes closed, stilling liquid sadness, which ricocheted between the walls of the emptiest and loneliest flat in the world. The phone stopped ringing. It seemed to calm you down at first; the silence left you with curiosity to see if the nightmare was over, opening your eyes back to the disastrous sauce on the floor, which was supposed to be ready for dinner. With caution, your trembling fingers grabbed the phone from the marble counter, and you jumped on your feet as it started buzzing and ringing against your skin once again. A name appeared, impressed on your retina. You couldn’t help but suffocate a sob: the grab on the phone tightened together with the clench wrenching your heart, making it as small as a crumble.

>>♥<<

«Charles…» He didn’t hesitate to take in your wandering hands, flinging towards him and holding onto his shirt. Right as he had read the news, he had reached out to you: for he had witnessed you breaking down because of Pierre too many times not to know you would, eventually, need a leaning shoulder. He wore the friend’s armor with the usual embarrassment of being both friend to you and to Pierre; he was used to balancing between two sides, trying not to pick one, working as a bridge to keep you walking in the same direction. Charles always felt helpless before your broken heart: he knew Pierre and how he would’ve never done anything to hurt you, but still, he had, undoubtedly, and there was no defense Charles himself could put up. Especially if he had you weeping and sobbing in his arms, so painfully close to his heart. «I can’t do this anymore, Charles.» «I know, y/n. I know.» He swallowed hard, caressing your hair, searching for comforting words even though he was damn aware there were none. «W-why? Where did I go wrong?» Charles’s heart panged at your words: he immediately took your face in his hands, wiped tears off it with both thumbs and silently hoped to find an answer. The truth is he hadn’t a single one of them. Glancing at you, Charles wished he hadn’t been excited and bubbly about the marriage as he had been; he had nurtured so much joy, watching the relationship timidly sail the month before the wedding. He had pictured you and Pierre being the couple everyone would envy, perhaps even building a family together. He had got enamored with the way your wedding dress fitted you, how the golden ring adorning your hand had lit up your smile and your complexion even more, how every piece seemed to be finally falling into place.

In a few weeks’ time, he had witnessed the cast away of hopes. Charles wanted to tell you Pierre would’ve never done anything like it, he would’ve sworn it, if only facts didn’t force him to question everything he presumed to be sure of. «I know you’ll hate me for it, but…» he tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear, «…we should know exactly what happened before judging him so harshly.» «Charles! Do you think I really want to know the details?» your chin twitched. «I don’t need to know where… how… and since when they started fucking.» Shaking your head while picturing the atrocious scenes in your head, you put a hand on your forehead, face dropping down, incapable of tolerating Charles’ eyes boring into yours with an awful mixture of pity and sorrow. «It disgusts me.» you said, even feeling your stomach upset. Charles watched you spit out hatred as he rubbed a hand on your upper arm, slightly squeezing it in reassurance. He was friend with both of you and wasn’t keen on the idea of losing either, nor choosing where to stand. Somehow, he couldn’t pick a side. «Don’t I deserve better? Don’t I deserve to be loved?» Charles looked at you sternly, almost scolding you for such a question. «No doubts you do.» he said, definitive. «But Pierre knows that too. Before being his wife, you’re his friend.» He placed his firm hands on both your arms, searching for eye contact as he kept addressing you with a gentle tone. «He’s always loved you and respected you, even if it might have been hard to notice.» «He’s never going to love me… He never will.»

You both stood in the hall of Charles’ suite: the silence wrapping the luxury furniture was punctuated by your quiet sobs, your shaking breath, the strenuous beating of your heart. The air was warm; it flushed your cheeks and Charles’ as well. After a more attentive look, his green eyes seemed dull and tired. The night was already projecting its dark shadow onto the sky, and it was the sign which put your soul into a state of guilt: right after Charles had called you, you had run to him without a single worry of disturbing him. You had left a mess in the kitchen. You hadn’t prepared the dinner Pierre had asked you for, like the perfect lovely wife you had been up until that moment would request you to. As much as you could try to hate him, a solid and unbreakable part of you held onto the hopeless love of him, never ending source of suffering, yet inevitable. At the thought of your condemnation, you sobbed and cried a little louder, pulling Charles’s shirt near you, defeated, exhausted, distraught.

>>♥<<

The quiet sound of clinking metal timidly reached you and awoke you; you stirred, onto the couch, feeling a bit sore from sleeping all night in the same position, cranked. The sun filtered through the curtains, lighting your cheek right as you got seated. The room seemed to wheel ‘round you, on and on: thoughts started racing the new circuit of your mind, lap after lap, causing you to shut your eyes and block the incessant flow which was making you dizzy. Putting memories in order, you recalled the events. You had spent the night at Charles’ place: he had offered you to sleep in his bed, but you had decided not to profit of his generosity. In the quiet darkness of the suite, you had thrown your phone on the carpet, nestling against the squared pillow, shying away any thought concerning Pierre. But you had failed and wondered, haunted, if he might have been searched for you. After all, you weren’t home, when he clearly expected you to be there. He might have noticed. Or maybe not. Perhaps he had been taken care of by that daddy’s girl; maybe he had left you a text saying he wasn’t coming home either, leaving you wasted and rotten together with your nicely cooked dinner. If only there was a dinner to see rotting ; the red liquid crusting on the kitchen tiles printed on your mind like a crime scene you wanted to forget. The idea of your house being empty crashed your insides and twisted them in helpless disappointment. Still sitting, you eyed the phone, lying backwards on the floor, turned off since last night. What was the point of switching it back only to be flooded with more rumors you would never be ready to face?

You then finally stood up in the middle of the living area, looking around you like a stranger, and followed the noise coming from the small kitchen. There you found Charles, jogging around the counters, attempting to cook. You checked the time on the clock hung up on the wall: Monday, 1:12 p.m. «Oh, finally! Good morning!» Charles chirped, interrupting the trance status you had swamped into. «Good morning. Are you cooking lunch?» you asked, getting closer to the stove. «Yep! Some pasta with pesto for lunch!» You gulped at the mention of food. «I just woke up, Charles… I don’t know if I want to eat so much for breakfast.» «I’m sure you’re going to be hungry as soon as you see my delicious plate.» he chuckled, right before quickly removing the lid to the pan which was about to overflow in white bubbles. Done with stirring up the water, he turned towards you, who were already seated at the table, and leaned his palms onto the marble behind him. «How do you feel?» he asked. You rubbed your temple. «Tired.» Charles sighed. «You should’ve slept in my bed and let me take the couch as I-» «I’m not tired physically, Cha’. I slept quite good.» He nodded to himself in silence, looking down. «I see.» You drowned in the white noise of the pan boiling and the kitchen fan filling the otherwise dead silence, mentally visualizing the blurry picture you had been shocked by. The dizziness grew stronger and a large, deep pit in your stomach opened like a black hole swallowing your feelings. «I’ll talk to him about it as soon as I see him.» You heard Charles’ voice, but didn’t listen, as the cooking water roaring against the steel was the sound you had tuned into, and it grew louder and louder, almost unbearable to your focused hearing. With a quick glance, you saw the white foam resurfacing behind Charle’s silhouette. «Charles, the pan!» you urged. «Oh, fuck!»

>>♥<<

You stared at the plate, keeping it at a distance ahead of you with your fingertips, listening to Charles’ chewing, which never seemed that loud. The chewing stopped, together with his fork clinking against the ceramic, and you felt his eyes fixed upon you. «You need to eat something, y/n.» «Sorry, Charles, I have a messed-up stomach… After all the things I read…» «I know, but please, just have a few bites.» Charles gently pushed the plate back near you. «I can’t see you like this.» It was meant to be an unheard thought, just above a whisper, but the kitchen was so silent you could listen to his breathing. The shining fork on the tablecloth, a small piece of penne pierced; half a bite. Eyes closed, and Pierre was still there. Maybe he hadn’t even texted you: he hadn’t wondered about you at all, but left without warning, completely indifferent to your absence. The invisible wall built brick after brick in the last two weeks suddenly turned gray and heavy, painfully present. Pierre would never love you. The fork crashed against the plate, hand covering your mouth; Charles raised his eyes and stopped his every movement to observe you once again. He saw you hesitantly get up from the chair, quite unsure about what was going on, until the air punched your stomach and caused it to fling upwards, together with all its content. With no time to reach the bathroom, panic building in your chest, you abruptly turned towards the sink behind you, fingers unable to stop the wave climbing up your throat.

Charles got up, as you intended hearing his chair screeching. Not quite sure about what was happening, he first let his arms raise up a bit only to be lowered back down, helpless, indecisive, confused; then he got near you, pulling your hair out of the way, trying not to feel grossed out by the scene. «’m sorry…» you mumbled, breathing through your nausea, hoping the worst had passed. «Are you okay?» he rushed. You shook your head in denial. «Y/n, what’s up?» Your marriage was in shambles after a couple of weeks only and an insufferable urge of hiding from the entire world pulsed like a drill in your head. «I don’t know, but I’ve kind of been feeling sick the last couple of days.» «Are you ill?» Charles sighed, sorry. To think he was lying in somebody’s arms, cuddling in someone else’s warm touch, careless enough to forget about your existence and your feelings, your ego so easily, paired up with the sudden shock and horror of throwing up in front of Charles, put you in the worst state of anxiety and despair. Then, the realization. A sly thought, slithering tantalizingly amidst your scattered mind. What if…? You gripped the counter so hard your knuckles turned pale, washed out, eyes wide opened and bewildered, in fright and disbelief. Your heart ran wild, as your thoughts did, while a sigh of hysteria and awareness triggered your cry.

Charles, who had opened the tap in the meantime and had handed you a piece of paper towel to clean yourself up, slowly put down his hand and frowned, disturbed by how exasperated you sounded. «Please, please, it cannot be… It can’t be true.» you chanted low and quick, but slow and high enough in tone for Charles to understand your words. «What can’t be?» Charles asked, searching for your attention and your eyes through your erratic movements: you rinsed your mouth with water, closed the tap and swiftly dried your face with the piece of paper he was still holding. You stared at him intensely, as much as he did: he immediately read the fear overwhelming you, but still failed to see the reason, which you hoped to be able to communicate without giving it form with words. A couple of seconds were shared in that exchange of terrified glances; and before he was able to say anything else, Charles looked at you pacing quickly to the couch, raising all the pillows in search of something. «Where’s my purse?» you asked, frenzy. «I- I don’t know!» «Did you see my wallet at least?!» You picked up your phone from the ground and pressed in hurry the switching on button, cursing as it took an insufferable amount of time to turn on. Charles stepped right behind you, glancing left and right, pondering your request quickly. «What do you need money for?» Charles shouted, set in panic by your erratic behaviour. With a swift turn, you stared at him once more, eaten alive by anxiety. «A pregnancy test.» You could hear his soundless breath of surprise as he left his mouth ajar, as well as his brain’s gears in motion, getting a grip of the situation. «You… You two…» You gave Charles a regretful and desperate stare, pleading him with your eyes not to judge you harshly for falling into Pierre’s trap, chin twitching, tears pricking your eyes. «It was our wedding night. I just… I just wanted to be happy.»

You broke down in tears before you could end the sentence, covering the face and the shame it displayed with your hands. Charles froze, trying to clear his mind and think of the next step he should take; your cries, though, only distracted him from doing so. «Y/n, hey, come here.» He carefully engulfed you in a hug, shushing you, in an attempt to calm you down. «I’m going to buy a test now, okay? Stay here, sit on the couch and relax. I’ll come back in a second.» The lightweight kiss he pressed onto your head as you plopped down onto the sofa, spent, felt distant and muffled, as much as the door closing shut behind his hurried figure. You stared into the void, replaying the night of the forbidden love over and over again, in search of any possible mistake you two made, to no avail: you had been so enchanted by Pierre and buzzed in bliss that the rerun became fader and fader, the memory even more distant, as if it were a mere fruit of imagination, as if you and Pierre had never been happy together. Before you could realize it, Charles was already flinging the door back open, pouring the content of the whitish plastic bag onto the table, unwrapping the test and placing it in your hand, closing your fingers shut around it.

«Okay, so… It says to hold the stick downwards, so maybe it’s better if we use a cup or something.» Charles opened a cabinet of the bathroom and took out a plastic cup, which he handed to you. «"If testing early, use first urine of the day"��� Well, that’s perfect, because you’ve just woken up! “Don’t drink lots of liquid”, done as well… I think we’re good to go.» Sniffing, you stared at Charles, in wait. «W-why are you looking at me like that?» he nervously chuckled. «I need to pee.» «Right!» He immediately rushed out of the bathroom, pressing his lips together in embarrassment.

He leaned against the door, impatiently waiting for you to signal to him to enter back again, which you didn’t. After a couple of minutes, Charles knocked, not able to bear any more silence. «Y/n? Can I come in now?» No answer. Charles put his ear against the varnished wood, trying to capture any sound, knocking once again. He got startled by a sudden yelp echoing from inside the bathroom. «Y/n?» Charles was about to put his hand on the knob, when he heard the lock being sealed under his helplessly slow fingers, which vainly tested the knob in a rush, too late. «Y/n? Please, open the door!» As if it weren’t enough, his phone started ringing and buzzing in his pocket: moving a couple of steps away from the door with a loud sigh, he was struck by the caller. «Pierre?» His name pierced your ears like the tick of a bomb: the pregnancy test in your trembling fingers, you bore your stare into the bright lines signalling the positivity of it. A child. Pierre had just cheated on you and, of all the moments, the pregnancy news had sprung at the most inconvenient time. «Have you heard from y/n? Do you know where she is? I’ve been trying to reach out to her, but she doesn’t answer.» «Yes, she is…» Charles swallowed hard and glanced at the wooden door, still perfectly closed and sealed. «She’s here with me, at my place.» «Oh, thank God. How is she?» «What?» Charles almost choked at Pierre’s enquiry. The thought of your benching figure throwing up in his sink was still vivid and his shirt was somehow slightly damp and stretched. Pierre sighed. «She trusted the news, I suppose…» Charles’ end fell silent for seconds, in which he stared at the door opening and showing your silhouette marked with tears, emotionless, holding the pregnancy test upwards so that he saw the result right as you stepped close to him. «I’m coming over. Don’t let her go, okay? See you soon.» Pierre concluded, impatient. «Bye.» You both stood in silence, thoughts taking over the room. «How can I raise a baby without a father?» The sudden question melted Charles’ heart. «Y/n, it’s going to have a father: Pierre would never leave you alone, even if you two weren’t married and the child weren’t his.» «But I don’t need him as an uncle, I need him as a father and a husband who’s present and loves us both!» To that, Charles couldn’t answer anything: he couldn’t swear Pierre’s love for you, it wasn’t in his power, though he would’ve liked to reassure you in any way possible. He hugged you for the umpteenth time, cradling your never-ending weeping self, mentally uncovering the weight of tragedy: not only you might be hurt by Pierre refusing your affection, but preferring someone else’s physical, carnal company. Discarded, thrown away like a valueless thing, having to face one of the biggest challenges of a woman’s life without the certainty of support from the man you loved.

Charles noticed a swelling point near his heart, tormented by the whole situation, which soon turned into utter panic as you twisted abruptly into his arms, startled by a loud knocking on the door. «Who’s that?» you asked, holding the pregnancy test to your chest and looking around, trembling and confused. Some other knocks thundering through the suite. «Charles! Open the door!» You daggered your eyes to the Monegasque, torn between utter terror and betrayal: why had he made him come over when he was supposed to keep you safe from the whole world, especially from Pierre’s cruelty? Charles stared at you, motionless, waiting for you to make the first move and implicitly give him the consent to unlock the door. «He cannot know.» you stated, attempting to sound firm, and failing to conceal panic. «But-» «You owe me this, for allowing him to come here in the first place. Don’t you dare to say a word about it.» Charles shook his head, eyes full of disapproval yet showing pity; then, without adding any other word, he watched you fiddle with the pregnancy test to hide it beneath your shirt and approached the door to let Pierre in. «Where is she?» Pierre urged, hurried. Your sitting silhouette towered on the couch right in front of him: your profile contrasted the long curtains of the living room and the pale, greyish tones of the weather outside casted on your skin a livid, gloomy shadow. He knelt down before you, trying to get your eyes to look at his, but he was met with the deadliest still stare he had ever seen: your glossy irises worked as a push for his hand to reach and stroke your cheek, but you shied away his touch. «Can you leave us alone for a few minutes, Charles?» The Monegasque mumbled a “Sure” under his breath, drained by the whole situation.

Pierre never stopped observing you with attention, which cost you a lot of effort into not locking gaze with him; and when you finally did, a clench of rage shut your jaw, annoyed by his behaviour. «Aren’t you tired?» «Tired of what?» you spitted out. «Of consuming yourself after a false accusation.» You reluctantly strayed away your eyes from him once again, unluckily charmed by his proximity. «But you’re not consumed, right? You expected it from me, you were waiting for me to make a mistake, weren’t you?» he sarcastically added. «You swore you would love me and trust me until the end of your life, but you didn’t hesitate to buy into whatever lie someone spread to ruin my reputation once again!» «Your reputation! Always your fucking reputation first! And what about mine? Don’t you care about how people will think of me from now on?» «I’m not saying I don’t care, I want to point out the fact that some bastard sold the news on purpose to damage me!» «I don’t give a shit about who did that, you cheated on me!» «I DID NOT! For fuck’s sake, this is what I’m trying to tell you! Someone took an out-of-context picture at a dinner where photographers weren’t allowed to try to ruin me and our relationship as well! Are you so stupid to fall for it too?»

At this point, you were crying without containing anymore; after the heated altercation, you stopped and felt your chest sting with hurt pride and feelings. «I’m stupid for having fallen in love with you since the day I met you.» Your words seemed to stun Pierre: his lips had parted in surprise at your confession, as much as his eyelids had uncovered completely the majestic blue eyes now bored into yours. The silence which followed your unwanted declaration made you curl into a ball, sobbing loudly to yourself. As soon as you felt a pair of arms embracing you, you fought back to avoid them with little whines and cries, only to be defeated by its comforting warmth: you let Pierre seal your bubble of despair, like a shield. «I’ll prove to you I did nothing, y/n, I promise. Nobody should’ve dared to write about us the way they did.» What Pierre reckoned to be soothing words weren’t reassuring to your ears at all: the missed reaction to your hopeless love for him fuelled your fears concerning the buried, but growing life in your womb. How could a child live without love? How could you? A sudden wave of nausea made you break the embrace Pierre had engulfed you in, bringing a hand over your mouth yet another time, eyes shut. «Don’t you feel good? What’s wrong?» he unconsciously put his hand on your thigh, affectionately squeezing it, as he asked. «I cooked some pasta and it tasted awful. My fault.» You quickly glanced at Charles, who had rejoined the room, getting near the couch. His stare on you was stern and tender at the same time, communicating both his blame and his will to help you cover up the pregnancy, for the moment, at least. «You’ll never learn how to cook, right?» Pierre snorted. «Probably not.» Charles huffed a smile, happy to have brightened the mood of the room a tiny bit. «I’m a bit hungry, though. Got anything in the pantries?» Pierre asked. «I’ll go check!»

While Charles walked away and left you alone once more, you sniffed and dried your cheeks, gazing down, looking away from Pierre’s burning and suddenly careful stare. «I called you a thousand times yesterday.» he spoke low, as not to be heard. You shook your head, smally. «I think you know why my phone was switched off.» «I came back home and I saw the mess in the kitchen.» he ignored your words. «What? Were you disappointed about not having dinner served?» Pierre pressed his lips together, holding back the quick answer rolling off his tongue. And then he decided to let it out. «I was worried about you.» No, he wasn’t, you told yourself. He’s trying to fool me. Still, the heartfelt tone he used to deliver the sentence rose a commotion deep in your soul: the gentle chords of golden love vibrating for him only were put in restless motion at the sound of the confession. It was just so small, but your entire feelings could feast with it for months, for years, after bearing starvation for as long. «I’ve already talked with my lawyer to sue the journalists and the source of the rumour for defamation.» he caressed your cheek, slowly, as not to startle you with the touch. «I won’t let anyone come between us. Soon it’ll be again just you and me, only us.»

As much as you would’ve liked to trust his whispered words, soft as you had never heard him talk ever before, your choked lie laid untold and yet high like a wall in the room. Pierre leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, fingers still lingering over your face. Flushing your eyelids down, you recalled the same tenderness being offered to you on other occasions, too short to your liking, too faintly impressed in the memory’s film, too brutally in contrast with the bittersweet tumult raging inside of you. «I need you by my side.» Maybe you had imagined it, as it left Pierre’s lips lighter than a whisper; or, maybe, it was the first time you had witnessed some kind of fragility and sweetness in him, just so that you could fall for him even deeper and harder.

The following days, the tension you anticipated to lay between you and Pierre was replaced by a layer of anguish and plainness, wrapping you like a wet, cold cover: the pregnancy test you had hidden carefully haunted your thoughts throughout the day, making you insensitive to Pierre’s attempts at building back again a sense of familiarity, and kept you awake at night, gripping the sheets tight, shaking away the loneliness of the present and of the future.

You knew you didn’t have much time before being forced to tell Pierre: but you had never been as scared to lose him as you were, walking side by side into the paddock, sitting on a stool in the garage, avoiding your husband’s stare while he kissed your cheek, gentle. The weight of your mind drew your gaze down, to the floor. «It’s so cold in here, isn’t it?» You peeked upward at Esteban entering the garage, rubbing his arms as to shake them up from coldness; to be fair, Texas’ air was far from cold, and you struggled interpreting his sardonic smile. Pierre turned around to throw an annoyed look at him, as he gathered the upper part of the suit higher to zip it up. Having gained both of your attention, Esteban fixed his eyes on you, in mischief. «It’s so sad to see a couple being so distant and cold to each other…» You frowned, surprised by the unusual tone of his voice and the sparkle of malice shimmering on his features. Esteban tilted his head, still looking at you, his expression now turning to an unbearable shade of pity, masked by a sinister grin. «Poor y/n… I had told you Pierre would mess up.» «It’s none of your business, you don’t know a fuck!» Pierre shouted, crossing the garage to face him directly. «And stop addressing her like you’ve known her forever.» he added in a lower tone, threatening. Esteban glanced at you back again, letting out an amused scoff. «Didn’t you ever tell him?» «Stop talking to her! Take it out on me and leave her out of this!» The increasing tone of Pierre’s voice, as well as Esteban’s cornering words, made you stand up from the seat and left your mouth dry like the desert, no chance to reply. «Pierre, she can decide on her own if she wants to talk with me or not, you don’t control her. Is he always acting like that with people getting close to you?» Pierre, of course, anticipated your reactionless self. «No, only with dickheads like you! Fuck yourself and don’t get near to her!» «Isn’t it a bit pretentious for someone who cheated on his wife?» The sentence sorted the effect Esteban clearly was expecting: Pierre’s fingers gripped his suit tight, pushing him a few steps backwards due to the threatening force he used. «IT WAS YOU! You made the picture, you were there!» «Pierre, please…» your voice, shaky and feeble, made Esteban laugh. «Stop fucking laughing! Who gave you the right to ruin both our lives?!» «Oh, trust me, Pierre, if I wanted to ruin her, I had a far more interesting story… Which I think you should hear.» With one, fierce shrug, he got rid of Pierre’s tight grab, pointing his eyes back at you. «I was her boyfriend, back in high school, when you used to hang all out together with Charles.» You stood lifeless, dreading the moment Pierre would turn to give you a disappointed or maybe even mad look; but he didn’t. Esteban kept going. «You’ve always had her on your tail, but you never noticed she was in love with you… I’ve never seen anyone more pathetic.» he let out a snort. «She had so little self-respect to let me take her virginity away in a club’s bathroom… She used me like a fuck-toy and then discarded me. This is the girl you married.»

The whole garage fell silent, since nobody dared to interrupt the helpless flow of words. An involuntary yell escaped your lips as Pierre ferociously crashed Esteban’s back onto the back wall, finally getting a reaction from the mechanics and engineers, trying to get in between the two to separate them. Pierre was screaming in French, at the top of his lungs, defending you – unbeknownst to you; Esteban simply stood without reacting much, as he had done years earlier at the same physical attack he had experienced, but this time his revenge was consumed. He knew he had won after hearing Pierre shouting it was over; seeing him approaching you with big strides and hugging you, leaving the box without uttering any other word. Reading your expression on the verge of crying, a sick pleasure overtook him. He had won the war.

«Cheers, les gars!» «Cheers!» Amongst the choir of glasses jingling, toasting in delight, you raised yours without being able to reach everyone’s cup, then obliged to set your eyes on the non-alcoholic beverage you had ordered. You had received numerous side-eyed glances and mocking exclamations for even daring to ask for a banal juice on the celebration night of Pierre’s new contract with Aston Martin, which came after the unexpected departure of Lance. «Someone will have to drive us home tonight, and I don’t think Pierre is going to spare himself…» you half-joked, as an excuse. Everyone bought it with a loud chuckle, except for Charles, who didn’t miss any of your movements, bearing the incommensurable weight of truth on his chest.

He had been texting you quite a lot in the last few days: you had informed him of the explosive moments lived inside Alpine’s garage, ultimately leading to Pierre signing with Aston for next year; he had asked you, in turn, how things were now going with Pierre, if you trusted his version of the story. A few nights earlier, while reading Charles’ texts, you had looked down at Pierre, who was peacefully heaving against your chest. You couldn’t tell whether he had fallen asleep to the soothing head scratches you had been giving him since you had snuggled on the bed, as silence and quietness lingered in the air. “Did you tell him?” Pierre’s arm encircled your waist, radiating warmth all throughout your core: it served as another subtle reminder of the news yet to be shared. Though, you had never felt more terrified: it was the first time in years that you perceived Pierre��s affection being that close. Announcing the pregnancy might have taken away the precious blossom of his love, which you now couldn’t live without. Charles knew your fear, he could read it well between the lines, and he hoped you would soon rely on Pierre to get the support you’d need.

Drinking plain juice didn’t prevent you from joining friends on the dance floor, gripping handfuls of hair and shaking it to the thick, hot air of the club. Standing still at the edge of the crowd, sipping on a cocktail with eyes fixed on the group – on you, mainly – Charles and Pierre talked, undisturbed. «What are you looking at?» the Monegasque asked with a smirk. Pierre didn’t answer, he didn’t stray his irises from your dancing silhouette, drowning and resurfacing in the crowd. «She’s beautiful.» «As if you haven’t been telling me this for the past ten years, Pierre.» Charles chuckled, taking a sip from his own drink. «It’s different, now.» «How so?» Pierre hesitated before answering, gathering the right words to express his muted feelings. «Last Monday, when I came back home and I couldn’t find her, I freaked out as I’ve never done before. I called her twenty-five times, left a fucking voicemail – who does that anymore? I just didn’t know what to do, I was panicking. I slept on the couch thinking she’d wake me up after coming back at night.» «I should’ve warned you she was with me, sorry.» Pierre lightly shook his head. «No, I think I deserved that, for all the times I treated her bad.» After a small pause, Charles, frowning, prompted another question. «So what’s changed?» «I… I’m falling in love with her.» he breathed out in realization, enchanted by your vision, watching you move like a fairy amongst the large group of his friends enjoying the blasting music. Charles couldn’t stop himself from snorting and laughing. «What?» «That’s a lie.» Pierre looked at him puzzled; Charles took another sip, smiling in delight and amusement. «You’ve always loved her; but you didn’t know what love was yet.» «Said the philosopher!» Their laughter was so bright and loud that you turned your head towards the two of them patting each other friendly. Pierre’s features were painted in deep, rich warm tones, under the dim lights of the club; the sudden need to refuge in his arms and rest your lips on his draw your eyes to him like an undefeatable magnet, whose force he seemed to feel as well. «I think I know now.» Pierre said, gaze turned back again on you.

>>♥<<

Exiting the bathroom, you saw Charles waiting right near the door frame, arms crossed, distressed expression, wetting his dry lips as soon as you got near him. «Is it all good?» he asked. «Jeez, Charles! Can’t I just go to the bathroom now?» «You ran away at the speed of light! Pierre was confused and I had to stop him from following you.» Sighing, you quickly rubbed your temples. «Listen… I don’t like lying to Pierre. You need to tell him, y/n, he has to know.» His pleading voice twisted your stomach in a pang of regret and fear. «I want to see a doctor first… And I need to come back home for that.» «Why don’t you try with a clinic here?» You darted your eyes at Charles, half in disbelief, half surprised at the idea. «I can help you find one, I’ve got some contacts. Plus, I think you should check as soon as possible if everything’s okay with…» «With me, yes.» you breathed out, feeling Pierre’s heavy stare on you both. Before you knew it, he was making his way amidst the crowd with a frown, seeing you and Charles confabulate away from indiscreet ears. «He’s coming.» you whispered. Charles, visibly frustrated and failing to hide it, huffed and waited for the storm to run over both of you. And it came. Pierre’s body was burning a few centimeters away from you, igniting shame and terror, knowing you were putting the newfound trust on the line, like a fool. But it isn’t your fault, a part of you said. «Why did you stop? I want to hear about the State affair too.» Not willing to test Charles’ trust for the umpteenth time, you jumped in before he could add anything to his deadly stare directed towards Pierre. «I was telling him I’m tired and I’d like to go home, but he thinks we should stay here a bit more since we’re celebrating you.» A soft caress of his palm was enough to melt the hurried tension entangling your muscles, sure he had bought into the lie after seeing a veil of fondness cover his blue eyes. «Oh, don’t worry, I was thinking of calling it a day too. We can always party more than once, after all.»

>>♥<<

The shirts had slipped away swiftly in a matter of seconds, as your shivering skin warned your senses. You kissed in passion, somehow already accustomed to each other’s pace, yet so new and undiscovered beneath the physical layer of quickened breaths, intense heartbeats and roaming hands. Pierre dragged your head up with his long lasting, tantalizing kiss, trapping both your wrists with a smirk which spread further blush on your cheeks. «So that piece of douchebag was your first time?» He didn’t seem to wait for an answer, as he leaned down to your neck, tasting your skin open-mouthed. You simply moaned, incapable of uttering a word. It was the first time he enquired you about the awful talk you had had in the garage with Esteban and, noticing the unexpected silence on the topic for days, you had simply guessed he would never tackle it again. Still, getting drunk had probably loosen him up more than he would ever admit. «Pierre…» «What? I’m just curious.» «I don’t want to be reminded of that day.» you whined, already out of breath. Mischief gleamed in Pierre’s blue irises, pupils enlarged to take in as much of you as they could. You were able to interpret his intentions a few seconds after his stare: he buried his face behind your earlobe, teasing your skin with his teeth, just enough to gather a shot of blood cursing pleasure and electricity with its flow right where he was leaving kisses. «Is it because you don’t feel… proud of yourself?» he murmured against your neck. Guilt tangled in the middle of your chest, words and acts painfully reminding you of the infamous night. Only after years, you could realize how despicable and poor your choice had been; though, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame it. After all, it had led you to embracing Pierre as close as you would’ve never even imagined in your wildest fantasies. «Is it because you think you acted selfishly?» A sweet yet poisonous bite was left just above your collarbone, another soft breath escaping your control. «Because you hurt people around you?» Now Pierre looked hungrily at you, halting just a few centimeters from your parted lips, letting your focus drift towards his quick hands unbuttoning your jeans, as if they didn’t know any better. The stormy meaning hidden behind those words seemed senseless to you, impossible: and still his irises showed turmoil… Hurt. You were almost about to mouth a question, something along the lines of “What do you mean?”, maybe you even did; but you couldn’t tell, because Pierre thrusted his body upon yours all of a sudden, diluting your thoughts in a stain of useless reasoning, moans and whimpers the only incoherent reactions. «Is it because… you wished you were with someone else?» The floodgate of your heart crushed open: it rocked your body in such an intense wave that you had to hold onto Pierre, gripping his shoulders tight, while he kissed down on your neck once again, lavishly, anywhere he could print his love on you.

Overwhelm of senses almost ended up in a gracious state of numbness, in which Pierre seemed to be the only actor: he handled you with ease and carefulness, though intoxicated by the physical contact, and before you had realized, the night was consumed, the abatjour casting a gentle warm shade on your bare, entangled bodies. Drunk in love, you chuckled in silence, warmed by Pierre’s touch. «What’s that?» he asked. «I… When I’m with you, I feel both anxious and so happy I could die.» «Why is it funny?» «Because it’s childish. I’m still crushing on you like a kid, I only know extremes.» He hummed, pausing for a few seconds. «Why do I make you nervous?» he then enquired, again. «Because I’m scared to lose you.» It sounded so fragile that Pierre involuntarily tightened his arms around you, drawing you nearer. And deep in thought, he stared at the void. «I think I know how you feel.» «What?» you turned your head around to look at him, as if you hadn’t paid attention to his words. «I’ve felt this way too, since… forever.»

>>♥<<

The faint sound of fingers typing filled the kitchen, otherwise silent. You had woken up early, after rolling in the sheets for hours, not sleeping much; you had had a little bit of breakfast – as much as your upset stomach would allow you to – while you scrolled the online page of one of the clinics Charles had suggested you, searching for a cell phone number. You stopped, engraving the digits in your mind. If you had dialed, a spiral of appointments’ calls, check-ups and exams would follow, and you wouldn’t have been able to stop it from tumbling and assaulting you. Pierre would know soon. The mere thought scared you to death. As you saw Pierre's ruffled hair and creased eyes peeked out inside the kitchen area only to direct the slow and unsteady steps towards the bathroom, you bolted as fast as a lighting. «No, the bathroom is mine!» You stomped the door in front of his face, preventing him from stealing the precious space and time to clean yourself.

Pierre quickly eyed the laptop on the marble counter, figuring out you must've been up for quite a while; a stained mug and tiny crumbles were other signals of your silent presence, lingering around his numbed senses through the waking. He had missed the warmth of your body, the securing hold of his arms around your waist, the sweet scent cursing through him while resting his head close to yours, near enough to perceive the undeniable pull drawing him like a magnet. «You're lucky I love you!» he yelled, in order for you to drink in his amused tone. You wished you didn't. That only sentence made your guts twist and horribly enhanced the dizziness, obliging you to grip the sink tight. You had waited so many years for those words to have a meaning and now you might have it. Still, you found yourself to dread them. You were about to ruin everything.

He had not intended to; he had tried, vainly, to stop himself from looking at the screen of your laptop, but the gaze dropped involuntarily, fast, the quickest glance, while placing the mug on the counter. And the first words he read only invited him to linger on the page further. A clinic. A phone number written in bold cyphers. «Y/n?» Resurfacing from the trance status you had fallen into while lazily brushing your teeth, you answered with a whine. «Can you come here for a sec?» You deeply inhaled in annoyance, sure it was either to pull a prank on you or to get some help with the absurdly expensive coffee machine Pierre had asked for in the suite - and didn't quite know how to use yet. The puzzled look on his face told you right away all you needed, as much as his fingers brushing the laptop’s pointer pad. «Why were you searching-» «Why are you going through my stuff!?» You flung yourself onto the pc, pulling it away from his touch and his sight, hoping that could be enough to erase the content from his thoughts. As you imagined, it didn't. «What's that for? You left it spread open, how was I supposed not to see it?» Pierre followed your gushing figure placing the laptop back in the bedroom, closing the door after you two. «Can you please stop a second and explain to me what's going on?» Your body seemed to slip under Pierre's touch, then ultimately gave in, anxiety paralyzing all movements but trembling. Immediately noticing your distress, he stroked your hair in reassurance, trying to calm himself down as well through the action. «Y/n, I'm not asking again. What's the clinic for?» You avoided his stare as much as answering. «Did something happen? I need to know, y/n.» he wetted his lips, visibly frustrated. «It isn't just you, now. It's both of us. We're in this together.» After minutes spent crafting the most realistic lie, painfully witnessing Pierre being tender and caring only to be fooled by you, you were finally ready to utter a word. «I had booked a routine appointment with a gynecologist before I knew about the trip, but we aren't getting home soon, and I didn't want to miss it.» Pierre's forehead distended like a folded sheet laid spread and fresh onto the mattress, irises still concealing a hint of doubt. «Why didn't you tell me?» «I thought it'd be embarrassing… for both.» «It isn't to me.» he said, softly. «And you can talk to me about anything, you know that.» You rested your cheek upon his palm, enjoying the caress with eyes closed, quietly accepting the lie still holding up the invisible wall of miscommunication you purposely built. «Especially when the topic is dear to me.» Pierre's smug tone lifted a stone from your shoulders, as well as dropping it in your chest, heart swimming in a lake of mixed emotions. You would’ve liked to cast a spell and stop the flow of time, because bittersweet guilt and happiness were the telltale signs a fairytale was possible, after all, almost within reach. And you had ruined it.

>>♥<<

A thought had been flying around his mind all day: jogging lightly before free practice, revising the track with his performance engineer, laughing and joking around with other drivers ahead of media duties. It hadn't bothered him, it hadn't shown; not even when he came back to the hotel and didn't find you there as he expected. It slipped from his consciousness even while drifting into sleep, your scent dazzling and lulling him. It harboured beneath the surface, though, and its stealth presence made itself evident - yet misunderstood - on Saturday morning. «Where's my shirt?» Pierre asked abruptly, entering the bedroom in a hurry. Despite him trying to get you to get up multiple times as he got ready, you were still lying in bed, sick to the core, unwilling to admit it, exhausted already by the day. «Y/n, c'mon, we need to go!» Pierre huffed, poorly concealing the annoyance. You whined, weakly raising the duvet in order to get seated. Before Pierre could snort again and feel even more dissatisfied with the sudden lack of energy you showed, he hesitated on your dark eyebags, on the slow movement you dragged your limbs with, on the aura of fatigue encircling you. He stepped closer, taking your arms and lifting you up, guiding you to the kitchen steadily, but still rather quickly. As you took a seat, he placed before you an amount of food – for breakfast – which you would've always considered sufficient and that now seemed exaggerated. «If you're not hungry, drink at least. You need to keep hydrated.» Pierre's demanding voice partially saved you from the impasse of refusing food, so you obligingly sipped the cup of coffee he had pushed towards you without adding a word.

From that moment onwards, Pierre eyed you with a carefulness unknown before. He only realized now how sluggish and overall low-key you had been behaving: though, the restless rhythm of flights, hotel check-ins, suits packing and racing sessions were draining enough to present themselves as valid reasons for your lack of verve. Taking your purse underarm in a hurry, you crossed eyes with Pierre’s. «I’m ready, let’s go.» Dumbfounded by his sudden aplomb, you stood in silence, hair barely brushed, shirt carelessly half untucked in your jeans; you didn’t stray your stare from Pierre’s while he slowly took your hands in his, a strange thoughtfulness guiding the movement. The silence said more than you two were capable of. It seemed to be thrown back in time to those longing, perusing stares you studied each other with, always analyzing expressions and reactions, never sure of getting it right yet desperately needy of the other. You both swam comfortably in that tacit conversation, exchanging fears, doubts, loving care; but Pierre knew it was time to go – it had been for a while, already – and couldn’t restrain himself from clearing his throat. «Yep, I told you. Let’s go.» you whispered.

>>♥<<

It had been Charles' idea, to have a brunch all together inside the paddock: he had found a small sort of restaurant, right in front of Pirelli's backdoor, unfrequented by VIPs and paparazzi. If you didn't know Charles well enough, you would've guessed he simply wanted to check on you; but him craving some good old company and wanting to shy away from the crowd of the track was the most likely scenario. Hanging out together, the three of you, felt like a fever dream, every single time: the memories would merge, the jokes and the laughs would crack on their own with such a flow and an ease unexplainable to anybody else. Sitting next to the most important people of your life was a luck you would never take for granted. «…should buy one. What do you think?» «I think that’s awesome, really.» You became self-conscious of the wedding ring pressing Pierre’s name onto your skin as an endless kiss, recalling the ebbing moments of the day you became one. «Y/n?» Again. The wave knocking at the pit of your stomach, the sudden harmony of smells emanated by your dishes was quick to stir your quiescent sickness. «Y/n? Did you hear the question?» Charles’ voice obliged you to answer. «Uh? Yeah, yes, I did.» you composed yourself as quickly as you could. «I think it’s a beautiful opportunity for you.» «We’ll help you, if we can do anything for it. Like, if you need taste testers, we’re more than happy!» Pierre chuckled. You forced a smile too, in order not to contrast your husband’s bright expression. However, it all spiraled when a pile of used tires – the F3 free practice had finished less than a half an hour earlier, you reasoned – was dragged in a small interstice near Pirelli's building, leaving an unbearable smell of burned rubber. You felt yet again nauseous, making it blatantly obvious clasping your mouth and nose, focusing on your breathing, eyes closed. Pierre and Charles' stares laid on you in a single motion, both catching on what was happening (with different awareness, clearly). Pierre couldn't let the memory of your missed breakfast fade into nothing, and his racing mind quickly figured you must be ill; he trapped your free hand in a grab which you immediately complied, he got up and kneeled next to you, seeing you didn't give any signs of the clench in your stomach loosening.

In the meantime, Charles quietly and politely asked you if you needed a glass of water, if you'd want to go to the restroom, to which your silence only fueled his helplessness and sly embarrassment. «I'm okay, guys.» you breathed out, finally removing your fingers from your lips, but still too scared to open your eyelids and be attacked by their sharp stares. «No, you're not, y/n. You've been sick for at least a week.» Pierre's statement worked as a tymbal clang to both you and Charles, so that you looked at each other briefly but intensely, wondering whether the ticking bomb laying untold amongst you three had just exploded without you noticing. “Tell him” was painted in capital letters, bold, inside Charles' green irises.

Internalizing the truth impossible to fool, you let Pierre's fingertips gently move your chin towards him, since you had enchanted in reflection on Charles. Suddenly confronting your husband's – yes, because he was your husband – unexplainable beauty like it was the first time you really saw him, the news seemed to brim out your lips, overflowing with contrasting emotions you weren't able to conciliate. Gathering all your courage despite the trembling of your chin, you reciprocated the hold of Pierre's hands: it was building up, from your chest up to the throat, bypassing the rationality check. «I need to tell you something.» It was nothing but a whisper; Charles, unknowing to either you or Pierre, slowly got up from his chair, standing near you and placing his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it for comfort. Pierre waited in silence for your words, pupils scattered all around your features trying to get the smallest hint of which nature the news was. The tears pricked your eyes as soon as the thought hit your synapsis. «I'm pregnant, Pierre.» Releasing the pent-up distress, finally relieved by the burden of secrecy, you cried freely, ready to face the consequences of the news.

A part of you expected an endless chain of angry sentences and despair, complaints, immaturity. And the part of you who didn't expect such a reaction, or at least hoped for a better outcome without much conviction, still managed to astonish before the taken aback but sweet curve of Pierre's eyebrows, unbelievably moved by your words. «Really? Are you sure?» His mistrust annoyed you slightly and made you scoff through tears. But before you could answer with a snappy remark, he was all over you, hugging your sadness away, melting in an embrace that swiped bad omens, that dissolved the clouds of doubt in a sparkling, bubbly dust of relief. Pierre left a long peck on your forehead, which only freed tears from running ceaselessly. «I can't believe it…» he whispered out of an uncontainable smile. Your body and soul, both in shock from experiencing the most releasing happiness, trembled like leaves under the wind of Pierre's affection. He glanced at Charles, looking for confirmation, which he found expressed through the dimples of his best friend; then focused back again on you, whose reaction Pierre couldn't quite make out. «You're happy, right?» he asked, almost fearful of the answer. Sobbing a laugh, you leaned against his hand cupping your cheek and enveloped it with yours, fond. «Of course I am.» He paused, taking a full look at you in excitement and amazement, letting the thought settle in his heart. «When did you find out?» he asked, cupping your cheek as a fragile corolla of petals. Your mouth dried out, your throat was still knotted; thankfully Charles beat you on time in answering. «Almost two weeks ago.» You waited for it, you anticipated the hatred and the – righteous – disappointment in getting to know that his best friend had witnessed and received the news first. Fear invested you once again, through sobs and hiccups. «Y/n… Look at me.» It all seemed to down on you at once: sat in your weakness, you had disclosed all your cards and were now the most vulnerable you’d ever been with him. Not even when you had promised in front of your families to love him for the rest of your life, not even lying in his embrace and cuddling with him after breathing out affection and pleasure on top of each other’s skin; no rejection could hurt you more than now, while carrying two lives inside of one body, two souls, doubling the sorrow. His serious demeanour only spiked up your anxiety, as you realized you weren’t ready at all, neither emotionally nor mentally, to face him yet.

He shut his eyes closed, he prepared himself to talk; you braced yourself for the impact of the cruel reality. It had been fun, until it had lasted. This is no fairytale, you chanted to yourself, lulling your crying soul. «I love you.» You looked at him dumbfounded, waiting for the answer to be completed with a "like a friend", or something of the sort which would've stabbed your heart with pain as he would always do; but a peaceful silence followed his words, and the longer you stared at each other, the deeper the realization would set in your heart. The promise you had been waiting for since the day you had met Pierre, which you expected to hear at the altar, was now vowed to you, him still kneeled down. «When…?» you involuntarily voiced your reasoning, not able to make sense of it, caught by total surprise. «Since forever. It just took me a while to realize…», he then glanced at Charles. «… and the help of a friend.» Spontaneously, you flung your arms around him, heart aching in joy and bliss. You watered and creased Pierre’s shirt, feeling life flourish just by listening to his words; to seal them, he plastered a kiss on your reddish, smooth lips, and heaven reached earth. «A baby, uh?» Pierre said almost to himself, placing his spread hands on your belly. You couldn’t help but have eyes brimming with emotion, gently brushing with your fingers his: was there anything which could make you happier and more strongly bonded together? «Charles… I think we’ll need plenty of your ice-cream in the near future.» «Hey!» you patted Pierre’s shoulder, amusingly offended. «Oh, for sure. I’ll make you a discount, since you’ll buy it in large quantity.» «Guys!» you laughed, trying to stop their endless flow of jokes. With your left hand still pressed onto Pierre’s, you gazed down at your wedding ring, shining and glimmering under the sunlight. Maybe, no matter how unhoped and unplanned, yours was truly a fairytale.

to @gaslysainz: Thanks again for the request! I really hope you’ll like it…I’m not fully satisfied with how it turned out, but I couldn’t work on it any further 😂 I’d be glad to know what you think 🥹❤️

AND TO ALL OF YOU, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND FOR BEING PATIENT! I’D REALLY APPRECIATE IT IF YOU LEFT A NOTE FOR FEEDBACK, SO THANKS IF YOU DO! HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY! . · ˚✧

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[inlovewithpandora]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — Summers Of Pandora ᝰ Day 25 - Exhibition

Artists — Tsireya x fem!Metkayina!reader

Lyrics — Tsireya’s not having fun at the annual festival the clan throws, the performers aren’t as enticing to her as they are to you so to keep herself happy she decides to have a little fun with you, by slipping her hands in your loincloth.

Music Advisory — smut (18+), porn w/ (little) plot, aged!up Tsireya, in public sex, fingering (r! receiving) , breast/nipple play, clit stimulation, mention of squirting, cum eating, implied exhibition kink ᝰ this fic does contain aged!up character smut so if you don’t like that type of content please don’t interact and continue scrolling!!

Duration — under 1k

Index — tanhì - star; bioluminescent freckle • mawey - calm

Words from Artist — This is my first time writing smut for Tsireya so let me know how you guys like the story and if you want to see more smut with her. This was fun fic to write and i enjoyed the plot of this! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — event m.list・main m.list・event taglist ・prompt list

The moonlight is shining over Awa’atlu and the whole clan is gathered on the beach for the annual festival where the singers and dancers of the clan perform multiple songs and acts. Everyone is watching the dancers in awe while Tsireya is getting bored and restless. She’s been attending these events since she was young and over the years she’s grown tired of them. “y/n, can we go? I’m ready to leave.” She whines in your ear, wanting to go home and cuddle in your shared marui until you both drift off to sleep.

“No, ‘reya, just relax. It’ll be over soon.” You lean back and kiss her cheek while grabbing her arms, wrapping them around your waist as you sit on her lap, hoping that the physical touch will be enough to hold her over until the festival ends. You’ve always loved watching the dancers and how they performed difficult routines and executed them with such ease and grace, meanwhile, Tsireya isn’t slightly as amused by their performance and you can tell by the way she keeps on tracing circles on your skin.

You can hear the faint sound of her tail thumping against the sand which makes you realize that she is growing impatient. It’s been almost twenty minutes since her last plea to leave and at this point, she’s tired of waiting. The clan's energy is high and she can tell that the festival isn’t dying down any time soon, so she wants to find a sense of entertainment and have some real fun.

When you’re laser-focused on the angelic voice of the singers, Tsireya slips her right hand into your loincloth and starts circling her finger over your clit, causing you to jump slightly from the unexpected stimulation. “Tsireya, what are you doing?!” You whisper-yell as you grab her wrist to make her stop, causing her to use her left hand to smack your hand away. “Mawey, tanhì. You don’t want people to notice, do you?” She asks rhetorically as her hot breath trickles down your skin while she presses soft kisses against the crease of your neck.

The mischievousness in her voice annoys you because she knows exactly what she’s doing, intentionally wanting to turn you into nothing but a whimpering mess. You are about to spew out a rebuttal, but when you feel her tease your folds, a moan you were trying to repress slips out instead. “Tsireya, w-we can’t do this right now.” You can’t believe your mate is trying to do this in public, having you moan and squirm in her lap while there are people around to witness the lewd act that’s taking place between you two. Usually you hate the idea of this but with your brain feeling cloudy with pleasure it slightly turns you on that someone could be watching Tsireya touch and caress your exposed skin.

“Well, your body is telling me differently.” She retorts while fully thrusting her fingers into your heat, eliciting a whimper to fall from your lips. It is true, your words and actions are on completely different wavelengths. Your mouth is telling her to stop while you are practically riding her fingers, trying to make the pads of her fingertips touch the spongy part of your walls. “Just let me take care of you.” Her hand circles around your waist and moves up to your chest, moving the material that’s covering your left breast to the side, and begins to play with your hardened nipple.

“Mmm, shit!” You squeal, feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure of her strokes and how she is fondling your body just the way you like. The fact that she is using your body as a source of amusement makes you even wetter than you’ve ever been before, your slick is literally dripping down her fingers and smearing on your inner thighs. “Oh—Tsireya!” You whine while throwing your head back to rest on her shoulder, feeling a sense of pressure build up in your stomach, a sign that it would only take a few more thrusts before you come completely undone.

Tsireya knows that you are only seconds away from cumming all over her slender fingers, so for that reason she doesn’t mind you’re getting louder with the sweet noises that are spewing from your lips. The crowds’ loud cheering, yelling, and talking are drowning out your yelps and moans and thankfully the two of you are at the very back of the beach. Your mate can smell your fruit scented slick, and it clouds her brain, making her want to speed up the process of your upcoming orgasm by using a new technique.

When you feel her thumb rapidly swipe across your raw bundle of nerves and her fingers rut harder against the entrance of your womb simultaneously, you could feel yourself growing breathless while your muscles begin to contract. “Ts-Tsireya, I’m gonna—”

“Make a mess on me, tanhì.” Her gentle, lustful voice traveling through your ear canal, her soft lips pressed against the flap of your ear, and her filthy movements cause your eyes to roll to the back of your head as your orgasm rips through your body. Your juices mixed with your sticky release gushes out of your cunt onto her fingers, splashing onto her wrist and other parts of her skin that aren’t covered.

Once she helps you ride out your high and your body begins to calm, Tsireya withdraws her fingers from your tight hole and places them in her mouth, wanting the taste of your sweetness on her tongue. When she pops her fingers out of her mouth, she finally feels satisfied, coaxing an orgasm out of you was fun for her, in her mind you are hands down the best entertainment she’s had tonight.

Fanbase — @Peanut713521 @anemonelovesfiction n @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @makaylalovessmut @Kaydoux @biaaaaaaaa1 @hikotaru @thisaintredwine @lexieeeeeeeei @that-gurl25 @erenjaegerwifee @eme1hyst @o-kingston @neteyamyawne

— all rights reserved © INLOVEWITHPANDORA 2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[milfmuses]

Sleepy Showers

A/N: Hi hornies! I wrote this fic randomly and thought I should serve the sapphics more delicious Larissa content. Please make sure to read the warnings, and as always, feel free to leave comments and suggestions! Many thanks to the wonderful @weemssapphic​ for yet another beta read. Your kindness is overwhelmingly appreciated.

Larissa Weems x femreader

Summary: A morning shower turns into a steamy session when Larissa decides to shapeshift her most intimate parts...

Warnings: fluff, smut, g!p Larissa, Reader receiving, handjob, penetration, creampie

As you wake, the comforting weight of your lover’s arm over your torso almost lulls you back to sleep. However, you need to begin the day and get ready for work. You are a teacher at Nevermore, one that Larissa found herself infatuated with. You obviously returned her feelings. Things blossomed quickly after she gained the courage to ask you out on a date. Over time, your love for each other grew and now you both have a shared studio living area in the staff wing of the school. Your relationship can only be described as sweet, romantic, and loving. You find joy in the little things, always bringing Larissa flowers to brighten up her office, and buying her favorite lipstick when you notice it running low. She enjoys sneaking into your room between classes to bring food and sometimes you’ll return to your apartment, immediately noticing the envelope that you know contains a love letter she writes with passion. You even set aside time each week to have a special dinner or date night, usually opting for a nice restaurant, spending time afterward in the comfort of your bed watching movies, and then making love. Life is wonderful, and Larissa has brought you happiness beyond anything you’ve felt before.

Rolling over slowly, you face the woman of your dreams. Her blonde curls are tousled from sleep, her pale skin glowing in the morning light, and her plump lips stained a faint red hue from her daily choice of lipstick. The steady rising and falling of her chest accompanied by soft breaths brings you peace as you gaze upon your partner with nothing but awe and adoration.

Not wanting to interrupt her slumber, you place a gentle kiss on her forehead and begin lifting her arm away from your waist. Before you can roll back over and rise from the bed, a deep inhale sounds from beside you. You watch as Larissa’s eyes open and she groggily blinks away her exhaustion. Bright blue eyes peer into your own, the corners crinkling as a smile overtakes her face seeing your state of sleepiness.

“Good morning my love, are you heading to the shower?”

“Good morning angel, yes I’ve gotta get ready earlier today since I have a meeting with a student about a project before my first class.”

Larissa pouts when you mention having to leave bed early, wanting you to stay in the warmth of her arms for a while longer.

“I know you are being grumpy but you look so cute! Here, let me check my phone in case to confirm with the student.”

You roll over and pick up your phone from the nightstand, opening your emails and finding a new message sent just before midnight.

Hi Ms. L/N,

I started feeling sick tonight and will have to miss the meeting tomorrow morning. Maybe I can find a time to meet with you tomorrow if I feel better. Sorry for the late notice, I will keep you updated and let you know my availability for a rescheduled meeting time.

Thank you

Your face lights up knowing that you now have a free morning with the goddess of a woman next to you.

“Good news Riss! Well, I mean not technically good news since my student is out sick, but we have the morning to ourselves!”

Instantly, Larissa’s face brightens and she yanks you back over to her in a messy hug. 

“Thank goodness, how could I ever be deprived of my darling girl?”

You laugh and pull away, an idea forming in your head for a fun morning plan.

“Would you want to take a shower with me? You know how much I love holding you in the water especially now that you had a second shower head installed to keep us both warm.”

That stunning grin you absolutely adore beams back at you and she kisses your cheek affectionately.

“Of course I would, sleepy showers are the best with you, my dear.”

Both of you roll over to your respective sides of the bed, standing hesitantly on tired legs from just having woken up. Larissa winks at you and sways her hips teasingly as she makes her way over to the bathroom. You shake your head playfully at her antics, but don’t pass up the chance to ogle her round ass sitting perfectly in her pajama pants. Following her in a trance, you wince as your feet hit the cold bathroom tile. She gingerly opens the shower door and turns on the water, steam beginning to fog up the frosted glass as it heats up.

“My sleepy girl, let’s get you undressed for me. You know how much I love taking off your clothes…”

With a smirk, your girlfriend lifts the hem of your shirt, your stomach immediately reacting with goosebumps to the temperature. Your breasts fall into place, nipples standing hard against the chilly air. Larissa takes a second to bite her lip in arousal but pulls the shirt completely off your body.

“My my, someone appears a bit cold. Don’t worry, I’ll get you warmed up and take care of those gorgeous breasts.”

You blush at her flirtatious words and bring your arms over your bare chest, trying to heat up your freezing skin.

“Well, it’s only fair that you take care of what’s yours…”

She chuckles at your response, loving how you put up with her mischief and always play along. As to not keep you in the cold for too long, she lowers the waistband of your pants and lets the loose pajamas fall to the floor. You swear you felt a hand brush against your mound when she lifted her arms back up as she stood straight but you ignore it for now, impatient to get in the hot water.

“May I undress you too Rissa? Or should I get in now and wait for you there?”

“Why don’t you go ahead and step in love? I see you shivering, my poor angel. I’ll be quick, I want to spend every second I have giving you affection.”

With a pink hue gracing your cheeks, you shuffle over to the shower and step through the door. Marble walls stretch upwards, and white warm flooring is now comfortable against your feet compared to the harsh tile on the other side of the blurred glass that faces the rest of the bathroom. A bench attached to the wall has an assortment of soaps and gels neatly arranged in the corner. An instant sigh of relaxation and ease leaves your mouth, your body melting under the steady stream. 

Through the clouded glass, you make out the distinct shape of your lover removing her clothes. Her head tilts back as her shirt falls to the floor and the silhouette of her perky breasts makes your breath catch in your throat. She bends down and takes off her pants, revealing the supple swell of her ass that compliments her long silken thighs. 

Closing your eyes and bringing your hands to smooth back your now-soaked hair, you hear the door open and shut. You open your eyes and take in the sight of your naked girlfriend which freezes your body entirely. 

“Like what you see?”

“You know I do. Now come here before I eat you alive, you sexy woman.”

With a chuckle, Larissa steps forward and takes you in her arms. Her chest presses against yours, the squish making your cheeks deepen to a scarlet color. Her tall frame causes your face to rest against her shoulder, tender lips finding the top of your head.

Standing there silently, her arms wrapped around you in safety and comfort, with her soft skin against yours and nothing but love swirling around your brain is heaven. After staying still, savoring the beautiful moment, you feel her hand inch lower until it finds your butt. She gives it a squeeze, not missing how your breath hitches and you push your hips back into her hand. 

“Darling, how are you so incredibly divine? You have no idea how badly I want to engrave the image of you in my mind to keep forever. Luckily, I have you all to myself for however long you’ll allow me.”

Leaning back you stare up at her with adoring eyes, capturing those blue orbs that always have you mesmerized.

“My love, you have me forever. My heart belongs to you and I will cherish yours until the end of time. I love you Larissa.”

Her eyes observe you with total fondness, sincerity in her voice as she speaks.

“I love you too darling, you will be treated like a princess because that is what you are to me. If you want a kiss? You’ll have one. Maybe cuddles? Of course, my arms are open and eager. If you want me to worship you? Well, I will already be doing that as usual.”

You giggle and bring your hand to the back of her head, gently pushing her down towards your lips for a sweet kiss. Her mouth moves in tandem with your own, passion entangled in the way she pulls your bottom lip between her teeth and tugs, emitting a moan and then releasing it to use her tongue to explore. Your body tingles and your core throbs, the sloppy sounds of the kiss and how she hungrily devours your mouth turning you on severely. Pulling away to gasp for air, Larissa pouts with a whine.

“Rissa love, you’re making me squirm. Would you want to…?”

With a proud grin, Larissa seductively peers down at you, causing chills to run up your spine.

“Normally I would make you use your words, but I really want to try something this morning and I want to make sure you are comfortable with it.”

Your eyebrow raises in question, not knowing what she could possibly be thinking of.

“My love, I was hoping to use my shapeshifting abilities to… change my lower half. Would you be okay with letting me fuck you with a real cock? It’s just an idea and as always, we will never do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

The idea intrigues you and in your mind, the picture of Larissa fucking you with reddened cheeks from how you feel around her drives you wild. Not to mention, being filled by not only her cock, but her cum as well is something you’ve been fantasizing about. 

“Yes! I mean- yes, Rissa, I would really love that. I love you and I want you to feel every part of me, including the deepest parts that will bring you pleasure.”

Releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding in, your girlfriend excitedly hugs you and whispers in your ear.

“Good thing I know exactly which strap you love the most. I’ll just shift my cock to match exactly how you like it.”

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, you continue resting in her embrace as she shifts. You gasp as something rubs at your lower belly and you turn beet-red knowing what it is. Larissa groans when her cock grows against your body, the length squeezing between your smooth stomachs. Tilting your head back to watch her reactions, you hear a whimper and widen your eyes at how adorable yet sexy she is. Larissa pants as her hips softly rock to rub herself against you. Her eyes are shut tightly and rosy cheeks flush as small whimpers continuously exit her open mouth.

“Does that feel good baby? You look so pretty rubbing yourself against me. I feel how hard you are oh god- let me help you, sweet girl.”

Her eyes meet yours and she yelps as your hand grasps her hardness. 

“Are you sensitive, my love? Poor baby, I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Speechless in both exhilaration and overwhelming emotion, she intently focuses on your face. Your hand starts moving up and down, jerking her off with delicate strokes. Her breaths stutter and it takes an immense amount of effort for her hips to not fuck up into your hand.

“L-Love, yes god- feels… so good. Darling- I- I love you-”

With a sensual smile, you lean forward and capture her lips with your own. She whimpers into your mouth as your hand rubs her cock lovingly. Your pussy throbs and drips uncontrollably, her angelic sounds fueling the fire in your lower belly. 

“I love you too Rissa, are you ready to fuck me? Is that what you want baby?”

“Ye-yes please Y/N, please I need you-”

Her begging spurs on your dominance. Larissa typically takes on the dominant role but these moments when she is submissive and needy melt your heart.

“Okay love, I’ve got you. I’ve got you pretty baby.”

She shudders when you remove your hand. Turning around, you press your ass back into her, making her groan with her cock now pushed between your cheeks. You smirk to yourself and bend forward, presenting your backside to her. You lift a foot up and place it on the bench. Your cunt is soaked and Larissa is hypnotized, her cock throbbing and twitching, completely aroused by your bare ass and dripping arousal.

“Go ahead Riss, I know you can’t resist…”

Not hesitating and more than ready to enter you, she lines herself up with your sopping hole and pushes in.

“Oh fuck!”

She moans obscenely and grips your hips hard, the way your walls take her in and tightly clench around her length makes it hard to hold back. If she wasn’t so determined to fuck you as you deserve, she would have come as soon as she bottomed out. The stretch feels delicious, her warm cock filling you entirely. It feels similar to your favorite strapon, but there are obvious differences like the soft warmth of her skin and the way you can feel each subtle twitch and throb inside of you.

“Larissa- oh my god- please fuck me.”

Your lover immediately pulls out, leaving about an inch inside, and then thrusts back in. Her hips pound into you hungrily and she grunts with exertion and effort holding back her approaching climax. 

“Yes! Fuck me- god yes!”

“Yeah? You like that- darling? Take- ngh- take it baby-”

Wet slaps of her hips against your backside sound throughout the steamy shower and you brace yourself against the wall with your hands. Your breasts swing back and forth, matching the rhythm of her thrusts. She leans forward and kisses your back, nipping and sucking marks onto your skin while still gripping your hip with one hand and groping your tits with the other. Her hips lose rhythm and you recognize how her breathing gets shallow and her moans increase in pitch. She is getting close and so are you. Nearing the edge, you need a push to reach your orgasm. Luckily, your girlfriend knows your body well enough.

“Darling- I’m gonna- I’m close, please- I want you to cum with me- mmm ngh-”

She reaches the hand clinging onto your breasts down and parts your lips to find your swollen clit. Two fingers circle the sensitive nub expertly.

“Baby- fuck! Rissa gonna- cumming-”

Intense waves of pleasure overtake your body as your orgasm washes over you. Your walls flutter and tighten, causing Larissa to thrust once more and release herself. A strangled moan departs her mouth, and her pulsing cock shoots hot cum deep inside of you. Her entire body feels rapturous as she quietly mutters “I love you” over and over. Coming down from your highs, you both pant heavily and she rests her weight on top of you. She stays inside, loving how she keeps you full of her cum with throbs of post-orgasm bliss. Once you come back down from paradise and catch your breath, Larissa speaks softly.

“I’m going to pull out, darling- I’ll go slow and you let me know if anything hurts or is uncomfortable.”

Her cock carefully inches out, you wince at the emptiness but love how cum leaks out of you. Larissa watches in awe as white juices plop onto the shower floor, your cunt looks beyond alluring. 

“Good job my love, you did so well! I’m so proud of you. Thank you for letting me do that, I cannot even begin to describe how much I loved it.”

Surprisingly, she becomes shy and you turn your head to see her looking down trying to hide the obvious blush on her gorgeous face. 

“Thank you for fucking me like that Riss, I definitely want to do it again sometime. I enjoyed it more than you know.”

You set your foot down and straighten your back at the same time, rotating around to face the love of your life. Larissa studies your exhaustion and sexily disheveled post-orgasm state. Your chest rises and falls steadily. Cum now slides down your thighs and red marks adorn your hips from where she gripped you. You are the most beautiful woman she has ever seen, and at this moment, she can barely function seeing you like this. 

“You are so beautiful, I love you. Let me hold you for a bit before we have to clean up and get ready for work. First, I’m going to shift back.”

She closes her eyes once more and concentrates, morphing back to the stunning lower intimacy that you worship endlessly whenever possible. 

“I love you too Rissa. Although I loved you fucking me like that, I have to say I missed this dearly.”

You cup her center and move to kiss her with so much love. You both smile into it and then settle into a comfortable embrace. Your head rests against her chest, listening to the strong heartbeat of the blonde angel that you are lucky to call yours. She holds you protectively, placing her cheek on the top of your head and passing her body heat to you. Intimacy like this between you and Larissa, standing in the middle of the shower as warm water soothes your bodies, is something you will cherish until time stops.

[daisygirlwrites]

Little Things (Simon "Ghost" Riley + Reader "Crash") Platonic Headcanons

Part Three to Rough Start & Olive Branch

a/n: hey hey! been a minute, sorry about that ;-; also sorry that this is a bit shorter than usual but i might write some small fics about a few of these headcanons in the future. should be posting again sometime soon though! thank you so much for reading!

taglist: @bobfloydsgf , @itsscromp , @d4z01

Being friends with Ghost is like putting a puzzle together except all of the pieces are scattered. Finding some of them would bring you delight and while others give you a better understanding of the man. Throughout your long years of friendship, you come to an understanding that there will be pieces of him that you will never get to see, some forever gone. And yet, even if the puzzle is incomplete, you had most of it together. You’d rather have that than nothing at all

That being said, your first year with the team was quite good, besides the constant threat of almost dying and a certain member of the team being mean for almost half of it

But after bonding over knife throwing and tea for the last couple months, you and Ghost have grown close. To him, at least. From your perspective, after getting your new callsign, you felt like your relationship with him hasn’t progressed much

However, it’s the little things that you’ve noticed with him:

Like making your tea in the early morning. Half of the time you would join him and other times when your nightmares don’t show up, he’d leave your mug in the microwave

Knowing that you were raised in the Rocky Mountains, it kind of surprised him to learn that you hate the cold. So during missions in colder climates, after watching you shiver like a wet cat, he’d give you his extra pair of balaclava and gloves.

“It’s a little big on me” “Fine, give it back then” “No >:( “ 

Another thing that he does for you is taking your first watch during missions. In the first couple months when you joined, Soap and Gaz had a list of “Rookie Responsibilities” and of course one of them was to take the first watch. It wasn’t really mandatory but being a people pleaser, you did it anyway. 

It went well at first but in the last couple months, Ghost noticed that you, in his words, looked like shit after missions. And of course, you’d volunteer for the first watch. Sometimes, when it was his turn, he’d find you somehow looking worse, giving him the frog blink and thumbs up, before watching you immediately pass out on the cot or couch. 

You’d make a fuss when he would take the first watch and he had to basically pull rank to force you to go to sleep

Still calls you Rook/Rookie besides your callsign. Would sometimes call you Tiny and Mini-Me just to piss you off

Isn’t a surprise but Ghost is really observant. Knows your nervous ticks and honestly reads your emotions well. He didn’t do it before but he does check up on you 

Head pats is a thing that he does. Used to do it to his nephew and Joseph would look up to him with his cheeks puffed and whining “Uncle Si!”. You’d have the same reaction except with calling him Uncle Si, you’d usually say “Ghost, what the fuck”

You find out that Ghost doesn’t like talking about family and Christmas. Hearing some bits of info from Price, it broke your heart to learn about the reasons why he’d always gone on missions during the holiday. But at the same time, you understood him

You kind of do the same thing, taking on missions instead of going on leave. Kind of surprised Ghost when hears that he’s going to get paired up and with you of all people

“I figured you’re the type to celebrate the holidays” “Oh, I am, Just didn’t want to see my dad, that’s all.”

He opens his mouth to comment but chooses to not say anything at all. He gives you a nod instead. Ghost understands your family dynamic, it mirrors his.

Would copy his accent to make fun of him over coms. Yes, it was very bad but it did make the team giggle. He hits you back with an equally horrible American accent that made you cry

He accidentally told you one of his favorite dishes during a stake out. He was listening to you talk on coms about how much you missed pizza and how you can’t wait to go back to base to make some, silently nodding in agreement. 

“I would kill for a bubble and squeak right about now,” he thinks out loud, not realizing that his coms were on He became slightly concerned when heard you stop talking for a moment, before repeating to him, “A bubble and squeak?!” Even without seeing you, he can tell you had a big grin on your face, “I’m gonna keep quiet.” “No no, LT. I’m not making fun of you,” you assured him, “Tell me, what’s a bubble and squeak?” Ghost lets out an audible sigh before he gives you an explanation, “Basically mix some leftover mash, vegetables and roast and then fry it up in a pan." "Holy shit , that sounds delicious.”

Taught him some gen z slang because you notice that he would eavesdrop during your conversations with Soap and Gaz sometimes

Share the same type of humor. When you, Soap and Ghost got separated in Las Almas, they would hear you cackle on coms

Both of you wear your balaclavas as a second skin and would forget to take it off sometimes. Would sit in silence together as the rest of the team roast you for getting your masks wet with tea

Crash : “I have no soul. Have a nice day! :) “ Ghost : “I don’t have one either.”

Honestly, he finds you annoying but in a good way. Having you talk to him gives him the comfort that the relationship is improving but at the same time, he wants to smack you upside the head

That’s when he realize how much you remind him of his brother

When the queen died, Ghost wasn’t too upset. That is until you reminded him that Charles is now king

Due to some previous events, you’re the one driving Ghost everywhere when you guys hang out. Is offended when you straight up tell him that he has shit driving skills. 

Calls him Passenger Princess as a joke

Ghost is more into books than movies. So it does come as a shock that he mentions that he hasn’t seen the LOTRs movies. You basically force him (and the rest of the team) into a movie marathon for a day. He grumbles about how some of the scenes are different from the book but he does get into it during the Mountains of Moria

Impressed with how you handle your liquor. Watched you beat Soap and Gaz in a drinking contest before drunkenly demanding chicken nuggets and then passing out

Ghost is surprisingly decent at video games. During game nights, he’d beat everyone at Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros. You accuse him of cheating and of course, he denies it. Had to be held back by Price as you repeated “These hands are rated E for Everyone.”

Your face wasn’t a mystery to him or to anyone in the team. You took your mask off regularly around them. But like many others, you saw his face in Mexico. There was a greater sense of trust that you felt when you made eye contact with him. He gave you a soft smile and you returned it

"Huh, didn't think you'd be a blondie," You remarked as you both head towards the truck "Didn't think you'd be short but here we are," Ghost jokes back

He will never admit it in front of you that he's sees you as more than friends. That you have the best qualities from his family; his mother's compassion and his brother's humor and determination. Hell, at some points, you even resemble Joseph with your optimism.

He has someone to call family again

Bonus Memes:

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 14

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Lloyd wheezes and rubs his chest. You look down at him from the other side of chaise. You have to fight to keep the grin from your face. Your eyes slowly drift to the door. 

“Don’t even fucking think—of it,” he huffs as he kicks the chaise into your leg. You wince and let out an ow, “you’re in big fucking trouble now, baby face.” He rolls onto his shoulder and presses his hand to the floor, “fuck.” 

“Sir, I didn’t do anything--” 

“You know what the fuck you did,” he snarls as he sits up. 

“I did nothing. I’m sorry I’m weak,” you pout, “I couldn’t hold on--” 

“Oh my piss!” He pushes himself up to his feet, standing straight with effort, “you don’t stop. You’re going to drive me fucking nuts.” 

You’re quiet as you watch him. Is he not already there? He kidnapped you pretty much and hates you but won’t let you leave. It really seems insane to you. 

“Sir, with all due respect, I have offered to leave you alone.” 

“You just need to learn to shut your mouth,” he stomps around the chaise.  

You scramble into action and back away from him, making a circle around the piece of furniture as he advances, “now, sir,” you put your hands up, “I thought we were having fun. Playing a little game and you know when you play games, you can get hurt.” 

“Stop, come here,” he snarls as he gets closer and you hop backwards to evade his reach. 

“That seems like a bad idea.” 

“I said stop!” 

“You say stop but your eyes say run,” you babble. 

“This is your problem. You just don’t get who’s in charge. Me. I am!” His voice rises to a roar.  

Your eyes round, “I get it, F—Lloyd, I truly understand it. My dad too was a strict man.” 

“Dad? What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You continue your circles around the chaise, dizzy as you stagger on your heels. 

“I’m saying that I have known men like you--” 

“You’re comparing me to your dad?” 

“Well, I’m no fan of Freud by any means--” 

“Jesus!” 

He lunges and you dodge out of his way. He hits the square side table and you yipe. You don’t think you just go. You spin on your feet and race for the door. You let your adrenaline do the thinking as you rip it open and stumble into the hall. 

You won’t get far. You’re not stupid. You’re naked as sin and if you leave the house, you see a quick trip in a cruiser for indecent exposure. Still, you might find somewhere to wait out his rage. Just like with your dad. 

Alright, let’s cool it on the daddy issues here. 

You pump your arms as your feet slap on the floor. He’s following you. You can hear him. Like a charging bull. You can’t look back. You won’t.  

You veer around the corner and don’t have time to think. You don’t know where the heck you’re going. Far away from him is the only option you have. You barrel down the next hall, chest burning, head spinning. You keep going as your puffing fills your head and smothers out his pursuit. 

You can’t go any further. You have to stop. You have to hide! 

You open a door. Shit. It’s a closet but hey, there’s blankets. No time to think, just get in. You climb in an pulled down one of the folded waffle blankets. You shut the door, closing yourself into darkness and wrap yourself in the coveted warmth of the cotton. 

You hear him catch up. He’s just on the other side of the door. He growls and his heel squeaks on the floor. He paces back and forth, opening this door and that. He might think you’re smart enough not to choose the linen closet but that means he’s learned nothing. 

You wait until he’s gone. You shake your head. Having a big house is such a hassle. You can’t imagine cleaning a place like this, although he is the type to hire a cleaner so he probably doesn’t either. Still, what if you lost your phone in here? 

You let the tension flow out and lean back against the wall, keeping your neck bent under the shelf. You sit, folded up in the cramped space, and resign yourself to the tight purgatory. He just needs a minute. He’ll exhaust himself with his tantrum and then you’ll be okay. 

Besides, it seems pretty easy to distract. A few strokes and he’s compliant. Just like a cat. Not to mention he has the whiskers too. 

👄

Despite the uncomfortable circumstance you’ve stuffed yourself into, you fall asleep. There’s something about a traumatic experience that really takes it out of you. You don’t realise you’ve dozed off until the world falls out from under you and you sprawl out on the floor outside the closet. 

Your shoulder hits the cold wood and a woman lets out an exclamation, “Mr. Hansen! Mr. Hansen! There’s--” She sputters as she stares down at your dopey eyes, blinking up at her as reality slowly seeps back in, “there’s a woman!” 

She flutters off and you watch after her. That must be the cleaner. How’d you call it? 

As you sit up, you hear the echoing footsteps. It’s too late. You’re a goner. You clear your throat and cling to the blanket as you stand to face the music, rather, the mustache. 

Lloyd charges down the hall with long strides. You peer around, realising the windows are rather bright, also noting his change of clothes. Either you slept through the night or that closet has time traveling capabilities. 

“There the fuck you are,” he sneers. 

“Hello, sir, fine morning--” 

“Don’t,” he stops in front of you and points in your face, “here’s the deal, alright? We start over.” 

“So if we’re going back to the beginning, can I go home--” 

“Zip. It.” He chops the air with his hand. “You’re not leaving, let’s get that clear. Now, you are not here to talk or do whatever it is you do. You are here to serve me. You are here because you need to learn a thing or two about authority. About who the fuck I am.” 

“Lloyd Jansen,” you mumble and his face pales as the vein in his forehead throbs. “Hansen!” You say louder, “understood, sir.” 

“Why are you like this?” He asks. 

You stare at him. You’re going to try. The olive branch he extends is brittle and thin but it’s something. 

“I will be good, sir,” you put your chin, “I’ll try. I accept. Start again.” You keep yourself from saluting and instead, extend your hand to him, “deal?” 

He stares you in the face then looks down at your hand. He exhales and his cheek twitches. He reaches to shake your hand firmly. He grips tightly until your bones ache. You whimper and wilt. 

“Please, for the love of god,” he begs as he holds onto you, “stop talking for five minutes.” 

You can’t agree. Not aloud. So, you seal your lips emphatically and nod. He lets you go and you look at your wrist but there’s no watch there. You glance at him and shrug, holding up five fingers. He sighs and pinches his nose. 

“Just don’t talk unless I tell you too.” 

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Crazy, Stupid, Love

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: When Dean has to work at a café to learn infos on a hunt, he thinks it's the worst. Until he meets her. At first, she's only kind of an annoying coworker. But an unfortunate event brings them closer, and Dean starts feeling things for her. If it's love, he doesn't know. But for the first time, he starts wondering how it would feel to have a normal life. A normal job. And a normal relationship. But first, he needs to get her revenge against that shitty boss.

Note: this happens in the begining of season one

Word Count: 9k

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Content Warning: Toxic work place, rude customer, humiliation, bullying, swearing

Squares: Humiliation for @hurtcomfort-bingo,/ Revenge for @jacklesversebingo

A/n: I'm gonna be honest, at first, I didn't want to post this fic. When I saw the attention the last few fics I took so much time to write got, it made me sad... But then I remembered how much fun I had with this one, so decided to post it in case someone else has the same fun reading it. ALSO! This was for @eevvvaa writing challenge! I picked the movie Crazy Stupid Love but actually used the quotes! They will be in bold in the text. Happy reading!

Usually, this situation would have upset him. After all, he was stuck here 8 hours per day, 5 days per week and always finished too late to go to the nearest bar afterwards. It also wasn’t the best first real job to have, as it was lame, boring, and always the same thing. But working at a café also had its advantages.

Like the beautiful barista that he had the chance to see on his first day. She was leaving, as she was only working mornings, and he was working evenings, but Dean couldn’t detach his eyes from her. Beautiful body, hair immaculate even after 8 hours of wearing a net, skin tanned to perfection.

“Oh great, another one.”

That wasn’t the girl he was talking about. No, the girl that just spoke was Y/n. At first glance, she looked like the manager. With the most seniority in here, she knew how things were done and how to do them quickly. But she was no boss. To make her agree to be his trainer and show him the basics, the real boss had to insist a lot. He didn’t know all the details, though, but she ended up accepting.

It was for a hunt. Otherwise, Dean would never be here. Sam said there was something weird in the neighborhood, and that the best way to discover what was going on was to talk with the community. And the best place to have conversations with people that didn’t want to talk with the police was of course at the local café. All the rumors and crispy details of the town were floating in there. The reason why it wasn’t Sam doing the whole barista thing was as simple as upsetting.

“Dean, you have all the charm. People- ladies- will open up to you like blooming flowers in the spring.”

Ugh.

Back to the present, Dean ignored Y/n’s comment and tilted his head to the side, still eyeing the morning employee that was leaving. “What do I have to do to get on the morning shift?” 

A groan of annoyance resonated behind him. His smile fell. He was stuck with her for a while, as they were both working evening shifts.

Alone together.

-

There were 60 seconds in one minute. And 60 minutes in one hour. A shift lasted 8 hours here. That was way too many seconds to spend doing nothing but wait to leave.

All that was in his head was the hot chick he kept seeing since he started working here. After only bumping into her these past 2 weeks, Dean finally decided to ask her on a date. And since he was Dean Winchester, no one could tell him no. And the same day, after his shift, he would meet her in front of the pizza place that was two blocks away.

And he couldn’t stop looking at the clock, head in his hand, hoping that staring at it would make the time go faster.

“I asked for a hot caramel latte with almond milk and no foam, what the hell is this?!”

It was near the end. In 15 minutes, the shop would be closed and then it was cleaning time. Weeping the floor, throwing away the remaining food that was not sold, washing the dishes, etc. That was always his favorite part, because even if Y/n was a pain in the ass as his supervisor, she was chill and allowed him to choose the radio station while they cleaned and he could leave once his part was done.

At first, the voice didn’t alert him, and Dean kept on making himself busy with cleaning tables that didn’t need it. But then, something broke, the sound heavy of meaning, and he was on alert. Every fiber of his body was on and he turned to the source of the sound.

Right at the counter, there was a man with his back to him. Without seeing his face, Dean knew he was angry. Pissed, even. At his feet, a broken cup, porcelain in pieces covered the floor soaked in coffee. Two steps allowed Dean to know what the man was looking at, and when he saw her…

He immediately rushed without thinking.

“I’m gonna ask you to leave, sir,” Dean put his hand on the customer’s shoulder, which made him jump. The man turned to him and aggressively stepped back. 

“Don’t touch me,” the man hissed. “You’re working here, huh?” He looked up and down at Dean, noticing the apron of the café he was wearing. “Must be the manager here. Well, your employee here is worthless, you should be careful who you hire, for fuck sake!”

At that, Dean couldn’t help but wince. That was unnecessary rude to say. He glanced at Y/n again and felt his heartbeat with pain. Her head was down, probably to hide tears. That was probably not the first time she had to serve asshole customers, but it was the first time Dean noticed it. Working in customer service was not easy at all, you had to be strong to endure all of that everyday.

He only knew Y/n for about two weeks, but he already knew a lot about her. She was calm. Kind. She cared about doing her job right. Yeah, she was a bit bossy and used every opportunity to send subtle little insults towards Dean just enough to annoy him, like how he couldn’t even do a coffee, in this economy? But it was never mean and he liked that side of her that didn’t let people step on her toes. But right now, in front of that man? She was small. She wanted to hide. It wasn’t the Y/n he knew.

“I’m not the boss,” Dean answered finally, placing his gaze back on the man. “But we’re closed, so I’m gonna ask you to leave.”

The rude customer was the last one in the café, so it wasn’t like he was breaking any rules. And he was Dean Winchester. He made the rules.

Red seemed to eat at the man’s face so much he was angry. “Not before I get what I fucking paid for!” He started yelling. Dean didn’t mind being screamed at, he was used to it with his dad, how sad it sounded. But when the man turned to Y/n to yell at her, Dean couldn’t hold himself back. “You useless cunt!”

“I said, out!” Dean grabbed the customer by the neck and quickly sent him backwards. His legs met the table right behind him, but it wasn’t enough to make him understand. The man lunged forward in an attempt to hit Dean, but he didn’t know.

Dean was waiting for it.

The fist missed, and the man stumbled into the void and collapsed on the floor like a clown. 

“This isn’t over,” the man growled and got up. Sure he would strike again, Dean was ready to fight. But this time, the fist didn’t miss. The pain came later, a few seconds after the hunter realized he got hit in the face. Fortunately for his ego, Dean managed to stay on his feet and not fall pathetically on the floor. 

He reached for the wound.

It was right near his left eye, it would bruise for sure.

With deadly flames in his green eyes, he looked at his target.

“Oh, you’re dead.” 

The rest happened quickly.

Dean decided he wouldn’t hold back anymore. As his head throbbed with ache and anger, he was about to hit with everything he got. But at the last moment, something interrupted him. A body, warm, soft, encircling his own, stopped him from moving.

“Please stop…”

Her voice woke him up completely. Shaking, she put herself between the two men to stop the fight even if she was scared.

The man took the opportunity to run away, the bell chiming behind him as the door closed violently.

A long silence followed the departure of the aggressive customer. A couple of seconds passed, then minutes, before she realized there was no silence actually. Things were happening around her, words were spoken, and the only person besides her was running around locking doors and closing blinds, cursing every word he could think of at the moment.

Her hearing was nothing but a shrill sound, almost painful, like she was deaf. It took another minute and him calling her name for her to come back to the present.

"You okay? He didn't hurt you?" Dean was kneeling in front of her. She finally noticed she was sitting down on a chair. Shaking her head, she tapped her hands in her face to finish waking herself up from her slumber.

"You're hurt and you ask me if I'm okay?" She stood up as she spoke, Dean doing the same. Then she seemed to disappear in the backstore to come back with a bag of frozen vegetables they used for the soup. "Sit down," she instructed. 

Dean would have been impressed by her capacity to focus after such an event, especially with how she was a couple of seconds ago, but he knew better. She wouldn't meet his gaze, her head was down, and when he glanced at her hands, it was to see them shake.

"Y/n-" 

"Oh, come on, sit down, your masculinity won't suffer too much, I just want to check," she rolled her eyes and almost pushed him to the chair. Dean let himself be moved around with a smirk. That was the Y/n he knew. "There, it's not that bad, huh?" 

"It's no big deal," he tried to convince her, after all, as a hunter, he got hurt more than once before and healed perfectly fine. But when he saw her, he understood. And he let himself be checked by her only for her. To reassure her it was nothing, it was fine, it would bruise into a black eye and nothing else.

"Okay, it's not that bad," she sighed in relief as she said that.

"Told you," Dean snickered with a smile. "Ouch!"

The frozen bag was now on his bruise and Y/n was turning her back to him. His first instinct was to ask her if she was okay, check on her, after all, she seemed pretty shaken up, but he knew she needed time, that was all.

"We should call the police," Dean ended up saying. Usually, he would never propose that, but the customer was human. A monster in some sort, but completely human, so the police could take care of it.

"No!" She turned harshly towards Dean, surprising him.

"Why not?" 

Pacing back and forth, Y/n seemed to get lost in her thoughts. "It's not necessary, I doubt the customer will come back, and it would put the cafe in a bad spot, we would lose customers and…"

Again, Dean knew. Y/n was a good employee, she loved doing her job right, but she hated the place, hated the menu and the disgusting coffee served here, and hated the management. But they were the ones giving her her salary at the end of the month, so she couldn't disappoint them.

"I can deal with the boss," Dean said, standing up, the bag still on his eye.

In front of him, Y/n sadly shook her head. "It won't be necessary." She pointed at one corner of the cafe. Then another. "There's cameras around, and he loves to watch. Loves to tell us everything we do wrong. He probably already knows it happened. We'll see tomorrow, I guess," she sighed. Then, like a thought crossed through her head, she lifted her head completely and crossed gaze with Dean. "Your date! You're gonna be late!"

Dean wanted to laugh. So badly. Of course, he talked to her about it. Kristina, their coworker from the morning shift and Dean's date, was waiting for him. But after what happened, it completely got out of his head. Smiling, he shook his head and placed the bag of defrosting vegetables on the table beside him.

"I'll call her, say something came up. She'll understand."

Y/n cringed, biting her lips and frowning. "I don't think she cares enough to understand. But you're cute and sexy so maybe she'll forgive your ass."

Immediately after saying those words, Y/n became a puddle of embarrassment. Her body flushed with the realization of what she just admitted.

"Really?" Dean would not let that go. "You think I'm the perfect combination of sexy and cute ?"

"Shut up," she murmured between her teeth, grabbing the nearest thing, the cloth he was using to clean the tables, to throw it at him. "Get out of here your shift is over."

"Yeah," Dean surprised himself by what he said next. "But I won't let you walk back home alone. Consider me your cute and sexy bodyguard," he laughed at her reaction, but it was nothing compared to the sound leaving his mouth when he received another cloth on the head. "Hey, this one was wet"

"Oops!" 

-

The next day started pretty badly. After a complicated night with barely any sleep and lots of nightmares, Y/n got up early to get ready. Even if her shift started at 3pm, she knew the phone would ring and the ruthless voice of her boss would order her to come in to talk.

About what happened.

It was not even noon when it happened. She was at her third coffee, so she had energy even if she felt dead inside. Since she was already dressed, all she had to do was grab her stuff and head to the cafe. Like usual, she had to walk since she didn't have enough savings to buy a car.

The weather was quite nice, compared to how gloomy she was feeling. It was warm and sunny outside. Y/n barely made a step out, locking her door, that a loud engine startled her. The sun was reflecting strongly on the hood, blinding her as she walked with caution towards it, and for a moment she thought maybe it was the customer that found her and came to finish what he started. Fortunately she recognized the car quickly, as it was the same car that drove her home last night.

A 67 chevy impala.

It was even more beautiful than when she saw it yesterday.

The drive to the cafe was quiet, apart from the chichats. How are you? Do you feel better? So, did he call you too? Usually, Y/n would have commented on something random just to annoy Dean, but when he turned his head towards her at a red light to ask her a question, she saw the bruise around his eyes, reminding her of the night before and how everything was her fault. If only she hadn't messed up the order…

Once parked in front of the cafe, Dean stopped the engine to turn to Y/n. "Hey," he said in a calm and steady voice. "Whatever happens there, it was neither our fault."

"I appreciate it, Dean, but it was. I was in charge, even though I told the boss more than once that I didn't want to be, so what happens on my shift is my fault." Without leaving him time to answer, she opened the door and left the car to enter the cafe.

The moment she stepped inside, a loud silence echoed around her. Every employee stopped chatting to stare at her, the customers mimicking their actions, wondering what was so much more interesting than getting their order right and fast. 

Y/n hated that. The attention. The eyes on her. The silence. Her body started shaking, both with anger and humiliation, the tears almost painful to hold back. But then, as she was about to step towards the boss' office, a warmth settled on her shoulder, stopping the tremors at once. And a voice she was starting to grow fond of whispered near her ear.

"Ignore them. They don't matter right now."

With Dean, she felt safe. Strong. Like she could do everything and never feel afraid anymore. That was until they were sitting in the office in front of the boss.

“Y/n, I am wildly disappointed with you. What you did was beyond unprofessional, and I can’t believe I have to do this. You’re suspended.”

It was nothing less than what she expected from her boss. Since working there, she had done everything to stay in his good graces, sometimes doing other people's jobs to compensate. Everything to keep the restaurant clean and to continue serving fresh food every day. It wasn't Kristina who would write down expiration dates on perishable products, or place the new arrival of breads behind the ones already there to prevent the oldest ones from remaining at the bottom of the shelf, covered in mold. If this place passed the health inspection every year, it was thanks to Y/n’s efforts, efforts that no one had ever noticed or considered.

It was probably better that way.

Head bowed, Y/n took a harsh breath and opened her mouth to apologize and admit her boss was right. However, the words could not come out of her mouth fast enough, because someone else was already speaking.

“This is bullshit,” Dean exclaimed. A quick glance in his direction, and Y/n could see his hands forming fists on his thighs. “Y/n did everything perfectly, it’s not her fault if customers don’t respect anything, not even themselves!”

“Dean, I think you're new here,” the boss replied with a calmness that didn't mean anything good. Y/n tried to draw Dean's attention to her to signal him to shut up, that it was nothing, that she could survive a week suspended, but the young man paid her no mind. And one look at his face showed her the same anger she had seen in him the previous evening, when he had decided to defend himself against the customer. “I watched the surveillance cameras carefully. Your reactions with this client, although undoubtedly intended to be heroic, were completely unacceptable. The next time you make a mistake, you will suffer the same fate as Y/n. For now, take your day, see you on Monday, Dean.”

"That's all?!" This time, Dean stood up as he spoke. “Y/n gets suspended, and I only get a warning and a day off? What the f-”

“Thank you,” Y/n quickly cut him off, grabbing his arm firmly to silence him. Strangely, like the day before, her intervention seemed to calm Dean down very quickly. “See you next week.”

As she was about to leave, her hand still holding Dean's wrist to drag him out of the office, a voice called out to her.

"Two weeks. See you in two weeks.”

It took a lot of control for her to say nothing. The inside of her cheek hurt from how hard she bit it, dragging Dean out of the office and then out of the restaurant. It was only once outside, far from prying ears and vulture eyes, that she was finally able to breathe.

“FUCKING BULLSHIT! FUCK YOU!” Suddenly came out of her mouth. If Dean still had any anger at that moment, it suddenly vanished when he heard so many curses coming out with so much anger from the usually calm Y/n. “Oh. It feels better."

Having never seen her like this, it took several seconds for Dean to compose himself. Large green eyes were fixed on her, wide, shocked, even, until a good hit on the arm woke him up completely. "Ouch!" He rubbed his arm as if it hurt even though her fist had barely tickled him.

“What the fuck was that, seriously?! Talk to the boss like that? You’re born stupid or you’re just too dumb to think, fuck, Dean!”

Still as surprised and shocked, Dean didn't respond immediately. Y/n was angry. More, even. Beyond pissed. Which was completely normal under the circumstances, except Y/n wasn't normally angry. She could get upset, complain about the system, the management, the customers, or how she was the only one doing all the little things that made the café special and comfortable, but she was never angry.

“I couldn’t let him talk to you that way, I just couldn’t,” Dean explained calmly. It was quite rare for him to be the calm one in a heated argument. But in this case, he knew he had to keep his own rage to himself, she didn't need more anger. She needed to speak, to expel this emotion out of her like a demon that needed to be exorcized.

“Well, that was fucking stupid,” she pointed at him, her gaze meeting his. This surprised him again. Y/n was shy, although she was a good leader, and he noticed she had trouble looking people in the eye for several seconds. She always ended up looking away, and he knew it wasn't because she was dishonest, but rather that she was afraid of the judgment in the eyes of others. So that she was yelling at him while staring right at him… That surprised Dean again and made him speechless.

For a few seconds, he forgot that he was being told off by a girl for defending her, and lost himself in the contemplation of her magnificent orbs. Since he had known her, he had never really seen them, or bothered to look at them.

And her eyes were beautiful, even filled with anger.

Probably noticing the eye contact was getting considerably long, Y/n finally broke the almost trance-like effect to gaze elsewhere.

“Have you had it long?”

She was still not looking at him. "What?"

“The uncontrollable need to save the damsel in distress.” The corner of her lips lifted up in a smirk.

“I-” He couldn’t tell her that this was actually his life. Saving the woman and the orphan, killing the monsters, it was so ingrained in his life that it was part of him.

“Come on,” she muttered, still not meeting his gaze, gesturing to him to follow her.

"Come on… Where?" It was the longest conversation he'd had with her, and it was only because she was angry, he remembered. He was here for a hunt, he had to learn more about the people of the town. Concentration and focus were required, but yet... This side of Y/n, her confidence, how she wasn't afraid to yell at him like that, when she was normally so gentle...

He liked that side of her. Not that he disliked the rest, it was just-

“I think you have tonight off, and I, well, the next two weeks.” Starting to walk towards the impala, she then stopped and turned her head just enough to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m going to help you rediscover your manhood. Do you have any idea where you could have lost it?”

A big smile stretched Dean's lips. This was the Y/n he knew. “Probably over there,” he pointed to the horizon. “Near the pizzeria. You hungry?”

-

The pizza was the most delicious thing that had passed Y/n's lips in a long time. Very greasy and dripping with cheese, the junk food was simply good after such a catastrophic day. And sharing this moment with his colleague, accomplice, even, and perhaps friend- if he wanted to- was the icing on the cake.

Her heart always beat a beat and a half faster when he was near her. And although she tried not to like him, not to get attached to what was clearly a bad boy who preferred girls like Kristina, who just hung out with her because he had free time… She simply couldn't deny it anymore. What her heart desired was starting to win over what reason screamed at her.

Don't fall in love.

And yet, as that evening at the pizzeria after her suspension turned into an almost daily routine, her heart prevailed. The crush she immediately had for the young man with emerald eyes and cheeks covered in a milky way of little freckles was slowly transforming into something deeper.

A week had passed since her suspension, it was Saturday again, and as usual, Y/n and Dean found themselves at the pizzeria. The owner himself now came to take their order, even though he already knew what the two wanted since they always ordered the same thing. Everything was going exactly as usual, Dean recounting his day at work, how slowly everything was going downhill without her.

“I worked with a new guy, and son of a bitch, I’ve never seen someone take their time so much. It’s like he did it on purpose,” Dean sipped his drink. Y/n’s gaze followed the movement of the Adam’s apple rising and falling as he swallowed. She was barely concentrating on what he was saying. “We had two complaints that the sandwich bread had mold, but the person in the kitchen didn't get in trouble for it. It’s like the boss knows that no matter the wait time, the quality of the food, or the attitude of the employees, the cafe will always make money since it’s the only one in town,” Dean let out a little laugh which only spread the butterflies in Y/n’s stomach. “Let me tell you that over the past week, some regulars have stopped coming. Oh, and many have asked where you’ve been.”

“It’s not surprising,” she finally answered after a few seconds of silence where only the chewing of Dean devouring his pizza could be heard. On the table, near the windows, the dessert was already there, two slices of pie that the owner had reserved for them knowing they were coming. Her gaze fell on the dessert as she spoke although she really wanted to look him in the eyes. Admiring the perfect color of his orbs, admiring how everything was perfect about him. It was so difficult. “What’s surprising is that the health inspection hasn’t closed this place yet.”

These words hung in the air for a moment, accompanied by silence. Finally glancing over at Dean, she found that he had stopped eating mid-bite, staring blankly at her. It was almost as if Y/n could see the gears moving in his mind.

“Yet.” That was all he said next, taking the time to finish his bite before continuing. "I have an idea."

“I could figure that much,” she laughed as she took her drink, anything to occupy her hands and look normal in his presence. Luckily he couldn't hear her heart thumping against her ribcage.

“We're going to avenge you,” he pointed ahead, at her, and that was enough for her eyes to move from his finger to his eyes. She managed to hold his gaze for several long seconds which seemed to her like hours of torture. "You'll see."

"See what? Oh, how cute,” a voice broke the bubble Y/n and Dean were in. She hadn't heard that voice in a week, and it had been the best thing her suspension had given her, except for all the time she'd spent with Dean since.

“Kristina,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes immediately going to her pizza. A weight seemed to settle on her chest, pressing down hard with its gigantic pressure.

“Hey,” Dean greeted her, and the pressure thumped harder against her heart. “How you doing, Kristina?”

His tone was kind. Friendly. Sweet. Just like he was with Y/n. But with a bonus, he was flirty.

Obviously.

She was not special.

“Oh, I'm doing well, much better,” she laughed. “Especially since Y/n isn’t at the café anymore. No one is ordering us around anymore, right, Dean?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n could see movement. Raising her head just enough to have her in her sight without looking directly at her, she could see her hand on Dean's shoulder. Besides, she wasn't alone. Two other girls from the cafe were standing with her. Without looking at them, Y/n knew. She felt their gaze on her, burning, like vultures around prey.

“I actually liked working with Y/n,” Dean replied as calmly as ever. His words created a spark of hope in Y/n who this time looked directly at Dean. “It’s not as fun without her,” he continued.

“Oh,” Kristina laughed, and her two henchmen followed suit. “I know you want to stay in her good graces by saying all this,” she leaned towards him to whisper in his ear, but made no effort to lower her voice. “But you don’t need to. I think she's going to get fired. The customer came back to file a complaint against her.”

"What?" Dean leaned back slightly to get a better look at Kristina. Now he had his face so close to hers that only one movement was necessary to kiss her. And he had a perfect view into her cleavage. “But…” He turned his head towards the girl sitting in front of him, obviously not understanding why she was being fired and not him.

“You don’t have to lick her boots anymore,” Kristina put a hand on her hip. “I know she’s in love with you, but at this point, it’s pity, right? Spending time with her… Poor little thing. No friends. No boyfriend. Only feelings for those who don’t love her. Just like last time, always falling for the new guy.”

Her face was burning. Y/n was seething, with anger, with sadness, with humiliation. And the worst, the worst was Dean's expression. His gaze, which he constantly fixed on her, seeking to meet her gaze, wanting so much for her to grant him one look, was now stuck in emptiness. And a look of pure confusion made him frown.

Dean refused to look at her anymore.

It was too much.

“Ew, friends to friends,” Kristina added, as if the stabs she had already thrown didn’t hurt enough already. “Ew.”

Standing abruptly, Y/n slammed her hands on the table. Head bowed, her hair cascaded in front of her face, trying as best as they could to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes and inevitably rolled down her cheeks. A ton of insults raced through her mind, but they all got stuck in her throat with this lump growing and growing, until finally, the tears flowed.

One.

Two.

One fell silently onto the table. The other, on her plate, right next to the barely eaten slice of pizza.

Before the third tear fell, Y/n was already out of the restaurant and walking as quickly as she could towards her house. The tears continued to flow without her being able to stop them, but she remained silent. If she could control one thing tonight, it would be her voice. No sound would come out of her mouth until she was alone, at home, in her bed. Only there, she would let herself scream all this pain into her pillow.

No one tried to catch her.

-

“Good news,” Sam announced before his brother had even closed the door. “Get this. There was no monster from the beginning. It was actually kids who created the whole thing to attract attention. You don’t have to play barista anymore.”

"Oh." 

Looking up from his laptop, Sam fixed his gaze on Dean. The door closed slowly and he took off his coat just as slowly and placed it on his bed. The motel was shabby, like all the others, and usually, Dean would never place his precious leather coat on those blankets which he called "the most disgusting object the universe has known." He'd cleaned the covers several times to be sure, but the comforter had kept this unnatural color, so he still didn't trust it.

“Dean.”

“I'm going to take a shower,” his brother grumbled as he headed towards the bathroom, completely ignoring what Sam had just said.

“Okay, but-” the door slammed. “Okay.”

Sam waited for Dean to finish his shower for almost an hour. The only reason Dean Winchester would take such a long shower would be the fantastic water pressure, but having used this bathroom for over 3 weeks, Sam knew that really wasn't the case.

Finally, Dean came out.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Sam closed his laptop to put his full attention on his brother. The latter sat at the end of his bed, dressed with fresh clothes, his towel on his shoulder to catch the droplets falling from his hair.

“Have you ever dreamed of a normal life?” Dean answered his question with another question. At this, Sam rolled his eyes.

“I had a normal life before, remember? Before you picked me up to find Dad?”

Dean made a sound that was a mix of a sigh of guilt and a grunt of frustration, probably directed at himself. "I know but…"

“I can't believe it,” Sam stood up at the revelation. “You like working there.”

“Nah,” Dean slapped the air like he was chasing away the stupid idea. “Actually, yeah, but not anymore. Working in customer service is horrible.”

“I feel like there's a but,” Sam went to sit next to his brother on the bed.

“But,” Dean took a deep breath. "There is a girl."

Sam sighed. Obviously it was about a girl. “Have you slept with her yet? Because if you want to stay here for a one night stand, I swear-”

“She’s in love with me.”

Sam turned his whole body towards his brother, his eyes wide. "Oh."

"Oh."

“Do you like her back?”

At this question, Dean's face disappeared under his large hands. “I don’t know,” his voice sounded muffled by his palms.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

"I don't know!" Dean exclaimed, removing his hands at the same time. It was his turn to avoid looking at someone, staring at the void instead. “I don’t know what it is to love. How to love. If it’s love. It was never explained to me, you know, it wasn’t dad who would tell me how to know if I love someone.”

A silence followed his words, but not for long.

“With Jess…” Sam began slowly, as if the words he was about to say were poisonous snakes that could bite him at any moment. “It was simple. I felt good with her. She felt good with me. And together, we were good.”

“Okay,” Dean listened intently, as if the answers he was looking for were on his brother's lips.

“Do you like spending time with her?” He then asked.

Dean didn't even think for a second. "Oh yeah."

“When you're not with her, what do you do? You think about her, right?”

This time, Dean took a moment before answering. “Well, I worked at the cafe, so obviously I was thinking about her, since she wasn’t there but she used to. And then, when I finished work, I would go see her and we would order food or go to the pizzeria.”

“Okay, and then?”

"And then what?" Dean finally looked his brother in the eye. He still had questions, still doubts, confusion, but that was completely normal. A soft, understanding smile stretched Sam's lips.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“Oh, how I want to punch that shitty boss in the face,” Dean clenched his fist to mimic his words. “I never hit women, but that girl, Kristina, humiliated Y/n terribly earlier. And I reacted too late, she was gone and-”

He stopped speaking suddenly, as if enlightenment had finally reached his mind.

"And?"

“I have to join Y/n, apologize, I-”

“Dean.”

Stopping just as he was getting up and putting his coat back on, the green eyed man turned to his brother.

“If you're in love, I can't tell you, Dean. But I can confirm that you like her. But for tonight, let her breathe, these feelings are new for the both of you.”

At these words, Dean collapsed on the bed. “Oh, you’re probably right. I don't want to rush her, you know, she's so shy, but at the same time, so... Fierce. She's the perfect balance of sweet and spicy. And I let her down.”

To that, Sam didn't know what to answer. He knew that feeling, the one of having abandoned the person you love. That's how he felt ever since he lost Jess.

“I'm sure you'll figure out how to make amends,” Sam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Actually… I think I already know,” Dean turned his head towards him, green eyes meeting amber ones. Green eyes sparkling with a new resolution, probably very wicked. “And you, my dear brother, will be able to help me.”

-

Turned out, losing another employee during the busiest time of the year was a sufficient reason to terminate a suspension preemptively. And although, clearly, this did not seem to make certain employees happy and even less the boss who hated coming back on his decisions, Y/n was able to return to work after barely a week of forced leave. And also, strangely, the customer’s complaint seemed to have vanished from existence. Or maybe it was another lie that Kristina came up with to hurt Y/n.

And what a surprise when she arrived and saw the place.

It was depressing. Everything was messy and upside down, unopened boxes that needed to be refrigerated were lying around everywhere, and other products that needed to stay at room temperature, like syrups, ended up in the freezer. No rotation had been made, and it was with sadness that she had to note all the food they lost and throw everything away. It took her a long time, long enough for someone she despised to come and tell her how to do her job.

"What are you doing? Customers are waiting! Have you forgotten how to work?”

After making this more than derogatory comment, Kristina returned to her favorite position, the one that required the least effort.

Her heart was heavy. Filled and at the same time, empty. Since the last time with Dean at the pizzeria, she hadn't received any news. No call. No text. No, her heart wasn't big with heaviness, it was broken. Split. And now that she had returned to the café, she learned he no longer worked there.

Good for him, she thought as she put away one last box before heading towards the front of the café to deal with the customers. At least he was out of this hell. It was maybe better that way.

“Sorry for the wait, what can I get you?” The usual words were so ingrained in her that they came out of her mouth as soon as she was behind the cash register, without even looking at the customer.

“I would like you to give me the chance to talk to you,” a familiar voice said in front of her. That voice, low, hoarse, and so perfect. She had started to get used to hearing it almost every day. But this time, it forged yet another crack on her heart.

“Dean,” even saying his name was painful. The pain of a lost friendship and crushed hope. The pain of a humiliated moment, a bad memory where he had sat there in silence while she was being crushed as an inactive witness.

“Y/n. There’s no word to express how sorry I am for-”

An apology, of course, wasn't exactly what she wanted, but it was more than she had expected. He was there, in the flesh, in front of her. So, for once and although it was difficult because looking at him would hurt her even more, Y/n raised her head and stared into his sad gaze. Ready and open to hear what he had to say.

There was a sadness almost identical to her own in his beautiful green eyes. Guilt, regrets, he seemed sincere-

“Dean! I thought you had left the ship,” Kristina suddenly entered Y/n’s bubble, who didn’t waste a moment to move to the side. It wasn't unknown that Y/n didn't like being touched or having someone in her bubble, and Kristina knew it, so she did it on purpose. All the time.

“Excuse me, but I was talking with Y/n,” Dean replied in a neutral voice, almost annoyed, even.

“Oh, sure, you want to feel better about last time, but you don't have to,” Kristina continued, crossing her arms over her large chest.

Dean rolled his eyes and shifted his attention to Y/n. “I’m serious, Y/n. Come with me, I need to talk to you. And they don’t deserve you.”

Y/n's mouth opened, then closed, tears welling up in her eyes at an uncontrollable speed.

“Seriously, Dean, don’t you see how pathe-”

“Kristina, shut the fuck up. You’re bothering us.”

This really didn't please the girl who made an offended sound, threw an unimportant insult, and left without another word.

Once finally alone again, Dean was ready. Ready to tell the beautiful barista in front of him everything that was on his heart, even if he didn't really know exactly what it was himself. He had some in the past, girlfriends, one night stands, crushes on the most beautiful and popular girls in school, but that wasn't the same thing. He felt an attachment to Y/n, a different feeling that he couldn't describe. If it was love, he didn't know. But he knew he didn't want to lose her.

“It's a little too late to come to my defense,” her voice said instead of his. Taken by surprise, Dean's mouth opened then closed, like a fish looking flabbergasted. “Although I really enjoyed seeing someone tell her to fuck off for once,” the shadow of a smile drew on her face for a second, but quickly faded away. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work-”

“Wait,” Dean found his voice just in time.

“I don’t have time, Dean,” Y/n turned her back on him, giving him one last eye contact above her shoulder. Her eyes were filled with sadness and seeing her like that physically hurt him.

“On the contrary,” Dean insisted, a smile tugging at his lips as he knew the plan was going like clockwork. “You will soon have plenty of time.”

Seeing the obvious confusion spread across her face, Dean jerked his head towards the boss's office. This caught the attention of not only Y/n but also the other employees, because at the same time, voices were heard coming from that direction. Loud voices, displeased, and then the door opened.

“I am very disappointed with the state of this place. It's deplorable. I’m afraid I won't change my mind, the café is going to close.”

“Wait,” the boss looked tiny behind the person who had just spoken. Like the weight of reality was finally falling on his shoulders. Stomping him to the ground like a pest, just how he had always treated his employees. "You can’t, you don’t have the right!"

“I have all the rights, I am a health inspector, and this place is completely unsanitary.”

Witnessing the whole scene in the front row, like she was in the cinema, Y/n was jubilant. Finally. Finally this place was recognized as being good for trash. Finally, the boss got what he deserved. Finally, things seemed to come full circle and it was all over.

The health inspector subsequently introduced himself to the employees. He looked very young for this job, early twenties, probably, long hair parted in the middle of his forehead and hazel eyes, but regardless, he had done his job properly so Y/n didn’t care about the details.

“This place is going to close. But don't worry, you are entitled to unemployment compensation. Time to find something better for you,” the inspector finished his speech with a wink. If Y/n wasn't so excited by the idea of ​​being rid of this miserable job, she would have been sure that the wink was aimed at her personally.

A laugh brought her attention back to Dean who was still in front of her. As the health inspector informed the customers present of the situation and put a note in the door to say the café was permanently closed, Dean was giggling.

“You did this,” Y/n finally understood.

“Told you we would get you revenge. Now, can you please come with me and listen to me? I need to talk to you.”

“After what you did for me, lunch is on me,” Y/n laughed as well, took off her apron which she threw behind her, and left the café without a glance behind her.

-

“Listen. So uhm, how can I say this, so uhm… God, I’m so bad at chick flicks and emotional stuff.”

The two had been sitting at the pizzeria for about an hour and a half pizzas. The same place as usual, with the same order, but this time everything was different. It was not simply out of friendship that they came to share a meal, there was more. Hidden feelings, others clearly visible but which had not yet been addressed, and frustration mixed with regrets.

Dean had been trying for two slices of pizza now to say something, but would immediately turn red the moment he tried to open up emotionally. And Y/n couldn't even blame him, seeing the efforts he made for her, what he did at the cafe, for her, and now he was trying so hard to explain and make it up to her… He could say absolutely nothing and she would be satisfied.

“Take your time,” Y/n mentioned between mouthfuls, leaving all her attention on the young man in front of her who still made her heart beat so quickly. Of course, he had made mistakes, and to forgive him just because he had the best revenge for her was pretty stupid, but oh well. Love makes you stupid, right? “It’s not like someone is waiting for me.”

“It’s just,” Dean sighed and ran his hands over his face. Y/n's gaze stayed on the ring on his finger, a ring she had already noticed before. “Not easy to say this. I mean, not to you, but like, talking about my stuff like this. But there’s one thing I know I have to say, and here it is,” he finally seemed to find his bearings, beautiful green eyes anchoring into hers, his red cheeks creating a nice color contrast. "I'm sorry. Sorry for not saying anything when Kristina was there being a bitch. I guess I was taken up by surprise with what she said, but that’s no excuse.”

“Dean, it’s fine,” Y/n shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she knew exactly what she wanted to say to him. She took a big breath, words and sentences forming quickly in her mind. And it all came out of her mouth as quickly. “I am not ashamed to like you. Not at all. Because you are nice. Pretty. Hella sexy. And I feel comfortable whenever I’m with you. And I like spending time with you, and always wanna spend more. I won’t be ashamed to think all those things about you, because they are true, and they only make you a better person.” Pausing her words, Y/n forced herself to keep her gaze on Dean's again. She noticed that since those words had come out of her mouth, it was easier to hold his gaze. “You don’t have to have the same feelings, I understand. You don’t have to reciprocate or answer my confession, I can already see how bad it is for you to express feelings,” she laughed briefly at his scowling expression. “What I’m trying to say is… Yes. I like you a lot. And if you only like me as a friend, well, I’ll take that. It might hurt, but it would hurt more to not have you around anymore.”

Phew. It was hard to say, but once everything was out, Y/n felt better, lighter even. A heavy weight was finally leaving her heart, but there was still a little left. That was pressing. And tightening with the question… What will his answer be?

Dean took a brief moment to think before answering. Everything had gone silent, neither of them were eating, and both were probably holding their breaths.

“I've only known you for a short time,” Dean finally broke the silence, and the breath left Y/n's lungs which burned as it passed. She could feel the “but” coming. “But…” And there you go. “I really appreciate your company. A lot. I don’t know if it’s the same thing you feel, or if it’s love, but for the first time in a long, long time, I don’t want to leave this town. And I want to continue spending time with you.” Hope was reborn in Y/n, a wave of indescribable emotions suddenly invading her. “I'm going to have to leave, eventually, for work, but... I really want to take a break and try. I don’t know if I can do it, have a normal life, be with you, and just quit my job, so… I can’t promise you anything. I will probably leave eventually, I have so much stuff to do and…”

“You know,” Y/n continued when she saw him struggling with his words, hope now so strong in her body that she was almost vibrating. It wasn't a confession of love, but it was even better. This attachment Dean felt for her was worth even more than any cheesy love confession from the romantic movies or books she loved to delve into. “I no longer really have any ties to this city. No more jobs. If… We realize that things are working between us, and that you need to leave, nothing stops me from coming with you.” Realizing that it was probably too direct since they weren't even together, Y/n quickly adjusted her mind. “But those are just random ifs and thoughts,” she hurriedly took a bite of her pizza, just to make her stop talking.

“Y/n,” raising her head, she looked back at Dean. The latter had a big smile on his face and shook his head, clearly amused by her words. “If I told you what I did for work, you would never believe me. And when you”ll see it with your eyes and will be forced to believe me, you’re going to want to run away from me.”

“You’re a secret agent then?” Y/n hurriedly said, her mouth still full of pizza, her eyes wide. “Wow. Impressive.” She laughed, and Dean nervously laughed with her. If only it was that, it would be so much easier. “It really reminds me of my uncle.”

“Your uncle was a secret agent?” Dean asked, amused by the change of subject and how she was easily taking everything he said to her.

She was really the right one. Maybe she wouldn't run away after all.

“No, actually. When I was young, I often spent time at his house, but my parents stopped visiting him. They said he had lost his mind. But I loved these stories of ghosts and werewolves, he always told me he hunted them, saving people, like a secret agent of the supernatural,” a big smile stretched her lips at this thought, past memories flooding back into her head. It was so long ago, but she kept good memories of her uncle. Expecting the same reaction from Dean, Y/n only met a shocked face, frozen in a position that didn't suit him at all. Eyes wide, mouth parted, his skin white like he actually saw a ghost. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Dean?”

“Y/n, what’s your last name again?”

Taken aback by the sudden question, she blinked once and then twice. “Uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It’s Singer, why?”

A long silence answered her questions and her face dropped a little bit. Why did it matter?

“Your uncle… What's his name?”

“Dean, I haven’t seen my uncle in almost 15 years you know-”

“Y/n.”

“Robert. It’s Robert. But I always called him…”

“Bobby.”

It was her turn to have her eyes widen. “Yeah…?”

“I think you and I have more in common than I thought. And you really need to meet my brother,” he immediately stood up and threw two 20 bills on the table. Standing up in turn, confusion filled her entire expression.

“Dean, that’s way too much for two pizzas- Dean?” But she couldn't add more, and the confusion turned into this small, pleasant flame in the middle of her chest when Dean's hand met hers. “Okay, but you’re going to have to explain it to me because I don’t understand anything.”

“You'll understand,” Dean's smile was indescribable because it was so big. But that smile was hiding something else. Secrets that his beautiful lips had surely sealed away for far too long. “Let’s go,” he walked outside, said goodbye to the restaurant owner, and led her to his car. But once inside, he stopped before starting the engine, frozen yet again as another realization hit him.

“What? Something's wrong?”

“You… uhm… might recognize my brother, actually.”

“Why, was he a customer at the café?” Y/n laughed, fastening her seat belt. This whole thing was so sudden, so random, she just wanted to burst laughing. She felt good even if she didn’t quite understand everything that was happening.

“It was the health inspector,” he finally started the car and backed out of the parking lot and onto the road in one smooth, sexy motion.

“Oh. Wait, he’s a health inspector?”

“Not… Really?”

“Dean.”

Silence.

“Dean, did you fake the inspection?”

“Not really?”

“Dean!”

“Please. I’ll explain everything once we arrive. Do you trust me?”

For a second, Dean took his eyes off the road and looked into hers, and she held the gaze for the entire second and saw nothing but honesty. Then, he turned his head and broke eye contact, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see his right hand raised slightly towards her, waiting to be picked up.

“Yeah,” she finally said, gently placing her hand in his. It was warm. Comfortable. And how he squeezed, tenderly but also firmly, showed worry about losing her. “It might be crazy and stupid, but I trust you, Dean Winchester.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​ @kazsrm67​​​ @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland​ @deanswaywardgirl​​​ @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse​​​ @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1​​​ @syrma-sensei

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Girl Direction ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ Who Run the World? (Girls!) by dolce_piccante {M, 11k}

A femslash take on the beginning of Relief Next To Me, complete with girl!Direction, lots of tongue action, and lots of hints to the original work.

2️⃣ Tell Me This Is Paradise by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {E, 19k}

Harry Styles has been lucky in love but unlucky in the bedroom with all of her previous boyfriends. When her best friend Niall finds out that she's never had an orgasm, she knows just what Harry needs: Louis Tomlinson. Niall sets Harry up to get sorted out.

3️⃣ that good girl faith (and a tight little skirt) by ariadne_odair {E, 43k}

“What the fuck did you do to my shampoo?” Harry shouts, brandishing the offending bottle like it’s a vial of poison. “Is this fucking mud? Did you honestly replace my shampoo with mud?” “Not just your shampoo,” Louis says calmly, then cracks up when Harry visibly pales.  

Harry and Louis are camp counsellors. They hate each other. The amount of sex they have in the camp showers probably contradicts that.

4️⃣ I love your demons (like devils can) by ariadne_odair {E, 60k}

"I am right here," she says loudly, and she can almost hear the crack when Louis' head whips around to stare at her.

"Why?" Louis asks, and Harry feels her insides shrivel up and die.

Harry didn’t plan to join the football team. She didn’t plan to sleep with the captain of the football team. She definitely didn’t plan to sleep with the closeted captain of the football team, who promptly acted as if nothing happened and left Harry a pathetic, pining mess.

5️⃣ the wheel breaks the butterfly by embodied / @crossnecklace {E, 4k}

“Out with it, Styles,” Louis groans. Harry’s suddenly regretting this whole thing, and she’s sure she’s beet red now, so she just blurts it out so fast she’s not sure if Louis even understands her right away.   “I’ve never gotten head before.”

AU. harry and louis are roommates. girls' night ends a little differently than usual.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 You Make Lovin' Fun by @homosociallyyours {E, 109k}

Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there.

When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.

💎 That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright {T, 50k}

Harry’s never noticed how lovely Louis really is. Maybe it’s just that she’s usually so guarded – a little tense, a little irritated, a little put out. At least when she’s at school, and also usually when she’s around Nick, which are the only times Harry has really seen her. Until tonight. Tonight Harry’s seen her with her guard completely down. Too busy laughing and enjoying herself to remember to be prickly, maybe. She seems different.

It feels different.

A Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU that picks up right where the movie leaves off, and imagines what might happen if Ferris' girlfriend and sister become friends. And maybe something more, too.

💎 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {E, 17k}

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

💎 bambi legs by @disgruntledkittenface {NR, 11k}

“Oh my god,” Zayn says, rolling her eyes and standing up. “You do know what this means, right?” 

“Yes?” Harry tries, looking up pathetically and hoping Zayn will take pity on her. 

“This means she doesn’t even need the fabric she buys from you every other week,” Zayn says slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “She doesn’t come here for the fabric. She comes here for you.” 

Harry works at her family’s fabric store sometimes and always sells the most interesting fabrics to Louis. Louis is the wannabe fashion designer who keeps buying fabric she doesn’t necessarily need just to find a way to talk to Harry.

💎 in my head we can love forever by @beardyboyzx {E, 1k}

It's official: this is creepy. She's creepy. It's not like anything is going to happen just because Louis is a lesbian too. Harry's got to stop touching herself while thinking about her roommate.

Except that she can't.

Or: Harry might be a bit in love with her roommate.

[roguishcat]

Yours, if you'll have me

Summary: He found the letter on the ground between his tent and Gale’s earlier that morning. Not thinking much of it, Astarion swiped it, hoping to get a piece of juicy gossip. Gale having a secret admirer, how fun! He didn’t realise that the contents were meant for him. And from their unanimously elected leader, no less!

A/N: If you want to be tagged for future oneshots and long fics, send me a message or leave a comment. :)

Rating: Teen, for some very mild suggestive themes. Otherwise, just fluff, pure fluff.

Pairing: Astarion x female Tav

Oneshot, 2.5k

Setting: Act II

I hope this letter finds you in a better state of mind than yesterday. I wanted to tell you this in person, but I guess it is easier this way. I don’t think that I could say this to your face, so I will allow myself to be a coward.

I have admired you from afar. And not for the more obvious reasons, such as how comfortable and cared for you make others feel. Because, truth be told, I admire you most for your courage. You’ve suffered so much, but you did not lose yourself to the pain, you carry on against all odds. You are a wonderful, amazing person. I just wanted you to know how special you are. You deserve to live; deserve to have everything the world has to offer. You deserve it more than anyone. So, this isn’t a love letter, but a letter of appreciation. Because these are the words that someone should have told you a long time ago. And I hope this letter will allow you to see yourself the way I see you.

Tav

Astarion gulped, his fingers shaking a fraction as he re-read the words. He found the letter on the ground between his tent and Gale’s earlier this morning. Not thinking much of it, Astarion swiped it, hoping to get a piece of juicy gossip. Gale having a secret admirer, how fun! He didn’t realise that the contents were meant for him. And from their unanimously elected leader, no less!

She must have dropped it accidentally, or perhaps was scared off when she was delivering the message in the middle of the night. Sounded just about right for a closet hopeless romantic that Tav was.

Astarion knew that she possibly harbored some feelings for him, it was inevitable that she would fall for him, seeing as he made quite an effort in nudging her oh-so-casually in that direction. The accidental touches, the flirty remarks, pulling her flush against him when an arrow whizzed past her. You know, the usual tactics.

What he didn’t expect was this. This was more than just a bit of fun. More than just two consenting adults spending a few nights together. And he was not sure how to feel about it. Perhaps he succeeded in making her fall for him a little too well. He was just that good, apparently.

He watched Tav as their group walked along the dusty road leading from the Githyanki Crèche and to the mountain pass which they would take to Shadowlands. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. She smiled at him, but did not seek him out on purpose, seemingly treating him the same way that she would treat any of their companions. With the same warmth, the same caring.

Astarion scowled. He didn’t realise how good an actress she was. He always assumed that she wore her heart on her sleeve, but apparently it was not so. Because this was definitely not the behaviour of a person in love, not from his experience of those who claimed to love him over the years that is. And he had plenty of experience when it came to lovers.

This is not a love letter.

Oh, please. Why be so subtle about it? Where were the exaggerated, pretty flowery words? The proclamations of undying love? And whatever else that she would come up with. He would accept it all quite graciously. As it was all part of his plan, of course.

Perhaps she thought that her feelings were not reciprocated and sought to shelter herself from pain. Yes, that had to be it. Well then. He would allow her to shield herself from heartache and not mention the letter at all. Because that was the gentleman-like behaviour that probably was expected in such situations. Not that he was a gentleman, but he imagined that teasing Tav about it would not be the smart thing to do if he wanted to stay in her good graces. Because there were plenty of others who would take her off his hands in a heartbeat. Of that much he was certain. Most members of their group propositioned Tav in one way or another.

Astarion smiled smugly because as far as he was concerned their feelings didn’t matter. Not now and not ever. As long as their pretty leader only had eyes for him, he had nothing to worry about.

The Shadowlands were quite aptly named, as they soon found out. They fought their way through the screeching, howling masses of foes and finally reached the glimmering semi-transparent dome that enveloped the Last Light Inn. Choosing to camp outside and not take up lodgings within the inn itself came with its downsides, but at least being away from all the Harpers afforded a semblance of privacy.

“Astarion, come join us,” Tav said with a smile, getting ready to have dinner with the rest of the group. She shivered involuntarily, not that she felt cold. All of them felt as if they were being watched by something, the condensed darkness rolling and moving menacingly just beyond the thin shell that was protecting the inn.

“I am not sure I care for idle chatter around the campfire but do carry on if you wish. I will see you later, my dear,” Astarion said with a distracted smile, wanting to have a little time for himself before Tav came to him.

It was a routine of sorts that they fell into, her coming by his tent in the evenings and the two just spending time in each other’s company. Sometimes she stayed the night, sometimes she went back to her own tent. It was quite casual. Or so it seemed to him until he found that blasted letter.

And sure enough, she came to his tent just as the others turned in for the night. Astarion was reading, or at least pretending to read at this point.

“Can I confess something?” she plopped down next to him.

Oh. He knew this conversation was coming, but he was still caught off-guard.

“Well, of course. I am all pointy ears, dearest.”

“Gale wanted to talk to me today. I knew what it was about and I- I told him that I was not interested. I didn’t even realise that he liked me that way up until today, it kind of seemed like he was still in love with Mystra. Or at least not ready for a new relationship.”

Astarion scoffed. Gale’s pining and artless flirting with Tav, or rather at Tav, did not go unnoticed in the camp. Of course she would be clueless. The sweet, inexperienced Tav. Well, not that inexperienced now. She did spend several mind-shattering, unforgettable nights with him, after all.

“Actually, there is another reason I am glad that he said nothing until today. A while ago, when we first started travelling together, I wrote him a letter which I never sent.”

He froze.

“Did you now? A love letter?” Astarion commended himself on sounding nonchalant because he felt anything but. He did not want her to keep speaking but could not think of anything to say to make her stop.

“No, nothing like that,” she laughed. “I just- he told me about the orb that day, about how he was prepared to die to make it all right. So I wanted him to know that somebody cared. But it was just a silly letter, I suppose. I am glad that no one saw it.”

“It was not just a silly letter,” he swallowed, his throat feeling tight. “At least not to me. I found it and I- I thought it was meant for me.”

Tav looked at him wide-eyed and unblinking, her hand coming to rest on top of his.

“It’s not a big deal,” he laughed, trying to brush it off as inconsequential, “you really should label these things better in the future, darling. I- do excuse me,” he suddenly had the urge to be elsewhere, anywhere but here.

It was stupid. It was completely idiotic. Yes, the letter was never meant for him, and sure, those words were meant for another. It was not a big deal, really. In a way, it made everything easier. Their trysts would come to an end, true. Tav did not seem experienced enough to take on more than one lover. And even if she offered, there was no way that he was sharing her with Gale.

The worst of it was that on some level he knew that those words were never meant for him. He was always admired for his looks, never for more than his looks. It was foolish of him to assume that Tav was any different. That she would want something more with him.

He came back a while later, finding Tav gone and a letter set neatly on his pillow. He picked it up and reluctantly opened it.

Dear Astarion,

I didn’t know much about you until very recently, when you finally started opening up about your past. But now that I do know, let me tell you how I see you.

You are the most aggravating person I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Truly, I don’t understand you at all sometimes! You can be hurtful and condescending, and I never quite know what’s on your mind.

Well, this wasn’t exactly a good start. Astarion almost didn’t want to read on, but his damnable curiosity compelled him to continue. He wanted to know what else she had to say.

And do you know what’s the most annoying thing about you? How you leave without letting me finish what I had to say! Because if you did stay, I would actually finish confessing about how much I care about you.

I can’t say that this is love, although I’m not exactly a great judge of that, I’ve never been in love before. But I think about you all the time. About how much I love seeing you smile. Not the fake come-hither smiles, but proper real ones, the ones that reach your eyes.

I love seeing you in battle. I think I’d be too much of a coward to say it to your face, but seeing the intensity and ferociousness with which you wield your rapier is just so- (Okay, I’ve just reread that line and I know how you’re going to smirk and make fun of me for writing this, but there’s no way I’m crossing this out).

He snorted. Wield his rapier. He would have to remember to tease her about this later.

I love how meticulously you care for your things, taking such pride in your appearance. Not that you need to. You are the handsomest, most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on, but you probably already know I feel this way. When you are around, no matter how much I want to pay attention and focus on what others are telling me, my mind wanders as I think of you.

I love it when you let me stay in your tent and I get to hold you in my arms as I fall asleep, it feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Although there is the small issue of the tadpole, the Absolute, and all other murder-happy bastards that are hunting us down, somehow in these moments when it is just us two, I feel safe.

I know that you probably don’t feel the same. You said so yourself, that this was just a bit of fun. So, this isn’t a love letter. I don’t want to pressure you into anything. But these are the words that I should have told you a while ago, even though I know that my feelings will not be reciprocated.

You deserve more, so much more that I can offer you, but, if anything, I hope my words will allow you to see yourself the way I see you.

Yours, if you’ll have me,

Tav

Astarion licked his lips and folded the letter up with shaking fingers. He was not used to this. This raw honesty and emotion. But then again, what else did he expect from her? She was a foolish, silly creature, so careless with her heart. Because falling for him and trusting him was an objectively stupid thing to do. He was almost tempted to march straight to her tent and tell her exactly how much of an idiot she was to write him this- this- He wasn’t even sure what to call this.

He allowed himself a humorless laugh. Because he knew that he was being a coward. The ball was in his court now. She did her part, and it was up to him to tell her how he felt. But tell her what exactly?

She stated it quite clearly that she did not expect anything in return. The sweet, selfless fool that she was. She just wanted him to let her care for him. It wasn’t much to ask. In fact, it was the bare minimum. It was much less than she deserved. Yes, the right thing to do now was to smile, thank her and tell her that they had their fun and it was time to end this. They were best of as comrades in arms, as friends. Sure, Tav would be upset for a while, but not for too long. There would be many who would most enthusiastically offer to warm her bedroll and more.

And thus, armed with the noble intent of letting her go, Astarion stood and opened the flap of his tent. The camp was quiet, all lights were out, even the light in her tent. But Astarion could hear the staccato of Tav’s heart, no doubt turning restlessly in her bedroll, wondering what he thought of her confession.

He slipped quietly into her tent and lay down next to her, strong arms snaking around her middle and pulling her close. He buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath before moving it aside to lay a kiss on the back of her neck. He felt her release a shuddering breath and gradually relax. And apparently it was just that easy. They didn’t have to say anything. And whatever noble intentions of letting Tav go to a more deserving lover he had prior to coming to her tent were now squashed by a selfish desire to have her all to himself. He was never a benevolent, altruistic person in the past, so why start now?

Tomorrow.

He would tell her tomorrow. All of it. About his plan, about his great, foolproof plan that fell through so spectacularly. And then he would hope that she would have him even after knowing the full extent of his deceit. Because although this was not love, it couldn’t possibly be, he wanted to find out where it would lead them. He needed to find out what this was. And if this was his only chance of findings happiness, he would be damned if he let her go to another.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna,

@dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue

[anincompletelist]

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | fic rec fridays ]

hi all! :D I have slowly but steadily been knocking things off of my tbr list, a few classics and a few newer fics, and they've been AMAZING! as per usual I wanted to share before the list gets too long for next time!

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

happy new year and happy reading y'all! <3

Have you ever been alone in a crowded room? | @hgejfmw-hgejhsf | T+ | 5k

When the Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Year's Eve Party is interrupted by a security threat, Henry, Pez, Nora, June, and Alex find themselves locked in the White House library for their own protection with nothing but time, a few bottles of champagne, and some lighthearted conversation, until a single question threatens to change everything for Henry.

(+ read their first au fic here ahh!)

muscle memory | @dumbpeachjuice | E | 30k

It's been ten years since Alex was in London to stage a PR friendship with Henry after ruining the royal wedding. It's also been ten years since Alex dropped to his knees in front of Henry in a Kensington Palace kitchen. But now Henry's in the Hamptons for the summer, and who should he bump into? None other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, who happens to be working in New York all summer long.

You Are the Wave I Could Never Tame | bleedingballroomfloor | E | 12k

That should be it. Henry is doing his job; the pool is getting cleaned, and Alex shouldn’t think anything more of it. Then why does he feel the slightest bit of disappointment when he walks back to the pool house and Henry isn’t there? Or, the pool boy Henry AU that I couldn't stop thinking about until I wrote it.

if evil, why so cute? | @everwitch-magiks | E | 5k

Alex’s cat hates Alex, but loves Henry, the Bookstagram influencer who’s on vacation in Alex’s quiet seaside town. And while Alex is pretty salty about his grumpy cat’s inexplicable affection for a complete stranger, he must admit he can see the appeal; Henry is fucking gorgeous. It’s why Alex follows him on Instagram in the first place. It's just, Alex had never thought he’d be officially introduced to Henry by his own goddamn cat. Or: Henry takes a two-week vacation to a seaside cabin with the intent to read a lot of books. Instead, he has a lot of sex.

Just like that | @myheartalivewrites | E | 10k

When Henry comes home from a date frustrated by the guy’s lack of expertise, Alex starts having thoughts. And then, because he’s Alex, he sticks his big foot in his even bigger mouth.

(@myheartalivewrites listen I fell down a rabbit hole ok and if I could rec your entire ao3 here I would -- OH WAIT I CAN)

In His Wildest Dreams | @myheartalivewrites | E | 11k

Set in and around the Henry bonus chapter, this is a story about Henry and Alex’s hectic schedules, family appearances etc. pulling them apart, and about what starts to happen between them, in the quiet of night: their sleeping bodies turning to each other, finding their sweet spots and opening up. And Alex and Henry learning a lot about each other in the process

Be Worthy Love, and Love Will Come | @sparklepocalypse | E | 30k

"For Christmas this year, all I would like is a best friend who doesn’t mind too much that I’m a prince. Most of my classmates poke fun because of who I am, or treat me like I’m too special to be their friend. I want a best friend who knows me as much as my family does and still likes me. I know that you can’t wrap a best friend up in a box and put it under the tree, but you’re magic so you know the best way to bring one." (Movieverse canon divergence; Prince Henry, age 8, writes to Father Christmas wishing for a best friend. A few weeks later, he finds one.)

A Picture on Your Corkboard | bleedingballroomfloor | M | 23k

It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.

I want to mark my skin (it is paper thin) | @violetbaudelaire-quagmire | M | 10k

To: alex@biconicink.com From: hjfox@rocketmail.co.uk Subj: Tattoo Reference Attached: 1 file (orionsketch.jpg) Hello, Attached you’ll find a line art drawing of the constellation Orion. The shoulder blade is the intended location. Best, H.J. Fox [OR: It's a Tattoo Shop AU!]

(Dil)Do It Yourself | @happiness-of-the-pursuit | E | 16k

“Listen,” Nora starts, turning her body once more so that she’s sitting sideways in the chair with her legs thrown across the armrest. “I did the math. There’s a 79% chance you’re gonna become a slut to the power of the prostate, and while we’re not dating anymore, it’s my duty as your fellow slutty bisexual to get this party started.” Or, when Nora drags Alex to a holiday dildo workshop, he doesn’t expect to find someone to use it with.

just a figure of speech | @congee4lunch | E | 17k

“Like I said: Alphas really don’t know how to fuck.” “And like I said,” Alex sets down his mug and steps closer to Henry. “I can fuck and I know how to fuck you so well, you’ll see stars, baby.” [henry, an omega, hasn’t had good sex in a long time. as his alpha roommate and friend, alex can help with that. in a totally platonic bro way, of course]

+

saving some for next rec, I'll see you all then! enjoy, and remember to show support if you did! <3

xx