#you will either fall in or get drag by something from the pit

[secondrate-lich]

I wouldn't recommend looking inside, not because of the horrors. The chances of falling inside grow exponentially to how funny it would be.

we visited one of mentors friends and I gotta say their tower is pretty cool she's got an endless pit room

[ddejavvu]

this is depraved, but grinding on logan’s happy trail to get off 🫢

Hands Free - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni, mean!logan, drinking, don't like don't read.

You've caught Logan at a bad time. The surly mutant is a complicated man, and one with less psychological damage than him might be eager to whip it out whenever, but Logan isn't. He's busy brooding, and he's not to be interrupted when he's got a bottle in one hand and a cigar in the other.

But you need him. There's a pit in your belly that's only made worse by the scowl on his face, and your cunt aches beneath your now-slick panties for something to envelop. You're desperate for Logan to fuck you, but there's no way you'll convince him if he's not in the mood.

"I can feel you staring," He grumbles, eyes still cast to the floor as he takes another swig of burning liquor, "What do you want?"

There's no polite way to say you.

"Uhm," You shift on your feet, thighs clenched, "I'm just feeling- I'm a little, um, I-"

"Spit it out."

"I need you." You breathe, ashamed by the sentence, but Logan's face remains untouched, nothing moving but the lingering smoke from his smoldering cigar.

"I'm not in the mood." He grunts, like it isn't obvious.

"I- I know." You fall awkwardly silent again, rising onto your tiptoes and falling back to your heels. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. Up-

"Don't make a mess." He shifts in the chair, lowering his hips until they're level with his abdomen, offering you the best seat in the house.

He's shirtless, which means that if you can't have his cock, or his fingers, you can get the next best thing. A combination of the friction from the waistband of his jeans, and his toned abs, blanketed with coarse, wiry hair.

You mount him eagerly, which isn't hard to do seeing as his chair has no arms. It's got a back so that he can lean against it, but your support system is his chest, where you firmly plant your hands in preparation to get yourself off.

There's a dark line of hair that trails from the bottom of his navel and disappears beneath his waistband, flanked on either side with a sharp line of muscle that tapers down towards his cock in a V. His body is a work of art, and you only wish his equally gorgeous face was pointed your direction.

No matter- you won't push. You're lucky he's letting you get off on his lap, you'll take what you can get.

"Easy," He grumbles, rocked by the sudden jerk of your hips. As you settle into a steady rhythm you realize you've already failed his one directive of not making a mess, but there's no way to stop or slow the steady stream of slick that's pouring from your weeping cunt. It's sobbing, slobbering, begging for a cock, but you drag it flush against Logan's abs and mat his happy trail down with your translucent arousal.

"One fuckin' job," He gripes, reaching down to swipe two fingers through the slick that's glistening on his stomach as you find better friction near the waistband of his jeans. The texture of the denim is rough, and you realize with giddy desperation that he's getting hard in his pants despite his insistence that he wasn't in the mood.

He sticks his fingers in his mouth for a taste, his cigar left behind in its ashtray on the side table. He doesn't relinquish the bottle, but he takes equal sips of that and of the mess you're making on his abs.

Finally, thanks to the sizeable bulge in Logan's jeans, you're able to hump your way to completion on his stomach. It's not hard, considering you'd been achingly horny before, but without something inside of you your release feels empty and wasted. You'd use your fingers if you could, but you can't move your hands or you'd faceplant on Logan's chest, and you don't want to invade his space any further in case he decides your privileges have been revoked.

"Poor thing." He murmurs when your hips slow and you're panting against his chest. You glance at his face but he's staring at your cunt, not at you, "She's so hungry."

It takes him one, two, three seconds to reach for his belt, "Well, c'mon. Up now, there y'go." As you shimmy up his abdomen, slicking his happy trail up with your release once more. As soon as he's able to free his cock he slides a hand under your ass, boosting you up so that you're finally able to sink down onto his red-tipped, leaking cock.

"Jesus, she's sucking me in," He grunts, his voice gruff and ragged, "How long were you waiting to ask me?"

"Too long." You whine, pussy already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now in utter bliss from finally being penetrated after all that teasing, "I- hnngh! My toys don't work anymore. They're- they're nothing like you, I can't use them. I can't ever finish."

Logan scoffs, still in a mood as sour as the liquor on his breath, but his hands find their place on your waist as he helps bounce you on his cock, "Shame. Those were supposed to keep you busy. Guess I'll have to do it then, hm?"

You nod vigorously against the crook of Logan's neck, your nose buried where his neck meets his shoulder, and where sweat accumulates sticky on his skin. You lick it up, and Logan hisses against the mouth of his bottle as he takes another swig.

"Fine." He grumbles, butting the bottle up to your head and forcing it against your lips, "Take this, take a nice big- there you go. That'll make you sleepy," He vows, and the head rush comes just like he'd warned. His hips begin shifting, circling slightly in gyrations that only add to the pleasure of bouncing on his dick, "And this'll knock you out, crazy."

[dejwrld]

⤷‧₊˚ could you imagine having a wet dream about your hot neighbor?

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, written with black reader in mind, pet names (good girl), oral fixation, oral (f.receiving), dirty talk, biting kink, backshots/doggystyle position, spanking, anal play (i mean he put a thumb in it that's it), marking kink, profanity, i think we should write smut about men in explicit mangas some more, mentions of a wet dream, wet dream is in italics, slight pervert!reader, repost from old account, mdni

You couldn't help but stare at him when you saw him. You remembered how your eyes lit up with curiosity seeing him move into the apartment next to yours. An apartment with many tenants who moved in and soon quickly moved out. A rumor traveled around that a ghost resided in that apartment, but you never cared to gossip about said rumor. You just went to work and came home. It was a sad cycle that you’ve done Monday through Friday. Occasionally when you would be leaving for work, you'd see him. The bags under his eyes are as heavy as he’s taking his trash out to put into the apartment’s trash bin. His whole demeanor oozed sex appeal even though he would be the type of man your parents would usher you to stay away from. 

He was a handsome man, and when you laid down to sleep, you only seethed in jealousy, hearing faint moans through the thin walls. A regular neighbor would march over and bang on the door to tell their neighbor to keep it down—but with you, it felt like your body was stuck. You stared at the ceiling indulging in the sound of the way he pleasured this woman. That jealous pit twists in your stomach, realizing that you have most likely been crushing on a taken man this whole time. But it didn’t make sense, you hadn’t seen a woman enter or exit his place when you were around. Either or, you still thought that it should have been you to have the privilege of cooing out his name the way this woman was. 

You could do better. You know you can. 

You may have been in a significant drought, but you were positive your plush lips could kiss him better. Your mouth could wrap around his cock better. You could move your hips while riding him better. But then again, this woman had to have something you didn’t if he was making her feel like this every night. 

You took your pillow over your head to scream into it. The heated feeling between your thighs caused you to roll over on your side to force yourself to sleep. You were only torturing yourself by continuing to be a pervert and listening to him pleasure another woman. Before you could utter a string of complaints to yourself, your body finally relaxed for you to fall into a deep slumber—a poor attempt at ignoring the walls through the paper-thin walls. 

Your body stirred in your sleep as you felt something under the thin lilac-colored duvet that covered your body. You felt something wet upon your thighs as if somebody was nibbling on the flesh on the inside area of your thighs. You attempted to squirm tiredly, but the grip upon you grew tighter. With your hand rubbing the sleep out of your eye, you lifted the duvet, and your eyes nearly bulged out your head seeing him. His eyes filled with so much hunger it sent a chill down your spine. With the oversized t-shirt you usually sleep in pushed up to your waist, you watched as the flat of his tongue glided upward and downward on the clothed part of where your pussy lips were. Even though your underwear was blocking the pleasure feeling of his tongue—you still felt yourself grow wet at the feeling. 

Your next-door neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi didn’t waste any time dragging your fusion-colored panties down your smooth legs to get a taste of you. The flat of his tongue dragged across your puffy pussy lips just to finally relinquish in the taste of you. His darkened eyes met with yours through the little light that shimmered through the window from the moon. You relaxed in his touch as soon as you felt the first flicker on your clit. Your breathing hitches in your throat before you cough up moans and your fingers tangle into his black hair. Before your eyes lolly in the back of your head, the last glimpse you got was of Totsumoto’s eyes shifting close as he finally wanted to focus on his main task. 

Totsumoto’s tongue glides around the entrance of your drooling cunt, and he even could feel you clench, feeling him teasing you. Your thighs were seizing close due to the intense feeling of him between your thighs, but he just pinned them back open. You even heard him moan as he continued to eat his meal. He didn’t leave a drop of slick for him not to savor. The blood rushing to his cock with each kitten lick he’s making on your pussy or each flicker and suck on your sensitive bud. Your juices stained his face, but he could care less when it was a mouthwatering meal right before him. 

Your body arched off the mattress as you failed to run away from your pending orgasm. Your stomach began to form the most satisfying knots for Totsumoto to untie, but he pulled it away. He shortly let his lips drag kisses and bites on the inside of your thighs. He removed himself away from your pussy with a satisfying pop. 

“I want you to cum on this dick, Y/N.” His voice rasps. “I know you want the same thing, right?” Totsumoto tilts his head to the side slightly as if he’s letting his head rest on your bite marks-covered thigh, and his eyes never stop looking at you. 

Totsumoto’s words hit you like a truck with each continued kiss and bite. Your brain felt like complete mush as you realized he snatched your orgasm away from you in the blink of an eye. With his cock on hard, he kisses up your body until his face is just inches away from yours. Him being on top of you but also sure not to squash you. You could feel his cock on the inside of your thigh. Just by how it felt—you could tell it was fat. You’ve had your perverted thoughts during a hot morning imagining how his cock looked. Was it long? Was it girthy? Was he circumcised? How pretty was the tip? You’ve asked yourself that constantly. 

He’ll inch closer to your lips. Through your stare of desperation for him, you watched him lick his lips—savoring in the aftertaste of your pussy before he spoke once more, “How’d you want it? Since you’ve been a good girl while I was between your thighs….” 

Teasingly, he’s letting his teeth nibble on your plump lower lip instead of giving you the satisfaction of a heated kiss. 

“I’ll let you choose.” He adds. 

And that’s how you whine up on all fours with a perfect arch and your cunt eager to swallow Totsumoto’s cock. You figured that if you were to do missionary, you’d become cock drunk for the gentleman immediately. His callous hands grabbed at your waist, dragging you closer to him; you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. “Just relax, pretty, sure you fit around me perfectly,” Totsumoto assured.

He’s collecting saliva in his hand to coat his girthy cock with, even though he could see how wet you were for him through his dark locs that fell in his face. His hand gripped your waist, similar to how a person would with some bike handles. He completely braced himself for the waterfall he was about to experience. First, he’s shoving his tip in—slowly, just so you can get used to it, savor it. A wonderful feeling he could get used to. Second, he’s gradually shoving move of his cock inside you. This time he’s taking note of how your manicured fingers grasped at the sheets. 

“I thought you could take my cock, hm?” He’ll teasingly ask. 

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’s immediately plowing forward. No regard for getting used to his size when the wet cunt in between your thighs was enthusiastic for more. You’ll moan out his name like a song you knew from heart. The lewd sound of heated skin slapping against each other adding on to your tune of moans. It created a sweet melody that Totsumoto enjoyed hearing. It motivated him to fuck just a little better, a little harder. 

Your pillow was beginning to stain with your salty tears with each ram of his hips. You only had the opportunity to let out broken moans that bounced upon the thin walls of your bedroom. Your hand went back behind you to slow down his abrupt thrusting, but that only led to him swatting your hand away as if it were a fruit fly flying around a garbage can. At this point, you had lost count of how many times the two of you had cum. The sticky mess that imprinted your thighs didn’t stop Totsumoto from continuing what he was doing. The white ring that decorated his cock only turned him on even more. His eyes lazily droop to gaze at your pussy, swallowing his cock. It was an intoxicating feeling how you were clutching around him. Which each pull back on his cock—he could feel you tremble. Hurriedly, wanting to run away from his jabs but ever so eager for him to fill you up some more. 

“You were waiting to feel my cock weren’t you?” He growled lowly. He noticed you didn’t answer his question, only purring out desperate moans. The dark-haired male took that as a challenge. His large hands that once were on your plush love handles would press down your back, ensuring that you wouldn’t break the perfect arch. 

Totsumoto’s fingertips trace alongside the flesh of your ass. His hand slaps at it, and his actions' ripple effect causes his cock to twitch inside you. His body felt like he was running a fever so hot that he could most likely faint. His jet-black strands of hair were sticking to his sweat-coated forward, but even if his hair drooped low in front of his intoxicating deadpan eyes—he still couldn’t take them away from the mess between the two of your bodies. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy as his body finally overheated due to his lewd actions. 

You knew that the older gentleman was so close to cumming. His grip on your waist tightens, completely entrapping you from running away from his brash thrusting. It took you by shock feeling his thumb insert instantly into your asshole. Your body tensed up, and he leaned down to place the sloppiest set of kisses on your back. “It’s just a thumb unless you want it to be something else.” He hungrily said. 

His words sent a frightening yet exhilarating chill down your spine. Your fingers grasped the crumpled sheets on your mattress as you met his thrusting halfway until the both of you were a cumming mess. You’ve had your fair share of sleeping with men. From horrible hookups to the best lovemaking, no one ever made you feel like this when you were orgasming. You felt like you were on the highest cloud attempting to climb down all by yourself. Your limbs quivered with each sloppy cum coated slam upon your ass, and your moans became so frantic that someone would have thought you were speaking in tongue. The messy mess that imprinted the two of your skin wasn’t as bad as the mess when his cock hesitantly removed itself from you. Totsumoto’s thick cum dripped out of your cunt as he let your body collapse on the mattress below you like a personal used fleshlight. You could hear his breathing returning to normal as he let his fingertips drag alongside your sweat-coated body parts. 

“Sleep tight. You’re going to need it for when I return.” His words came out like a whisper.

When his fingertips left your body, you felt cold without his touch. You were utterly addicted to his touch, and you needed more. However, your shaken limbs and depleted body said otherwise.

Exhaustion overcame your body as the only thing that could be heard in the room was the sound of you trying to control your breathing. Your eyes became droopy, and you realized that he just gave you the best dick you could imagine, that you instantly fell into a deep slumber.

The annoying sound of your alarm caused your eyes to open instantly. Your phone was practically yelling at you to get up to start your day. When you pressed the snooze button on your phone, you glanced at the time. You still have a couple more minutes—perhaps you can attempt to fall asleep to continue the dream. Your panties already were damp, and your nipples hardened in anticipation due to it, but no matter how comfortable you got or how tightly squeezed shut your eyes were—you couldn’t fall back into that deep slumber. There you were, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him, and once again, the horrible feeling of him not being able to pleasure you outside of your perverted wet dreams swirled around in your mind. 

A knock could be heard from your front door, causing your thoughts to disappear— just like the dream you had last night. You climbed out of bed to answer the door, mumbling coherent words about who could be visiting you so early. It was most likely another salesman that wanted to sell something. You opened your front door, and all the annoyance in your body disappeared. There, your neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi stood at your door holding a box. 

Your words were stuck in your throat as your fingers toyed with the ends of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. Totsumoto’s eyes traveled down your body, staring at your boobs, and he took a mental note of how your nipples poked through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing. He cleared his throat to clear out the tension in the air. 

“The delivery guy put this outside my door, and it belongs to you.” Totsumoto’s deep voice croaked out. 

“Thank you.” Your arms extended for him to drop the package in your arms.

Instead, he wiggled past the small gap between you and your cracked door and directly placed your package in your house. He walked out of your apartment and glanced down at you. The scent of him went by you, and you could feel your knees weaken. 

“I’m going to get going now. If you need anything, just knock on my door.” His lips form a sly smile before he walks down to his apartment. 

You closed the door when he was no longer in your eyesight. Your back pressed upon the door as you slowly slid down it—if only he could get you the one thing you wanted the most. 

And that was for your wet dream to come true vividly. 

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 5 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Not edited : 10k words !!!

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

Katsuki and his closest friend decided to make a tradition of camping during the summer. The group mainly just inviting themselves in on his hiking trips and making it a bigger deal. You remember at first that he looked at you for help, only finding that you were already discussing with Mina about sharing a tent. You and the girls all shared a tent that year, in celebration of graduation.

But now, only a year later, the tradition stuck. It was beginning of August and the group of you were all getting packed. Preparing to meet at the camping site at separate times due to schedule errors. It was a small campground in all, you only knew of it if a local told you, so you had no idea how Katsuki got on the good side of a local, but he did. It was barely in service, just enough for phone calls, but Katsuki had a strict no phone rule.

Despite him being a grump about everything, the campground is beautiful, a lake in the middle of it all but surrounded by many different hiking routes. You were excited to spend this camping trip next him rather than the girls, curious about all the ins-and-outs of this campground.

You often tagged along next to him for his hikes, it was the main way you guys spent your off days. He always needed something to do, and you wanted to be near him, so you followed.

It created countless stories between you two, either inside jokes about one falling over a tree or just the deep conversations you shared as you hiked the trail.

After the hour drive out of the city, you were met with the lush campgrounds. It was just as breathtaking as last year. Just being in view of it, lifted a weight off your shoulders. It felt like you could breathe better overall.

The two of you were the first ones there. Arriving just before sunset. The rest of the group said they'd be here soon. You attempted to convince Katsuki to wait so you could share a ride with Kirishima and Mina, but he was too impatient.

Once your foot was out of the car, Katsuki started handing you things to set up. Giving you some of the tents he brought and to place them near the already made fire pit. He brought most of the camping supplies for the group, everyone else would just have to bring the things that they wanted.

You decided to wait to put up the tents until others got here, unsure of the pairing. So you and Katsuki got to work on putting up the fold up tables and some chairs out. Grabbing the ice chest filled of your food and setting it near the camp fire, which Katsuki quickly had going. Thankfully the campsite sold firewood, so you had no worries of running out.

The rumble of Kirishima's super duty truck made you turn you're head. Soon enough Mina barreled out of the truck and came running to you.

"Hi," she squeeze you into a hug, "Haven't seen you since the party!" You squeezed her back, it has been a while since you've seen her, the party was almost a month ago.

"Of course you guys show up after we finish setting everything up," Katsuki grumbled, dragging his feet as he walked to Kirishima's truck to help grab ice chests.

Kirishima gave a cheeky smile, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sorry man, I'm free to help now though."

"Whatever," Katsuki scoffed.

Kirishima gave you a wave, "Anything I can help with?"

You looked around, finally pushing Mina away from the hug, "We haven't set up any tents, so maybe that? I just don't know who's sharing and stuff yet."

Kirishima and Mina shared a quick glance, turning a shy red in their cheeks. "Well," Mina dragged out, "E and I are sharing, Bakugo and you are sharing, so we can start there."

"Wait," you paused them confused, embarrassed about sharing a tent with Katsuki.

"Huh?" Kirishima turned towards the tents laying on the ground, "Denki and Sero can share, I doubt they mind. They can set up another if hey have that big of an issue."

"We only packed three air mattresses," you pointed out.

"They've shared a bed before, it's fine. They're bros," Kirishima shrugged. He wasn't getting the point. You looked to find were Katsuki went and saw him grabbing stuff from Kirishima's truck, not having heard a lick of the conversation.

By the time you look back over to Kirishima, him and Mina were already off to the side of the campsite and setting up their tent. Mina struggling to stand as she laughed, hitting Kirishima with the tent pole constantly.

It was enduring to see them mess around, especially since they were finally getting ahold of their relationship. Both of them have been struggling with a label since the second year.

You looked back at Katsuki, who grabbed all he needed from the truck and was now crouched and working on the fire again. You walked over to stand next to him, bumping his shoulder lightly with your hip to get his attention, "We needa set up our tent."

He scrunched his eye brows, looking over to were the tent were then to were Kirishima was. "They sharing?" he nodded his head in their direction. You hummed, rocking on the ball of your feet, stuffing your hands in your pockets. This felt odd.

" Okay," he stood up, brushing the remains of wood of his hands. You stepped away slightly, giving him room to stand without bumping into you. "Where do ya' want it?"

You looked around the campsite. It was quite big, plenty of space for anything. Trees lined the dirt center that was meant for parking cars and the rest of the camping supplies. Where the trees lined the dirt, there was plenty of open grass plots for a tent. Kirishima and Mina already taking one of the grass plots near the cars. So you walked to the other side, leaving the ones in the middle for the boys to chose.

Katsuki picked up the tent and followed you, dropping the tent bag where you stopped. It was quite the distance from the cars so you would have to move the car briefly so you could blow up the air mattress.

You went to unzip the bag, handing Katsuki the poles to connect together while you pulled out the actual tent to space out. Switching jobs so he could anker it to the ground. You quickly saw why Mina was laughing so hard. The pole you were connecting broke apart in one spot and swung to hit Katsuki in the back of the head.

He wiped his head around, "The fuck?" he barked at you. You hunched over laughing, his face was so mad, it was as if you took a dogs bone. "Asshat," he grumbled, turning to finish the last anker. Before snatching the pole from your hand and threading it through the tent. Ordering you to help connect it on the other side despite you still laughing slightly at him.

The two of you did the other side without much issue, putting the rain cover up as well as threading the pole over the door to keep it steady. He quickly trudged off to bring the car. Mina joining your side as you two watched Katsuki set up the air mattress. "I hate tents," she grumbled.

You looked at her tent, seeing it messily set up, all their stuff being thrown in as well, fully set up. "Why?" you asked.

"Can't really make noise if y'know what I mean," she wiggled her brows, nudging her arm into yours.

"I better not hear that," you made a face of disgust.

"Same to you," Mina laughed, "Though I am curious as t-"

"Don't," you raised your hand to stop her, "I don't even want to know."

Katsuki called you over to the tent, currently fighting with the air mattress.

"What even happened?" you laughed the second you peaked inside the tent, he was currently struggling to get the air pump connected to the air mattress.

"Can't find the hole," he sighed frustrated.

Mina erupted into laughter, "That's what she said!"

You stifled a laugh, moving Katsuki to the side as you pushed the mattress into a better angle. Getting the mattress blown up easily. Katsuki getting out of the tent to place the bedding and your guys stuff in the tent to the side. It was a large tent, plenty of space for you to stand up straight, Katsuki only had to slouch slightly to not hit his head in the middle.

He moved the car and left you to set up the bedding once the mattress was fully inflated it. Knowing it go cold at night you threw a large open sleeping bag over the top of the mattress to sleep on top of, knowing that the air mattress would be insanely cold otherwise. Just throwing your pillows at the end of the bed and then half-assly throwing heavy blankets on top before shuffling out of the tent, hearing Sero and Denki pull up, music blasting.

Katsuki was instantly barking orders at them.

"Chill man, we brought the booze," Denki laughed, opening the truck and pulling out a cooler, Sero doing the same.

"How fucking much are you planning to drink?" Katsuki went wide eyed at the two full coolers of booze.

"We'll probably have to buy more," Sero shrugged.

"Huh? How?" Katsuki looked dumb founded.

"I mean," Sero pointed and count the group, "there six of us, five of us wanting to get drunk nightly this weekend. We all need to drink a lot to get drunk as well."

Katsuki whiped his head to you, "You drinkin'?"

You shrugged, "I mean yeah- wait Sero?"

"Yeah?" he looked up from where he was fishing a beer out of the cooler.

"Did you pack my wine?" you stepped closer to him.

"In the car," he nodded towards the car. You quickly skipping over and grabbing a bottle to drink for the night. Katsuki was busy yelling at everyone to watch how much they drunk, they still had work monday.

Mina groaned at him, lulling her head over to you, "Can you get the stick out of his ass? He's acting like he hasn't been laid in years."

Your face flushed but you laughed to cover it, "I think it's too far up there for me to help."

"Fuck off," he barked at the two of you, causing you to laugh harder.

The group was standing around the fire, Katsuki making sure it stayed steady. Once you got the wine bottle open you joined them, taking the seat next to Katsuki, stretching your legs onto his arm rest of the chair, knowing he wouldn't mind.

"Y'know, sometimes I forget you two are dating," Denki point at finger between you and Katsuki, that same hand also bringing a beer up to his mouth to take a swig. "I only remember when you do shit like that," he gestured to your legs.

"What do you mean?" you tilted your head.

"Well he'd kill anyone else for that," Denki shrugged.

"Ah yes, you bagged quite a man, one that'd kill some one from breathing wrong," Mina laughed at you.

You flushed, embarrassed that even the ones closest to you barely saw the relationship. You looked over to see how Katsuki took the joke, seeing him staring intently at the fire. Poking at it with a fire stick.

"What's our plan for tomorrow?" you looked around the group, taking a sip of wine straight from the bottle. Wanting to skip past any talk about your relationship.

"I'm going for a hike," Katsuki said, setting down the fire stick and leaning into his chair, arms cross.

"Okay," you dragged out, seeing if anyone would add their plans. When no one added you continued, "So Kats and I are going for a hike in the morning, then we'll be back and we can all go to the lake?" you suggested.

"Sounds good, I would go with but I need sleep, works been rough," Kirishima sent an apology to Katsuki, only to be shrugged off.

"Have you been taking better care of your support gear?" you nagged at him, annoyed about the amount of times you've fixed it just this month.

"Yes mom," he groaned.

"Oh shut your mouth," you scolded. The group laughed at your bickering with Kirishima.

The group quickly fell into an banter, all thankful they got the weekend off from hero work. Glad they could escape out of the city. It was refreshing. The view of the camp ground and their faces. They looked a least a little more carefree than normal. Tonight was the calm of the camping trip, tomorrow night would be all chatter and drunk games. It was only Friday night and you guys would be staying till Sunday, with work on Monday. It was a short get away but it was all the agencies could agree too. Everyone already ate their meals during the drive here, so all that was to do was set up.

By the time the fire was out, Sero and Denki still hadn't put their tent up. They'd have to do it drunk and in the dark. Katsuki was already well past tired and demanded to get up early, so you couldn't join them. So you had Kirishima promise to watch for them.

With the rest of the group taken care of, you and Katsuki walked off into your tent. Well he walked, you stumbled and grabbed onto his arm, drunk from drinking the whole wine bottle. He unzipped the door of the tent, holding it open for you and closing it behind himself.

"What side y'want?" Katsuki huffed, reaching for his backpack.

You looked at the options for a moment, "The one near the tent wall, I don't wanna be by the door."

"Ight," he was still digging through his bag. You walked over to your side, just about to sit down before he yelled at you, "The fuck y'doing? Change your clothes, I don't want our bed to smell like wine and campfire."

"But you literally smell like a campfire," you pointed out, "And I don't smell like wine."

"I saw you spill it over yourself, and I don't care. Change," he ordered.

"How am I supposed to change with you in here," you grumbled back at him.

"I'll turn around and so will you," he pointed out blandly.

So after grabbing your pjs, you both turned around and changed. You felt the urge to turn and catch a look but you knew that it'd be all you thought of. You laughed slightly to yourself, amused that you've been dating for three years but have yet to change near each other.

"What?"

Your head almost spun to look at him, but you remembered before you did, "Nothin."

"Why'd you laugh?" he asked differently.

You sighed, " Just the fact we are turned away from each other right now," you shrugged your pj shirt over your head, unhooking your bra from underneath it, just in case.

"Want to watch me get naked?" he teased.

A hot wave flashed through you, "Shuddup," you coughed out after a moment. Quickly putting on your sleep shorts. "You done yet?"

"Have been for a minute," he replied. With the okay to turn around, you quickly climbed into bed. Only then did it sink in that you'd be sharing a bed for the first time. Seeing him lift the covers and joined you excited you. It was a first, and it was thrilling, even if it was just sleep.

"Y'know," you moved closer to where he got comfortable, "We've never shared a bed."

"I'm aware," he peered down at you. He had his head rested on the pillow, arms above his head as he laid on his hands.

"It's weird," you whispered, like you were admitting a secret. You moved yourself to lay onto your stomach, propping yourself up with your arms.

"How?" he asked softly, matching your tone. He adjusted himself, getting into a better position to look at you. Even in the dark, you could see his vibrant red eyes peering at you.

"Like," you looked away from him, overwhelm, picking at the blanket that was over your shoulders, "Feels different, we live together but we don't share a bed, but now we are. Feels like a new step without the other foundations in a way."

"What other foundations would we need?"

"Well none I guess, but we didn't choose this one fully," you shrugged.

"I knew we were going to share, did you not?" he nudged your calf with his leg, grabbing your attention.

"Not really, I'm happy we are, just," you paused, "I don't know."

You heard Denki and Sero laughing from their tent, clearly in a struggle to set it up.

"I get it," Katsuki said after a moment, "Feels like we are doing things in a weird order."

"Yeah," you yawned.

"Go to bed," he order softly.

"Goodnight," you muttered, plopping your head onto your pillow.

"Night."

---

Katsuki woke you up just before sunrise, slightly shaking your arm till you woke up. He already has his hiking bag made, filled with stuff for the both of you. Shoving you a granola bar and a protein shake before he left you to change.

After slipping into some pants, aware of the brisk mornings. Katsuki having warned you while you packed. With your legs warm, you threw on a tank-top with a hoodie over it. Tying your shoes before fighting your way out of the tent, meeting Katsuki at the end of the campsite road.

"Finally," he immediately stepped off, following the tree line. Having you jog slightly to catch up to him.

"Do you sleep okay?" you questioned, worried you kicked him or something in your sleep.

"Yeah," he replied. Well, at least he didn't sleep bad. "You?" he looked over at you briefly, before looking back up, turning into a trail that went out of the main camping area.

"Yep, best in a while actually," you followed him.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, trailing through the forest. The trail seemed like it faded in and out, clearly not used often enough to keep a path.

Leaves brushed past your pants as you walked through, following each step he made, keeping up with his steady pace. He often looked back to make sure you were still behind him before he made a turn slightly off path, getting yourselves deeper into the forest. It was a steady up hill for the most part, up until you hit a rocky area with a steady climb.

Katsuki easily jumped up the first step, even with it at waist height, reaching down a hand to help pull you up. He let you walk in front of him from then on, just pointing you towards where to go. Letting you climb up the slight rocks, prepared to catch you if you fell, even if it wasn't higher than five or so feet. Soon enough you were standing taller than the rest of the camp, being able to see the lake and even our campsite from the top of the rocks you climb.

"This is," you let out a breath, "wow."

"See, if you didn't get wasted last time I could of shown you then," he reminded.

You ignored him, watching how the sky was slowly gaining color from the sunrise, a faint pink and orange hue barely kissy the horizon.

"This isn't even the best part," he tugged on your arm, lightly dragging you away from the cliff edge. He went in the opposite direction from the cliff, walking through the small forest that coated the top of the rocky mountain you were on. He held unto your hand until you heard the faint noise of running water. Pulling you in front of him as he guided you to the small pond that ran off the cliff edge and into a small creek.

"Why didn't you drag me with last time," you slapped his arm lightly, walking over to the water, crouching down to feel the water. It was freezing.

"You were bitchin'," he shrugged. Setting his backpack down near a tree.

You started untying your shoes, taking them off along with your socks. On a whim deciding to unbutton your pants.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. You turned your head toward him, his face was flushed as he looked away.

"I'm getting in," you shrugged.

"You're wearing a swimsuit?" he looked back over, still red in the face.

"Nah," you pushed your pants down, "I just wear my underwear, it'll dry."

"It's fucking freezing in that water," he pointed out, looking away once again.

"Scared to join?" you teased, folding your pants and setting them on top of your shoes, doing the same with your hoodie and tank top.

"Oh fuck you," he groaned. Not wanting to back out on a challenge, he tugged his shirt and pants off quickly, leaving them on a rock near his shoes. Joining you just as you started stepping into the water.

You flinched at the temperature but forced yourself to fully get in, letting the water reach your shoulders. Hair tied up to stay dry. Katsuki was by your side after a minute.

It was funny to think that last night you changed facing away from each other, but now you were only clad in underwear and in a random pond. It wasn't a first to be around each other in underwear, you've lived together for a little over a year after all.

"Water's not too bad," you commented.

He shot you a glare, "I hate the cold."

"Ice baths are good for you though, lots of health benefits," you chimed, knowing he hated being told something he hated was good.

"Fuck em," he grunted. He let his face fall into a pout as he stared at the water as if it was his enemy. His arms crossed to hold in any warmth. Butterflies filled your stomach as you looked over his feature. He was made but he looked soft. The worries of the hero world gone, if only for a moment. He looked back up at you, "What?" he bit out.

"Nothin'," you shook your head, "Cold?"

"Obviously," he rolled his eyes.

You stepped closer to him, having stuck at arms length from him. "Hug?" you offered.

"How will that help?" he coughed.

"I don't know, body heat?" you stepped closer.

"But you're fucking freezing too," he pointed out.

"Come on, Kats," you held out your arms for him. With a pout of your lip, he groaned and stepped into your arms. Wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you towards him. "See, not to bad," you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He nudged his head into your shoulder, "Shuddup." The tips of his ears stayed red from his blush, the heat from his face warming your neck. "Your warm," he muttered, pulling you impossibly closer, his watch scratching your back lightly.

You scratched at his hair, letting your hands play with the strands at the nape of his neck as you looked around. Soaking in the moment. The sky was slowly waking up, the orange and pinks that were barely visible before, took up the entire sky. A steady blue warming in as well. Katsuki let his shoulders sag into your touch as he pulled his face away, catching your attention.

"You're beautiful," he mumbled, embarrassed as he let his eyes track over your face.

"What's up with you?" you laughed shyly, "All boyfriendy recently."

"Just getting used to things more I guess," his voice was soft, but rough from his daily screaming matches with the boys.

"Took three years?" you pointed out. Watching his eyes as he looked over yours.

"You said I can do what I want right?" he asked, referencing your words from the other week when he kissed you for the first time since graduation.

You flushed, "I did."

He looked over your features again before his eyes fell to your lips. Letting his hand unhook from your waist and gently cup your cheek, just as it had that night. He admired your features for a while, letting his thumb barely trace your bottom lip before he leaned in himself. Letting himself fall into the kiss.

You tilted you head and pushed into your toes, letting yourself get impossible closer to him. Letting your body curve into his, fit alongside his perfectly. You let your hands hold unto his hair, pushing him deeper into him. Grasping onto his hair when you felt his tongue trail alongside your bottom lip. You're mouth falling open, begging him to continue the kiss.

Whining when he pulled away, out of breath and eyes lidded. "You're fine with this?" he asked hoarsely brows still furrowed from how he kissed you.

You just tugged him closer to you in response, locking your lips against his. Luckily, he quickly ran his tongue over your lip again, letting it slide into your mouth slowly. The kiss left a buzz going through your body, making your fingers twitch tighter into his hair, wanting nothing but more. Air could wait. You let your tongue fight with his for a moment, playfully toying with the new feeling of kissing him like this, before you gave in, letting him take over the kiss completely.

His hand dropped away from your face, falling back to your hip and he pulled you closer, fully into him. Groaning lowly when your thigh hit him, it falling between his legs.

The groan snapped you into reality. You were making out with Katsuki, and you felt him against your thigh. Clearly enjoying it. Just in attempt to see his reaction, you move your thigh slightly, making another groan fall from his lips and into your mouth before he pulled away from the kiss. Lazily look down at you, "We should probably stop before we.." he trailed off, his eyes falling on your lips again.

"Yeah," you nodded in agreement, looking down at his lips, plump and rosy from kissing.

Both of you sat in a daze of staring at each other, only breaking out of it when you heard faint talking in the distance.

You quickly scrambled off each other and to your clothes. Throwing them on as quickly as possible, wringing out as much water as possible beforehand. You did not want to be caught half naked in a random pond. It would wreck his hero image.

With clothes thrown on you quickly walked back towards camp, running into the couple you heard from the pond on your way down. Stopping when they asked for a picture with Katsuki. Which he was in a good enough mood to agree to.

After getting out of earshot, you started giggling to yourself. "We are so lucky we heard them."

He laughed breathlessly near you, "Yeah, would of gotten an exclusive photo otherwise."

"Your fan girls would have my head instantly," you added.

"You'd kick their ass."

You smiled at his faith in you, "Thank you, that's what I've been saying. Mei thinks I'm crazy."

After only a few tumbles, you were back at the campsite, letting the laughter from the previous conversation flow out of you. Everyone was awake when you got back. All prepared to head to the lake.

"You guys were out for a while," Mina commented, a hinting tone to her voice, "Why are your clothes wet?"

You looked down at your hoodie, the fabric of your bra having soaked the front of your shirt, just as your underwear soaked your pants. Katsuki was in the same boat.

"I took a dive in the water for a moment," you shrugged, "I'm going to put on a swimsuit, we can head out after."

And you did just that, Katsuki doing the same just after you.

You met up at Mina's side, she was in the middle of teasing Denki for how he applied sunblock.

She eyed you, "So, you guys were gone for a whileee."

"Yeah? We went on a hike?" you asked back, confused at her tone.

"You left at 6, it almost 10," she pointed out. You paled at the realization.

"It was a long walk," you defended.

Denki snorted, "Yeah a long 'walk'," he did air quotes.

Lucky enough, Katsuki was in time to hear that comment and swatted him upside the head. Denki squawking at him.

---

The lake was calm, water a perfect temperature along with the weather. Only a few other campers were at the lake but they were a good distance away. You would be able to mess around with your group without having to worry about being too loud or press getting photos.

You guys had set out chairs next the shore and some coolers, one filled with alcohol and the other having food. When the sunblock was all applied and dried, you and Mina instantly ran in. Her challenging you to a race and easily beating you.

"Mina!" you heard Kirishima shout before he tackled Mina into the water. You stepped back from the two, seeing them actual start to drown each other.

"Hey."

You squeaked, scared of being dunked. Turning to see Sero smirking at you.

"Scared of some water?" he teased.

"I'm scared of being drowned by a pro hero, yes," you turned back to watch Mina and Kirishima start to calm down. Unfortunately seeing them start making lovey eyes and leaning in.

"I'm so thankful you and Bakugo don't do that," Sero cringed, turning away from the site.

Memories from the pond flashed through your mind, shooting a quick glance at Katsuki, who was leaned back in a foldable chair. Legs stretched out and arms crossed over his stomach. Head fully leaded back and face the sky, with a hat blocking his fat from the sun.

"I doubt me and him would ever do that," you agreed, shaking your eyes off of Katsuki.

"You guys were gone for a while this morning," he elbowed you.

You scoffed, "It's a long walk."

"Yeah sure," he laughed, "At least we didn't have to hear it."

"Nothing happened," you shoved him into the water.

Sero started making kissing noises.

"Shut up!" you hushed, looking to see if Katsuki heard. When you aw him lift his hat slightly to peak at you, you jumped Sero. Submerging him under water as you smiled back at Katsuki.

Once he put his hat back over his head you let Sero go.

"I know I'm a hero and everything but damn your strong," Sero laughed, coughing some water out.

"Don't cross me," you jokingly threatened.

"You guys seem to be doing better though, he didn't throw your shoes off his chair last night," Sero commented, voice low so others didn't hear, "Was he just off that party?"

"No, he just doesn't like his hands touched for too long," you shrugged, "He always shakes my hands off after a couple minutes."

Sero hummed, "Well I'm getting a beer, want any?"

"Nah, I'll drink the rest of my wine tonight though," you twisted in the water, letting the water swish near you.

Soon you heard Mina start giggling, so you turned and saw her and Kirishima obviously flirting. "Guys!" faked throwing up, "Get a room."

Mina groaned, "You're just like Bakugo," she stuck her tongue out at you, you doing the same.

Before you saw anything more you decided to bug Katsuki, walking out of the water and grabbing a towel to wrap around you shoulders before walking to his seat. With the new shade you moved his hat off his face.

"Hi," you smiled down at him, happy to be here.

"Hey," he returned, "Why ain't you in the water?"

"Missed you," you shrugged, "you should join us."

He hummed, looks around the lake. "We brought the paddle board right?"

"I think Kiri set it up," you looked around for it, seeing it leaned against the picnic table, "Yeah he brought it."

Katsuki stood up, stretching slightly before moving over to it. You had trouble keeping your eyes off the way his back rippled with each movement. He grabbed the paddle board and placed it in the water, "Hold it will ya?" he gave you the foot strap, making you keep it from going too far away as he walked to grab some fishing stuff.

It was small hobby he hardly got to do, but he loved it all the same. Once he grabbed a fishing pole and the right bait he walked back over to you. Setting his stuff down to the said as he grabbed the foot strap from you.

"Get on," he directed, holding the board still. Unaware you were going with you quickly put your towel down before carefully getting on, keeping yourself near the front so he had room on the back.

He handed you the paddle and his fishing gear before he joined you on the board. Taking the paddle from off your lap and pushing you guys off the shore and into the waters.

"Don't fuck on that paddle board! I want to use it later," Denki shouted from his spot next to Sero.

"Shut your damn mouth," Katsuki wacked him with the paddle once close enough.

Denki and Sero crackled out a laugh as Katsuki paddled away from them, further out into the lake.

He was mumbling under his breath. Before he could let it consume his thoughts more you spoke out, "It's beautiful here."

You looked around the lake, it was surrounded by greenery, cliff formations closing the lake in, making it feel closed off from the rest of the world. It was peaceful, Cottonwood trees shedding and filling the air with small puffs of white cotton, it looked like a dream.

"Yeah, last year you were too drunk to remember anything," he poked. Reminding you of how last year you were stumbling around half the time. You hardly remembered that trip, just the bruises that followed when you got back. You had countless scratches covering every inch of you.

You turned to shoot his a glare, seeing him looking amused at your frustration. "Well at least I had fun, you had a stick too far up your ass to have any," you shot back.

He glared at you for a second before letting his face rest again, paddling you guys into a small cove, good for fishing and still in sight of your group. Slowly you turned to face him, careful not to shake the board much.

Katsuki was tying on a hook, looking down intently at the knot. His brows furrowed as he focused. You watched as he tied it off and attached some bait before throwing it in.

Only then did he look at you, finally feeling your eyes on him. "What?"

"Just funny watching the symbol of strength tie a knot," you grinned.

He rolled his eyes. Silence took over for a moment, a heavy breath falling from his lips, "It's still all crazy to me."

"What is?" you shuffled slightly, leaning back on your hands rather then having your back hunched.

"Everything," he looked around, "Like, I really am number two."

"Yeah, you are the shit," you joked.

He shot you a look, sighing, "Not even just that, I'm second and I'm fine with it. Obviously I'll beat Deku soon, but for now I'm content."

Feeling the shift of the conversation, you joined in, "Well you've grown up a lot, you're not who you used to be in middle school anymore."

"It's weird," he looked down. Playing with the string at the end of the pole. "So much has changed but so little at the same time. I've become a top pro hero but I'm still closest to our class in UA."

"Yeah," you nodded along, watching how the sun hit his hair, " I mean, I'm in the top of my business yet I'm still dating you," you teased wanting to lift some weight from the conversation.

He looked up at you, keeping his head down, "No idea why you are. Our relationship is one of the things that haven't changed at all."

"Which is good," you finished for him.

"I mean at all," he added on, "We haven't changed our relationship since second year."

"That's not true," you frowned at him, "We've grown closer, we live together now, we go on dates," you started to list.

"You know that wasn't what I meant," he raised his head, moving to reel in the fishing pole, no longer in the mood for it. Connecting it to the side of the paddle board, securing it so he didn't have to worry about it. Same with the paddle, letting you guys drift with the wind.

"Then what do you mean?" you were trying to get him to say it. He's been hinting at it for ages but hasn't actually said it.

He raised an eyebrow at you, "Need me to spell it out?

"Yes actually."

"We've kissed five times in the total of three years, having know each other since we were fuckin' five," he explained.

"Yeah and?" you pushed.

"E' and Mina have been dating for all of three weeks officially and have probably done everything under the sun," he stated.

"What does that have to do with us?"

"It's just my fault, you've apparently have been wanting to and I've been holding you back," he confessed, shame filling his eyes as he looked at you.

"I'm fine just with you by my side," you answered, leaning up to grab his hands. A spark shooting out before you could.

"Fuck sorry," he dipped his hands in the water, then turned his watch on and his quirk off.

"Have you figured out why you spark?" you wondered, looking at his hands.

He looked back up at you, his eyes clearly searching for a way out of the conversation. His quirk activating clearly setting him far from the idea of talking about it anymore. "I just was trying to keep the watch off to test it earlier," he shrugged.

"No," you shook your head, " I meant overall."

Katsuki paused, looking back down at his hand. You wanted to comfort him, he was obviously not willing to talk about his quirk but you wanted him to confined in you.

Before you could cut in, his hands shot out and grabbed you by your knees, pulling you into him. He smirked at you, wearing his classic grin he wore in battle. The one that made you weak. Your hands flew to his chest to keep balance. "What are you doing?" you squeaked.

Instead of giving an answer he leaned down and crushed your lips in a kiss.

In just the span of a month, you doubled your kiss count with him, and made out with him.

You held your hands steady on his shoulders, letting yourself fall into the kiss, bones melting into his hold as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip.

A gasp left your lips as you tied to deepen the kiss, pushing yourself more unto him.

Unfortunately in the process of doing that, you pushed both him and yourself off the paddle board. Breaking apart before you hit the water.

You came back up laughing together.

---

Everyone only got tired of the lake way into the afternoon. Finally decided to go back for dinner. Which would take a while to set up as it is. Especially with Katsuki wanting to cook a steak on the fire. While he seasoned the steak he left Kirishima to start the fire.

You took your wine out of the cooler, quickly taking the cork out. Everyone, minus Katsuki, was well over tipsy. Having been drinking since the start of the day, so you needed to catch up.

Mina stepped to your side as you poured yourself a cup. "So," she swayed, "Bakugo's a lot calmer today than yesterday."

"Okay?" you focused on how much wine you poured yourself, having a third of your wine in one cup.

"And I saw you two on the paddle board," she hinted.

"Okay?" you took a sip of your wine, finally looking at her.

"Saw you kiss too," she stated.

You flushed, "What are you getting at?"

"Did you guys do it in the forest?" Mina asked excited.

"What?" you coughed, "No!"

"Come on, you can tell me," she pleaded, "Me and E have a bet going."

"We did not have," you lowered your voice, "sex in the forest."

She huffed, "Lame, did you at least do something?"

"Mina," you groaned, embaressed.

"You did!" Mina squealed, "What did you do?"

Katsuki heard the squeal, being only ten or so feet away, and turned his head, "You did what?"

You lost all color in your face, throat going dry. He only just started kissing you. You didn't know how'd he react you telling Mina of all people. You didn't even know if Katsuki talked about that stuff to other people, he didn't even talk about it with you.

"She's just telling me what you guys did in the forest," Mina teased.

Katsuki face flushed red.

"I didn't tell her anything!" you cut in, "She's just making stories to herself."

"Get your nose out of it racoon eyes," Katsuki spat.

You were relived he wasn't mad at you. You didn't know how you would handle that.

Picking up your cup, you decided to drown out the thought with some more alcohol. Switching to listen to the boys banter about who could get a brand and be plain faced during it. Clearly it wasn't wise to keep them near the fire. Deciding to no longer watch that shit show, which Mina joined to egg them on, you walked up to Katsuki. He was still seasoning the steaks, eyes focused as he carefully chose what to add. You stood being him, uttering a small hi before you raised on your tip-toes and rested your chin on his shoulder. Getting his view of the steak.

"Is Mina giving you a rough time?" he mumbled, voice low so the others wouldn't hear.

"Not really," you wrapped your arms around his waist, "she just really thinks we had sex."

He scoffed but didn't add anymore, he just let you watch him. Only pulling away when it was time to put the steak on the fire pit, having them hover on a small grate to cook fully.

---

You stared up fascinated by the stars, they covered the entire span of the sky. With the pollution in the city, you hardly saw the stars unless you were out in the mountains like you were now. It was a breath of fresh air in so many ways. It calmed your soul.

Every part of this camping trip did. You and Katsuki got time together, away from the stress of the world, and you got to spend it surround by your closest friends. They were always lively but you could tell they were even more alive with this trip. It's been the thing you guys talked about all summer. Planning every moment so you could live it up to the fullest. Yet, typical to the group, you guys didn't follow a single plan. The only plan you did follow was getting drunk each night. The group will have downed every last drink in the cooler by the end of tonight.

You looked back down towards the group, they were laughing at the old stories they shared from high school. It was a bond you didn't have with them. After the first year, you were back to a somewhat normal high school experience. And you'd rather forget that year, everything went horribly. You looked at the back of Katsuki's head, watching as he shook his head at what Sero said. You don't think you'd ever forget how you had smeared Katsuki's own blood on his face, trying to keep him with you. Fighting to stop his blood from flowing out of him before he pulled your hands up to his face weakly.

Tears blurred the look on his face, and you hated that you might of forgot his face. Might of had your last moments with his face foggy with tears. It ate you up inside.

The wasn't the only time you've seen him like that, and it wouldn't be the last, but it definitely set a dark tone for each day he left for work. Worried he wouldn't come back that same night. Wouldn't be there to yell at you for reading too much and not there to complain about your shows. The fact that you'd have to eat his last premade meals without him.

You worried about your friends too. You glanced at Mina. There was a day where each of your friends almost died. Mina have burned her own skin off with her quirk. It was a fate that shattered your heart, yet it happened in the hero world all too often. Denki constantly fried his own brain within an inch of life and Kirishima has broken pieces of his skin off after rough villain encounters. Hell, even Sero was almost strangled with his quirk.

Dark memories flooded your brain. Each day they sacrificed themselves yet they were sitting here without a care in the world as they sipped on their drinks. Sometimes it felt like you were the only one that cared and felt the toll, but Katsuki came home drained enough times for you to know that just isn't true. They find that saving others is worth ripping themselves apart. You shook your head at the idea. It was selfish of you, but you knew they wouldn't be selfish of themselves, so someone had to.

Not allowing yourself to fall deeper into that long fall, you took a deep breath and watch how alive they were right now. The biggest thing about knowing heroes, was that you had to live in the moment rather than the what ifs. Those would tear every inch of you apart.

The trees framing the campsite didn't look nearly as alive as your group did. They sat around the fire, poking fun at each other any chance they got. Bringing up Denki's horrible pick up lines and Kirishima's brick of a head. Their very much alive laughter echoing around your campsite.

The group was stuffed full, sitting around the campfire as they told stories. Alcohol stirring up their blood warm.

"No I swear," Denki laughed, "Bakugo literal came up to the photographer and barked."

"Shut it," Katsuki growled at him.

You were gathering supplies to make smores, craving them with the energy of camping. Arms full you walked back to Katsuki and dumped everything on his lap. "Thank you," you hummed, ignoring his protest.

Grabbing the graham-crackers from his lap you cracked one for a smore. "Can you prepare one for me too?" Katsuki asked, putting a marshmallow on a stick for both you and him.

"Breaking your diet?" you quirked a brow but prepped a smore for him as well. Placing less chocolate on his than yours because you knew he didn't care for sweets.

"Haven't had a smore since I was a kid," he confessed, handing you your stick.

"Seriously?" you were shocked, "Are you talking about that summer from when we were seven?" Recalling the last time he made a smore well. He boasted about his skills until he dropped his second one into a fire.

"Yeah," he followed your movements and put his marshmallow above the fire, letting it slowly melt.

"You guys are so cute," Mina gushed. Honestly, you were so wrapped up in your conversation with Katsuki and the memories, that you forgot about everyone else.

You felt the warm of your blush in your ears, grateful that it was dark and no one could poke fun.

"I'm serious," she whined at your silence, thinking you were disagreeing, "Childhood best friends to lovers, I mean come on! Who doesn't love that trope?!"

It was obvious she was drunk.

"Mina, you're drunk," Katsuki shook his head.

"I don't know, I agree with her. It's admirable," Kirishima followed.

"Thank you," she huffed happily.

"I don't know how you've stayed loyal for so long," Denki said, fumbling when you all gave him a weird look, "In the sense of never having a relationship with someone else before, not cheating."

Sero hummed, "Yeah, weird to know you guys haven't dated anyone but each other."

Katsuki shot you a look, you returning it all the same.

"Wait," Sero leaned forward, "Have you guys dated other people?"

"I haven't," Katsuki side eyed you as he focused back on his smore.

Mina whined your name, "Why haven't I been told this?"

"Did we go to school with them?" Denki butted in.

"It had to of been during first year right?" Sero analyzed.

"Oh my god," you shot Katsuki a glare, annoyed he pushed you into the wolves, "It was middle school." He was smug, seeing his friends basically gasp in betrayal before they heard the 'middle school.'

They let out a series of 'ohs.' The dots easily connecting for them. They never heard you mention anyone in first year, plus you dormed with them so their was no way they wouldn't of noticed someone you were dating.

"See. Not a big deal," you kicked your foot into Katsuki's. Annoyed at how he made it seem. They didn't know before because it was irrelevant. You often forgot about it entirely until he threw it in your face as a joke.

"Still, didn't you have a crush on him then?" Sero pointed out.

Making Katsuki turn his attention back on you, "Did you?" Another thing that wasn't shared

"Yes," you looked at him for a moment, "Hence why the relationship was nothing." You and Katsuki never got deep into the discussion of when your feelings started. Just deciding to date after agreeing on mutual feelings and never really resurfacing it.

You looked back at your smore, you've been absentmindedly rotating it, a little too low into the fire. It was charred. You pulled it back to sadly put into a smore. Looking at Katsuki ready marshmallow before making yours.

"Awh," you pouted, "Can we trade? Your looks better," you basically pleaded.

With a huff he gave in, "Fine."

"Thank you," you smiled at him happily. Putting your mostly charred marshmallow into his less chocolatey smore and putting his golden brown marshmallow into your chocolate heavy smore.

You looked back at the group after handing Katsuki his smore. Happy with the new arrangement.

They were in disbelief, Denki speaking up first, "We're not just moving past your previous relationship, are we?"

"Why does it matter?" Katsuki butt in, confused about how this turned into an entire conversation.

"How does it not matter?" Sero shot back, "Your entire relationship is a lie."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, "Not really. It's one small thing that you didn't know."

"It was a dumb middle school relationship," you filled in.

"Yeah, a relationship before Bakugo," Mina added on, "I need details."

Now you were rolling your eyes, "I don't even remember his name at this point, it's been like five years," you dismissed.

"You player," Denki cut in. You gave him a 'really' look, "Hey! I remember their names."

"I dated him for a week before we 'broke up,' it was hardly a relationship. I think we just dated for a school dance," you shrugged, biting into the smore Katsuki made for you. Melting into your seat at the sweet taste.

"Why'd you break up?" Kirishima questioned for the first time.

You smirked, glancing at Katsuki who was already shaking his head. Glad that the conversation could be flipped back onto him. "This dude," you pointed your thumb at him over your shoulder, looking at the group to see their reaction, "Scared him off by barking. Seems like a habit he hasn't lost."

Denki started cracking up, hunching over and spilling his beer sightly, "Why do you do that?" he laughed harder seeing Katsuki's face scrunch.

"He was dropped on his head," you answered for him.

Denki fell over sideways in his chair, the alcohol clearly making him laugh harder than usual. He always laughed when you and Katsuki bickered, but never this hard.

"Fuck you," Katsuki spat at you, "Shouldn't of given you my smore."

"You're the one that started this conversation," you shrugged, patting your stomach, "Smore was delicious though. Would of been a waste on your lame tastebuds."

"My tastebuds are normal," he argued. Kirishima laughed. "What?" Katsuki growled at him.

"Bro, you chug protein drinks and don't even wince," Kirishima answered.

"Cause I'm not a little bitch," Katsuki defended.

You and Mina cringed. "I can't believe you kiss that guy," Mina looked at you face holding pure disgust. You snorted out a laugh at Katsuki's face.

"Me either," you agreed, likely for different reasons.

"That's it," Katsuki stood up, standing in his classic gremlin stance. Arms out, hands up, and knees bent. He sparked his hands briefly, which made you oldy relived. It was nice to know he didn't have the watch constantly turning his quirk off, that wouldn't be good for him. "I'll kill you all," he stepped straight past you and marched to the others.

Denki scrambled behind a chair, pointing out at you when Katsuki stormed past you, "How come she doesn't?"

"She has to go home with me, she'll get it," Katsuki stomped towards the electric blonde. You blushed at the way Katsuki said it, knowing the others would think of it the same way as you.

"Ew," Sero gagged, "I don't want to hear about your sex life."

Katsuki's hand sparked brighter, "That's not what I meant!"

"Sureee," Mina teased, sending you a wink, "Hear that, you're gonna get it later."

You were bright red at this point. "Shut it," Katsuki all but shouted, running towards Mina. Quickly chasing her around the campsite. Mina using her acid to slide further away from him.

---

After Katsuki successfully singed everyone at least one, they gave in. Kirishima, Sero, and Denki all having cried 'uncle' when Katsuki twisted their arm behind their back. Winning easily due to them all being wasted. Katsuki quickly yelled at them to go to bed. Wanting them to sleep before the group hike early tomorrow so they were back in time to pack up to go back home.

Just like everyone else, you stumbled into the tent, similar to how you did the night before. Barely able to unzip the tent to get in, having Katsuki open it for you

"You're a mess," Katsuki chuckled, zipping the tent close behind him after he saw you stumble in.

You grumbled, grabbing the ends of your shirt and raising it above your head. It was dark enough so he'd hardly see as well as anything he would see, he saw earlier in the pond. Which was a lot more intimate than this. You also had the liquid courage of wine in your system.

"What are you doing?" Katsuki hissed.

"Huh?" you turned to look at him, shirt off your head and in your hands.

"Oh god," Katsuki snapped his head the other direction, his quirk sparking off before he quickly fumbled for his watch, turning his quirk off. "Put a shirt on."

You reach to grab your bag off the floor, setting it on the bed to put your shirt back in, grabbing a sleep shirt, "Why does it bug you?"

"Your half naked," he exclaimed in a hushed tone, not wanting the others to overhear despite them being at least twenty feet away.

"Need I remind you of the pond?" you raised your brow at him, but followed his wish. Pulling your shirt back over your head.

"That's different," he argued, looking back at you.

"I was also in a swimsuit all day," you pointed out, unhooking your bra from under your shirt.

He flushed so bright you could see it well even in the dark, "Will you stop that?"

"I'm just getting cozy," you shrugged, "You could do the same y'know?"

You pulled off your pants to slip on your sleep shorts.

"Oh my god," he groaned. You would of laughed at his dramatics but he was covering his eyes at this point.

"What's so bad about it?" you asked softly.

"You're half naked," he repeated.

You crossed your arms over your stomach, "And that's a problem?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed. Exclaimed. Eyes still covered.

"Y'know," you paused for a shaky breath, "you make me feel so insecure."

"What?" he dropped his hands from his eyes.

You looked down, "You're acting disgusted by my body."

"What?" he repeated, "That's not what-"

"Yes it is Katsuki," you cut him off. You could physically feel like heart drop at you calling him his full name and not just Kats. "You're covering your eyes and telling me to cover up. You'd think my boyfriend," you emphasized, "of three years wouldn't be appalled at the idea of my body. "

"You've got it all wrong," he step towards you, you taking a step back.

"Do I?"

"Yes, extremely," he nodded, frustrated.

"Then explain it to me," you offered, "Jolting away from my touch and hugs all these years and now wishing me to not show my skin."

"Fuck," he rubbed his hand over his face, taking a step closer to you, "I just can't handle it. It's too much for me," he admitted.

"I'm going to need you to elaborate."

"It's overwhelming, becomes all I can think about," he took a step closer, and you let him. Arms still crossed as you looked up at him. "I want you more than anything, fuck, more than being number one."

You dropped your arms to your sides, "What?" you asked softly.

"I can't let you touch me for too long because then I just want more. Can't look too long or I'll want to see more," he spoke softly, "it's fucking annoying."

"Then why haven't we..." you left off, knowing he got the hint.

"I'm fuckin scared," he ran his hands through his hair.

"Kats, there nothing to be scared of, " you tried to comfort, "What could the symbol of strength possibly be scared of?"

"Of just that."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm worried I'm going to fuckin' blow you up or something," he blurted.

You paled, expecting anything but that.

"Fuckin' see?" he sat down roughly on the air mattress, resting his elbows on his knees as he held his head in his hands.

You took a seat next to him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "Why have you never told me?" you asked gently.

"Didn't want to bother you with this stupid shit," he slapped his hands down, looking over at you.

"It's not stupid," you shook your head at him.

"I should be over it at our grown ass age," he huffed, his eyes were getting bloodshot.

"How are you going to get over something you've never addressed?" you pointed out. Dragging his hands away from his eyes when he tried to rub at them. "Why do you think you'll do that?"

"I can't fucking control it, you see my quirk go off," he stared down at his hands.

"Do you know why it does?" you were trying to figure him out, for his sake and yours.

He sighed, "I get freaked out," he paused for a while, "I get nervous then I start freaking out about my quirk going off and it does."

"I don't see it happening in interviews?" you questioned, knowing he gets anxious in those.

He gave you a blank stare, "What are you? Stupid?"

"Hey!"

"I get nervous around you," he spelt out, "This shit only happens around you."

You flushed from head to toe. All you could do was stare at him dumbly. Mei was right. His quirk went off because of you. You couldn't help the light smile that crossed your face.

"The fuck you smilin' for?"

"I honestly just relived," you confessed, "I thought your quirk going off meant that you wanted me as far away as possible, since when I got too close you pushed me away."

"You'd think your quirk would help your dumbass brain but it doesn't," he looked at you in disbelief, "Why would I be with you?"

"It's also why I thought you kept bring up the physical touch thing," you shrugged, "Thought you were using it as your way out of the relationship."

"Why would of put up with your shit if I didn't want you?" he pointed out.

"Y'know, Mei brought up the same points," you laughed.

He groaned, "Mei knows?"

"Sorry," you apologized, "It was eating me up inside."

"It's fine," he brushed off, "I'm sorry too, didn't really think about what you thought was going on till recently."

"It's fine," you stifled a yawn.

"Tired?"

"Very," you admitted.

"Sleep, we have an early mornin'," he motioned to the bed. You happily moved up the bed, happy to get cozy under the covers next to him after he changed into his sleepwear. Watching the way the small light of the flashlight, used to light your way to the tent, created shadows over the span of his back. It was always a welcomed site to see. It felt even better now, knowing that he wanted you in the same way you wanted him.

"It's fuckin' cold," you mumbled, holding the blanket over your cheeks as you curled up.

Without saying a word, Katsuki pulled you into his side. He was a human furnace, so you instantly melted into his side. Flushed with the closeness. Having gone three years with no touch, to making out in a pond and cuddling in bed together in the same day.

The relief the conversation gave you was insane, you no longer felt disgusted and you no longer felt like he wanted out of the relationship.

This camping trip lifted more than a small weight off your shoulders, but all the insecurities and worries of your relationship along with it. Progress in the right direction could finally be made, rather than the stand still you've been at this entire time.

You let out a sigh of relief, curling into his side more as you let sleep cloud your brain.

-Next Part-

I did not expect this to be so damn long, fuck. I've written this in two days and it's literally the longest thing I've ever written for a chapter. I hoped you like the camping trip, it was fun to write and I hope I illustrated it well enough. Thank you <3

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

@ldk3347 @suki0 @ez4ra @mithicakurogo @aomi04 @ellielover69 @minori-taiga1 @54fangirl @zoast32 @mushroomsneedystuff @kazuumii @snxwflwr @keiva1000 @thescarletwallflower @juicyfingers @atashiboba @ofcqdesi @americasass1942 @kaboomkayla @ilovedenk-i @iamyoursonly @albakugo @venusluvslove @fairiesgloss @limitedstar @i-bitch-you-bitch @drageonix24 @sweetpandabiscuitrebel @sinyaaa @xreiiss @oddball08 @imsuperawkward @lomlchi @anime-manga-fanatic @irlpadfoot @lord-goosifur @chocoyanchan @gollumsmygel @yuptha-tsme @icedemon1314 @alstrums @suki0 @yesiamrobbysimp @supersecretsamm @maeveorsomethinggg @ivuriexo

(make sure your can be tagged, your blog might be hidden)

[lvndosnorris]

hii! do u think u could write a little something for charles where he accidentally starts speaking in french mid sex, but u have no idea what he’s saying so u have to occasionally let him know cause the pleasure just gets too much for him and his brain can’t process anything

oh i love this — my first charles req too! i did have to translate some bits because my french is diabolical but hopefully it's okay!

charles' whimpers were becoming more and more hoarse; barely coherent as you cupped the side of his face, stroking the corner of his mouth with your thumb as you stilled your movements. much to the dismay of your boyfriend, his eyes shooting open and eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he stared curiously at you. the pleasure had stilled, only slightly though as you clenched around him instinctively.

hands on your hips he pushed down, desperate for you to quit your stupid little games and carry on riding him — and it somewhat worked. your cunt fluttering around his length as you finally lifted your hips before rocking back down again, continuing the self-indulgence with a soft moan.

this wasn't planned: your clothes strewn in the corner of the sitting room, your thighs either side of charles' as you bounced languidly, taking your time to tighten the all-too familiar knot that had formed in the pit of your stomach. charles' lids were heavy, swollen lips parted as he mumbled over and over, each word punctuated with a whine that you could only describe as desperate.

"mon ange— fait du bien—" spilling from his tongue as he pinched the flesh of your waist, palms soothing over the area as he half-arsed attempted to meet your thrusts halfway. head thrown back you watched the way his adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed back his noises, brain completely fuzzy at how tight you were, how warm.

you'd be lying if you said you understood him completely — too busy feeling your limbs go numb at the sound of your boyfriend as you slammed down on him with a little more force. you could feel your orgasm teetering, charles' little "j'ai besoin de toi" and "tu es si bon avec moi" falling on deaf ears as you pressed your forehead to his.

"i need to know what you're saying pretty boy," you whispered, lips ghosting his as you pushed yourself back. the new angle earned a filthy moan from your throat, a wave of pleasure cursing through your veins as he studied you through a darkened vision. but he couldn't stop himself — thoughts not even cohesive, fingers harsh as they dug deeper at the small of your back. almost dragging you up and down his cock in search of his own orgasm, completely oblivious to the words that were spilling from him.

* mon ange - my angel

** fait du bien - so good

*** j'ai besoin de toi - i need you

**** tu es si bon avec moi - you're so good to me

[dollfacefantasy]

dad bod chris redfield ♡

chris redfield x fem!reader

you're extra needy for your boyfriend and his dad bod when he comes home from a mission

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

a/n + tags: i'm nothing if not for the people. i'm not sure how i feel about this one, but hope i did it justice 🫡 @ovaryacted i hope you enjoy bb 🙏

“I missed you so much,” you whisper.

Nuzzling the space between the crook of Chris’s neck and his earlobe, you kiss his skin with a feather light touch.

“Missed you too, baby,” he grunts as he adjusts you on his lap.

You were always needy when Chris came back from missions. They had become fewer and farther between now that he was getting older, but when he did have to leave, he was always gone long enough to leave you yearning for him.

Kissing up to his cheekbone, your arms wrap around him to keep his body pressed against yours. The scruff of his facial hair scrapes the delicate skin of your jaw. He was so warm and soft right now, the feeling you’d been craving from his side of the bed for the past three weeks.

His hand finds the base of your neck and gives it a light massage. The rough pads of his fingers drag in little soothing circles. Your thighs slide around to land on either side of his legs. Now that you’re straddling him, you roll your hips down against the center of his lap.

“You’re so eager for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, swiping his thumb across your jawline.

“Been thinking about you too much, every night you were gone,” you say softly.

“That so?” he whispers as his hands fall to your hips to guide their movements, “What kind of things did you think about, angel?”

You hum in a mixture of thought and pleasure. With his help, you have more friction between the two of you. Your movements are still slow and steady, working the sparks into a flame.

“Thought about your hands,” you say, looking down, “And your arms. Just wanted to feel you wrapped around me.”

As if to put action to your words, your palms land on his muscular biceps. Even with his age, his muscle mass didn’t deteriorate. You squeeze the thickness of his limbs and bite your lip.

“What else?” he prompts.

“Ummm… I don’t know. I just thought about all of you,” you say with a timid shrug.

“Nuh uh, princess. C’mon. Give me something more. What else were you dreaming about while I was away?” he asks as he pulls you even closer. His mouth drops to your neck to kiss and suck at the skin.

You pause and tilt your head back to give him some room. You’d been together for years, but when he came back from missions, you gained the shyness you possessed when the two of you first started dating. Everything about him was familiar and comforting, but after a bit of time apart, it still brought the thrill of something fresh.

It got Chris so riled up that he could still make you hesitate like this too. Initially, he’d been worried that as he aged and things got less toned and tight and more loose and soft, that you’d lose interest. The sweet heat of lust would cool and turn frigid. It hadn’t been an issue so far, and instances like this were more than enough proof. Every time the two of you got intimate, you ran like a faucet, soaking through more pairs of panties than he could count.

“I just-“ you start to answer his question before sucking in a sharp breath when he nips at your pulse point, “I just couldn’t stop thinking about you all over me. Your chest and your stomach. Your skin all hot, sweating against me.”

He smirks at the revelation and kisses your neck with more fervor.

“I miss you so much when you’re gone it makes me ache,” you say.

You felt that ache not only between your legs but all through your body. It radiated from between your rib cage and fizzled outwards to your arms. You felt it in the pit of your belly and the back of your throat.

Thinking about him just drove you wild as of late. He may have worried about you losing your attraction for him, but thoughts like that never even crossed your mind. If anything, you were crazier for him now. Everything about him revved you up, and the only way you could communicate that was physical.

You could see the ways his body was changing. The way he filled out his t-shirts more. How plush he felt when he hugged you. Everything about him was just big. It made you want to latch on and never let go.

“Let me get rid of that ache for you, doll,” he says and goes to flip you over.

You stop him by digging your knee into the mattress. He raises an eyebrow at the move.

Instead of responding with words, you gently push him back towards the mattress, asserting a bit of control that you rarely held in the bedroom. He’s interested though, and follows your touch. You're both gazing at each other with wanting eyes as his head lands on the duvet. You run your hands up and down his chest, watching the little creases your fingers make against his shirt.

“I just wanna show you how much I missed you. Recreate some of my thoughts,” you offer as an explanation.

“Let’s see it then, honey,” he grins.

Your first move is peeling off his shirt. You pull the fabric up over his head, and he helps to discard it completely, leaving himself exposed in a way that makes your mouth water. With him like this, you can see the body you loved the feel of. The hair that dusted his broad chest, the plump flesh that rested over the muscles beneath.

Without another thought, you lower your head. You start with his collar bone. Your lips flutter along it, coasting over the skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Then you move down to his chest. The kisses are tender but full of passion. You can feel the beat of his heart beneath your lips.

As you lavish the muscles with affection, your hands weave to his sides and grip the doughy flesh there until the skin goes pure white with pressure. He groans softly and you can feel his cock beginning to stiffen against your abdomen.

You move further down, your lips still working to express all the love you held for him. You only take a brief pause to nuzzle against his belly, taking in everything about him now that he’s home with you again. Your center throbs as his scent fills your nostrils and the fuzz of his happy trail brushes your cheek.

Going back to kisses, your mouth moves more now. Your lips open and close over his tummy. As desperate as the movements were, you still couldn’t get enough of him. You suckle some love bites near his navel and relish the breathy moan that leaves his lips.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he mumbles, rubbing his hand over his face.

“I told you I missed you,” you whisper. Your breath chills his skin that was still slick with your saliva.

You then reach the top of his pants and hook your fingers over the rough fabric. You pull it down enough just to give you a better view of his v-line. Your mouth latches onto that area and litters the space with kisses just as you had done above.

Your fingers fumble with the button and zipper, leaving his bulge only covered by the thin cloth of boxers. You rub your face against that too like it’s a way of marking your territory.

He glances down at you and watches with love, but just as you’re pulling his cock out he grabs you under the arms and drags you back up to him.

“Not yet, precious. Now it’s my turn,” he says.

He rolls you on your back for real this time, not giving you any chance to stop him. Your shirt is gone just as quick as his was, and in a similar manner, his attention falls to your chest.

Squishing your breasts together, he licks and kisses all over them. He briefly sucks a nipple into his mouth before releasing it with a wet pop. You arch into his touch as whimpers fall from your lips. Your legs squirm beneath him. The quick and rough feeling of his lips and tongue fire up your nerves into overdrive.

“I’ve been missing these cute tits too. I’ve been missing them in my hands and my mouth,” he mutters while continuing to focus on making you writhe from that alone.

His fingers press against the plump flesh a few more times before gliding down over your sides to your bottoms. He unties the drawstring before pushing them South and letting you kick them all the way off.

He gropes your thighs, groaning at the soft flesh between his fingers before spreading them apart. You’re coated with arousal, thoroughly worked up and ready to take him. Guiding his tip towards your entrance, he gives it a few lazy strokes. You can feel the precum beading at the head as it presses against you.

It splits you apart when he pushes it in. The shaft is thick, veins sprawling across it. It slots between the tight embrace of your walls, causing you to whine. Your limbs tighten around him in tandem. Just like you had wanted, his skin was all over yours.

“Always so tight for me. Don’t think I’m gonna wanna pull out for a while,” he grunts.

“Mhm, need you inside. I've been empty for too long,” you whimper.

“Have you?” he chuckles as he starts to rock his hips, “None of your toys can fill you up the same way, huh?”

You shake your head quickly. It was the truth. Nothing could ever replace the blissful stretch that he gave. Nothing could satiate you but having his fat cock buried to the hilt.

“That’s right,” he breathes, “That’s my baby. Only I can fuck you how you need.”

Now you nod. Your nails dig into his back, reddening the skin as they drag down. His hips piston into you with more force. The thrusts weren’t too quick, but they were even and deep. You could feel him all the way in your tummy.

Your eyes roll back as you lock your legs around his waist, keeping him all the way in. He has to roll them and grind them into your heat. You’re too close for him to slip in and out. His tip brushes all the little pleasure spots he knew so well.

“Chris…” you mewl, “Harder, babe. Need it more.”

“I’m trying, sweetheart. You got me trapped as far as possible,” he says smugly, clearly pleased with how badly you wanted him.

He tightens his hold on your hips to a bruising grip and thrusts as deep as he physically can. His thick abdomen is caged between your thighs while his belly and chest presses against yours. Your skin glides against one another, sweat and breaths intermingling between the two of you.

The bedroom that had been quiet for weeks while he was gone was now filled with sound. Your noises have both turned primal, raw with carnal passion. The bed creaks as he works himself into you over and over. You cradle his head against your neck, just wanting to hear him lose himself in you.

He was getting closer. His hips were sputtering and his cheeks were tinting pink. Your breaths had turned gaspy, little whimpers pouring out in between them.

“You want me to finish inside?” he purrs, “I know you do. Think you been aching for my cum worse than anything else.”

“Yeah,” you moan, “Need it in me so bad. Please. Need all of you.”

That drives him to fuck you harder. He always wanted you to have everything you needed, and if you needed to be fucked full of his cum, he’d be damned if you went without. A low moan rumbles inside of you as his tip kisses your sweet spot over and over. He feels you tightening up and hums out a groan. The end is near for both of you. Just a few more euphoric thrusts and you both burst.

You explode into white hot pleasure. It glosses over the ache and seeps into it, changing the feeling to the core. Your head whips back and your cries come out loud and strained. You're locked around his body. His skin is hot and you can feel his pulse against you.

The next thing you feel is him shooting loads of his cum inside you. The sticky warm fluid paints your insides and makes you feel all warm and clingy. He fucks it nice and deep as per your request.

The noise has quieted down now, but the room still holds the comforting sound of both of you panting. He goes to pull out, but you shake your head and cling to him.

“Not yet,” you plead, giving him your best puppy eyes.

He chuckles and shakes his head, but of course he was going to indulge you. He carefully rolls over, keeping himself snug inside. Rubbing his hand up and down your back, he whispers to you.

“You’ve got it bad.”

“Shut up,” you huff.

You get comfy on top of him, nestling your head in its spot right in the center of his chest. His warmth surrounds you and it’s hard not to fall asleep right then and there. You melt on top of the softness of his body, letting the feeling sink in that he was home with you at least for the time being.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 13: Lingerie

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Lingerie (✨)

Summary: You buy red lingerie just for Matt, and he enjoys it to the fullest.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral fem!receiving, mentions of p in v, lingerie, face-sitting

Word Count: 951

A/n: Matt would go feral if you surprised him with lingerie, and that's a fact.

Read Me On AO3!

You bought this piece just for him—this red, silken piece of sin you paid a fortune for. The fabric is incredibly soft to the touch, running through fingers like water. 

Matt rests his hand on your chest, over your heart. His fingers dig into the silk that covers the body he worships, and he has to bite into the flesh of his cheek to stop himself from moaning. You did this for him. 

He likes you naked. He likes you spread out for him. He likes the feel of your skin against his, but God, you’re wearing lingerie made of the softest fabric the earth has ever seen, and his cock is already so fucking hard against his stomach. 

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands roaming over you so he can paint a picture of you in his head. A picture of you wearing this. 

You gently take his other hand and place it on your upper thigh. “Here,” you say.

His heart pounds against his ribcage like a chainsaw. “Fuck,” he grunts. 

You’re wearing a fucking garter belt, too. 

He’s sure he must have died sometime tonight and gone to heaven. You can’t possibly be real. So beautiful, so hot, and you are all his. His to touch, command, and take until you are begging for mercy.

You did this for him.

“I love you,” he says, bringing his lips to where the fabric has ridden up above your belly button. “I love you so much.”  

His breath is warm against your skin—warm and wet, and desperate. 

“I want you to ride my face.”

Your heart stutters. “What?”

Matt lifts his unfocused gaze toward the sound of your voice. “I want you to ride my face. Right here,” he pulls you into his lap, “wearing this.”

Oh.

He has had you in all sorts of compromising positions, but this… this is something else. The thought of him lapping at your pussy as you’re kneeling above him is both incredibly arousing and absolutely terrifying, but if there is anyone you would trust with your life, it’s him.

He falls back against the mattress, taking you down with him. His lips taste like home, the kiss he presses to your lips so full of love that you forget for a moment what this is even about.

Greedy hands roam the silky lingerie, and your pussy starts to ache for him. For his fingers, for his cock, and his lips on you. You need him to touch you, to drive you to the brink of death just to pull you back with nothing but his magical tongue. You need him. 

Matt pulls you higher, your legs now resting on either side of his head. You must look divine like this. He can smell you through the thin fabric of those sheer panties, soaked through and ready for him. He wants to dig his finger into you, to drink from you like a spring carved by God himself. 

The panties are the easiest to get out of the way; they barely cover you as is, and it makes him wonder if you would let him keep them for the nights you’re not there and he needs something of yours to keep him company—to jerk off to.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m okay.”

And ready, though the words die on your tongue before you can utter them.

His hands soothe your shaky muscles, tangling in the garter belt around the plump flesh of your thigh, and without a warning, he pulls you down. 

You cry out into the quiet of the room. His mouth covers your pussy as he feasts, tongue darting between your folds and to your clit. The moan he breathes into your core is utterly guttural. 

“Ride me,” he begs, the silk now bundled in his fist. “C’mon.” 

Hesitantly, you bury your fingers in his hair, and you start to rock your hips in sync with the desperate drag of his tongue. You chase that high, the pleasure that is curling in the pit of your stomach and spreading through your pussy like a wildfire.

Matt pulls at the lingerie, knuckles white with his flailing self-restraint. He’s telling you to move faster, to lock your legs around his head and ride his face until he suffocates. He wants your orgasm. He wants to drink your essence like a fine glass of wine. If he could, he would even drown in you.

He cups your breast, feeling your heart race underneath. It’s silk, silk all over. You feel like a cloud—a fucking cloud. 

“Matthew,” you breathe. 

He’s still fisting the garter belt, teeth dragging over your flesh and soothing it with the tip of his tongue. The pleasure tightens its noose around you. 

He tugs, and tugs, and tugs. Your orgasm keeps building, reaching the crescendo of the symphony you’re playing. You’re so close. 

You don’t know where to put your hands anymore, and he’s so immersed in eating you out, the sight alone is enough to set fire to the rain; the fabric snaps, suddenly and without warning, and with it, the wave finally crashes into you.  

You couldn’t have seen this coming, couldn’t have anticipated what only a piece of fabric could do to him. He rocked your world. He always does, but tonight, it felt different; it felt different and you loved it.

You slowly come back to yourself, lying there completely boneless as he pries himself away from you. 

Matt props himself up on his elbow beside you. You look over at him, the content expression on his face, and it makes you smile. “Lingerie, huh?” you say.

He hums in agreement, “Lingerie.”

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #17

(I had this idea when I learned that there are some people who give out their phone numbers for people to give to someone who is harassing them/giving creepy vibes/or just plain not interested.

Btw, if you wanna add a ship between Danny and any of the mentioned captured vigilantes, go right on ahead! If you're not a fan of ships, that's fine too. Later!)

✦

Who You Gonna Call?

After the Anti-Ecto Acts were dismantled and the townwide internet/communications blackout is dismantled, Danny's social media for his alter ego blows up. He won't lie either, he loves the mostly positive attention whereas before he'd only been met with fear and hatred.

It isn't until he makes a post where he jokingly mentions the Fenton patented Anti-Creep Stick™ (yes it actually works on ghosts) that he gets loads of comments on how many wish it would work on human creeps giving unwanted attention (it actually does because it's literally just a baseball bat covered in anti-ghost paint, but meh) or really just have Danny himself scare away the creeps because of the whole "being a ghost" thing. Naturally, this sets off Danny's protection obsession and he decides to do something about it.

With a little help from Technus, Danny learns to manipulate and travel through phone connections and then releases a separate phone number for people to use/give away if they're stuck in an uncomfortable situation.

Here's the funny part tho.

Red Hood somehow uses the number kinda as a joke to, well, sic Phantom on the Joker while him, Nightwing, and Red Robin are tied up for another one of the clown's schemes. It works a little too well though. Turns out the Joker is wanted in the Infinite Realms for continued interference on peaceful relations between said Realms and the Living World, i.e. - terrorism. It's then discovered that Joker is in fact considered liminal by ghost standards and therefore falls under Danny, the Ghost King's, jurisdiction.

So basically, Jason calls Phantom's Anti-Creep number as a joke, Phantom actually shows up via phone connection, and all three of them wind up witnessing firsthand the Joker being dragged into a glowing green, concerningly Pit-like portal, bound in chains + kicking and screaming. Phantom even stops long enough to untie them, shake hands with a shocked Red Hood, thanks him for his help, and then leaves like it never happened.

Now. How the hell are they going to explain this to Batman?

✦

This idea has probably already been thought of before but I haven't seen it. If someone has, please direct me to it. 👀

[a-little-unsteddie]

Steve had known it was a bad idea from the beginning.

Dustin had come barreling in to Family Video, dragging a disgruntled Eddie Munson behind him, begging him to host Hellfire because the school was hosting some christmas fundraiser and didn’t want the Dungeons and Dragons club interfering with the event.

“Steve,” Dustin cried, eyes wide, lip jutting out, “please let us have Hellfire in your house.”

Steve stared at Dustin, unimpressed. He had one eyebrow raised, with his hands on his hips. “Why can’t you have it at one of the other members’ houses? Y’know, as they’re in the club. I’m sure one of them can play host for your dumb little game.” He argued, ignoring Munson behind Dustin. Well, trying to. The Dungeon Master looked wildly uncomfortable to be there, glaring directly behind Steve in defiance.

“Because, none of their houses are big enough for all of us,” Dustin explained, leaning over the counter. Steve scrunched his nose up at the action, gently pushing him back a few inches. Robin was standing next to him, looking amused, gaze flickering back and fourth while watching the scene unfold. Traitor.

“Right, so why can’t you just postpone the game then?” Steve asked, sighing. He grabbed a few tapes from the returns bin, walking around the counter to actually do his job.

At that question, Eddie finally spoke, “We can’t just postpone the session, that’d be stupid. I told you he wouldn’t do it, Henderson.” Steve paused, cursing himself for being affected by the tone that Eddie had taken on. He knew that tone, that was a ‘why would King Steve do anything to help others’ tone, or worse a tone that implied he didn’t believe Steve was actually friends — or whatever — with Henderson.

Steve turned around slowly, white knuckling a tape in his right hand by his side. He saw Dustin deflating, before seeing him puff up, getting ready to defend Steve.

“He always does this,” Dustin explained, “acts like he’s not gonna give in when he’s totally going to give in.” Steve watched as Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes in disbelief, opening his mouth to make some scathing remark. Steve narrowed his eyes, absolutely not.

“Right, because you—”

Steve cut Eddie off, turning around so he wouldn’t have to face Dustin as he finally gave in. “Fine,” he sighed, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. He heard something fall, but refused to turn to see what it was before he continued. “You can have your Dorks and Demons meeting at my house.” Robin snorted from behind the counter, meeting Steve’s glare with an amused grin.

“Yes! Told you, Eddie! Thank you—” Dustin began, but Steve cut him off.

“You’re cleaning up after, and you’re all gone by 9 P.M.,” Steve said, turning to face Dustin. The freshman grinned at Steve toothily, not fading even as he took in Steve’s stern look.

“Absolutely!” Dustin agreed, bobbing his head in agreement rapidly. He turned to Eddie, who looked surprised. Dustin either didnt see, or didn’t care, as he continued babbling away to Eddie as he dragged him out of the shop as quickly as they came in. Steve felt a knot at the pit of his stomach forming, twisting uncomfortably as he took deep breaths to try and soothe it.

“That was nice,” Robin commented, leaning on the counter with her chin resting on the palm of her hand. Steve schooled his expression to be one of nonchalance before turning to face her.

“Well, someone’s gotta do it. I guess,” he sighed, returning the final movie finally before making his way behind the counter. Once securely next to Robin, he looked at her with wide eyes. “Eddie Munson hates me and this is a terrible idea. Will you be there? Please?” He asked, pouting at his best friend.

“I’m sorry, dingus. Family dinner tonight, otherwise I would,” Robin said, looking apologetically at Steve. While she didn’t want to go, she also knew how bad Steve’s anxiety had gotten over the last few months after Starcourt. Steve groaned, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

“It’s fine, I know how your family is,” he sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

“Call if anything happens, though,” Robin said, nudging Steve’s side.

—

Steve knew it was a bad idea when at 3:30pm, Dustin knocked on his door with the rest of Hellfire standing behind him. Still, Steve wanted them to have a good time and made sure he had a variety of drinks and snacks available. He had taken the dining room table and moved it to the living room, so that way they would have more space.

“Hey, Steve!” Dustin greeted, barreling past him. Steve rolled his eyes fondly, a small smile gracing his face as he watched the curly haired boy run past, quickly followed by Lucas and Mike.

“Hey, losers,” Steve greeted the kids, “your favorites are already at the table, help yourself.” He called out to them, before turning to face the older members of Hellfire. They all looked vaguely uncomfortable, if not a little upset to be there. Steve felt his stomach twist again, clearing his throat to dislodge the anxiety a bit.

“Welcome, feel free to help yourselves to the kitchen. Snacks are on the island and drinks are in the fridge. Grab whatever,” he explained, opening the door wide enough to let everyone in. They all looked between each other before walking into the house. Steve let out a weary sigh once he shut the door, making his way after them.

Once everyone had taken their spots around the table, Steve noticed only the kids had the snacks still. He hesitated for a moment before awkwardly making his way to the table of nerds. Immediately, everyone’s eyes were on him, the kids with curious looks and the older boys with suspicion and confusion.

“Uh, there’s Coke, Sprite, Mt. Dew, Dr. Pepper and Strawberry Soda in the kitchen. Anyone want anything?” Steve asked tentatively, glancing at each of the older Hellfire members.

Gareth scoffed, rolling his eyes. “We don’t need your drinks, Harrington.” The name was spoken with vitriol, leaving a sour taste in Steve’s mouth. “Figures you’d try to buy us.” Dustin and Lucas frowned at the words, while the others laughed. Mike stayed silent, looking a bit amused, but still unsure if he should laugh. Steve swallowed thickly, leaving the room.

“Now that he’s gone, we can get started,” Eddie said, clapping his hands together. The kids were easily distracted by the words, their discomfort quickly leaving to be replaced with anticipation over the start of a new campaign.

For the next few hours, Steve stuck to the dining room, listening to the campaign. He had to admit, it sounded pretty interesting. Eddie had called it ‘the Cult of Vecna’, which seemed to get everyone pumped for the rest of the game. He would occasionally try to offer drinks or snacks, only to be rebuked every time. He eventually decided to just silently deliver Dustin, Lucas and Mike’s refills, before leaving quickly again to avoid the scathing remarks from the older members. After the first few times, even Mike had gotten uncomfortable with the remarks. It seemed to drain the kids energy, watching Steve get belittled at every turn.

“We can get our own drinks.”

“No, Harrington. We don’t want your damn snacks.”

The last comment he got before giving up entirely was one that hurt him the most, he thought.

“We’re not going to steal anything, you can stop hovering.”

So he stopped trying, sticking to the kitchen or dining area.

Around six thirty in the evening, Steve made everyone sandwiches. Dustin had told him about Jeff being a vegetarian and made sure there were options for him as well. He hesitated for a moment, staring at the table with apprehension. Unfortunately for him, he hesitated long enough for Dustin to notice him hovering again.

“Steve made sandwiches!” Dustin said excitedly. Lucas and Mike perked right up, turning to face the babysitter. Steve flushed, shrugging helplessly.

“It’s dinner time and I’ve only seen the kids eating, so I made sandwiches,” he said quietly, avoiding the gazes of the older members. He focused on Dustin, who grinned toothily at him, making grabby hands. Steve snorted at it, walking forward and placing the tray of sandwiches on the table, purposely standing between Lucas and Mike to not have to stand near the older members.

“Uh, these ones are vegetarian,” he said, placing the second plate down near Jeff. Jeff looked at him surprised before grabbing one of the sandwiches. Frankie groaned, rolling his eyes at Steve.

“What are we? Twelve? We can take care of ourselves, Harrington.”

Jeff hesitated for a moment, but still grabbed the sandwiches Steve had made specifically for him. Gareth looked vaguely uncomfortable, while Frankie just openly glared at Steve.

“We didn’t ask for these,” Eddie said, tone sharp. “Leave us alone, man. Don’t need to bullshit with us.”

Steve felt his stomach drop and tensed at the words that Eddie spoke, tears immediately filling his eyes. He turned abruptly and walked towards the front door, slamming it behind him as the tears began to fall.

Yeah, Steve knew it was a bad idea to let Dustin convince him to host Hellfire.

The table stared after him in shock, flinching at the door slamming. Dustin turned to face the older members, eyes fiery with rage.

“What the fuck was that?”

———

listen i just wanted to write unresolved angst. not my best work honestly, but i still like it. not beta’d because why would i. i doubt i’ll continue this, because it’s just intended to be Sad.

[shaisuki]

📌 day five: gun play + toji fushiguro

“there's a reason why there's a safety on a gun, sweetheart.” his voice gruff and amusement is laced in his words. he's behind you. showing you the metallic body of the firearm sleek in the color of matte black. it's heavy in your palms despite him holding it. toji doesn't shy from his profession as a hitman. it was his way of living, of surviving.

you have once witnessed take a life with this weapon and in the sick state of your mind, it turns you on, of the thought of him using it against you and toji was more than happy to demonstrate the thing to you. “it's for the people like you who craves this danger.” he continues. pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your head. the scar in the corner of his mouth twitches as he smiles.

toji is still on his work clothes while he sat with you in the bed. you're on your sleep clothes. a flimsy tank top and panties only. trapped in his body where his arms are caged around you. he feels every changes in your body. the sudden inhale and exhale as you breath in the scent of the gun. there's a shiver in your voice and toji chuckles in amusement. your reactions similar from the way you react when he's touching you minus the gun and now, you're reborn. the discovery of dangerous other than him sends you in ecstacy. he's more than willing to indulge you in this pleasure.

the muzzle's cold in the side of your head and if toji allows it, you would be dead in the second he pulls the trigger but there's only a click as he presses the trigger. the action illicits a gasp as you roll your hips. it was only the first and you're this sensitive. how many had died in this position as he planted those bullets in their head and you're in his hold, softly moaning.

the bullets are beneath your feet. it made a clinking sound as he the bullets fall one by one as he removes them in the gun's magazine. safety first. he keep that in mind that there will be no bullets present other than in the magazine as he uses it to you.

“you trust me this much, huh?” finding it reckless of you to trust him. he's a hitman. he's killed a lot either driven by money or his pure amusement as he takes a life and you're trusting him with your life. loaded or not, you were willing to take the risk as long he holds the gun to your head.

there's a wet patch in your panties and you were not going back to the boring, vanilla shit you always both done. you were in his life now and he puts the gun between your soft creamy thighs and pulls the trigger in there, a loud moan ripped from your throat. it continued as you rubbed your cunt to the cold metal of the gun. finding it harder to get away from the pleasure it has given you.

toji grabs your soft jaw, moving it to meet your lips to his own. inserting the wet muscle to your mouth as he explores the depths of your mouth in his. this closeness, this kind of affection while you play with fire, it sends a new kind of sensation. starting from the pit of his stomach, travelling upwards to his brain. a reaction forming.

when he broke the kiss, you say something to him. “i'll die happy in your arms, toji.” you say without hesitation and for a quick second. he envisions you dead. blood pooling around your head and despite the brutality of it, you were smiling. a contented smile that you didn't die with a regret.

there's a harshness from the way he felt for you when you said that. is this what you craved when he knows that you were born in a life without violence while he, have to take the hard way to survive. you're human too, he reasons to himself. it's the same when he takes the pleasure of taking a life while you chased death.

nonetheless, this is what you want. what you needed and when he pulls the trigger again, it made you shiver. reaching the peak of ecstacy and once, you've calmed down all can toji see is the contentment in your features being fulfilled by this sick fantasy of yours.

anyways, it was his fault. he dragged you in the hell he was in and like any martyrs, you would die just for the sake of what you believe and it's tragic that you believe in him.

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑 𖥔

summary ; eddie needs you and he needs you now.

pairing ; eddie munson × girlfriend!reader

notes ; nsfw, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, kinda public but not really, fingering. let me know if i forgot anything !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

when it came to you, eddie was needy – much like you were with him.  

it didn’t take a whole lot to set you off, and the second that something stirred in the pit of your stomachs, you needed the other to relieve it. you craved eddie’s touch just as much as he craves yours, so much so that you had almost created your own language for when you needed attention.  

eddie knew what it meant the second your bottom lip would jut forward slightly, big puppy dog eyes staring back at him and he would have to pretend like he wasn’t already imagining himself being buried deep inside you. that he wasn’t thinking about the way you looked down on your knees or with your skirt hitched up, ready for him to devour you.  

sometimes you would be in the most inconvenient of places and feel his hand firmly grasp your ass, or slip under your shirt, and his lips would immediately be drawn to your neck. it was his way of telling you that he was in the mood.

though, you wouldn’t give in to him all the time, and mostly you enjoyed watching him squirm as you tell him just how badly you were needing him, showing him a little more skin or subtly flashing him, and movie night with steve and robin was no exception to this.  

it took all but two seconds of eddie seeing the glint in your eye as you entered his trailer for him to know that he was already a goner. even more so when you waste no time in pressing your lips to his, your body leaning into him and almost knocking him off his feet. had steve and robin not already been there, you would’ve dragged him to his room before he could say a word.  

“well, hello to you too,” his words are muffled against the fruity softness of your lips and he kicks the door shut behind you. his hands reach to caress either side of your head, and he pulls away only long enough to smile at you, lips quirking up at the corners, “how’s my girl?” 

you draw in your bottom lip, attention wavering to steve and robin sitting on the floor not far behind him as they try to throw popcorn into the other’s mouth, “let’s just say... i don’t think i can wait an entire movie for us to be alone.” 

you hadn't seen eddie for a couple of days and the heat between your legs was only growing with every second that he wasn’t inside you. the moisture had started to gather just from the mere sight of him and it wouldn’t be long until it became unbearable.  

a sharp breath is all that leaves him, and he leans forward, “does the castle need conquering?” 

“the castle is seconds away from falling to shambles,” you pull him even closer, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

a thoughtful expression etches itself on eddie’s face, the gears turning in his head, and it takes every ounce of self-control for him not to come up with some excuse to get rid of steve and robin. but he couldn’t do that – no – they had been talking for weeks about how excited they were to watch the new scary movie that had come into the store.  

“okay, lovebirds, get a room,” robin sneers, curling her upper lip with disgust at you both. “or better yet, let’s start the movie.” 

eddie offers you his hand, a roguish grin on his face, but before he can pull you toward the sofa, you lean in close and whisper, “just so you know, i'm not wearing any underwear.” 

“holy fuck,” he exhales, eyes blown wide as his mind is instantly flooded with the idea of you wearing nothing underneath your skirt – taunting him to know that he had such easy access to your sweet spot and all he had to do was take it.  

for almost an hour, he tries to deflect his attention, tries to think of anything else, but even after steve had put the movie on and robin had turned off the lights, all he could think about was you and the way you felt wrapped around him.  

he sits on the end of the sofa with you leaning into him, your head perched just beneath his chin and a thin blanket you had stolen from his room covering your body. steve and robin had opted to sit on the floor, the two of them practically inseparable as their eyes remain trained on the screen. you weren’t even entirely sure what was happening in the movie, other than some guy running around with a mask trying to kill people, because, like eddie, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.  

then, as if he had read your mind, his hand that had been wrapped around you, resting across your chest, slowly inches beneath the blanket to slip under your shirt, cupping your breast. you exhale, making sure steve and robin wouldn’t notice, before looking up at eddie as he adorns a devilish grin now.  

“apparently your underwear wasn’t the only thing you forget to wear tonight,” he whispers into your ear, referring to your lack of a bra, at the same time his thumb rolls over your nipple until its taunt. “just be quiet for me, okay?” 

you nod rapidly, already desperate and aching for him, and he slowly starts to inch his hand further down your body. you quietly spread your legs open enough for his hand to fit between your thighs without drawing any attention to yourself, making it seem like you were just getting comfortable.  

with steady movements, his fingers trail down to the band of your skirt, grasping at the thin material and pulling it up your thighs without trying to move the blanket. you stare up at him through your lashes, brows arching with anticipation, waiting for him to finally touch your sweet spot, when robin pops up from the floor to press pause on the movie. 

you had never seen eddie move as fast as he does to remove his hand from your core, thankfully going unnoticed as your chest races from the adrenaline. he presses his lips to the back of your head, though you know he’s just trying to cover up his laughter from almost getting caught.  

“do you guys wanna order the pizza now?” robin asks, unbeknownst to what had been going on right under their noses.  

steve is the first to nod, his hair flopping as he does, “i could go for pizza.” 

“yeah, we could – we could go for pizza,” you say, breathless and shaky as you do causing eddie to chuckle from behind you.  

robin takes it upon herself to call up the restaurant and place the order for delivery while eddie jumps up with a stiffness to his steps that only you seemed to pick up on, “the pizza is on me, just let me find my wallet.” 

he heads to his room, leaving you alone and vulnerable as you try to pull your skirt back down without making it obvious, ultimately pretending you were just fixing the blanket. though, the attention is diverted when eddie returns seconds later with empty hands.  

“i can’t find my wallet. you haven’t seen it, have you?” he makes haste of searching around the coffee table and couch for it but to no avail, even robin and steve join in the search, neither of them wanting to pay for the pizza if they didn’t have to.  

“did you check your room properly? you’re always losing stuff in there,” you shake your head, knowing that the likeliness of him losing it amongst his clothes and dnd stuff was far more likely than you cared to admit. he nods, sheepishly, lifting his shoulders into a shrug, and an exasperated sigh leaves your lips, “you two keep searching, we’ll be right back. c’mon dumb dumb, we’re gonna search your room.” 

grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you pull eddie back to his room, where everything looked normal and unturned. as if he hadn’t even bothered to look for his wallet. and that’s when you see it... his wallet... sitting on his dresser as clear as day. it’s then that you realize it was all just a ploy to get you alone and it worked.  

turning to eddie, you see that he’s already closed the door, a proud smirk plastered on his lips as he traipses across the room to meet you, “we have about three minutes before they start to wonder what’s taking us so long.” 

“then stop wasting time,” you raise a curious brow as he slowly lifts you onto the dresser. his lips barely an inch away from your own.  

he immediately takes your lips in a heated kiss, breathy and full of want, as his hands run along your body. one of yours gets tangled in his curls as the other glides down his torso and between his legs, much to his surprise. your hand is greeted with an aching erection.  

the touch causes him to jut and he moans against your lips as your fingers begin to get to work, grasping and caressing his dick. his breathing is uneven, hot, and heavy against your face. his hands are quick to assist in unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down for his length to spring up, hitting you where you needed him the most.  

your fingers begin to grow sticky the wetter his tip gets from your touch, and you steal a glance from him. his jaw is tensed, eyes almost closed, hazy with desire, and he groans your name lowly. he connects his lips with your neck, biting, sucking down on your skin, as he hitches your skirt up to reveal your cunt. so pretty and moist – just the way he liked it.  

wrapping your legs around him, prompting him to line himself up against you, he slowly glides himself up and down before entering your needy little hole. you can’t help but gasp at his thickness and it gets harder and harder to control your breathing when he’s working you open, his teeth leaving marks of sweet pain over your tender skin.  

deciding that he’s moving too slowly, you clasp your thighs harder around him, pushing him to fill you entirely. you have to throw your head into his neck to stop yourself from crying out, teeth clamping down on his skin while he waits a beat for you to adjust to his considerable size. and then he starts to move, slowly growing faster. his pace is rough and reckless – someone missed you.  

you know you don’t have time to savor the pleasure, you needed to get to work before steve or robin came barging in. you start to push back against his rhythm, squeezing him until you feel his legs start to give way. he’s close.  

his thrusts are fast, hard, making your body shake. he’s giving you all he’s got. 

“y/n... you first... cum for me,” he whispers in your ear.  

it only takes two more thrust for a wave of warmth to shower over you as he keeps pounding you through your orgasm. his arms tighten around you as his hips gyrate, pushing himself as deep as he can before filling your hole with his secretion.  

“fuck, eds,” you cry out, though it’s muffled by his hand as he slowly pulls out of you, watching as his liquids spill from you and into a puddle on the dresser.  

gently he helps clean you up and step back on the floor, pulling a pair of sweatpants from his drawer. kissing your trembling thighs, he removes your skirt and helps you slip on the pants.  

“we should probably get back,” he snickers, offering you his hand and grabbing his wallet with the other.  

as you exit the room, robin and steve seemed to have given up the search for eddie’s missing wallet. both of them laying on the floor throwing a ball to one another.  

“did you find it?” steve asks as the two of you approach, and you snatch it from eddie’s hand to show that you did.  

“i told him he just wasn’t looking well enough. found it in his dresser,” you faux roll your eyes and return to your seat on the couch with eddie.  

robin eyes you up and down, “i take it you also found them in his dresser.” she points to the grey sweatpants you now adorned. 

you open your mouth to answer at the same time the doorbell rings, saving you from the question. eddie simply tosses his wallet to steve and he and robin answer the door. when you look back to eddie, he has an all too familiar look in his eyes and you know that your night is far from over.  

[fxrmuladaydreams]

drunken bets (cs55)

carlos x mclaren social media!reader

summary: carlos makes a bet with a few other drivers, claiming that he can get you, a new (introverted) mclaren employee, to fall for him

notes: what can i say? i love writing driver x mclaren worker apparently 😂 i think it’s because she can be bffs with lando and oscar and that makes me soft. someone had to be the villian/bad influence so i’m sorry drunk pierre/lance. i hope you guys like the “she fell first, he fell harder” trope

next part

The music in the club blasts through the speakers. Drinks are thrown back as warm bodies dance, or more so grind, against each other to the beat.

Carlos feels the buzz from the alcohol coursing through him. He takes drink after drink. He deserves to relax after this race weekend, hangover be damned. He’s approached countless times by girls looking to spend some time with him, all to which he brushes off, choosing to go home alone at the end of the night.

“C’mon man, what’s up?” Lance asks as Carlos sends another breathtaking girl away. “You’re just not in the mood?”

“I don’t think he can do it. I think he needs his “smooth operator” title revoked.” Pierre drunkenly laughs.

Carlos scoffs, pushing Pierre away by his shoulder. “I could get any girl I wanted. Try me.”

Pierre grins and nods. “Alright,” he looks around the club and nods to a blonde at the bar. “How about her?”

Lance shakes his head. “No, that’s too easy. She’s been staring at him all night.”

Pierre points out a few more girls, all of whom have already expressed some kind of interest in the Spanish driver, until an idea pops into his head.

“What about that new McLaren girl?”

Carlos knew who he was talking about almost instantly. You were a newer part of McLaren’s marketing team. While most others from the team could be found creating content with the boys, you tended to keep yourself behind a computer. Lando said you were hired to do things like edit videos or photos, more behind the scenes stuff.

Others had taken an interest in you when you had shown up. A few engineers or pit crew from other teams attempted to get closer with you, all while you turned them down with a quick no. Hell, even Pierre tried to shoot his shot, but you very quickly shut him down.

You tended to stick closer to Lando and Oscar, both boys somehow able to get you to open up to them.

“You mean Y/n? She won’t date anyone.” Lance shrugs.

“Yeah, so I don’t think Mr. Smooth Operator could get her to date him.” Pierre smirks.

“I could.” Carlos is quick to defend. “Easy.”

“Alright then, let’s make this interesting. You get Y/n to have actual romantic feelings for you, and I’ll give you one hundred euros.”

Carlos reaches his hand out for Pierre to shake. “Deal.”

Carlos wakes up with a pounding headache the next morning, the sun streaming in way too bright through his hotel window. He drags himself out of bed and into the shower, attempting to feel a little more like a human before he actually has to go outside and face the world.

He eats a simple breakfast, something that doesn’t make him feel like he’s about to puke his guts all over his plate. Then he finally starts to pack his suitcase for his trip back home.

He checks his phone before pushing it into his pocket. He sees a few message notifications from Pierre and Lance.

From Lance

Insane night last night. I never want to drink again.

From Pierre

I honestly don’t remember much from last night, but I do remember a bet, and I can’t wait to be 100 euros richer

Carlos groans as he remembers the bet he made the previous night. There’s no way they’re going to let this go, they’ll make sure it hangs over his head until the end of time.

A selfish part of him wants to go on with the bet, to prove that even though he’s had some time being single for a while, he’s still a hot ticket item in the dating world. It wouldn’t hurt his image either, he thinks. If he’s seen pursuing and dating someone who isn’t a model it could make him look like he’s matured, like he’s ready to settle down instead of spending his nights in different beds wherever they travel.

From Carlos

I think you mean 100 euros poorer

The next race weekend he makes it a point to hang around the McLaren garage. No one’s surprised to see him there, given his close friendship with Lando, so the striking Ferrari red practically goes unnoticed in the sea of papaya.

He keeps an eye out for you as he sits with Lando, excusing himself when he spots you making your way towards them. You’ve got a set of headphones on over your ears, clearly enthralled by whatever you’ve got playing on the tablet you’re holding.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts walking in your direction, scrolling through whatever social media app he happened to quickly open. He walks until his shoulder bumps into yours, a little too rough, nearly knocking the tablet out of your hands.

Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you upright, and manages to catch the tablet with his other hand.

“Are you alright?” He asks, flashing you a smile.

You nod and take a step back from him. “I’m okay, are you?”

He swipes a hand through his hair, then holds your tablet out for you to take. “I’m good. It’s Y/n, right?”

“Yeah, I’m at McLaren.” You tilt your head towards the McLaren garage.

“Yeah, I can see that.” He laughs, glancing down at your papaya team kit.

“Right, sorry.” You laugh. “I should probably go, filming and editing to do and what not.”

Carlos gives you a smile and a nod followed by a quick goodbye. He brushes his arm against yours as he walks away. He has to keep himself from looking back at you to see your reaction, but gets a text from Lando later in the day that gives him the satisfaction he was looking for.

From Lando

What did you do to my editor?

The next time Carlos sees you, he recreates your first meeting, bumping into you just so he can wrap his arms around you again.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He laughs, holding you.

You laugh with him and shake your head. Your hands rest against his chest from attempting to catch yourself. “We really do.”

He smiles as he lets go of you, but keeps himself planted where he’s standing, giving you his undivided attention.

“I saw the recent McLaren video, it was really good. It kind of makes me wish you worked here when I was with McLaren.” He says tilting his head up teasingly.

“It’s mostly my coworkers, I pretty much just make it look good after it’s filmed.” You tell him, you duck your head down to avoid his gaze.

“Still.” He shrugs.

He’s pulled away by Charles after that, who gives you a quick hello before dragging Carlos back to Ferrari’s garage.

You see Carlos a lot more now around McLaren. You chalk it up to his friendship with Lando, but you begin to notice his seeking you out. He shares meals with you now, even if he ends up sitting with you while you’re focus is locked on your laptop.

Carlos is surprised to find that he’s started to genuinely enjoy your company, that he actually looks forward to seeing you every race weekend. He shakes away the feeling that blossoms in his chest whenever he sees you, afraid of becoming too attached.

That all flies out the window when he’s headed back to his hotel one day though. Dark clouds covered the sky, turning it almost black as rain poured down. You could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, likely headed towards the track.

Carlos sees you standing under the awning of McLaren hospitality, looking up at the sky. You’ve got your phone in your hand and a disgruntled look on your face.

He lifts his bright red umbrella up over his head and dashes over to the McLaren building. He puts his umbrella back down once he’s standing next to you, shaking the drops of water off.

“Did you forget an umbrella?” He asks.

You turn away from your phone to look up at him. He’s got a teasing smile on his face. The humidity in the air has made his hair impossibly fluffier, but somehow still picture perfect. He’s bundled up in a Ferrari windbreaker, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah. And I walked here from the hotel today, so I can either try to get a taxi or I can wait until the weather clears up.” Just as you finish explaining your problem thunder booms above you.

Carlos shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I’m not letting you walk out in this.” He gestures to the sky.

“Well the other option is find a taxi.”

“I’ll drive you.” He says it as if it’s an obvious solution. Before you can respond he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him so that you’re both under his umbrella, then starts walking towards the parking lot.

You try to keep up with his pace, occasionally bumping into him, but he makes sure to hold the umbrella over the both of you. He leads you to his car, and holds the umbrella over you as you climb into the passenger side.

You notice how water clings to his hair, drops falling down his coat on his right side, evidence of him prioritizing keeping you dry over himself.

“Carlos, you could get sick, and it’d be my fault.” You scold him.

He shrugs and gives you a smile. “Then you’ll just have to nurse me back to health.”

He parks at the entrance to the hotel McLaren had booked, and walks you into the building. When you expect him to leave, he places a hand on your lower back guiding you to the elevator. He walks you all the way to your door, and leaves you with a “goodnight” and a soft squeeze of your hand.

You get a text from him later that night.

From Carlos

Lando gave me your number. What time should I pick you up tomorrow?

From Y/n

You don’t have to, that’s okay

From Carlos

That’s not an answer cariño

You feel yourself start to smile at the message on your screen and text him what time you usually leave.

He picks you up the next morning, driving you to the track with him. You make conversation about little things like how you slept and what you had for breakfast. He’s quick to run over to your side of the car to open the door for you, and keeps himself close to you as you enter the paddock.

He meets you at the end of the day as well to drive you back to the hotel. He keeps up this new routine each race weekend following. He enjoys your company, and you seem to enjoy his. After a few weekends you could say you have a new chauffeur in the form of a Ferrari driver.

With this new closeness to Carlos comes a wave of media attention you should have expected. Photos are posted over social media of the two of you walking together, you looking up at Carlos with bright eyes, or him looking down at you with his doe eyes.

It’s easy to tell that all of the new attention makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t want to lose your friendship with Carlos so you stick it out. You’re grateful when you see a clip of an interview with Carlos where he’s asked about you, and he sets the record straight.

“There’s nothing going on, we just like to hang out together. We’re just friends.” He smiles.

Although you’re glad he’s put an end to the speculation, you can’t help but feel like your recent hangouts have been only barely platonic. After the nights you’ve claimed are “movie nights” that have turned into falling asleep in each other’s arms, it’s hard to put a platonic label on your relationship.

The first time it happens, it’s you who wakes up first. His chest is warm beneath your head, and his arms lock you against his body. You tilt your head up to look at him. His hair is unkempt, yet still looks effortlessly good. You reach up and brush a few strands away from his face. You watch him for a few minutes, wondering how you were so lucky to be spending your time with someone so beautiful. You rest your head back on his chest and let sleep wash over you again, listening to the soft beats of his heart.

Carlos wakes up not long after you’ve gone back to sleep, lifting an arm to run a hand through his hair. He can feel the little puffs of air from your breathing against his chest, his heart melts when you subconsciously nuzzle your face deeper into him to get more comfortable. You look so sweet, so soft, and a part of him hates himself for it. He let himself accept that stupid bet, and he let himself fall for you. He wishes he’d never let his friends talk him into making that bet, but he also decides he’d never trade the time he’s spent with you for anything.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when you slowly lift yourself up off of him. He misses your warmth as soon as he can’t feel it anymore.

The two of you continue spending your evenings together, wanting nothing more than to keep falling asleep wrapped up in one another.

He finds himself searching for you in the crowd at parties and events, even those he knows you won’t be at, just so he can spend more time with you. He texts you everyday you’re apart to make sure that you’ve eaten and gotten enough sleep.

Carlos can’t bear the thought of being away from you for more than a week between races. He casually mentions that he’s going back to Spain for the small break, and asks if you want to join him.

You laugh and scoff shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious, it could be fun. You could relax a little bit. I could take you on my boat. C’mon.” He persuades you.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time off.”

“You’re not. I want you there, I promise. Please?” He takes your hands in his, swinging them back and forth. He gives you his best puppy dog eyes and bats his eyelashes at you.

“Alright, I’ll go with you.” You sigh, but can’t stop the smile from spreading over your face.

It’s different, sharing a space with Carlos outside of the four-walled hotel rooms you’ve stayed in for work. It feels intimate being with him in his home country. He books a private villa to stay in on the beach.

The trip quickly feels more romantic than friendly, what with him cooking your dinner for you, and your evenings in either the hot tub or curled up together on the couch.

You spend your days with Carlos on his boat. You reading a book you brought with you, and Carlos laying out in the sun to tan.

It’s hard not to stare at him, his tanned toned chest on display, while his swim trunks hang low on his hips. He has just as much trouble keeping his eyes away from you as well, he can’t help but watch you as you scamper around the boat in a different little bikini everyday.

Occasionally he convinces you to hop in the water with him, to which you reluctantly agree. You keep your arms locked around him when you feel something brush against your leg in the water. Carlos keeps a firm hold on your waist as he can’t stop laughing at your distress.

Eventually you get back on his boat and sit side by side on the edge, with your feet dangling in the water. You stare down at the crystal blue sea, looking for any creatures swimming around.

Carlos looks back out to the shore. The smile that’s been plastered on his face for the last few days falls when he sees a figure on the beach. They’re far enough away that he can’t really tell who it is, but close enough that he can see the camera in their hands.

He leans back and grabs a towel, laying it over your shoulders, covering up the skin you had on display. He wraps a protective arm around you and pulls you closer to his chest, in hopes that the photos he knows will be everywhere in a few days won’t be clear enough to reveal you in them.

That night he decides to cook on the boat, which turns out to be a little more chaotic than he’d originally planned. He struggles to keep everything straight, but finds it all worth it in the end when he gets to see you surrounded by the sunset. You look breathtaking, looking out into the sea. The soft breezes wisps your hair away from your face. The sinking sun casts a gold light to wash over you.

He wants to tell you how he feels, but he knows he needs to come clean. Maybe you’ll forgive him, he hopes you will. He needs to put this in the past so that he can love you publicly and wholeheartedly.

You quietly share your meal, then break the silence simultaneously.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

“Carlos-”

“You first.” He nods.

You take a deep breath. “Carlos, I want to thank you for bringing me here, and really for spending all this time with me. I’m glad you bumped into me at the paddock because I’ve gained a new friend from it. You’re one of the best men I know, and I really appreciate you taking care of me.”

“Thank you.” He feels his chest tighten at your words.

“The truth is, I’ve come to care about you a lot more than I thought I would. A few of the other drivers tried to ask me out when I was first hired, but I told them no. I was happy when you didn’t try to make a move on me, and instead wanted to pursue a friendship with me.” You look down at your hands, and fiddle with your fingers. “But if you did try to make a move on me now… I don’t think I’d mind it…” Your last sentence comes out quieter than the others.

“Really?” Carlos asks, a soft smile growing on his face.

You clear your throat. “What were you going to say?”

He can’t tell you now. He can’t poison this perfect moment, after you’ve confessed your feelings to him.

“I was going to say that I feel the same way.”

[heartfullofleeches]

Could we maybe see the first meeting between fast food worker reader and the handpit

"Y/n! Some kid lost his teddy in the ball pit!"

You peel yourself from the breakroom chair with the minuscule amount of energy you had regained from it. You learned the first week on the job to never expect a moment of rest, but that didn't make losing precious break time any better.

The ball pit had been a pain since its reopening a full week back. Customers loosing precious items, child claiming to have been scared out of the pit by a scary monster. In defense of the first thing it probably isn't the greatest idea to wear great grandma's wedding ring to a restaurant where the police leaves the phone on the receiver when they call in.

You enter the main area. A parent shouts at the cashier while clutching a sniffing child's name; a glimmer of hope in their eyes as you walk out.

"This is exactly why I don't let my children into those disease pools! If you don't bring my son, his toy this entire franchise is going under!:

Your coworker's eyes water. You throw them a thumb's up as you pedal to the playarea. It's common knowledge you're in this nightmare together so most helped one another when they could.

The play area was your average child's environment. Overhanging tubes leading to a twisting slide. Colorful walls and statues of the mascot looming in watch. The ball pit. The windows to the parking lot had been painted over after similar reports of odd behaviors outside.

You walk over to the wall where the net for such occasions was stored, but it's gone. Figures. Nothing's easy around here. You pop your shoes off and squeeze them into a cubby as per comand of your commerical marketed overlord. You fish around at the top before doing as expected and climbing into the pit when you can't find it on the surface sweep.

The balls come up to your waist, but you can feel they go further than that as you kicking through them. The ball pit was as big as your average swimming pool, so you definitely had your work cut out for you. Better than being screamed at by customers from hell you suppose.

The search is gruelling. Each ball you push out of the way is replaced by a tidal wave of more. You unknowingly sink down to your chest as your frustration rises. It feels like the pit hasn't been cleaned in ages either. Some of the balls sticky and wet, and you're poked and stabbed at by objects were too thin and hard to be a plush bear-

What was that?

You freeze. A pocket forms in the sea of balls to your left, sucking the plastic orbs into themselves like a technicolor sinkhole. You figure its because you had previously just lift that area and swim forward. Something tugs on your pant's leg mid stroke, but your other foot kicks it away as you move. As the lights flicker you get the feeling someone is messing with you.

"Not funny!"

So much for being a team player. You better hurry and find this thing so you can head out early today. About tew feet in front of you, the bear's button eye watches your struggle. Stopping it, you dart towards it, but it sinks into the pit. It then reappears another foot away.

"What the hell.... This really isn't funny.."

You try again. It disappears. This time it teleports behind you. Stagnate in the spherical waters, you watch as the bear disappears and pops back within view in a different location. Sometimes it's at the end of the pit, sometimes it's mere inches away. This definitely isn't right. You need to get out of here. As you swim for the ledge, something drags you below.

You kick and flail, a scream fighting its way up your chest that you shove right back down to save energy. You can't breath. Your body feels weightless like you're swimming in a lake, yet the same air as falling out of the skin. Hands grab at various parts of yoir body. Items flash by as you're dragged further. Ancient photos, priceless watches- name tags.

As a hand wraps around your throat, you scream.

"You..."

Your plunge takes an abrupt stop.

"We did not recognize you at first, but that voice. It is unforgettable."

The hands turn you over. You can't tell if it's onto your back or your stomach. All you really can see is the plastic balls, but if you squint you can make out two white dots in the endless sea.

"So this is your face. We have only seen it in passing from your memories. How peculiar is man that in our eons of evaluation, your cerebrum is the single power that has twine our minds into one? In this "pit" of all things."

The hands stroke at your face; force your eyes to remain open. They carcass your tense form, easing your body but not your spirit. You want to cover your ears, but you can't. The voice is so loud; what feels like millions cramming into your small brain at volume which makes your teeth rattle with each syllable. In the same vein, it is the softest melody you've ever heard - splitting your fragile mind in two and sewing it together again with its gentle hush.

"You are different. You cannot enjoy us. The honor of being your new home would be wasted with your mind lost to the masses. You are to remain in this establishment until we decide what to do with you."

The hands center on your torso and push you upwards. Light pokes through the spaces between the balls as you're forced to the surface of the pit. The teddy bear lays on your chest as you surf atop the balls, staring down as if it's wondering the same thing as you.

What the fuck just happened

[somejazzinthemorning]

tightrope. 11

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warning: Mature content Word Count: ~18K

It takes a lot to understand the truth when it is covered under years of hearing the same words. The word exploded around me, in screams and chants, confetti and champagne, but it all felt dull because when the phone rang the following morning, it was not “Papà” that was written on the screen.

It was not the day before, either. Or the days that followed.

Monday morning. 10 hours past the race, and Dad had not called.

Rio called right after the podium. The words tumbled from my lips, breathless and infused with the rush of adrenaline when I picked up the phone from Rocco’s hands and accepted the call. Racing down the pitlane, phone pressed to my face, I could feel the dampness of champagne against my skin and Rio’s voice erupting from the other end of the line, from the other side of the world.

“Eva! What the hell?!”

I was shaking—every cell in my body reverberating with the thrill of what we’d just accomplished. Time seemed slowed down, every detail around me sharper, more vibrant. My skin was covered in goosebumps, a mix of elation and disbelief coursing through me. My lips tasted of champagne, the sweet fizz lingering on my tongue. As my eyes flickered around the pitlane, taking in the sight of the small crowd of mechanics waiting for us at the end of the pitlane, the flags waving on the stands and the vibrant colours of team gear in the pitlane, a loud chuckle left my trembling lips, my fingers grip stronger on the trophy.

Reality seemed distorted, stretched over whatever material dreams were made of.

“A podium finish, Rio! A fucking podium finish!” My words blended in the cacophony of the team’s cheers, a symphony that echoed through the pitlane, now replacing the sound of the engines that had filled the air for the past six hours.

Ahead, Alexei, Alessandro Bianchi for more official affairs, set the pace. His legs were so long and quick it seemed like he was almost running. He was the one driving the car during the final laps. As for Henrik and me, we spent those last laps in the garage, our attention fixated on the car and the unfolding Corvette narrative. Shifting from that nail-biting tension to becoming drenched in a cascade of champagne, it was the blink of an eye.

Henrik's arm found its way around my neck, playfully pulling me into him. His tall frame towered above mine. “Time to drop the phone, DiMaggio. Let’s join the fiesta!”

“It’s my brother. Give me a minute.” I looked up, meeting his frowning face. “Promise you. Just a minute.”

Henrik was Finnish, had hair as fair as sunlight and eyes as blue as the ocean. He just nodded, and then I freed myself from his pull, walking to the side, finding support in the pit wall.

“I knew you could do it, ‘Vita. Sooner or later!” I pressed the phone against my ear, attempting to amplify my brother’s voice. “Get your head right, and everything else will fall into place. Look at what you just did.”

“I drove for less than 2 hours—”

“And you put the car exactly where it needed to be.” There was a genuine awe in my brother’s voice, something that I wasn’t quite used to listening to. Dad wouldn’t react this way. As a matter of fact, he didn’t react at all. “Those overtakes! That place must be going wild for you right now.”

I laughed, looking ahead. Alexei was climbing a mechanic’s back, his 36 years of age eclipsing as his face went full of joy and he looked like a child.

“Yeah. It’s… pretty insane.”

“The race ended less than half an hour ago and we’re already hearing your name all over the hotel. And we’re just having breakfast. You have no idea.” I’ve never heard Rio speak so fast in my life. A clatter resonated from Rio's end as if he was dragging a chair, and then his voice returned. “By the way, your timing is impeccable.”

“Why? What happened?”

My brother chuckled. “You managed to steal Carlos’ thunder on race day.”

“Shit, he’s starting on pole, right? Wish him luck for me.”

"No need to.” Oh. I was not ready to hear him. "I'm right here." A blend of excitement and wistfulness churned in my chest, a familiar pang of longing to be in two places at once. He wasn’t right there. Not anywhere close. “Man—Eva…” His voice rang again, I pictured the smile on his lips, as my name resonated. “You’re absolutely incredible.”

I leaned against the pitlane wall. Champagne dripped from my hair onto my face, the lingering taste a testament to the euphoria of the moment. I glanced upward, the raucous celebration of the team unfolding before me, champagne bottles raised high, exuberant cheers filling the air. Then, I looked down, at my wet fingers wrapped around the trophy,

“I wish you were here,” I murmured, my voice a soft whisper carried away by the wind. “Both of you.”

“DiMaggio!! Leave the phone!” Alexei called for me. In large, determined strides, he made his way toward me, holding a champagne bottle in his hand.

"I'll make sure to save some of this energy for when we reunite," I mused, my voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and longing.

“Hang up!” Alexei screamed, a playful edge to his tone as he quickened his pace. Henrik was behind him, holding another bottle. Their trophies had been left in the garage, on top of the car.

“Hope it won’t take long.” Carlos's voice, filled with warmth and affection, was the last thing I heard before the joyful chaos consumed me again, drenched in champagne and carried on my two teammates’ shoulders, back to the small crowd.

But then Monday came. With a throbbing headache and a dehydrated body, after a too-over-the-top evening packed with celebrations. My phone rang on the nightstand, and after picking it up, Nicola and Lin's faces filled the screen.

“You’ve got toothpaste on your cheek,” Lin pointed out, her surroundings showing the sturdy brick of her New York flat. She was back home, I didn’t know that. Somehow, I still thought she would be in Europe. “And congratulations on the race, by the way!”

Nicola sat in a dimly lit room, a soft white glow illuminating her face—by background noise that filled the air, I associated that the white glow was probably the glow of her TV. “I hate this time zone thing. Can’t stay long, sorry, hubby’s waiting for me in bed. What are you up to today?”

I glanced at the corner of the phone, noting the time. It was a bit before 7 a.m. It was probably around midnight for Nicola. As for Lin, it was a little past 7 p.m. I wiped away the toothpaste from my cheek and sat back on the bed, too tired to move.

“I have an interview today. At the track. In like, two hours. They’re doing tire testing, and James Anderson thought it would be a nice background for the interview.”

“James Anderson? The James Anderson?” Lin's enthusiasm was palpable as she turned in her chair, getting up from it seconds later and walking to another point in the room. The unsteady movement of the camera made my stomach churn. “Girl!”

Nicola laughed softly. “Eva, on a scale of 1 to 10, how freaked out are you?”

“A big ass 11.”

“You've got this in the bag,” Lin's voice chirped through the phone, her enthusiasm cutting through the fog of fatigue that lingered in my mind. “Unless you’re still a bit drunk from last night.”

“Just a tiny bit,” I admitted, flopping back onto the bed. The sudden motion made me feel queasy. “Yeah. Fuck. Not exactly drunk, but way too hungover for this. I don’t even know why I said yes to the interview. There’s literally nothing to talk about.”

“He did an amazing piece on the race. Well, an amazing piece on you,” Nicola chimed in. “I’ll post it tomorrow on the team’s socials.”

“That’s why Rocco convinced me to say yes.” I rolled over in bed, seeking a hint of comfort from the pillow and the soft comforter. “Why? I don’t know.”

“Get out of bed, or you'll fall asleep,” Nicola urged. “Also, get out of bed so I can go to bed.”

“You can go. I'll keep her company and help with what she should say.”

“She knows it better than you do,” Nicola was right. I was usually the one media training my clients, providing them with a bullet point list of acceptable topics and answers. So, technically, I should be able to do it for myself. But exhaustion from the weekend's efforts, compounded by a hangover, left me feeling drained. “Don’t you?”

“I do. But I’m just tired. I really, really don’t want to do this right now. I have a belly ache.”

“Eva, come on.” Lin moved again, her energy almost overwhelming enough to make me feel nauseated. “If you get nervous, just imagine the man in his underwear. They say it helps.”

I burst into laughter, the absurd mental image of James Anderson in his underwear momentarily banishing the exhaustion that had weighed on me. “Who says?”

Nicola threw her head back, laughing in response.

Lin grunted. “Them. People.”

"Thanks for that mental image, babe. I'll keep it in my back pocket."

As the laughter subsided, my eyes caught the corner of the screen. Time was passing. The interview was getting closer, and the reality of facing the camera was beginning to set in. Lin's expression turned earnest. "Seriously, Eva, you've got this. Stop overthinking. Just be yourself and ride this wave of success. You're on top of the world."

“That’s what scares me.”

And just like that, a frown appeared on both of their faces. Nicola's frown was more pronounced due to the glow of the TV in the background. Then, she clicked her tongue. “Ah, that’s why you wanted us to call.”

“Exactly.”

“And here I thought you were just missing us,” Lin teased. “Seriously, babe. You’ve got this.”

“Tell us what’s wrong.”

"It's just that sometimes…. I don’t feel like I deserve this? Like it should be harder than it is. Yeah, I can race. And yeah, I'm good at it. Pretty good. But the pressure? The questions? The idea that people are looking at me and expecting me to fail… I've been sick to my stomach just wondering what's happening next because that's what all those goddamn reporters kept asking me yesterday. And—I don’t know. I feel like my Dad is right. I'm not fit for this. ”

“What did that jerk say to you, again?”

“Lin, he’s her dad.”

“Yeah, and he was, is, whatever, my boss. Screw him, honestly. Eva, listen.” She paused and slid one of her lock braids to be back of her ear. “I hope you know he’s a loser, and everything he does and says is just a reflection of how much of a loser he is. He needs to control your life in a way he never got to control his—”

“Lin—”

“No, I don’t care. Listen.” She paused. Nicola took a deep breath, and I followed suit. “He’s your dad, I know. But I’ve been there and I’ve heard the stuff he says. I know him. I worked with Rio when we were both fresh out of college, and I've seen the way he treats both of you.” Again, I attempted to stop her, but she raised one finger. “And I've had enough. The fact that he’s your father isn’t a reason for him to be as mean as he is when things don’t go according to his plans. I've seen him blame Rio, in front of the whole team, for a storm on a test day because he should have known—”

“A test day. Yes, well, those are usually…”

“I don’t care. He’s your dad. He parades you around the way he thinks is best. What did he say this time?” Lin had a way of cutting through the noise and getting straight to the heart of the matter.

“A lot of stuff about how this sport isn’t for me and how he can’t understand my change of mentality in the last few weeks… How I fit better in an office. Just—a lot.”

“Of course he can’t. He never understood you at all. He’s not a good man, love.” She paused. “And I’m sorry.”

“But he’s my dad.”

“He is,” Nicola hummed. “But that doesn’t mean you owe him anything. You’re your own person.”

“Actually, I owe him my entire career.”

“Just because he has the money. And—Think: he never did one single thing for you that would risk his money. For heaven's sake, he made you race in The Challenge after you spent a year at home, struggling with anxiety and depression and he didn’t care if you were ready or not. The only thing he knew was that he was going to lose money if he didn’t get a driver in that seat. Rio was completely done with racing and there was no one available to take the remaining spot.”

“But I wanted to race.”

“I know you did.” Lin’s voice softened. “But like that, hun? From FRECA to The Challenge? We hoped you'd advance to at least any other regional series. Or that he would push for F3, he did it for Rio and, let’s face it, he’s not half as good as you.” I took a moment to absorb her words. They were raw, unfiltered truths that I had been avoiding. “It felt like you were back to square one. Doesn’t surprise me that you kept yourself busy with that college friend. Amanda, right?”

“Yes. And I still am. Keeps me busy. I can't have too much downtime, or else I go crazy.”

“Exactly. So…” Nicola interjected. “That’s not how it should be. You need breaks. You need downtime. You need to rest. You just had a break, and you had the time and the peace of mind to find your groove again.”

“I was in good company. In a nice place. And was busy with that said company.”

“See? So the issue is your Dad. It’s been what? Two weeks since you came back from Mallorca, and you just got a freaking podium, and now you’re struggling again because your Dad said things that made you overthink everything. You were so happy during the weekend, what happened?”

“He didn’t call. I thought I had proved him wrong and he didn’t even bother to call. And he’s my dad, you know? And now James Anderson is going to ask me stuff about the future my dad is holding in his hands. And I don’t want to answer.”

“Okay, let’s…” Nicola took a deep breath, her hand reaching for her hair and pulling it back. I sat up in bed, realizing it was time to gather myself. “You are holding that said future. Get the fuck out of bed, put on some makeup, and head to the track. Do the interview. It will go well. Don’t overthink the answers. It’s PR and you’re great at that. So just—think you’re one of your clients. And if your mind starts spiralling, Rocco is right there; I know he can keep you occupied if needed.”

Lin burst into laughter. “Oh, he can definitely keep her occupied.”

“Gross. He’s technically an employee.” I retorted. “And I bet he’s taken.”

“I’m sure Pulcini will be around, too,” Lin added, and I finally got out of bed, leaving my phone on the credenza, capturing me as I moved around the room and picked up my sneakers. “Or have we moved on from him?”

“We’re not focused on that because I’m working!”

“Can I finally go to bed? I want to get occupied, too.”

“No one here is getting ‘occupied,’” I remarked, slipping on my sneakers. “But yes, go to bed. I’ll do my makeup and head out.”

“It will go well, baby,” Lin said. “And if it gets weird, well, remember the underwear thing.”

The pit lane buzzed with activity, a hubbub of conversations and the clatter of rattle guns. Standing amidst it all, I found myself at the center of attention. The warmth of the sun kissed my skin, while in the distance, I could hear the sounds of the paddock being packed into trucks.

Before me stood James Anderson, his lanyard hanging casually over his chest, almost masking the fact that he wasn’t just another journalist, but the renowned James Anderson himself. Two chairs were positioned at the heart of the pit lane, a camera strategically placed near the pit wall, and a bustling garage composed the backdrop. Alexei and Henrik occupied the seats on the pit wall, their legs dangling, dressed in relaxed t-shirts and jeans. Matteo was in his race suit, totally recovered from the food poisoning episode, and ready to take on the test day.

The car would leave the garage in 20 minutes, so we had exactly that time. Not one minute more.

Despite the camera, Anderson held a notepad in his hand. His salt-and-pepper hair danced with the wind, uncovering his eyes, and sparking with curiosity. I noticed the subtle lines around them, testimony to the countless years spent witnessing greatness on track.

“Happy we can do this, Eva. I've been trying since your victory at Imola. Exceptional performance at the Challenge, too, by the way.”

I wasn’t aware of this desire to interview me earlier. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t aware he was even aware of my existence until he met me in the garage, after the podium ceremony.

"Well… now, we have more to talk about," I remarked, my smile flowing naturally. Anderson nodded, directing his gaze toward the cameraman, a signal to commence recording. "Be gentle with me," I quipped, playfully brushing aside my anxiety.

His laughter rang out. "No need to worry."

Casting a final glance at Alexei and Henrik, the latter waving at me just before Anderson shifted in his seat, reclaiming my attention, I took a final deep breath. This wasn't within my training regimen. I was nervous. My belly aching.

“Eva, let me start by congratulating you on your remarkable performance this weekend. You stepped in for your teammate Matteo Serra during the practice session. Could you walk us through how you adapted to the situation so quickly and what mindset you had going into the race?”

I nodded. My hands were on my thighs, fingers almost melting with the fabric of my jeans. Jesus. This was hard. On top of that, I could feel Alexei’s coal eyes on me, the intensity of his gaze travelling above Anderson’s shoulder, boring into me.

“Yeah, well. First of all, thank you,” I began, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The sunlight played across my face, warming my skin as I spoke. The journalist's expression seemed to relax, his posture slowly becoming more open. “Ahm—right, honestly, it was a whirlwind. Stepping into Matteo’s shoes so unexpectedly meant a quick mental switch. But that's what we’re trained for and what the team expects from me. I had to quickly familiarize myself with the track and the car's nuances… So, the team support was crucial, really. Alexei and Henrik were amazing the whole weekend,” I glanced towards my teammates, looking at each other, smiling. “We worked together to ensure a seamless transition, and I'm truly grateful for their trust.”

The slight tremor in my fingers betrayed the composed façade I was trying to showcase. I could feel the weight of the race weekend on my shoulders.

“Your performance during the race, particularly your amazing overtakes, drew the attention of many in the paddock.” The reporter went again. “Can you share the strategy and approach you took to navigate through the field and secure that impressive fourth-place finish?”

“Well, thank you again.” I chuckled softly, the sound carrying a mixture of humility and genuine pleasure. “I’m not used to this, I’ll admit.”

“Just being honest.”

“Okay—well… the strategy was a mix of precision and calculated risk. The adrenaline was pumping, and I was fully immersed in the race… And when the command to push came, and I realised the team trusted me, I just went for it. My general approach was to find those windows of opportunity without compromising the overall strategy… I mean, we had more pace than we expected and we had to make something out of it. We didn’t qualify great, what was a boomer, because we had faith we could qualify in the top 10. So, that not being the case, we had to be at 110%. The team did amazing with the pitstops, and the guys did amazing stints as well… And.. Since I was feeling comfortable with the car—thankfully I drive a similar car in another series, so it became a bit easier… I had to go for it. So, yeah—It's quite surreal to think about it now, but… I'm still in awe of how everything came together.”

My gaze drifted to the marks of tire rubber still visible on the asphalt. I could almost feel the energy of the cars rushing through the main straight, my feet vibrating with the phantom energy still running around us.

“You mentioned the team’s trust… DAR Racing's decision to extend your stint turned out to be a wise move since we could clearly see that you were getting gradually more confident in the car and risking more. At your level, with so little experience, how did you manage to maintain your focus and energy during that crucial period of the race? Did doubt quick in or…?”

This time, I couldn’t find comfort in the details on the pitlane. Anderson’s eyes didn’t leave mine. Curiosity glistened through his dark eyes, his passion and interest so clear. Probably he had noticed my state on the radio. The thousand questions I asked, how I pressed from lap times and places of improvement. I was freaking out inside the car. Properly. I wanted to go fast. Faster. I wanted to come out of every corner perfectly.

“Interesting point… Yeah—So…” I took a moment, my hands subtly trembling from a mix of lingering adrenaline and fatigue. My eyes flickered toward the reporter, his expression a mix of interest and empathy. “Maintaining focus and energy during the stint was undoubtedly challenging.” Pause. A small breath. “As the laps went by, I did feel a surge of confidence building within me but the team's strategy and encouragement played a huge role in keeping me on track, both mentally and physically.” I chuckled softly, a glint of self-awareness in my eyes, realizing the play of words. “But yeah—doubt is a natural human response in such a demanding situation. I’d never done anything similar. Or even raced for this much time. What was it? A bit more than an hour and a half?” Pause. He nodded. “Yeah. So. There’s a lot involved and a big part is the mental game. I'm grateful I had the right support system to keep me motivated through the race.”

Alexei's presence stretched through the pitlane, his supportive gaze feeling like a reassuring anchor. Henrik, with his elbow perched on Alexei’s shoulder, sent me a nod of approval. They were witnesses to the doubt, to the lack of sleep on Thursday night when I was notified that Matteo was on his way to the hospital, after throwing up for almost one hour straight and my body and mind couldn’t seem to handle the fact I would be driving that weekend.

They were patient. They made it possible.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Anderson, probably noticing the silent exchange, looked over his shoulder. Turning to me, another question hung on his lips. “You seem really in sync with the team. And all throughout the weekend, I've noticed that many drivers and personnel from rival teams came over to congratulate you, especially yesterday, during the celebrations. Could you speak about the role of… camaraderie and sportsmanship in your approach to motorsports?”

“Absolutely,” I affirmed with a genuine smile. “Those values are essential aspects of motorsports for me. Racing is not just about individual performance—it's being part of a larger community. Every driver—rather, every person on the paddock shares a common passion, and that creates a unique bond. I believe that mutual respect and support make the racing experience richer and more fulfilling. When rivals come over to offer their congratulations, it shows that we're all part of a shared journey. And that helps put things in perspective.” I paused, my gaze returning to the journalist's attentive expression. “I grew up with a lot of good examples of great sportsmen, from different ages and backgrounds. They inspire me to be the athlete I am. And I learn from them. I know and I’ve seen that being in sync with my team and everyone around me is paramount. And about the team… we're like a well-oiled machine, working together to achieve a common goal. The team’s trust in me and my trust in them is the key to achieving an environment where we can perform at our best.”

“What happens now?” Anderson leaned back on his chair, crossing his right leg over the other. “What are the plans for the future? Do you think this race opened a couple more doors your way?”

It’s PR, I remembered myself.

“Right now, I'm still taking in the incredible experience of this race and savouring the team's success,” I began, my voice carrying a blend of satisfaction and excitement. “Looking ahead, the future holds exciting possibilities, that’s for sure. But we still have a few races this year, so we'll continue to analyze our performance, identify areas for improvement, and build on the momentum we've gained. And as for my personal journey… I believe this race has indeed opened a couple more doors for me. It's a validation of the hard work and dedication I've poured into my career. It’s not been easy, and the road has been long and hard, so it’s positive to see how it’s unfolding. I'm truly ready to embrace whatever challenges and opportunities come my way. Whether it's stepping up to compete more regularly, collaborating with other teams, or pursuing new ventures—I can say I'm determined to make the most of the doors that may or may not open and strive for even greater achievements in the future. Whatever they are.”

“I remember seeing you in FRECA, and it was a shame you didn't have a chance to end your amazing 2019 campaign.” My teeth sunk into my bottom lip. I was not expecting to go so deep into the past. “Did the unexpected end to the season, with you not taking part in the last races of the season, have anything to do with the break you took in 2020 and the new route you took last year?”

“Yes, well—” I moved in my chair. “The end of the 2019 season didn't go as planned, and it did play a role in the decisions I made afterwards. However, the break I took in 2020 was primarily a result of some personal issues and the need to focus on my overall well-being. With the pandemic, that forced me to slow down, I realized that I needed to take a step back, regroup, and come back stronger.”

As I spoke, the memories of that challenging period flickered in my mind—the uncertainties, the doubts, and the eventual realization that prioritizing my mental and emotional health was essential. 2019 was supposed to be my big year, the breakout. Yet, it was an utter nightmare. Losing a seat over team politics and small-minded men, especially when I was a championship contender, felt worse than anything I’ve ever experienced.

“Can you elaborate a bit more on those personal issues?” Anderson tilted his head.

“I understand the curiosity, but I'd prefer to keep the specifics to myself.” Once again, the reported nodded.

"It's known you took a different route and you've not been driving full-time since then. Do you see racing as a hobby? It’s a very expensive one to have.” He chuckled. I moved in my seat.

Well, you would never say that to a man, I thought to myself.

“It’s certainly far more than a hobby for me. While it's true that my journey has taken a unique path in recent years, it's important to note that every step I've taken has been with a specific purpose.” I paused, not sure if I was truly conveying the message I aimed for.

2020 had been tough. Mom and Dad quarantining in Verona, with my grandparents. Rio focused on his heavily pregnant wife and, later, their newborn twins. Carlos was… doing his thing. And I was at home, being consumed by a monster that fed on my own sadness and self-doubt. I didn’t want to project that image. The world couldn’t know that person.

“As you know, the commitment, dedication, and effort required in motorsports are immense and it's not a pursuit I take lightly.” I continued. “As with any other driver, there are challenges outside racing. Some can handle them better than others. I felt the need to stop for a while and take it easy on myself. That doesn’t make me less of a driver.”

“Is this hybrid mode, if I can call it that, helping with those issues?”

“It helped, until now. A lot of other drivers have a business on the side, that’s just a small percentage of what I do. Did.” I corrected myself. “I intend to be 100% focused on racing next year.”

“What made you take that decision?”

“The timing feels right, both personally and professionally.”

“You’re on a high, that’s for sure,” Anderson said, his hand meddling with his pen. “Considering those challenges you've mentioned, how do you feel your experiences outside the track have influenced your approach to racing now?”

"A lot has been happening these last two years. To be honest, I’m still in the process of looking back, reflecting on my journey and reevaluating my goals. Especially these last weeks… I’ve reencountered some people from the past and it helped me to look behind… It helped me gain a deeper understanding of myself, my strengths, and the areas I wanted to work on. As a result, I'm feeling more like myself. Every good or bad thing that happens is a part of us. And it’s not a setback, it’s just a… detour. A part of the comeback, too.” Anderson smiled at my worlds, I smiled too. “This weekend showed me exactly that—that I’m still the girl I was a few years ago. All the setbacks I’ve found… All my experiences, really, have taught me the importance of balance, resilience, and essentially mental well-being, which I believe are essential not only for success on the track but also for overall fulfilment.”

“And as for the future? Could you tell us a bit more about the specific goals you're aiming to achieve with DAR Racing and in your motorsport career moving forward?”

“And as to the future…” I paused. “My focus is on continuous improvement and pushing my limits. And working on myself. I'm fortunate to be part of a team that believes in my potential and supports my growth. Right now, my goal is to contribute to the team's success, while also aiming to achieve personal milestones, of course. It’s all very in the open, to be honest. As I said, I'm dedicated to making the most of every opportunity and showcasing my abilities. Ultimately? I aspire to compete at the highest level, as any other athlete."

"Highest level?” His eyebrow pointed up. “What do you exactly mean?”

"Competing against the best. Motorsport offers various tiers of competition, and my ultimate goal is to eventually reach the pinnacle of motorsport, whether it's in Formula 1, endurance racing, or any other top-tier championship.” Anderson seemed surprised. I cracked a laugh and he followed. “Doesn’t hurt to dream, does it? I’m aware this journey requires consistent dedication, hard work, and especially the right opportunities. I’m just leaving it in the open." I shrugged.

"So, the single-seaters aren’t out of the question?"

"Absolutely not! Formula 1 remains a dream—more than that, a goal. While my current focus is on endurance racing, I wouldn't rule out the possibility of pursuing a career in single-seaters if the right opportunity arises.”

“That’s bold.”

“Can’t settle for less.”

Anderson laughed and extended his hand in my direction. “That’s the spirit.”

_

Amanda rented a small Airbnb in Berlin, paid for the company, of course, and located less than 5 minutes away from her client’s new store. The floor of the entrance hall was all boxes and shopping bags, greeting me as I arrived. On the corner, there was a small space for my shoes, the only free space, actually, which meant that I had to grab my suitcase and hover it over the boxes, to make my way to my room.

She had texted me just as I landed, telling me she would be at the store all morning and that I could use some time to sleep and rest and join her at the store in the afternoon. And despite being massively jet-lagged, I couldn’t phantom the idea of going to bed at noon. My body was completely disoriented after a twenty-hour flight that had departed from Japan on Monday night and landed in Berlin on Tuesday morning.

The concept of time didn’t make sense at all.

During the flight, I immersed myself in a sea of and stories about myself. The spotlight was glaring down on me, the expectations and anticipation weighing down my shoulders. “WHAT COMES NEXT?” plastered across every other tweet or headline. And, of course, I asked myself the same question.

Little did I realize that my little pastime was nurturing the little monster hidden in a corner of my mind, that I so desperately tried to ignore by eating cookies and Doritos and drinking whatever beverage they had available on the flight.

I’d said more than I should in the interview with Anderson, I realized.

In every other tweet, my name was linked to Carlos, to his dad and to a potential seat in F3 that I knew nothing about. On every social media post, a lot more comments than usual, especially after Marjorie’s Mallorca dump, where I was pictured with Carlos behind me, on the boat, his hand over my shoulder—what quickly became “proof” to our connection.

Too much happening in such little time.

And time didn’t make sense.

And my body ached.

And Even Amanda, whom I thought would be focused at work, was swept up in the buzz of the moment. There was a bottle of Ferrari champagne on the dinning table. “We will open it at dinner”, a small note said.

I couldn’t make tea because I couldn’t find the teapot, and heating up water in the microwave was just too low. I was tired. I needed coffee or tea, or just anything with a strong flavour and enough caffeine, and then I remembered there was a small coffee shop downstairs.

But I was just so tired, and so in need of a break, that my feet took me to the empty room at the end of the hallway and I collapsed in bed. Not to sleep. But just to take a break. To exist and listen to the silence, and to life happening outside, in some random street of Berlin.

The grip of jet lag tightened as Berlin’s heat added to my discomfort.

I rolled in bed.

And then I remembered that for the first time in more than a week, Carlos and I were in the same time zone. And life seemed a bit better. I stretched my hand to the phone. There was a message from him hanging in my inbox. “Call me when you land.”

“Oh, you were quick to pick up,” I said, my voice laced with traces of tiredness.

He chuckled on the other side of the line. “Yeah, it seems I can’t go too long without hearing from you. Is the flat nice?”

“It's cozy. Going to be an interesting experience sharing the place with Amanda for a few days. I had to perform some serious parkour moves just to get through the entrance because the hallway is packed with boxes. She’s not exactly the tidiest person.”

Carlos laughed softly. “As if you could talk.”

I playfully sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Virgo, if I don’t live up to your standards.”

He chuckled again, the sound soothing and familiar. "Well, just make sure you don't trip over any of those boxes. I need you whole when you get back."

"I'll do my best," I replied, a grin sneaking onto my face despite the fatigue that still clung to me. "How's your day been so far?"

We fell into an easy conversation, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. His words were like a balm, easing away the remnants of jet lag and anxiety and replacing them with a sense of connection that stretched across the miles. He was still in Italy, getting ready to fly for Zandvoort. It would be a packed week, apparently. Starting on Wednesday, all the way to Sunday. And then repeat all of that for Monza, the next week. At a certain point, he started complaining about Rio and his insistence on taking Team 55 to dinner to celebrate Carlos’ birthday, and then spending midnight together, have a drink and toast to another year.

I would be at said dinner, but that surprise was something Carlos didn't need to know just yet.

Between stories of Amsterdam and Zandvoort and how Spa had gone for him, we finally reached the topic. Japan. The podium.

“About that,” Carlos's voice echoed warmly through the phone's speaker. I settled deeper into the comfy pillows, his words soothing away the fatigue that had clung to me since landing. "You won't believe it, but he couldn’t shut up about you. I've never seen Rio so damn proud as he was on Sunday," he confessed.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. "That's a first," I replied, my voice laced with amusement. "I think he'd sooner admit to believing in unicorns than admit to praising me.”

Carlos chuckled softly, and I could almost picture the affectionate smile on his face. “I barely saw him at the garage. He was around… networking, as he put it. Even took some notes from Caco.”

“He better take lessons from the master. Guess I'll have to rely on him since I don't have Dad to do it for me anymore.” Carlos cleared his throat, and it sounded like a gentle reprimand. “What was that for?”

“You would do it even if you were alone.”

“I don’t have the people skills for that.”

“You do,” he quickly interjected. His words hung in the air, and I scrunched my nose, the silence between us perhaps conveying more than words ever could. “Are you having doubts?”

I pondered for a moment, my body shifting in bed as if searching for a more comfortable posture to handle the subject. “Hm. It’s too late for that,” I began. “I mean, it's all done now, you know? I've adjudicated all my clients to other colleagues. My agenda is clean. I've sent my resignation letter. I’m just tying up some loose ends now.”

“That’s good,” Carlos said, and then a heavy silence enveloped us once more. It felt like a looming shadow, draping itself over me, heavy and dark. “Isn’t it?”

“It is. It just…” I hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Yes?”

“I’m… apprehensive.”

“Okay…” I heard him take a deep breath, and I closed my eyes, yearning for his comforting presence. “Why? What’s going on inside?”

A warmth spread through me, knowing that he cared enough to ask these questions. “Do we really need to have this talk?”

“Yes.” His response was firm, yet there was an undeniable gentleness in his voice. I felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of vulnerability and relief. God. How much I needed him right there at that moment. “I don’t want you to carry the weight of this change alone.”

Something shifted inside me, a sense of support that I hadn’t fully acknowledged before. I let out a sigh, feeling a strange weight lifting off my shoulders. The liberty to be human, and act like myself. To have fears, and doubts and to have the liberty to be vulnerable and share them.

“It’s been a lot, you know?” My voice cracked as my throat seemed to become small. I paused for a second, just to hear him hum on the other side, encouraging me to continue. “I can’t visualize it. I can’t see myself there, because I don’t feel like there is. I feel lost. And tired. People expect me to know what I want. To know the way. To be fierce and decisive, but I'm not that person. At least not now. I'm seeing her again, but I'm still... lost. I have this… thing. An anxiety that lives here, that I can’t put on hold.”

“Eva—”

“No, let me finish. I have more than enough reasons to know I’m kind of good, to know I’m good. But there’s something screaming that I’m not great. That I’m not enough. That I should have never stopped, that I should have started racing sooner…  I mean, take my interview with Andeson.” I paused. “I said too much, people are talking and going deeper into my life, and stalking my socials and making theories about everything. I have people liking photos from 2015, for heaven's sake. And I’m refusing to go on Twitter because I don’t want to read what they’re saying.”

Carlos chuckled, his voice soothing. “That's how it goes, love. It shouldn't be that way, but it's unfortunately part of the package. Remember that’s not what matters.”

“What happens on the track is what matters,” I asserted.

“Exactly,” Carlos took a deep breath before continuing. "I know you like being in your bubble, Eva. I do too. But unfortunately, I'll have to share you with the world if we want a chance to keep your name in their mouths. And we need that chance because you deserve a great seat for next year."

I sighed, understanding the weight of his words. "Share me, huh?"

He let out a playful sigh. "Let me be a bit selfish here. I just got you back, and now I'll have to share you with the world? Unfair."

"Is it really that hard to bear?"

Carlos replied in a teasing tone, "You have no idea. Sharing you with the world? Torture."

I chuckled, his playful tone bringing a sense of lightness to our conversation. "Well, I'll try to make it as painless as possible for you. Besides, you'll always have a special VIP pass to my bubble."

He chuckled, his voice warm and affectionate. "I'll hold you to that. Now…” he hesitated. "I have to leave in… 20-ish minutes. Nap time for you?"

I sighed dramatically. "Yeah, I guess I can squeeze in a bit of sleep."

"Good,” He paused. “You need rest"

"And you're not mad about me missing the GP?"

There was a short pause before he answered, his voice sincere. "I won't lie and say I'm thrilled, but I understand. Work's work, love. And I’ll have you in Monza. We'll have our celebration whenever is possible."

I smiled, warmth flooding through me. "Thank you for understanding, even when I'm disappointing your birthday plans."

He chuckled. "It’s okay, bebé. I'll survive the birthday blues. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. And get enough rest."

"I promise," I said softly, gratitude filling my voice.

“I’ll call you tonight.”

“Counting on it.”

I nestled back into the pillows, my mind finally quieting down as I let sleep claim me once more. Our conversation replayed in my thoughts, a reminder that no matter the miles between us or the challenges we faced, our bond remained.

_

“Carlos’ birthday is tomorrow,” I said. On the other side of the line, Marjorie's affirming hum tickled my ear. “What do you give a man that has everything?”

Marjorie's voice crackled through, a touch raspy and warm. “Really good head.”

I haltered, trying to muffle a chuckle and glanced discreetly at the man on the opposite side of the counter. I couldn't help but wonder if he overheard her audacious suggestion; it was practically impossible, but his stern expression made me second-guess.

“Let’s keep it a little more PG, shall we?” I whispered, my words barely escaping my lips. “I was thinking more along the lines of a watch. You know, like a normal person.”

She giggled, unapologetic. “Yeah, your denial game is strong.”

“You wouldn’t buy it even if I tried.” I think I sounded more annoyed than I expected, and Marjorie’s quick reply and tone did indeed confirm it.

“True. So, why deny it anyway?”

I shifted my gaze to the abstract painting on the wall, and then to the display filled with bracelets and watches. The light refracted on the screens, glistening and tempting me to pick one of them up. I approached one of the displays. One of the Rolex watches seemed to smile at me.

“It’s complicated,” I murmured.

“That’s your favourite word.” She paused, the silence a bit dull, but I wasn’t sure of what to say. “But you don’t need to say a thing, you know? It’s pretty darn obvious what’s going on between you two. Seriously, even standing five meters away, it’s nauseating.”

“Marge, don’t—”

“Eva, I get it. You want to take things slow, bla bla bla, I know your speech, already. It’s the same for every boy. Nut come on! It’s Carlos! I know you always liked him. And even if he was a stranger… I mean he’s still Carlos Sainz.”  She sighed.

“You won’t shut up, will you?”

“Never.” She paused for a second, and when I thought I could speak, she started again. "We all were in Mallorca, and I've seen enough walks of shame to spot one. And it was almost suffocating near you during Blanca’s dinner. The tension was absurd.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. At least stop being weird about it.”

“I’m not weird about anything. I called you just want your help to choose a gift for his birthday and you didn’t even let me talk yet. Are you and Rio giving him something?”

“Yes. Your brother is giving him something, not sure what, honestly.”

“You’re really trusting him with that?”

“It’s his best friend. If he fucks up, it's his responsibility.” She quipped and then cracked a laugh. I chuckled silently, my eyes drifting through the small collection.

“Going back to my gift…” I brought the conversation back on track.

“Yes…”

“I left the store to go pick up some food for lunch and I found a cute little shop on the way,” I started. It was much more than "cute"—it was truly a hidden gem in the heart of Berlin. “I was thinking of something vintage, you know? A watch… with a leather bracelet, maybe. And I don’t have much time to waste because I’m leaving today to Zandvoort and I can’t get there with anything.”

“He has a collection of watches, Eva.”

“He has literally a collection of everything,” I sighed. “Hence the challenge. I want to stand out.”

“Well, I told you one way to stand out.”

"I'm trying to be a little more sophisticated here," I retorted.

"Oh, do you need suggestions for a no-smudge red lipstick?" Marjorie countered, her suggestion dripping with mischievous wit. “I can help with that.”

“Fuck off.”

“Babe, you showing up there will be nicer than any watch.”

I hummed, my feet tracing the store floors, walking the steps I’d already walked twice or thrice that evening. before calling Marjorie, I’d spent ten minutes in there, staring at the watches, and despite loving the atmosphere and the feeling of all my senses being captivated by the allure of history, I was in need of going back outside and getting some food.

Every piece was a good pick.

Each one with a story of its own, sparkling under the soft glow of the display lights, their gears whispering secrets of forgotten eras, waiting to be unveiled by its new owner.

I picked up a beautiful antique Rolex with a leather strap, the rich aroma of aged leather mingling with the fragrance of nostalgia that permeated the air. It exuded an air of sophistication, and I could already picture him wearing it under the brim of his race suit.

“I’m sending you a pic on WhatsApp.”

And after I did, Marjorie's voice came through the phone, breaking my reverie. "That one is lovely.”

“But it’s so… normal.” I sighed, feeling torn between the classic elegance of the leather bracelet and the desire to find something truly unique for Carlos.

"It’s a Rolex.” She deadpanned. “I swear to God, it’s been years since I married into this family and I still can’t relate to you all. But yeah, somehow I get what you mean. But it's Carlos. He doesn't care about extravagant."

“But I do.”

“Miss,” the shop owner's voice interrupted our conversation, and I turned to face him with a polite smile. "I'm really sorry to disturb you, but we’re about to close.”

I nodded apologetically at the shop owner, realizing that I had been so engrossed in my conversation with Marjorie that I hadn't noticed the time. "Of course, I'm sorry. I got carried away… Marge,” I talked into the phone. “I’ll call you later, ok?"

"No need to apologize," he said kindly, gesturing towards the watch in my hand. "You seem to have a good eye for these kind of pieces. Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

"Well," I hesitated, glancing back at the watch and the man before it put it down in its place. "I'm trying to find a birthday gift.?"

The old man smiled understandingly, his eyes glistening under his round glasses. "Well,” he looked at his watch. “I can spare a few more minutes to help you, miss. Is it for a friend? A family member?"

"A friend. He travels a lot, he’s a racing driver… So I was thinking of something like a watch or a bracelet, something practical that he can carry around or just… something to have at home…? I mean…” I paused, my eyes wandering through the counter, my iris meeting the shiny screens of the watch under the store lights. “He has tons of watches, and now that I’m thinking about it, he’s not a guy to wear bracelets. It’s… a challenge.”

The old man's face lit up, a raspy smoker's chuckle leaving his wrinkly lips. "Ja, I know how difficult it can be. What does that friend value? What does he like?" The man leaned against the counter, his wrinkly hand holding onto the sturdy wood, while the other one traveled to the pocket of his cardigan.

"Meaning, I think," I replied, my fingers tracing the edge of the polished wooden counter. "He has basically everything already, so it's difficult to find something. Not that he's hard to please. Not at all. I'm just very picky, even when it comes to gifts for other people."

"Meaning," the old man mused, his eyes scanning the shop's interior. "You mentioned he's a driver, right?" I nodded in confirmation. "How about something that combines his love for racing with a touch of nostalgia?"

I furrowed my brows, intrigued by his suggestion. "What do you suggest?"

The old man's eyes gleamed with excitement as he led me toward a large leather album, slightly bigger than A3 paper, resting on a wooden display stand. "I was a big motorsport fan back in the day," he began, his voice carrying the weight of cherished memories. "I even traveled to America to watch some good old NASCAR races. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to meet many drivers and collected a few things people find valuable now."

With his permission, I opened the album to reveal a treasure trove of race posters, each one meticulously preserved and adorned with signatures from drivers and team owners. The pages were filled with a rich tapestry of racing history from various series.

"Oh, are these race posters?" I asked in awe.

The old man nodded proudly. "They are all signed, by drivers and team owners, from a variety of racing series. Perhaps a poster from Le Mans from his birth year? Or... what does he drive? What does he enjoy?"

"Formula 1," I replied. And then I looked up to him. "Maybe a poster from the Spanish Grand Prix of '94, if it's available?"

The old man's eyes sparkled with recognition. "Ah, the Spanish Grand Prix of '94. That was a memorable one. I think it’s in there somewhere."

As I stepped out of the shop, the poster and a frame we picked after were inside a carton box, with a lot of tape around it. It would survive the flight, I hoped. I couldn't help but notice how picturesque Berlin looked that afternoon. The sun cast a warm golden hue on the architecture, turning even the most ordinary scenes into works of art. I adjusted my sunglasses, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling city. Cobblestone streets wound through neighbourhoods that seemed to have their own stories to tell.

With each step, I felt a little more grounded, the rhythm of my strides syncing with the beat of the city. People passed by, their conversations forming a melodic backdrop. Laughter spilt out from sidewalk cafes, and the aroma of various cuisines filled the air.

Eva: “weird to think that i once thought germans were the prettiest europeans”

Marjorie: “a loooot of layers to debunk there”

Eva: “they were mostly football players and sebastian vettel. not that many layers.”

Marjorie: “vettel? wow, that’s soooo surprising” Marjorie: ”no one would EVER guess your taste in men”

Eva: “yeah? what’s my taste in men then?”

Marjorie: “former red bull athletes that raced/race for ferrari?” Marjorie: ”duh”

Eva: “you’re so annoying”

Marjorie: “did you get the gift?”

Eva: “yes”

Marjorie: “what did you get?”

Eva: “ill show you later”

Marjorie: “ok, now you can stop overthinking and focus on the handsome spaniard waiting for you and the amazing birthday sex he's in for”

Eva: "omg�� Eva: "can’t believe you’re a MOM”

Helping Amanda at the store helped me more than I wanted to admit. I liked being busy. I needed to be busy. Spreadsheets and checklists were the perfect escape from the stress accumulating in my mind. I needed that, the sense of being in control. And if I felt like I was not totally controlling my career, still being discussed online, at least I could be in control of numbers and store openings.

"Last project as a team?" Amanda's voice reached me, her back turned as she meticulously arranged fake flowers in a jar. "I finally saw your interview last night. Full dedication to racing, starting next year."

I leaned against an unopened box, half my size, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the cardboard's surface. "Yeah, I've mentioned this to you before.” I took a break, using the seconds to take a breath. “I mean, I gave you like 70% of my clients."

She finally turned around, a plastic sunflower hanging from her fingers. "Yeah. I know. But I gotta admit, I half-expected you to stick around. Keep a client or two... Just in case."

A bead of sweat trickled down my back, my palms slightly sweaty as I wiped them against the cool fabric of my shorts.

"To be honest," I began, my gaze meeting hers. "No, I'm not entirely sure. But I don't think I ever will be. It just feels like something I need to do, you know? Stop doubting and take the leap."

She continued to observe me, her expression thoughtful. "And if it goes wrong?"

"Then I start over, just like I did a few years ago.” I settled onto an ottoman chair, taking a deep breath and picking my bottle of water from the side table. “Difference is: I have my own resources now. I have money. My money. I can travel, I can afford to try. I won't be relying on anyone else, this time."

"At all?" Her question carried a weight that made me frown. "I've seen the news. I've seen Twitter."

I rolled my eyes. "Ah, Twitter."

Her gaze remained steady on mine, unwavering. "So, are you two together or not?"

I sighed, a mixture of frustration and exasperation bubbling up. "Amanda, for once, I want to be my own person. To pursue my own dreams on my own terms." Stepping forward, I brushed my hands on my shorts, attempting to get rid of the sweat. "He's my friend, a really good one. But we’re talking work, not personal life."

She persisted, her tone unwavering. "Let's delve into the personal, then."

Turning away, I picked up a couple of the already empty cardboard boxes. "Honestly, I'd prefer if we didn't," I mumbled, carrying them towards the trash.

After ensuring Amanda wouldn't spontaneously combust from store-opening nerves, and after hearing her apologies for the intrusion, I bid farewell to Berlin. Every checklist and spreadsheet was printed and laminated, ready to be used for the inauguration. The gift boxes for the guests were carefully arranged on the counter and all the frames and backdrops for photos were set.

The airport buzzed with its customary end-of-August throng, yet, the line at security wasn’t so long.

As I dumped my belongings into the tray, the soft clinking of metal snagged my focus. My gaze drifted down, catching the glint of a tiny golden steering wheel illuminated by the airport's harsh lights.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips, swallowed by the surrounding crowd.

I’d been carrying it around since I’d left the track, half-drunk and drenched in champagne. I recalled being wearied by the day's events, too tipsy to recall the basics of Japanese and to walk in a straight line. I also remembered stumbling upon a souvenir stand near the track, my eyes fixating on those sparkling keychains. They had looked so delicate and golden, so artfully crafted that one might mistake them for actual gold if not for the 3000 yen price tag dangling from them—just shy of 20€.

Purchasing it had stirred up memories of our old tradition, those times when we'd strive to find the quirkiest gifts for each other. Snowglobes, magnets, postcards—each trinket carrying memories of the places we'd visited without each other.

"have fun at your dinner, soon to be birthday boy," I sent him a text as I settled into one of the seats by my gate.

Upon landing, a mirror selfie greeted me. There he was—a playful rogue, fresh out of the shower and sporting nothing but a strategically draped towel around his waist. A pout adorned his lips.

And as the caption: “i’ll try, but i’m feeling pretty lonely out here”

A one-shoulder black top draped over my frame, the asymmetrical neckline cutting the line of my chest. The wide linen pants I wore flowed gracefully with each of my steps, their relaxed fit exuding a laid-back vibe. My pants were cinched at the waist with a black leather belt, adding a subtle touch of edginess to the outfit. I reapplied my make-up in the Uber, after dropping my suitcases and the frame at the hotel lobby. Rio had arranged everything—a schedule so meticulously programmed that I couldn’t believe it was programmed by him.

I soon found myself standing outside the restaurant, my phone in hand as I dialled his number. Amsterdam was bursting with fans and tourists, nothing out of the ordinary for a night at the end of August, nearing the Grand Prix. Lost while observing the small crowds tracing the streets, I only noticed my brother’s familiar grin when he was close enough to trap me in a hug.

"Eva!" he held all the pride of the world in that hug.

"Hi," I laughed lightly. "Hey! I kinda need to breathe, you know?"

He released me with a sheepish grin, eyes sparkling with affection. He kissed my cheek before taking a step back. "Sorry, I’ve been saving this hug for a while now. And wow… The lipstick. Suits you.”

I put my hand on his chest, over the buttons of his dark green polo. “You're not looking too shabby yourself.”

His laughter echoed, genuine and carefree, as he linked his arm with mine. “Well, I do try to keep up appearances once or twice a year.”

“For birthdays and Christmas?”

“Yeah. Something like it.”

We strolled into the restaurant together. The anticipation of the evening hung in the air, tugging in my belly. God, what’s this feeling?

“What did you tell them?”

“Oh, you know—” Rio scratched the back of his neck. “Something about needing to take a call?”

I burst into laughter. "You literally managed to secretly arrange a flight and extra hotel room but couldn't come up with a more believable excuse for this?"

Rio joined in my laughter. "Hey, it worked! No one asked too many questions."

"Fair enough. Where’s the table?”

“At the back,” he pointed at an arch in the brick wall of the restaurant. “Have you spoken to Dad?”

“Not tonight, Rio,” I replied, pausing for a moment and turning slightly to face him. “Can we talk about all that tomorrow? It’s been a lot. I just want to eat something decent, rather, drink something decent and have a good time.”

He kissed my cheek. “Sure. I’m proud of you. Just remember that.”

Carlos was seated facing the archway, and my gaze was drawn to him the instant Rio and I stepped through it. It took Carlos a brief moment longer to register our presence. He was engrossed in conversation, his brows knit together as he spoke animatedly, his hands dancing with fervour as he talked. The room seemed to grow silent as my eyes focused on him. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, his gaze met mine.

And the world went completely silent.

His lips curved into a smile that transformed his features, smoothing away any tension. He seemed to be filled with light and I felt so weightless, I felt I could have floated through the air like a feather—it wasn't the sensation of falling for him; or falling for each other, but rather the exhilarating feeling of ascending together, drawn irresistibly toward each other's orbit.

And I felt at ease.

Rio playfully tugged at my arm, drawing me further into the restaurant. "He's so ridiculously in love," he teased with a knowing grin, watching his best friend, already getting up from his chair.

A wistful smile touched my lips, my heart echoing with silent questions. The words hung unspoken in the air, a gentle whisper carried by the currents of emotion that flowed between us.

It was warm and cold at the same time. Too much happening and nothing at all.

“Fuck off,” I whispered. My brother just laughed.

My steps quickened with each heartbeat, a subtle urgency pushing me forward, almost outpacing my brother’s pace. I had to consciously force myself to walk slowly and not betray my haste to reach the table. All the way, my eyes didn’t leave Carlos, already on his feet, his hand resting casually on the back of his char. Effortless attire—whitewashed jeans and a simple T-shirt. His hair was a charming mess, tempting me to run my fingers through the tousled strands.

Around the table, faces were beginning to light up with recognition and surprise, the gathering of friends and acquaintances slowly rising to greet us. I waved at them, “Hi! Good night,” and a soft giggle bubbled from my lips as I caught the shared amusement on Carlos' friends' faces.

“Hey,” Carlos said.

As he leaned in to press a warm kiss to my cheek, the familiarity of his touch ignited a sense of comfort. He smelled nice. His hands found their way around me, wrapping me in a hug that felt both familiar and intoxicatingly new. I reciprocated the embrace, savouring the closeness while maintaining an air of casualness as if this were an ordinary occurrence.

“You’re here.” He whispered, the small sound cutting through the noise echoing in the room.

“I am,” I murmured softly, my voice carrying a warmth that was reserved for him alone. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Carlos chuckled, his breath tickling my ear as he pulled away. "What are you doing here? You must be exhausted."

"Just a little jet-lagged," I admitted with a sheepish smile, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten in his presence. “Nothing a good night of sleep and some Red Bull tomorrow won’t solve.”

"Red Bull, huh? Giving the opponents some business, are we?" Caco playfully remarked, dragging his chair to the side, to create space to add another seat to the table.

I chuckled, playing along. "Well, a little cross-team support never hurt anyone, right?"

"Alright, everyone," Rio's voice cut through our moment; by his side, two waitresses, one of them carrying a chair and the other one a set of plates and a glass. "We need another seat here, please." He motioned to the place between his and Carlos’ seats. “And bring back the menu, please, so she can pick something to eat.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, short moments after, taking my seat. “And I’ll just have some carbonara. No need for the menu.”

“Welcome back, Eva,” Caco said, before picking up the bottle of wine and filling my glass. “We missed you around here.”

The night was alive with energy, laughter, and the warmth of connection.

It felt nice to be back in the midst of a Team 55 dinner, just like it used to happen years ago when Carlos still wore yellow or orange and we were too blind to actually read through the lines. The familiarity of faces, the shared jokes and the easy camaraderie were a comforting reminder of the bonds that had formed over time, and that he was in good hands those last years.

It had been three years since the last Grand Prix I attended by Carlos' side. He was a man, now. A Grand Prix race winner. A Ferrari driver. He wore red, burning red. The Italian anthem had played for him. Not many had that honour.

The low hum of conversation blended seamlessly with the clinking of glasses and the occasional bursts of laughter. I let myself observe the group, the connection between them all, the aura around the table. It was like stepping into the past and finding home, once again.

As the clock neared midnight, Rio leaned in with a sly smile. "I think it's time for some champagne, don't you think?"

“Oh, no, I—We have work tomorrow,” Carlos’ voice was interrupted by a chorus of boos that echoed around the table. From the archway, a waitress appeared with a tray of mini burgers adorned with candles in her hands. “Oh, you didn’t!”

His laughter blended perfectly with the melody of “Happy Birthday” being echoed from everyone in the room, not only from our table but from the other ones, too. I focused my eyes on him, only to find out he was already looking at me, grin wide and eyes glistening.

“Mate, you’re getting old!” Rupert exclaimed before hugging him. “Speech!!" He called out, his strong British accent ringing through the cheers and applause, raising his glass and prompting others to follow suit.

“No, no!” Carlos shook his head, a playful protest on his lips, as the chant grew in volume. "Oh, come on, guys."

“Stop being a chicken, mate. Come on,” my brother whispered.

With a good-natured sigh, Carlos finally stood up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He surveyed the faces around the table, and then around the room, his gaze lingering on each person before settling on me, his eyes warm and sincere.

"Alright, alright," he began, moving his hands in an attempt to hush the commotion around him. "Well, uh… Another one, right? 28!” The room grew quiet, the attention of every person fixed on Carlos as he spoke from the heart. One of the waiters passed him a flute filled with champagne. He took it in his hands and nodded, before whispering a thank you. "Birthdays have always been a time of reflection for me. A time to look back on the journey, the ups and downs and whatnot, and, of course, the people who have been by my side through it all. These guys right here.” He pointed to the table with the flute. “And I can honestly say that I am so incredibly lucky to have each and every one of you with me." He raised his glass and everyone mirrored his gesture, a sense of camaraderie filling the air. "To the team, to friendship, and to the memories we've created and the ones we're yet to make."

As the glasses clinked together in a toast, the atmosphere was charged with emotion and shared celebration. Carlos took a moment to catch my gaze, a twinkle in his eyes as he added, "And to Eva, who has been a constant source of support and inspiration. Here's to you, to your podium at WEC, and to many more victories."

I felt my cheeks burning and I tried to conceal my smile by having a sip of the champagne.

“To Eva!” My brother exclaimed, his glass raised in the air, prompting the others to follow.

“To Eva!” The room chanted, as Carlos approached me and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered.

“I hate you,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

The combination of jetlag, wine, champagne and the events of the night had left me feeling simultaneously exhilarated and tired. As we walked back, the city lights casting a soft glow around us, I leaned into Carlos, my head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me.

“Tired?” he inquired, his voice a gentle caress against the night breeze.

I nodded against his shoulder, my gaze trailing to the figures of our friends walking ahead of us. “And a bit tipsy, I think. The day just went by so quickly.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, his fingers brushing against my arm in a soothing gesture. With a warmth that seeped into my skin, he said, “We’re almost there. 10 minutes and you'll be in bed.”

“No rush, really. I still need to give you your gift and get ready for bed. Lot more than 10 minutes.”

“Okay, then…” He pondered. I looked up, noticing the way his brow furrowed playfully. A small chuckle left my lips. “Let’s say… 40, then.”

“Ugh,” I unfed, wrapping my arm around his waist, under his leather jacket. “That’s a lot of time for someone who slept like… 5 hours today.”

“You needed to rest,” his voice had that tone of concern I was not yet quite used to hearing. “Rest. Not add another fight to the list.”

“And I will rest this weekend. Just hope your driver’s room has a good couch.”

His laughter resonated in the air, the sound a welcome companion in the quiet of the night. “The best in the Ferrari hospitality.”

“I’m in good hands, then.”

We walked in silence for a little while, casually observing the surroundings. Everyone was just too busy living their lives to notice or to care he was there. It was a 5-minute walk from the restaurant to the hotel, our friends had already disappeared from view when we entered through a side door, free from the small crowd that could potentially be waiting at the main entrance.

“How was Japan?” He asked when we were racing the elevators.

I smiled, my head turning from the closed doors to his face. “Wild.” The memories of the race weekend flooded my thoughts. A chuckle escaped me as I recalled some of them. “Insane, really… I mean... The Challenge was great, and everything. But this was serious, you know? Like… WEC is serious. People saw me there. Saw what I did, you know?” He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “And this might sound super cocky, but… it was amazing.”

“Oh, you bet the world saw you. Your name rang in the paddock the whole day. And that interview you did with Anderson?”

“What about it?”

“I’m just jealous. I never looked that good on camera,” he teased, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. I laughed and followed the ping of the elevator, that now opened its doors to us. With his back turned to me, while he pressed one of the buttons, he questioned, “Am I one of those people?” Then, he turned back to me, a smug smile in his mouth. “The ones you mentioned. Do I inspire you?”

The corner of my lips lifted in a playful grin. “Do you really need to ask?" I watched as he shrugged, a nonchalant expression on his face. I rolled my eyes, “Well, you know… every time I see your face on TV, I think, ‘Wow, I have to learn something from that guy’.”

His laughter rang out, a sound that was as comforting as it was infectious. “That’s it? My handsome face is just a reminder to work harder?”

I matched his playful tone. “Well, either that or the fear of becoming the least interesting person on TV.” As he leaned against the wall, his body language inviting me closer, I complied without hesitation. I stepped into his space, still at a distance. ”I’ll let you pick whichever makes you feel better.”

He rolled his eyes before his gaze locked onto mine, a whole different haze around those orbs. The quiet hum of the elevator seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of us in our own world. His index finger hooked on the belt hoop of my pants, a subtle gesture that pulled me toward him. His voice, soft yet filled with longing, wrapped around me like a velvet ribbon.

“I miss you,” he confessed. “I was dying for a moment alone with you.”

“I’m all yours, now.”

His lopsided grin transformed into a mischievous smirk as he closed the distance between us. A pair of tender, delicate lips met mine, and I could feel the hint of his smile as I melted into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping my lips.

I lost myself in him, in the touch of his hands touching me everywhere, reclaiming my body and pressing me against him. The urgency grew. My fingers instinctively curled around the leather of his jacket, pulling him closer with a determined grip. His hands ventured to my lower back, drawing me nearer. We could have transcended into another dimension.

As the elevator doors finally opened on his floor, we reluctantly pulled away from each other, our lips lingering for a moment before breaking apart. The hunger in his gaze mirrored my own. With a silent understanding, we rushed through the hallway—stupid teenagers in a rom-com.

I felt the weight of the door click shut behind us as he pushed me against it, his lips already on my neck. Our perfumes mixed together, a scent already familiar, yet to which I had no resistance. I felt drunk on it. His hands left my waist to pull my top down and reveal my bare skin beneath. There was urgency in his touch, in his eyes, in the way he exhaled when he took a step back and took me in.

Under his eyes, goosebumps ran across my chest. Thingles shot up from my nipples.

Carlos ran his thumb over one of them, eyes studying the rose buds, his tongue peering between his lips. “No bra?” He teased, his eyes glinting.

“Though I might save us some time,” I whispered back.

“I like the way you think,” he replied with a low growl. The warmth of his breath touched my skin, making me shiver uncontrollably before his lips reached my breast.

To that, I would never get used. The velvet touch of his tongue, the particular way his lips seem to perfectly fit each crevice of my body. My hands came up to his hair, tangling myself in the silky locks as he suckled on my nipple, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak. I gasped, my head falling backwards.

Electricity shot through my body, pooling between my legs.

“I want to do something for you, today," I said.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, his eyes darkening with desire. "What?" The husky timbre of his voice sent a chill down my spine, as he undid the belt of my pants. From then, to the moment they fell on the floor, was a couple of seconds.

I descended from my heels and guided him to bed, where he sat at the edge. Then sat down, gently, on his lap, my legs spreading naturally. Slightly hesitating, he reached out, and glided his palm over my back and my ass, before tracing a path down the back of my thighs. With a more urgent touch, his fingertips burning in curiosity and anticipation, he continued until his hand reached the back of my knees and with a strong motion, pulled me nearer to him. Fuck. I quivered in his lap, a broken moan escaping my lips.

He smiled. "You like that?"

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt the heat in his eyes. Tentatively, I placed my hands on his shoulders and moved again, shamelessly grinding against his jeans. Again, a low, husky moan left my mouth and his fingers dug into my ass. He was completely dressed and I was soaking through my panties.

Cupping my face in his hands, he brought his mouth back to mine. Fierce and wet. Possessive and savage. I moaned against his mouth as his hands came up to my breasts, kneading them as I rode him harder. His touch was overwhelming, and I could feel myself getting close to the edge.

"No. Wait. I—” My hand rested on his chest. “You’re making me lose focus."

My chin was locked between his fingers, as he held my face close.

"Hm?" He groaned against my mouth. "On what, baby?"

"On you," I said, between breaths, my voice almost breaking. I forced myself to stop moving, even when I felt every inch of my body under a spell. My clit was throbbing, crying for attention. "Your shirt," I commanded, and in seconds, it was flying to the floor.

The cool floor stimulated my heated skin, as I knelt in front of him. My eyes couldn't leave his face—the strands falling over his forehead, his slightly flushed cheeks, his swollen lips. I reached out, my fingers deftly working on his belt buckle, my every movement deliberate and tantalizing. Dark orbs stared at me from behind sleep-tousled eyes, desire taking them whole. Unzipping him, I let the jeans fall to his feet before touching him over his white Calvin Kleins. I could feel my mouth watering at the imprint of his erection on the fabric.

Looking up again, there was a grin on his lips.

His thumb gently traced the contour of my bottom lip, urging it to part. Without hesitation, I complied, welcoming his finger into my mouth. My lips closed around it, gently sucking as my hands explored him through the fabric of his boxers. His response was immediate; he bit his lower lip, a guttural groan escaping as I slid the elastic waistband down, releasing him into the open.

Carlos pulled himself up in bed, pulling off his boxers on his way. His eyes wandered briefly to a spot just beyond me, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Panties off, baby," he commanded. With ease, he positioned himself at the centre of the bed, his legs parted invitingly.

Glancing swiftly behind me, my eyes landed on a mirror. Without hesitation, I followed his command, sliding my panties down, ensuring my reflection in the mirror granted him the view he deserved. Then, I gracefully crawled towards him, positioning myself between his legs with my knees slightly apart, my ass elevated in the air.

His cock rested against my lips. I moved in, sucking gently, as I looked up. He didn’t know where to look: his eyes flickered from the mirror down to my face to the mirror again. I moved my tongue up and down his shaft and then he finally looked away from the mirror and at me.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice low and throaty. I blinked up at him, confused by his words. "So beautiful," he repeated. "The way you're looking at me, the way you're sucking me off. It's fucking beautiful."

I blushed, feeling shy and exposed under his gaze. I loved the way he looked at me, with such certainty and admiration. I loved that he saw me as something beautiful. Something worth saving. I parted my lips and slid my mouth around his shaft then pulled back, taking him as slowly as I could. He tilted his head and cried out, the vibration of his voice sending a shock of heat into my core.

I smiled up at him as I shifted, angling him so he was hitting the back of my throat.

"You like this?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face. I nodded, my head moving faster. "You're going to make me come in your mouth, aren't you?" I nodded again, my eyes locked onto his. His voice was low and commanding, his grip tight in my hair. I moaned around him, pleasure radiating through me as I felt him pulsating in my mouth.

My tights moved in the air, my pussy pulsating, crying for attention.

"Baby," he called. I looked up. "Touch yourself. But don't stop. You're doing so well."

I couldn't focus on anything else but what he was telling me to do. I reached down, feeling my wetness seep through my fingers. A moan slipped past my lips as I started stroking myself, faster and faster. My clit was throbbing, begging for attention. I glanced at Carlos, watching him struggle to keep control. He looked so strained, his body tense, his torso glistening with tiny droplets of sweat. He looked so fucking good.

"You're going to make me come, baby." He groaned, thrusting deeper into my mouth. I increased the speed of my movements, my head bobbing up and down on his shaft. I could feel him getting closer, the pulse in his cock growing faster and faster.

He came quickly, his cum filling my mouth and down my throat. I swallowed, my stomach muscles contracting as I drank down every last drop. He released my hair and lay in bed, his breathing erratic. "Come here."

"He—Where?"

"Here," he said like it was obvious. "Sit on my face."

For a second, I hesitated. But then he looked at me, his eyebrow pointing up, his tongue wandering between his lips and God, how, better, why would I say no? I complied, sinking down on top of him. His hands came up to my ass, spreading me open as he took my aching pussy into his mouth. And that was another thing I could never get used to. I gasped, my hands coming down to grip his hair, now tousled and sweaty. His tongue was wet and velvety as it flicked over my clit. I ground against him, my breathing becoming ragged.

"Come for me, baby," he murmured. He was a starved man. I was his precious meal. And how good it felt to me worshipped like that. "Come on my fucking tongue."

My body shook as I came hard, my pussy clenching tightly around his tongue. He kept going, licking and sucking until I was crying out in sheer ecstasy, my hands gripping the headrest, my knuckles turning white as the sensations overwhelmed me.

I lay sprawled on the bed, my legs still jerking, tingling with aftershocks of delight, my naked form glistening with a light sheen of sweat, utterly spent and exhilarated.

Carlos approached me, his nose touching mine, making me smile. “You were so good,” he whispered just before he pressed a slow, tender kiss against my lips. My mouth parted in anticipation of his, like always. My eyes drifted closed as I kissed him back.

“Happy birthday,” I said with drunken delight.

A small humm from him was the only response I got until I felt his hands pulling me to him, holding me close to his chest. A kiss on the forehead followed that, then another, this time on the top of my head.

His hands were warm where they trailed down my back.

And then I drifted to sleep.

There was a strange weight over my belly.

A warm stream of air against my skin, rhythmically kissing my ribs. The room was dark and warm, and my head hurt. A few morning sun rays seeped through the binds, wrapping the room in a warm yet slow yellow tint. I tried to move my leg, but it was wrapped in another body. And a smile emerged on my lips.

Slowly, I stretched my hand, the touch of his hair sending shivers down my spine. Heat flushed through me when my sleepy gaze fell on him. His back rose up in perfect curves, taut muscles rolling along his spine with every breath, like waves coming ashore. My tan glowed under his brown hair, which fell in soft strands against my chest. The curve of his torso disappeared at his waist, revealing a small hollow where he had curled up against me as if he belonged there—as if that moment was what life was all about.

Hearts beating so slowly.

A silence so full of a promise of peace and security in the uncertainty.

The previous days had been so full, so messy, so… scary.

And I was never a fan of sleeping like this, especially in the summer, but if it meant to wake up to that view, my mind could change.

I blinked awake, feeling disoriented and confused. Memories from last night swirled around in my head, jumbled and hazy, until my mind slowly pieced together what happened. A long dinner, a lot of wine. Messy kisses on the elevator, even messier in bed. Slowly, the memories coalesced into a coherent whole, and I realized that I was in Carlos' hotel room, our bodies naked and intertwined. I could feel the sheets beneath me, the weight of his body against me, the scent of sex and him, in an intoxicating mixture, pulling me back to sleep.

Silence stretched around.

The sound of his breath evened out, deep asleep.

It was hot, and the logical part of my mind urged me to get up, take a shower and remind Carlos of his commitments, but against reason, I resisted the urge. Instead, I lay there, gently tracing the short waves of his hair and basking in the sight of him peacefully sleeping on my chest.

And perhaps that is what life is all about, after all.

Our intimacy reverberated in the depths of that silence that didn’t need to be fulfilled. Felt right. The weight of his body shifted, relieving mine from the warmth and when my eyes met his, he was looking up at me, a soft lazy curve on his lips.

“You’re awake,” he murmured at some point, his voice barely audible.

“I am.”

Carlos leaned in, and our lips met in a slow, languid kiss. Each brush of our lips, a moment of pure vulnerability and adoration. The brush of his fingers on my cheeks, our legs intertwined, our bodies finding comfort against each other. Wafting through the atmosphere, the deep understanding that there was no better place we could be.

“You have to go get ready.”

Carlos hummed against my jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my bare skin. "I set an alarm," he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “Why you’re up so early? It’s like…” He stretched his arm to check the time on the nightstand. “6.30.”

“Time doesn’t make sense,” I hummed, a tired smile on my face. He chuckled softy. My fingers danced across his skin, the warmth and softness of it inviting my touch. They came to a rest at the nape of his neck, where delicate strands of hair brushed against my fingertips, silently urging me to thread them between my fingers. “And someone was crushing me.”

Carlos nuzzled closer, a playful smile gracing his lips. "I plead innocent. It's not my fault if you turned out to be irresistibly cuddly."

Feigning mock indignation, I swatted his arm gently. “Excuse me? Turned out? ”

His laughter bubbled forth, warm and rich, filling the room with its infectious energy. He then rolled to his side, and as my eyes fell on his barely disturbed pillow, I pondered whether we had drifted off like that or if he had moved during the night. Adjusting my position, I turned to face him.

“It’s quite nice to wake up like this, you know?” I admitted with a soft smile, my gaze locked onto his. Carlos’ chuckle danced in the air, playful and affectionate.

“Now… Excuse me! Actually nice? Were you doubting it?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes that mirrored the lightness of our banter. “Have you seen me?”

“Oh, yes. I have.”

“So, why is it actually nice?”

“Because I thought it would be different. That I wouldn’t be so comfortable to be naked in bed with you. I mean, I saw you eat worms as a child—” A giggle left my lips. “And now I let those same lips kiss me.”

“Oh, baby, you let them do so much more. I can still taste you,” he said with a smirk, his hand travelling down to my ass and pushing me to him.

A soft laughter escaped my lips, a mixture of surprise and amusement. Carlos' playful response was exactly what I had come to expect from him. "Oh, now we're getting cheeky, are we?"

His smirk deepened, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern along the back of my thigh. My leg was now wrapped around his. "Well, you know me."

I shifted closer to him, my fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "You're incorrigible."

The air between us was light, infused with a sense of ease that came so naturally when we were together. It was moments like these that I cherished the most—the unfiltered exchanges, the unspoken understanding, the unbreakable connection. His fingers traced patterns in my skin, mine stood still in his chest, the beating of his heart under my digits—a language of touch and glances that we had grown accustomed to without even noticing. The warmth of his body against mine, the intimacy of our shared space—it all felt so right, so beautifully intimate.

Carlos propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze tender yet searching. "You know, for what it's worth,” he began.

“Yes?”

“Waking up next to you feels... right," he admitted, his tone softening, his gaze holding mine. And then, as a contemplative expression crossed his features, he shifted his gaze to the window. "You know, I never expected this,” his voice tinged with a mixture of wonder and vulnerability. "I never thought we would ever fall on the same page. Either because I thought I didn’t deserve to be seen this way by you or because… I don’t know. I was so afraid of fucking up and losing you…"

His words settled like a gentle wave, each syllable a touch on my soul. The rawness in his voice stirred something within me, a connection that seemed to reach beyond words. His touch was warm on my skin, his words so low and his voice so rough, the timbre a caress that sorted through the depths of my emotions. I laid back in bed, my hands resting over my belly, in the spot where he had been asleep moments before. It was still warm.

"I couldn’t stop thinking about losing you. Until I did. And then I couldn’t stop dreaming about having you back. And then I saw you in the garage, at Mugello, and… it all came back, you know?” His eyes dropped to my chest, and then to my eyes. “The fear of letting you go," he confessed softly, his gaze unwavering.

The vulnerability in his words was a mirror to my own heart, an echo of the fears and doubts that had once haunted both of us. It almost felt too much.

"But then… The second you allowed me to get close enough, to look at you and truly see you…” He stretched his fingers and let his hand find the skin of my chest. Over my stern, he let his index wander, from my neck to my hands. “To feel you… This is not about losing. Is it?”

“It is not,” I replied, a small smile curving my lips.

His hand wandered to my side, his thumb tracing a gentle path over my breast. I looked down, admiring the way my body reacted to him—eager shivers, a symphony of sensations awakening in its trail. With every touch, it felt like being discovered anew. Each time he touched me, it felt like being touched for the very first time all over again.

“You have no idea how much I understand that,” I murmured, lifting my head from the pillow, my lips seeking his. He met me halfway, his head tilting to close the distance between us.

So mellow and slow. Warm and comforting. And lazy. Our kisses unfolded in unhurried movements, a languid exploration of each other's emotions. Time seemed to stretch and bend, because in that space, within the circle of his arms, we could afford to be lazy. Outside, the world was put on hold.

Carlos moved to hover over me, his frame settling in between my legs, shielding me from the sunlight rays seeping through the curtains. It was all him. And the lines of his stupidly handsome body and face, enhanced by the light hitting his back.

“I have a question,” I said, looking up at him.

The corner of his lips tugged up in a smirk, as he lowered himself to kiss my chin. “Not now, baby.”

“Yes, now, baby.”

He looked up. The lines of his face were disguised in the dark room. “I really would like to start this day inside you.” He ran his hand on my side, stopping at the back of my leg and guiding it around his waist. “Can we do that?”

“But that won’t answer my question.”

“That will make me very very very happy.” He kissed my chin, again. And then my cheek, my jaw, just below my ear. I exhaled, a stupid smile on my lips. Yeah, I had no chance against his tactics. My fingers moved on his biceps, tautening under my touch as he pressed his waist against me. “Can you feel how happy you make me?” he asked, his voice low and velvet smooth.

"Hmhm," I acknowledged. And he did it again, eyes locked on mine. A small moan escaped between my pressed lips and he chuckled, amused.

I shut my eyes as he moved his hips again, this time sliding against my slick folds. So close, yet so agonizing far. I could feel my own desire and the knowledge of it made my blood boil in my veins. I wanted him more than anything, and my body needed him just the same.

"Carlos," I begged, arching my back as he teased me mercilessly. "Please."

He chuckled softly, pushing himself up a little so that his lips could find mine. "Please what?" he asked, his voice a soft tease.

Make love to me. The words erupted from a very hidden corner of my mind, still lost in sleep and trapped in the fabric of dreams.

"Please," I repeated, this time a little louder. "I need you."

"I can see that," he replied, his voice low and serious. I opened my eyes to find him looking down, guiding his cock with one hand and using the other to move some strands of hair away from his face. "How are you so wet already, baby?"

How couldn’t I be?

I couldn't answer. All I could do was whimper as he teased me again, his tip sliding all the way through my slit, poking the entrance.

"You like being teased, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and sinful. "You like it so much that it’s a shame I can’t spend the whole day making you go crazy with it."

"Yes," I gasped, arching my back to get closer to him. He circled the entrance and I pressed my feet to the mattress, my head going back to the pillow as my body ached for him. "Please, Carlos."

"Okay, baby. I'm here," he said lowly, his voice a throaty whisper. He kissed me again, slowly but deeply. His tongue brushed against mine, my lips trapped between his teeth. "I'll make love to you."

The words were like a balm to my achy heart, a balm that soothed and healed. Carlos eased himself in slowly, a slow, torturous movement that made my entire body cry for him. And then out. Even more slowly. My hands moved to his shoulders, and then to his hair, urging him back. And when he was finally inside me again, I let out a long, trembling breath.

The slick, wet heat of us was heaven. His movements were slow and deliberate, a delicious torture that made me writhe uncontrollably beneath him.

"Austria," he breathed, his head hovering above mine as he moved his hips against me, burying himself deeper inside. I opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze. "That's what made me go to Mugello."

A moan escaped my lips as he pushed even further, my back arching in response to the pleasure coursing through me. His eyes, filled with a burning desire, remained locked onto mine. "How? Why?" I managed to ask, my voice trembling with need.

"The fire," he confessed, his movements deliberate and sensual. His fingers slid through mine, our hands intertwining as he raised them above my head and thrust into me once more, the sensation more intense than before. "I didn't think about dying or getting hurt. All I could think about was you.” He moaned lowly, a fucking melody in my ears. “Your voice in my head."

I furrowed my brow, his words slowly registering in my desire-clouded mind. Sensations of pleasure and love pulsed through me as he continued to move, his gaze never leaving mine. He was taking his time, savouring every moment of our connection.

“Me?”

His grip on my fingers got stronger. “You.”

And then, in my cloudy mind, in the midst of all things I was feeling and desiring, the endless goodbyes we exchanged. His cologne mixed with rubber and oil, the sound of engines and rattle guns. The hugs at the airport, at home, before leaving and after arriving.

"Go race but don't die in there," I whispered, the words escaping my lips like a fervent prayer. He cracked a small, affectionate smile.

"Exactly that," he murmured against my lips. "And then, for a fraction of a second, I thought of dying. And how I wouldn't see you ever again."

I swallowed hard, the ache in my chest intensifying. My feelings seemed bigger than myself.

"I want to be with you."

Carlos's face softened at my words. "I want that, too, baby," he whispered, his voice full of love and tenderness, his chest pressing against mine as he caught my lips in a slow kiss, burying himself inside me once more.

And then he was moving faster, harder, and I was lost, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over me and the idea of how I had found home. I was falling. No safety net, yet the wind in my face was greater than any safety I had ever known.

-

Minutes after climax, both of us still lost in post-sex bliss and in each other, Carlos’ alarm rang on the nightstand. The room was now more brightly lit, but our bodies were still languid and sated, lost in the cocoon of our intimate connection. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the strident symphony of the alarm.

"Think I've got time for a quick nap?" I inquired with a playful raise of my eyebrow.

Carlos let out a soft chuckle as he silenced the alarm. "You can sleep while I hit the shower," he suggested, his voice still husky. "And then you'll need to get up and start getting ready, or else we’ll be late."

Feeling the weight of exhaustion creeping in, I sighed deeply while sitting up in bed. I looked around. Last night was still a confusing puzzle in my mind. And then, it all came to clarity. "Fuck!" I exclaimed, suddenly realizing, "Rio has my key card."

"Why—How did that happen?"

"What do you mean, 'how'? He did the check-in, and I just dropped my bags here at the hotel and ran to the restaurant. I—Fuck. This is on you," I threw him a pillow.

Despite my efforts, he caught it quite easily. “How is this my fault?”

“You… seduced me in the elevator,” he laughed at my words, taking a hand to his belly.

Getting up, he threw me the pillow and walked to the closet, taking a robe out of there. To be honest, half my worries disappeared while he walked naked through the room, the view being distraction enough.

"Well,” he passed me the robe. “Rio's room is just across the hall. You can pop over there, grab the key card, and sort your stuff out. I can even go for you, if you want."

My anxiety spiked at the thought of such a direct confrontation. "You want me to just knock on my brother's door and say, 'Hi, I just spent the night with your best friend. Nice night overall, but now I need my stuff to get ready.’?"

Carlos pondered the situation for a moment before responding. “Yes.”

With a sigh and a reluctant nod, I accepted the robe. I wrapped it around me, the rush of nerves tugging around at the same time. Talking to my brother about last night wasn't something I was eager to do. If there was something good about having him moving soon out of the house, was the fact that never, in my whole life, had he encountered a guy leaving my room. But there was no avoiding it now, was it?

"Alright," I muttered, summoning my resolve. "I'll go get the key card and then I’ll get ready. We meet at breakfast. But if this turns into an awkward family moment, I'm blaming you."

Carlos chuckled, his voice a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves. "I'll take full responsibility.” He picked up the second robe and dressed it. “It's not the end of the world, Eva. He’s done worse."

I gave him a wry smile, appreciating his attempt to ease my tension. "Easy for you to say," I quipped, heading towards the door. 

I mustered up the courage to walk across the hall and knock on Rio's door. Barefoot and with my hair tied in a terrible bun. It didn't take long before my brother answered, and the smirk on his face was undeniable.

"Eva, my dear sister," he said, his tone teasing. "Can’t say I wasn’t waiting for you."

"Cut it out, Fabrizio,” I moved in my feet. “Can I just get my key card?”

He feigned innocence. "Key card?”

“Come on, I need to go get ready.”

He raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "Oh, I'm sure you do.”

“Rio, I swear to God—” he interrupted me with a laugh while taking a step back and opening the door. My bags rested against his closet. I frowned. “How? Why?”

Rio's laughter rang through the room as I walked in to retrieve my bags. He leaned against the door frame, still chuckling. "Well, sis," he began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I figured, why waste the money on a separate room for you when I knew you'd end up there anyway? Plus, it's been ages since I had a chance to tease you properly."

I shook my head in disbelief, simultaneously amused and annoyed by his antics. "I should've known you'd pull something like this."

He gave me an unapologetic grin. "What can I say? It's in my big brother's job description to embarrass you whenever possible.”

I rolled my eyes, but a fond smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Alright, alright," I relented, grabbing my suitcase, purse and Carlos’ gift. "I'll see you at breakfast. And for the record, Carlos is a way better roommate than you."

Rio laughed heartily, waving me off as I headed back to Carlos' room. As I closed the door behind me, I couldn't help but shake my head at my brother's antics. On the other side of the hall, the door was closed. I knocked, hoping Carlos hadn’t yet stepped into the shower.

When he opened the door, his face broke into a grin, which quickly escalated into hearty laughter. “Guess it’s a sleepover, now,” I said.

He shrugged. “Good thing we get along well.”

I'll review the chapter again in a day or two, so I'm sorry if there are a few typos, but I just finished it. Happy birthday, Carlito. Hope Monza is good for him, this weekend. post weekend edit: MONZA WAS GOOD FOR HIM, IM CRYING HAPPY TEARS taglist: @alesainz @juliantheupsidedown @dreamsarebig (i forgot to tag people when i posted the chapter because i was just so nervous about posting this (we love anxiety) so sorry, but ill try to not forget next time) thank you all for the messages and the replies and especially the reblogs! i love you all SO much. thank you so much for the support. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. See you around. All the love, Bru 🤍

[ameliaenya404]

Apple picking

Fall was here and apples were on season. It had been a cute little tradition you had with Touya, as you'd both met at an apple orchad in the fall when you were both sophmores.

You had worked there on the side for extra money so you could go shopping with friends. It was a Saturday, the crisp air welcoming the beginning of fall.

Touya had been dragged along by his family, shoto had heard about apple picking and wouldn't shut up about it so Rei decided to take them to satisfy shoto.

Touya either had the option of tagging along or staying home with his dad. The choice was pretty easy to make.

You were a familiar face, he knew you went to the same school as him. He saw you in the halls every now and then and he was pretty sure you had at least one class together.

Biology? History? One of those.

After that incident you'd started talking a little more at school.

A little turned into a lot and it ended in him kissing you during your senior year while you guys were hanging out in his room.

Dating Touya was a sweet experience, no matter the season. But when the leaves changed colors and the temperature dropped a few degrees everything felt just a bit simpler.

"Touya," you startled him, your pretty face coming into veiw as he shut his locker, slinging his bag over his shoulder. His other hand interlocking with yours as you walked together.

"How was the history exam?" He asked, glancing down at you. Your scarf around your neck, although not preventing your cheeks from flushing due to the cold air as you stepped outside.

"It was hard," you huff, "but...I think I passed it so I'll try not to worry about it too much! Do you have band practice later?"

"Nah, most of them bailed. The guys said they needed to study for their exams."

He didn't miss the smile on your face.

"Why? Wanna do something?"

"Let's go apple picking!" The sound of excitement in your voice made him melt a little.

"Really? That's so boring. Don't you wanna go shopping or something? We could watch a movie at my place,"

"C'mon Touya pleaseee? I've been wanting to go all summer but they weren't in season and now they are! Please! I'll make you an apple pie with them," you offer as a final plea.

"Well...I do enjoy your baking...yeah I guess I can take ya,"

You continued walking home in comftable silence. The occasional sound of a car passing by or the crunch of leaves beneath your shoes as you walked to his house.

You were lucky Touya had a car, he would take you almost anywhere if you made enough plea bargins. And he'd pay for almost anything you wanted, of course not with his own money. His dad's card was usually sneaked into his wallet before you two went out.

After a little of a drive, accompanied by a pit stop to grab warm cider from a local spot, he pulled into the parking lot of the farm. You stayed seated in the car as he exited, knowing he liked to open the car door for you to get out. Last time you opened it for yourself he got a little huffy about it. Whatever made him happy you supposed.

He payed a little extra to get a bigger bag so you could pick more apples after you mentioned that along with making a pie you also wanted to try out making your own cidder.

Picking off the lower branches were easy but when you spotted a delicious looking apple in pristine condition on one of the branches higher up you glanced over at Touya, who was picking apple off the medium height branches and tossing them in the bag gently a few trees away.

"Babe!" You called out, waiting for him to look over at you. When he did you pointed at the top of the tree and he seemed to get the memo, walking over to where you were.

"How?" He asked once he reached you.

"Lift me up!"

You watched him think for a minute, before he moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your hips and lifting you with ease.

Pros of having a strong boyfriend.

It was easy from there to extend your arm and pick the apple off it's branch, picking two other ones that looked nice before he lowered you back down onto the dirt path.

"Thank you, baby" you smile softly, going up on your tip-toes to leave a kiss on his cheek before dropping the apples in the bag with the rest.

You went back to his house later with a plethora of red healthy apples. He leaned against the kitchen counter as you baked the pie, working on the cider while the pie rised in the oven.

"How did I get so lucky?" He said suddenly, watching as you turned to face him, pausing slicing the apples into small cubes.

'You're sweet," you giggle, coming over to him and cupping his face. Giving his cheeks a light pinch before giving him a peck on the lips. "Movie later?"

"Yeah, sure doll."

[divine-misfortune]

Swiss had reached out and playfully ruffled his sweaty hair after Phantom pulled his helmet off. He grinned broadly as he praised him for his first ritual, and like his enthusiasm was contagious, Phantom found himself smiling, smiling stupidly at that. The little chuckle Swiss spared made something warm settle in his chest. Easily warding off the pinpricks of doubt.

When he withdrew to continue on backstage, Phantom physically sagged. He almost reached out to grab Swiss by the wrist. But he didn't. He had enough self control to keep his hand at his side, even if his fingers still twitched with a pitiful need. Despite that restraint, Swiss still noticed the poor bug's face fall when he moved on from him, the flicker of disappointment from the corner of his eye was almost missable.

And later on the bus when the buzz of adrenaline in the air had seemingly died down as most of the other ghouls had either slipped off to bed or were forcibly dragged into a bunk for, as Mountain called it, mandatory cuddle time, Phantom couldn't even think of sleeping.

The quintessence ghoul was wired. He'd barely forced himself to stop pacing the length of the bus, brain far too busy for rest. Without the distraction of the others, Phantom was left in a weirdly sharp silence. There was too much room for him to think, and nothing coming to mind was remotely pleasant.

Mistakes, too many of them to be acceptable. All of his sharp notes and missed cues were digging away at him, leaving a gaping pit in his gut. He'd been warned that there were big shoes to fill, but it felt like he'd hardly even stepped into them. Disappointment itched under his skin and he busied his hands repeatedly combing through the ends of his hair in an attempt to self soothe. It barely did the job but it was something to focus on.

Padding up and down the narrow aisle between the bunks eventually earned him the attention of a very groggy multi ghoul. The thin, and honestly sorry excuse of a privacy curtain was tugged back and Swiss' head poked out. He looked just as tired as Phantom felt.

"Hey," Swiss whispered as he propped himself up on his elbow, head lolling heavily towards his pillow like he just might sink back into it at any second "Surprised you aren't sleeping, Rora straight up passed out the second we got on the bus."

"...Can't sleep." Phantom shrugged and twisted a loose strand of white hair around his index finger, "sorry if I woke you."

"Hadn't nodded off just yet..." Judging from the lazy way he blinked, he was lying. "You okay?"

Phantom opened his mouth but felt his throat unwillingly tighten before any sound could get out.

I fucked it up. I ruined the first fucking song. Copia hasn't said a word to me since before we got on stage.

He didn't trust himself to speak like this. Not while his brain felt like tearing itself apart. He bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged again, a feeble smile forced onto his face. It surely didn't meet his eyes.

Swiss frowned.

"Wanna talk about it?" He shook his head abruptly and Swiss's brow furrowed for a moment in thought before patting the edge of the bed. "Okay, we don't need to talk then, c'mere."

Phantom paused fully, even the restless way he combed through his hair stilled. He tipped his head.

"Trust me?"

For a moment Phantom rocked back on his heels. He could very well shake his head again and slink back to his own bunk. Curl up against the wall and keep his problems to himself. There were a dozen or so more rituals to get through, he couldn't just go crawling back to his pack mates like some sad kit every time he made a mistake. He needed to learn to live with it.

But Swiss looked at him kindly. He waited patiently in the silence that Phantom was allowing to drag on. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a step forward and felt a faint heat in his cheeks when that same grin made a reappearance. More lopsided this time, but it held the same sort of warmth to it.

It was an awkward fit, getting them both in such a narrow space when Swiss was bigger and broader than Phantom in most senses, but Swiss dutifully pressed his back to the wall and allowed him the space to get comfortable. They'd never been close like this as far as Phantom could recall, and he hoped Swiss couldn't hear the way his pulse rattled in his rib cage. Even in the dark, he could see the fine details of the older ghoul's face. Most notably, the way decades of joy had etched soft lines around his eyes and mouth. Part of him wanted to reach out, touch them delicately, and hope for the same in time. He chose to keep his hands clutched to his chest instead.

Phantom inhaled shakily as he settled under the blankets and tried not to pay much attention to the sweet musky smell that washed over him. Gentle waves of something oddly comforting pulling the tension from his shoulders.

"Hi," Swiss hummed. He seemed pleased with himself, watching the quintessence ghoul through heavily lidded eyes.

"...Thought we didn't have to talk."

The multi ghoul chuckled under his breath with a nod, "I did, didn't I? One more question and no more words, deal?"

"I guess."

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Phantom felt his stomach flip in the hollow space it seemed to exist in. There was a sudden spike in his gut, not exactly anxiety but close enough to panic for him to notice. He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt.

"Y...Yeah."

Uncertainty left a sour taste in his mouth, but the quintessence ghoul held his breath and waited. Waited for the wandering hand that was inevitably find its way past the elastic of his boxers and to where he was most vulnerable. Would that make him feel better? To let Swiss guide him towards exhaustion with a loose fist and a certain brand of filth he wasn't accustomed to? The idea did nothing to ease a swelling anxiety but Phantom was certain Swiss knew best. At least knew better than him, and he trusted the older ghoul to care for him in his stint of weakness.

In all the months Phantom had been topside, this was the first true unguarded moment he'd allowed himself in front of another ghoul. It felt like showing his belly, an uncomfortable display of submission and weakness. He couldn't keep Swiss' overly warm gaze when he slipped an arm over his waist. Large hand laid flat on the space between his shoulder blades, an almost laughable reminder of how small he was - how small he felt. What little space had been between them was closed, and suddenly Swiss was encompassing him fully. There was nothing to focus on besides Swiss. Heat pulsed in his cheeks and he opted to hide behind his eyelids.

Phantom wasn't sure what was coming. His skin prickled underneath Swiss' touch as it drifted. Even through a barrier of fabric the sensation was too vivid. Surely Swiss could feel his muscles going tought.

But Swiss didn't mention it, and his hand found a home in the little ghoul's dark hair. Unglamored claws grazed the nape of his neck before scratching lightly at the base of his skull. He braced himself for the mean grip that he'd been told Swiss liked to take but that firm hand never came.

There was something cautious in the way Swiss held him, like he was fragile. Valued, even.

He kissed the space between his horns, and Phantom realized he was shaking. Kindness was not a foreign concept to the little ghoul. It still somehow took him by surprise. Such a slow and careful display of affection. How was he supposed to react? All he could think to do was clutch onto Swiss' shirt like a lifeline.

"Oh bug..." The multi ghoul was frowning. He could hear the sad cadence in his voice. "I've got you, you're okay..."

It was like he'd given Phantom the permission to break because it hit him like a train. A sob tore out of his throat, eager to escape the confines of his vessel. Swiss only shifted closer and allowed him to bury his face into his chest.

"I can't do this-" Phantom hiccuped through his tears and Swiss gently carded his fingers further into his hair. "I can't, I can't, I'm not meant for this. I fucked up, I'm gonna keep fucking up."

"Hey, hey," Swiss squeezed him lightly. "These things aren't meant to be perfect. Nobody expects them to be."

"I ruined it from the first note, and it only got worse from there..."

"We've all made mistakes, I mean...Hell, I sang the chorus during an instrumental section during one of my first shows. And Dew? Dew once fucked up the start of ritual so bad Copia literally mocked him on stage. Little guy was damn near ready to spike his guitar into the ground."

Phantom only attempted to hide further.

"...You know why Rain's name is Rain?"

"No?"

"Because he slipped during his first show, and rain falls down."

He couldn't help the way his quiet laugh made his shoulders shake. Swiss kissed the top of his head this time.

"I'm sure Dew's shown you the video of me falling off my platform at least a dozen times by now."

"...Once or twice."

"See? Mistakes happen. It's your first time, little shadow, you did amazing...We're so proud of you."

Phantom sniffled. His eyes stung and his throat felt tight. Swiss continued the comforting and repetitive drag of his nails over his scalp, a low rumble kicking up in his chest. The quintessence ghoul felt himself truly melting into him.

"You okay?" Swiss asked and rubbed little circles into his back.

"...Tired."

"You wanna go to sleep?"

"Mhm...Can I, um, stay here?"

"Course you can, whatever you want."

Phantom breathed in shakily, peeling himself off of the multi ghoul long enough for him to wipe his eyes. Swiss still looked down at him fondly. Exhaustion present on his face, but fond nonetheless.

"Thank you," he mumbled and allowed Swiss to pull him back in with a tuneless hum. He was just as tired, and Phantom easily slotted himself back into the other ghoul. Wrapped up in his arms, legs tangled together, Phantom could finally let himself rest.