Cowboy Sukuna (Part 1)
Sukuna became a cowboy so he wouldn't have to let anyone tell him what to do. And because he wanted to put some distance between himself and his little brother so Sukuna wouldn't drag him into his mess. Sukuna is made for the lonesome cowboy life. He doesn't need anyone by his side. He isn't looking for love. At least that's what he thinks until he meets you, a pretty girl in a flowery dress and cowboy boots who somehow knows how to tear Sukuna's walls down.
Cowboy!Sukuna x Reader (female)
Genre: Cowboy AU, fluff + smut
Word Count: 7.5k
Playlist: Cowboy Sukuna
Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, fistfights, blood. Minors don't interact. This story is inspired by @sweetlandspos fanart of Cowboy Sukuna (also this is the selfie he sends Reader). I saw him and fell in love, and I just HAD to write a story about this sexy cowboy. Divider @/benkeibear. The art in the header was used with permission from @/sweetlandspos
Sukuna grew up thinking he belonged nowhere. He can't even remember his dad and his mama didn't want him either. He was raised by his grandpa, but Sukuna was a wild one, a rebel and troublemaker, famous in his small town but for all the wrong reasons. He got all those tattoos when he was far too young, got into all those fistfights, broke all those hearts, and even got into trouble with the cops once. His gramps told Sukuna he was a bad influence on his little brother, so when Sukuna was old enough, he left it all behind and bought this old ranch in the middle of nowhere.
He renovated the old farmhouse all by himself and built his own life out here. A life he could be proud of. It's a lonely life. No wife, no kids, not even a girlfriend. Just Sukuna and his dog and horse and the cows. And lots of hard work. But it's what Sukuna tells himself he wants. The bad boy cowboy never even considered getting married. He doesn't think he is made for love. He isn't even sure he deserves it or is capable of it. Sukuna enjoys life out here in the middle of nowhere and tells himself he doesn't need anyone by his side, anyway.
If he wants to fuck, he can drive to town and flirt his way into some pretty girl's bed. It's never anything serious. Just a few hours of fun and then Sukuna is gone again. No goodbye kiss, no exchange of phone numbers. The only thing he leaves behind are some muddy bootprints on her front porch, and some cigarette ash flicked out of his car window.
Sukuna doesn't expect to ever find love or even want to find it. And he certainly doesn't think that he will meet his future wife on a random Tuesday morning in the shabby old hardware store he has been frequenting for years.
He got into his pickup truck at sunrise, driving several hours to the small town to buy some things in the hardware store, and that's where he runs into you, a sweet little thing in a flowery dress and pretty cowboy boots, wringing your hands nervously when Sukuna has some questions regarding the pond supplies he wants to buy.
He grins at you, taking his cowboy hat off and nodding at you respectfully, all polite because contrary to what he looks like with all his tattoos and the intimidating height and muscular build, he can be a gentleman if he wants to, and you seem like such a sweetheart, Sukuna thinks you deserve his best charming self.
You tell him it's your first day working here and you have to check with your boss. You apologize profusely to Sukuna, and he can't stop the smirk from spreading over his tattooed face because you are so damn cute.
He tells you, "It's okay, ma'am, I have time.", and watches you get all flustered before you hurry to the back of the store.
You return a few minutes later with a warm smile on your face and answer Sukuna's questions, showing him around and also helping him pick some other things he says he needs (which he doesn't, but he likes the way you smile at him and the way your sweet flowery perfume fills his nose anytime you move).
You even insist on helping him load the items into his pickup truck,
"See it as compensation for my earlier lack of fishing pond knowledge."
And Sukuna laughs and thanks you,
"There is nothing you have to compensate for. I am very pleased with your service."
He eyes the nameplate attached to your dress and addresses you by your name, letting it roll off his tongue in his low, velvety voice that he knows girls find sexy. Sukuna can see that you are affected by his charm, and he grins broadly at you when he tips his cowboy hat in a farewell. And you smile so sweetly at him, and Sukuna is pretty sure you really mean it when you tell him to come back again soon.
Sukuna is back in town only a week later, picking up a new saddle he ordered at the local saddler, but he drives past the hardware store on his way back, and something makes him slow down, makes him take one last deep drag from his cigarette and then flick the cigarette butt out the open window before Sukuna pulls into the small parking lot.
Sukuna tells himself it's a good idea to have a little look around when he already made the long drive into town anyway. He could use a new toolbox. The old one is still functioning, but this new one comes with a sweet girl in a cute little skirt and those shiny cowboy boots. Sukuna spends thirty minutes in the little shop until he finally sees you coming out from the back.
Your gaze meets his, and he sees the way your eyes widen just as Sukuna grins at you, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting and casually strolling over to you.
You smile brightly at him, remembering him (Of course you do. Sukuna knows he always leaves an impression), greeting him by his name, and asking him how you can be of help.
Sukuna cocks his head, a lazy smirk spreading over his handsome, tattooed face, letting his gaze travel over your pretty face and cute curves, thinking that he definitely knows some things you could help him with. He is pretty sure he could have you in his truck in no time at all, his calloused hands slipping under your cute little skirt while your pretty mouth moans his name. But something makes him hold back.
It's untypical for Sukuna. He drove all the way to town and will only be here for a few hours. Usually, he makes good use of that time to get his fill of some sweet pussy wrapped around his cock to keep him satisfied for the long lonely nights to come once he is back home again, riding over the plains, herding his cows.
But Sukuna looks at your sweet smile and your genuine kindness, and it doesn't feel right to only fuck you and then leave again to never see you again.
And so Sukuna doesn't try to get under your skirt but instead leans down to grin at you and ask you to help him pick a nice new toolbox.
He walks out of the store an hour later, not just with a new toolbox but also a new BBQ grill, some lawn chairs, and a saddle bag he could have gotten in much better quality at the saddler he just came from. But it's okay because it meant that he could spend a whole hour with you in the shitty little hardware store, letting you show him around, talking to him in your sweet voice with the thick accent, while Sukuna watched your little skirt sway around your knees.
You accompany him to his truck again, and Sukuna smirks at you like the devil that he is, asking in a teasing voice,
"Is this some new service your store offers? Helping every customer load their stuff into their cars? Or is this a special service just for me?"
His smirk grows bigger when he sees how flustered you get once again, and he adds,
"No need to get all shy on me, sweetheart. I like being your favorite customer."
You giggle nervously but smile that bright smile at him again and quickly ask him where he lives and what he's doing for a living. And Sukuna laughs and points at his cowboy hat,
"This is what I'm doing. The hat isn't just a sexy accessory."
"Oh? So you're really a cowboy?"
"Yeah, as real as you can meet one. I have my own ranch a few hours from here. Just me and my animals."
You smile at him, getting a slightly dreamy look in your eyes, telling him,
"That sounds nice."
Sukuna doesn't know why his chest feels so fluttery and warm the whole drive home. He even catches himself humming along softly to one of those stupid, catchy lovesongs playing on the country station on his shitty old car radio.
Cowboy Sukuna doesn't know what it is, but lately, he keeps coming to town more often than usual. It's Friday night, and he's sitting in the small bar with the roses on the wooden sign above the old-fashioned saloon doors.
Sukuna is drinking whiskey with some rancher who wants to buy several cows from him, when Sukuna suddenly sees you. All pretty and sexy without knowing it, in your blue jeans and the cropped blouse, laughing unrestrainedly with your girls after a long work day.
Sukuna can't take his eyes off you. He watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, feeling that strange warmth in his chest again. He's about to put his glass down and walk over to you when he sees a guy bump into you.
The asshole is acting as if it was by accident, but he is far too handsy for Sukuna's taste. Standing much too close to you, his shoulders brushing against yours, his mouth at your ear, saying something to you.
Sukuna grits his teeth.
You smile politely at the guy, laughing awkwardly, not at all like when you laugh with Sukuna. You are uncomfortable. That much is clear to see, but Sukuna can tell you are a good girl who was taught to always be nice and polite, even to that guy with the grabby hands. That pathetic worm puts a hand on your hip, and Sukuna sees red.
He slams his whiskey glass down on the table and crosses the small bar in a few large steps, grabbing that handsy guy and pulling him off you with an angry growl. Sukuna slams him into the wall, glaring at him, his voice low and dangerous,
"Get your dirty hands off her, or I'll fucking kill you!"
Your wide, surprised eyes stare at Sukuna, and that nameless guy screams and tries to punch him, but Sukuna just laughs about the pathetic attempt and drags him further away from you, grabbing him by the collar as Sukuna's right fist connects with the asshole's face.
Sukuna has always been good at fistfights. He is a rough guy, a dirty fighter, sadistic when someone pisses him off. He tried to stay out of trouble those last few years, but tonight, he is not restraining his anger, not when it comes to protecting you.
He smirks devilishly at the guy when that asshole manages to land a hit on Sukuna's face. It just manages to rile Sukuna up even more. He laughs and taunts that loser for hitting like a little boy before Sukuna attacks again and sends the guy tumbling to the floor with the next hard punch.
It's then that your small, soft hands wrap around Sukuna's tattooed biceps, and your sweet voice says his name with so much worry that it makes Sukuna stop going after that guy on the floor. He just jerks his head at the guy, telling him to get lost,
"If you know what's good for you, you better stay a mile away from that sweet lady in the future. Now apologize to her."
And the guy scrambles to his feet, mumbling a sorry before he flees from the bar and from Sukuna.
Sukuna slowly turns around, running a tattooed hand through his pink hair. He wipes his split lip on his sleeve, gives you a lopsided grin, and asks if you are okay.
And you stare at him with big, worried eyes, taking in the blood on his tattooed face, but a small smile plays around your lips as you tell Sukuna,
"Thank you for getting him away from me. I am fine... but what about you? Your lip... let me fix that, please."
You take Sukuna's large hand in your smaller one, tugging gently on it, and Sukuna follows you out of the bar.
You lead him down the road to your small house, inviting him in, not to have sex with him, but to patch him up, and somehow it feels a lot more intimate than all the times combined that Sukuna went home with another girl.
You are so sweet to him, scolding him for getting into a fight and getting himself hurt, but your fingers are so gentle when you wipe the blood off Sukuna's face and put a band-aid on his split lip. You smile softly as you trace the tattoos on Sukuna's jaw with your fingers and whisper a thank you to him.
"Thank you for protecting me from that guy and teaching him a lesson. You're a good guy."
And Sukuna laughs roughly, grinning at you and shaking his head,
"That's a first. Usually, I get called the opposite."
And you laugh with him, your soft fingers still cupping his chin and touching his tattoos oh so gently, insisting that even though he looks like a bad boy, Sukuna seems really nice.
Sukuna is so close to just pulling you on his lap and kissing you, but he refrains from doing it. Because he knows where it would lead, and for once in his life, Sukuna doesn't want a one-night stand. He doesn't want to fuck you and then drive back to his life out on the ranch to never see you again.
He doesn't want that with you. He wants to see you again, and he wants to take things slow. He wants to court you in an old-fashioned way.
Sukuna eats the homemade pie you bring him and drinks the coffee you insist he should drink before he drives back home. He thanks you politely for playing nurse for him and for feeding him, looking at you with the most charming smile he can give you with his split lip. And you tell him he is welcome and that he knows now where to find you if he ever needs someone to patch him up again.
Sukuna returns a week later to the hardware store, not because he needs to buy anything, but for you. He sees you smile when you spot him leaning casually against a wooden fence display, twirling his cowboy hat in his fingers and smirking that lazy grin at you.
You only have eyes for him, forgetting what you want to say to the customers you are serving. Looking at them in confusion and stuttering an excuse before your gaze wanders back to Sukuna. And Sukuna's smirk grows bigger.
He didn't even dress nice. He is just wearing his typical black jeans and cowboy boots, and one of the flannel shirts he always wears on the ranch. But he knows he looks good anyway. Sukuna knows the ladies love his handsome face and his tall and strong body with all those well-defined muscles from all the hard work. And his pink hair and tattoos are very popular with the country girls, too. They all get weak in the knees for a bad boy like Sukuna.
But somehow, he doesn't want to be a bad boy when it comes to you. A strange warmth spreads through Sukuna's chest when you leave the other customers standing and come over to him with that big smile on your pretty face, greeting him and telling him that it's nice to see him again.
No, Sukuna doesn't want to be an asshole or a bad boy when it comes to you. He wants to be a good man for you. He is polite to you, sweet, and respectful. A true cowboy and gentleman.
He grins his boyish grin at you, cocking his head and drawls,
"I thought I should stop by to check on you. Make sure there aren't any weird guys I have to fistfight for you."
Sukuna flirts with you and makes you laugh and giggle until your boss gives you side eyes and informs you that you shouldn't pester customers. But Sukuna turns to the man, towering over him,
"She is just helping me decide which products to buy. You shouldn't berate her but rather give her a raise. This sweet lady is the best thing about this shitty store. The only reason I keep coming back."
You burst out laughing the moment your boss has left and Sukuna thinks his stomach has never felt so fluttery. He asks you when your shift is over and if he can take you out for dinner. He is delighted when you say yes.
Sukuna waits until your shift is over and then leads you to his old pickup truck, holding open the door for you, giving you a hand, and helping you climb into it. His hand rests a bit longer than necessary on the small of your back, but you don't seem to mind.
He takes you to a cozy little restaurant that he has been to several times before. Always alone because Sukuna never went on dates in the past. But the elderly lady who owns the restaurant always tells Sukuna that she knows the type of cowboy Sukuna is from the time when she was still a young girl.
"Oh, I have had several boys like you in my life. Y'all are such handsome devils, but always breaking hearts everywhere you go because you are always running from something, and you don't even know from what. I wish for you to find the right girl one day. And if you do, bring her here."
And now Sukuna is here with you, walking into the restaurant with his arm wrapped lightly around you, catching the knowing gaze of the old lady behind the counter. She leads the two of you to a table on the patio, all romantic with wildflowers in a mason jar and fairy lights overhead.
Sukuna has never been on a real date, but he likes this. He likes to be here with you, chat with you, laugh with you, and hold your hand on the table, watching his long tattooed fingers interlace with your smaller ones, which feel so soft.
The hours slip by without either of you noticing how late it is.
When it is time to bring you home, Sukuna drives you to your house, parks the truck in front of it, and turns to you to say the typical flirty stuff that he usually says to girls, but he stops when he sees your smile, and somehow anything he usually says seems so hollow and fake, and it wouldn't be right to say it to you.
Sukuna closes his mouth again, gulping hard, the bad boy cowboy at a loss for words for the first time in his life.
This feeling is new to Sukuna. All of this is new to him. This warmth in his chest and the fluttery feeling in his stomach. And how he is so damn scared to fuck things up and lose you before you even are his.
How can Sukuna even say anything at all to you when everything he wants to tell you is so fucking raw and loaded with feelings he has never felt before? When it all makes him feel so fucking vulnerable?
Like the fact that Sukuna really enjoys spending time with you and that he wants to see you again. Or that he is pretty sure he gets butterflies when hearing your laugh. Or that he never believed in love, but he thinks he is starting to do it now.
He can't say those things, can he?
In the end, it doesn't need any words from him. You smile at him and thank him for the lovely evening, adding a bit shyly that you aren't used to going on dates, and then stutter because you realize what you said and you are worried that it wasn't really a date and you made a fool of yourself by assuming it was one.
And Sukuna can't help but grin and then do the one thing that will shut you up and hopefully ease your worries:
He kisses you right there in his truck. Cups your chin with his calloused hand and brushes his lips softly over yours. Careful, gentle. Something Sukuna usually isn't, but you bring out some part of him that was dormant until now.
Sukuna wants this kiss to be special. He wants to be gentle with you because you are gentle with him, too. You are sweet and kind. You treat him as if he is deserving of tenderness.
You make a cute, surprised sound, but don't pull away. Instead, your hand lands on Sukuna's neck, caressing the short stubble of his undercut, pulling him closer as your lips begin to move against his, too, and Sukuna can't help but smile into the sweetest kiss he ever had.
When the two of you pull apart again, Sukuna smiles at you, a genuine, soft smile, and tells you,
"It was absolutely a date. And I had a lovely evening, too, princess. Let me take you out to dinner again soon."
Sukuna watches you get out of his truck and walk to your front door. He lifts a hand to give you a little wave when you turn around in the open doorway to smile at him once again, whisper-shouting to him that you wish him a safe drive home.
Sukuna stays in his truck outside your house until the light in your living room goes on, and he knows you are safe and sound before he finally pulls out of your driveway and makes his long way home, his thoughts filled with your smile and the taste of your sweet lips and tongue in his mouth.
Sukuna stays true to the promise he made to himself and really takes things slow with you. He has to work anyway, look after his ranch, fix some fences, and ride across the plains, where he meets no other human being for several days. But you are on his mind the whole time.
He sends you pictures from his rides when he is lucky and gets a signal. Selfies of him on horseback, grinning at you with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. And some pics of some of his cows, smiling when you ask for their names.
"They don't have names. I just numbered them. But you can give them names if you like, sweetheart."
And you do. You send Sukuna the stupidest names you can think of, and he can't stop grinning,
"I sure hope you won't be in charge of naming any kids."
"Well, I will let their daddy help choose the names if he has such a problem with my name-giving skills."
And Sukuna's head spins at the implication. You're a tease in such a sweet way, and it drives him completely insane.
But Sukuna knows he drives you crazy for him, too. He knows that as much as you like the normal pictures he sends you, you also love the thirst traps he blesses you with.
The pictures where he is shirtless, all his tattoos and defined muscles on display for you, sweat glistening on his strong body, his faded, ripped jeans sitting low on his hips and doing nothing to hide the massive bulge throbbing in them.
You send him pictures, too, not as shameless as the thirst traps Sukuna sends you, but enough to drive him crazy. He has never held himself back so long, but damn, he thinks you are worth all the hard-ons he has and only his own hand to take care of them. Sure, Sukuna could drive to the next bar and find a random girl to ease that pressure, but he doesn't want it. There is only one girl he wants.
Sukuna can wait. He knows you are worth it.
And as much as he wants to have you under him, leaving scratches on his back and squealing his name in pleasure, he also wants to just talk to you or maybe take you on a little ride on his horse.
He calls you every night just to hear your voice and ask about your day, laughing about all the rude customers at the hardware store. Sukuna asks you what you had for dinner and listens to all the latest gossip your mama told you. Sometimes, he falls asleep while listening to your sweet voice and sees a text from you in the morning telling him that he sounds cute when he snores.
Maybe that's ruining the bad-boy reputation that Sukuna has all over your small town, but he doesn't give a fuck. You can see this other side of him. You are the exception, and he finds that he likes that.
Sukuna visits the town as often as his ranch duties allow so he can take you on dates. Sometimes, he drives his old pickup truck, but sometimes, he takes his motorcycle, grinning at you when he parks it in front of your house and takes off his helmet, running a hand through his ruffled hair to smooth it down again, and telling you to come hop on so he can take you on a ride. And you raise an eyebrow jokingly,
"When you said you are a cowboy, I pictured a guy on a real horse..."
And there is this happy sparkle in your eyes, and that sweet laugh falling from your lips. And fuck, Sukuna knows he is a lost man.
He grins back at you, leaning down to greet you with a slow, deep kiss before he holds out his helmet to you,
"This cowboy will let you ride his horse soon, too, but for now, let me show you a bit more horsepower."
Sukuna loves the feeling of your body snuggling against his back, your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, your hands caressing his chest and his abs through his shirt, and your loud, excited laugh when Sukuna accelerates his bike and speeds down the dirt road leading to nowhere, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind.
Sukuna parks his motorcycle at a pretty pond and spreads out a picnic blanket in the grass. The two of you sit down to eat something, but it only takes a few minutes before the snacks are forgotten, and Sukuna rolls on top of you and kisses you until he feels dizzy, and you sigh into his mouth.
When you look up at him and touch his face, trace his tattoos with your fingertips, and smile at him, Sukuna knows that he has never been this genuinely happy in his life. But at the same time, it scares him. It terrifies him to feel so much.
He strolls down to the pond, smoking a cigarette while looking over the smooth surface of the water, trying to calm down and stop his fears from swallowing him. Trying to stop that voice in his head that whispers to him that this cowboy should do what he is best at and just run and isolate himself and live his life in solitude.
But your sweet laugh carries to Sukuna's ears as you run towards him, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Your small hand wraps around his tattooed biceps, and you lean against his side,
"Hey cowboy, come back. I have some homemade lemonade and cake in my bag."
Sukuna turns his head to look at you, at the way you tilt your head to smile up at him, eyes full of affection. How could he walk away from this? Yeah, he is scared out of his mind of all those feelings, but he would regret it even more if he ran.
He blows out his cigarette smoke slowly as a lazy grin spreads over his face, and he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.
"Homemade lemonade? You sure know the way to my heart, huh, princess?"
He lets you take his hand and pull him back to the picnic blanket, sipping your lemonade and letting you climb in his lap and feed him the cake you baked for him, and Sukuna wraps his arms around your waist, capturing your lips in a sweet, sexy kiss, hoping you can understand the silent promises his tongue writes against yours.
All the words he doesn't dare say out loud because they scare him. But Sukuna knows it's you for him. He knows that he wants by his side. He knows you are his girl and hopes he is your boy, too. He hopes he is a man who is deserving of you and your sweetness. Sukuna promises you silently that he will work damn hard to be that man.
It takes weeks before the two of you have sex.
Sukuna takes you on another date with his old truck this time, driving far out to watch the stars with you and lying in the bed of his truck with you in his arms.
He brought you flowers. The wild ones which grow on his ranch because he feels like you enjoy them more than the ones from the flower shops, and it makes him happy to see you with something from his life.
You thanked him with a sweet kiss and put some of the flowers in your hair, laughing when they fell out again, and Sukuna picked them up again and tucked them behind your ear.
And now those flowers are already out of your hair again, strewn all over the truck bed because the two of you are so lost in your deep tongue kisses and the feeling of your bodies grinding against each other.
The flowers are forgotten, just like the stars above. The only thing you know is each other's mouths and hands that tug on each other's clothes, craving more, needing skin-on-skin contact.
Sukuna's shirt has been long gone, and yours too, leaving you only in your lacey bra and the little skirt, driving Sukuna crazy. Your hands explore the naked skin of his broad back and his biceps, and your lips trail sweet kisses down Sukuna's neck, leaving your lipstick marks on him.
And Sukuna licks and kisses the swell of your breasts above your bra, finally pulling the pretty lacey thing down to reveal your even prettier tits. He sucks one nipple into his warm mouth as he looks up at your face, grinning when he sees your eyelashes flutter and hears the cute little noises you make for him.
You straddle Sukuna's lap, smiling at him with desire burning in your eyes while your small hands wander a bit shyly over his tattooed chest, and Sukuna thinks he will lose his mind if he doesn't finally take you.
He flips you over on your back, pushes his head under your skirt, and eats you out until your legs are shaking and your hands tug on his pink hair, and you cry out his name into the night.
You look up at Sukuna with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and get his achingly hard cock out, stroking him lovingly while you tell him to please make you his girl.
Sukuna has held back for so long but cannot do it anymore. Not when you look at him like that and stroke his cock like that and ask him to claim you. He pushes you down on the truck bed, his arms on each side of your head, his heavy body on top of yours, his lips claiming yours in a possessive, hungry kiss at the same time as his cock claims your sweet, warm pussy.
He takes you with hard, rough thrusts, fucking you almost feverishly once he feels your warm pussy around his cock. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna apologizes for the way he fucks. For his roughness, for his strength. But you cling to him and moan his name and tell him it's okay and that you want him exactly like this.
You leave scratches on Sukuna's back, and he fucks his seed into you over and over again. The two of you can't get enough of each other that night, making out and fucking in various positions until the sky becomes pink with the approaching sunrise, and both of you are sated and exhausted, and you slump against Sukuna's body, hugging him, pressing your tits firmly against his tattooed chest as his spent cock softens gradually inside you.
Sukuna lets his head fall back on the truck bed, his large hands lazily caressing your back, and he looks up at the sky that brings a new morning, thinking that it feels like it's a whole new life that is beginning today.
He drives you back to town an hour later, stealing glances at you the whole drive long, one tattooed hand resting on your naked thigh under your skirt, and your small hand lands on top of Sukuna's, caressing the back of his hand while you sing along to the country songs on the radio. Sukuna can't stop grinning the whole time.
But even after you start to have sex with each other, you still take time to get to know each other even better. It's fun and sexy but also deep and meaningful, and Sukuna catches himself being more open with you than he ever was with anyone before.
He tells you the truth when you ask about his family, tells you that it's messy, that he can't even remember his dad, and that his mama didn't want him either. He tells you about his little brother, who he hasn't seen in many years because Sukuna ran from home the moment he was 18. He confesses all the shit he did. All the stupid things a rebellious teenage Sukuna got involved in. All the trouble and pain he caused his family. All the regrets he has, when he looks back at his former life now.
And you take his large hand into both of yours and hold it so gently, and smile that sweet smile at him, telling him that sometimes families simply are like that. A mess.
You tell him that you like him the way he is, with all his rough edges, and that you wish Sukuna had more love in his life when he needed it the most as a child.
"But you have me now, Kuna. And I will make sure you don't feel alone."
You tear down his walls so easily, break him in the most beautiful way, and build him up again, even stronger than before, because now Sukuna knows what it feels like to be loved.
And Sukuna says those famous three words for the first time in his life.
He pulls you to him, holds you in his arms, and rests his chin on your head, swaying you softly from side to side as he murmurs those words into your hair, words he never thought he would say,
"I love you. And I want to be with you. I know it's hard to love a man like me, but I want this to work. I want you. I want us. And I will work hard for it."
He thinks he will melt when you tell him you love him too and that there is nothing hard about loving him at all.
For the first time in his life, Sukuna stays in someone's bed the whole night.
The two of you kiss at your front door, and you gently pull him inside. You kiss and laugh and playfully tease each other all the way to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes on your floor.
You call him baby, and Sukuna thinks he will go crazy. He picks you up and carries you the rest of the way until he lays you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours.
You don't fuck that night but make love, nice and slow. You look so beautiful lying under Sukuna, your face so close to his, your small hands caressing his biceps and his muscular back while Sukuna takes you with slow, deep thrusts, unable to tear his gaze away from you and the love in your eyes when you whisper his name.
Sukuna tells you he loves you again when he is about to cum, and it feels more intense than anything else he has ever experienced. Especially when he feels you cum on his cock, too, sobbing his name and returning the "I love you" several times while you shudder in pleasure beneath him.
Sukuna doesn't let go of you the whole night. He lets you use his chest as your pillow, wraps you in his strong arms, and holds you. The wild, freedom-loving cowboy who usually runs, suddenly all tame.
Sukuna thinks he is right where he should be. He wants to stay forever in your bed and in your arms, holding the girl he loves.
Of course, a cowboy like Sukuna has to leave again in the morning. His ranch needs him. There are miles and miles of fences to fix, horses to train, and cattle to herd. But Sukuna promises to call you every night.
"And if I don't have a signal, I want you to know that I will still think of you, okay princess? Let's make a deal. Every night at ten pm, I want you to look at the sky. And I'll do the same, wherever I am, and imagine you are by my side."
And he laughs softly and hugs you to his strong body, adding,
"I will think about you every second of the day anyway. And I am damn sure you can't get me out of your mind either, huh?"
He winks at you and grins his boyish grin, and you chuckle and get on your tiptoes to kiss his grin off him.
Before Sukuna drives off, you give him a leather cord with a small charm in the form of a horseshoe, telling him you saw it on the farmers market last weekend and thought of him.
"I want to give it to you because I hope it will bring you luck and keep you safe out there on all those lonely nights and long rides."
And Sukuna leaves his bandana at your place,
"So you have something to remind you of me while I am away, princess. Wear it around your pretty throat to keep the chilly winds away and to think of your favorite cowboy."
Sukuna calls you every day just like he promised.
But out here on the plains, where Sukuna is on horseback, with only his dog running along beside him, his life still feels lonely. This solitude used to be something Sukuna chose willingly for himself. Something he thought was the only life that was right for a man like him.
But now Sukuna feels this longing inside his chest, and the questions keep filling his mind. Does a cowboy really have to be alone? Does Sukuna really have to be alone?
His ranch and his life out here are the last parts of him, which Sukuna hasn't opened to you yet. It seemed too risky to bring you here, too intimate. This is the place, after all, where Sukuna fled to so he wouldn't hurt his little brother anymore. A place he used to see as some kind of fortress that kept other people safe from Sukuna and also kept him safe from feeling too much. A place where he was free from all the complications of human interactions.
But things have changed, haven't they?
Sukuna visits you as often as he can, and he catches himself telling you more about his everyday life as a cowboy while watching you closely for your reactions. He tells you what he loves about his life on the ranch, tells you that it is a lot of hard work and that it can be tough at times, but that it is also peaceful, and that he likes that he is free out there.
"I like that I am my own boss because I really don't do well with people trying to tell me what to do."
And you laugh and roll your eyes, and Sukuna grins at you with a wink and adds,
"Well, you are the exception, baby."
And as teasing and light-hearted as it sounds, Sukuna knows that he is telling the truth. He doesn't mind if you tell him what to do. He doesn't mind if he has to take responsibility for his actions. Not when it comes to you.
You beam at him and kiss his tattooed cheek and ask in that sweet voice,
"Will you finally show me your ranch, Sukuna?"
And he knows what you are really asking is for Sukuna to finally let you in. To let this last wall tumble to the ground and allow you into his life in every way.
Sukuna feels strangely nervous when driving you to his ranch. But not because he is scared of losing his last refuge. He is nervous because he is worried you won't like the life out here in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but endless miles of uninhabited land around you and only Sukuna and his animals to keep you company.
Sukuna hopes you will like it. Because there is this small voice in his mind that whispers to him, "I want her to stay."
Sukuna watches you carefully while he shows you around his small ranch, showing you the old farmhouse he renovated, the barn he built with his own hands, and the stables he gave a new paint and a modern interior.
Relief floods Sukuna's chest when he sees the genuine smile on your pretty face and the joy when you pet his favorite horse. You turn to him, telling him that you love his ranch and praising him for turning an old abandoned farm into this pretty place.
"You are so passionate about the things you want, Sukuna, and you work hard for them. That's an admirable trait. This place is beautiful."
Sukuna smirks proudly at you, feeling this warmth in his chest again. He wraps a strong, tattooed arm around your waist and pulls you against him. And he knows exactly what he wants.
"This place is even more beautiful with you here. You remember what I said about enjoying my freedom out here? I feel free with you by my side, too. It doesn't feel like I am giving anything up when I am with you. It feels like I am gaining something."
There are happy tears shining in your eyes when you look up at him, and you smile and put a small hand on Sukuna's defined chest, right where his heart is beating strong and fast,
"I would love to live here with you, cowboy. I could help you with the crops and make sure you always have something warm to eat when you come home in the evening. I could even help with the horses and the cows, I think. And I can keep you company out here and keep you warm at night."
Sukuna doesn't believe in a God, but he thinks some kind of higher power or fate or whatever must have finally blessed him. Must have finally allowed a fallen angel like him some sort of heaven, too.
Sukuna smiles at you, a gentle, genuine smile that he never gives to anyone else, and he takes his cowboy hat off and puts it carefully onto your head,
"Then welcome to your new home, cowgirl."
SIGHHHHH, this cowboy makes me swoon 😭😭💗💗 I didn't expect this story to become so long, but I just couldn't stop writing. It was one of those moments where Sukuna took things into his hands and made me tell the whole story, and of course I do what my man wants ;)
I hope you enjoyed falling in love with Cowboy!Sukuna, too 💗
Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.
There will be a Part 2 in which we see our life on Sukuna's ranch.
And once again: Thank you Émilie @sweetlandspos for drawing your beautiful and sexy Cowboy!Sukuna, who inspired me to write this AU!! I hope you find joy in this story!!
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Hall Pass
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Carlos Sainz x ex!Reader
Summary: Carlos’ desire to fantasize about other women leads you straight into his teammate’s arms (or in which your boyfriend chooses a famous actress as his hall pass while you decide on someone much closer to home)
The hotel suite is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the plush carpet. You sit on the edge of the king-sized bed, your fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns on the duvet cover. Across the room, Carlos leans against the ornate writing desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a pensive look on his face.
“Y/N,” he begins, his voice low and measured. “We need to talk.”
You look up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “What’s on your mind?”
He shifts his weight, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been thinking ... about us. About our relationship.”
Your heart skips a beat, a knot forming in your stomach. “Oh? And what have you been thinking?”
Carlos takes a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room before settling back on you. “I love you, Y/N. I do. But ... I can’t help feeling like we’re stuck in a rut.”
You furrow your brow, confusion and hurt mingling in your chest. “A rut? What do you mean?”
“It’s just ...” He pauses, searching for the right words. “We’ve been together for so long, and it’s been great. But don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”
You stand up, taking a step towards him. “Carlos, are you saying you want to break up?”
He holds up his hands, shaking his head quickly. “No, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just ... I had an idea.”
“An idea?” You repeat, your voice laced with skepticism.
Carlos nods, a hint of excitement creeping into his tone. “What if we each got a hall pass?”
You blink, taken aback. “A hall pass? Like ... permission to sleep with someone else?”
“Exactly,” he says, snapping his fingers. “But not just anyone. We each choose one person, and if we ever happen to meet them and the opportunity arises, we’re allowed to go for it. No hard feelings, no guilt.”
You stare at him, trying to process his words. “Let me get this straight. You want us to choose people we can cheat on each other with, guilt-free?”
Carlos winces at your phrasing. “It’s not cheating if we both agree to it. Think of it as ... spicing things up. Adding a little excitement to our relationship.”
You cross your arms, mirroring his earlier stance. “And you think this will solve our supposed ‘rut’?”
He shrugs, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “It could be fun. Just imagine the thrill of knowing we both have this secret possibility out there.”
You shake your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “I can’t believe you’re seriously suggesting this.”
“Come on, mi amor,” Carlos coaxes, taking a step towards you. “It’s not like anything will actually happen. We’ll probably never even meet the people we choose.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Then what’s the point?”
“The point is the fantasy, the excitement,” he explains, his eyes lighting up. “It’s like ... buying a lottery ticket. You know you probably won’t win, but the possibility is thrilling.”
You chew on your lower lip, considering his words. Part of you wants to shut down this ridiculous idea immediately, but another part is intrigued by the challenge. “And you really think this will help our relationship?”
Carlos nods eagerly. “I do. It’ll add a spark, keep things interesting.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”
“So ... is that a yes?” Carlos asks, hope evident in his voice.
After a long moment, you nod slowly. “Fine. But we set some ground rules first.”
Carlos grins, clapping his hands together. “Of course! Whatever you want.”
You hold up a finger. “Rule number one: we tell each other who we choose. No secrets.”
“Agreed,” Carlos says quickly.
“Rule number two: if anything ever does happen, we tell each other immediately.”
Carlos nods. “Absolutely. Honesty is key.”
You take a deep breath. “Okay. So ... who’s your choice?”
Carlos’ grin widens. “Margot Robbie.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Seriously? Margot Robbie?”
He shrugs, looking pleased with himself. “What? She’s gorgeous, talented, and there’s practically zero chance I’ll ever meet her, let alone have the opportunity to sleep with her.”
You shake your head, amused despite yourself. “Well, at least you’re being realistic about your chances.”
Carlos chuckles. “Exactly. It’s the perfect choice. Exciting, but safe.” He leans forward, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “What about you? Who’s your hall pass going to be?”
You pause, pretending to consider your options carefully. In truth, you’ve already made your decision, a plan forming in your mind. “Well,” you say slowly, “I think I’ll choose ... Charles.”
Carlos’ brow furrows in confusion. “Charles? What Charles?”
You allow a small smirk to play across your lips. “Charles Leclerc.”
The color drains from Carlos’ face as realization dawns. “Charles ... Leclerc? My teammate, Charles Leclerc?”
You nod, feigning innocence. “That’s the one.”
Carlos sputters, his earlier confidence evaporating. “But-but you can’t choose him!”
“Why not?” You ask, your voice sweet. “He fits all the criteria. He’s attractive, talented, and exciting.”
“But he’s my teammate!” Carlos exclaims, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “You see him all the time!”
You shrug, echoing his earlier nonchalance. “So? You’re the one who wanted to add some excitement to our relationship.”
Carlos paces back and forth, his earlier enthusiasm replaced by panic. “This isn’t what I meant! I chose someone I’ll never meet. You chose someone you could literally bump into tomorrow!”
“Carlos,” you say, your voice taking on a patronizing tone, “are you saying you don’t trust me?”
He stops pacing, turning to face you with wide eyes. “Of course I trust you. It’s just ... it’s Charles!”
You take a step towards him, your expression hardening. “Let me ask you something. Did you really think this through when you suggested it? Or were you just hoping for a free pass to fantasize about other women without feeling guilty?”
Carlos opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find a response. “I ... that’s not ... I didn’t mean ...”
You cut him off, your voice sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you thought you could have your cake and eat it too. You’d get to keep me while indulging in your little fantasies about Margot Robbie or whoever else catches your eye.”
“Mi amor, please,” Carlos pleads, reaching for your hand. “That’s not what this was about at all.”
You pull away from his grasp, shaking your head. “No? Then what was it about? Because it sure as hell wasn’t about improving our relationship.”
He runs his hands over his face, frustration evident in every line of his body. “I just ... I thought it would be fun. A little harmless fantasy to spice things up.”
“Well, congratulations,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve certainly spiced things up now.”
Carlos looks at you, desperation in his eyes. “Can we just ... can we forget this whole thing? Pretend I never suggested it?”
You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Oh no, Carlos. You don’t get to backtrack now. You wanted a hall pass? You’ve got one.”
“Please,” he begs, reaching for you again. “I was being stupid. I don’t want this.”
You step back, avoiding his touch. “Too late. What was it you said? No hard feelings, no guilt?”
Carlos’ face crumples. “I didn’t think ... I never imagined you’d choose someone like Charles.”
“Maybe you should have,” you snap. “Maybe you should have considered how I’d feel about you wanting permission to sleep with other women.”
He hangs his head, shame written across his features. “I’m sorry. I really am. Can we please just talk about this?”
You shake your head, moving towards the door of the suite. “I think we’ve talked enough for one night.”
Carlos’ head snaps up, panic flashing in his eyes. “Where are you going?”
You grab your purse from the nearby chair, slinging it over your shoulder. “Out. I need some air.”
“Y/N, wait!” Carlos calls, his voice rising in desperation. “You can’t ... you’re not going to ...”
You turn back to face him, your hand on the doorknob. “Going to what, Carlos? Use my hall pass? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He shakes his head vehemently. “No! I mean, yes, but not like this. Not with Charles!”
“Why not?” You challenge. “He’s attractive, available, and conveniently located just down the hall. Isn’t that exciting?”
Carlos’ face contorts with a mixture of anger and fear. “You wouldn’t. You’re just trying to teach me a lesson.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Am I? Are you willing to bet on that?”
He takes a step towards you, his voice pleading. “Mi amor, please. I’m begging you. Don’t do this.”
You open the door, pausing in the threshold. “You know, Carlos, you were right about one thing. This definitely isn’t boring anymore.”
As you step into the hallway, you hear Carlos’ voice rising behind you. “Y/N! Come back! We need to talk about this!”
You let the door swing shut behind you, cutting off his desperate pleas. As you walk down the corridor, your heels clicking against the polished floor, a small smile plays across your lips.
You have no intention of actually going to Charles’ room, of course. But Carlos doesn’t need to know that. Let him stew in his own jealousy and insecurity for a while. Maybe next time he’ll think twice before suggesting something so foolish.
As you reach the elevator, you can still hear Carlos’ muffled shouts echoing from your suite. You press the button for the lobby, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Part of you feels guilty for causing him such distress, but a larger part feels justified in your actions. He needed to understand the consequences of his thoughtless suggestion.
As the elevator doors slide closed, you let out a long breath. It’s going to be a long night, but perhaps this will be the wake-up call your relationship needed. Not in the way Carlos had intended, but in a way that forces you both to confront the real issues lurking beneath the surface.
The elevator begins its descent, carrying you away from the drama upstairs and towards an uncertain future. One thing’s for sure — your relationship will never be the same after tonight. Whether that’s for better or worse remains to be seen.
***
The hotel bar is a sanctuary of soft lighting and hushed conversations. You sit perched on a high stool, nursing a glass of red wine and trying to quiet the storm of emotions raging inside you. The bartender, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, keeps glancing your way, clearly sensing your distress but respectfully maintaining his distance.
You’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice the figure approaching until he speaks.
“Y/N? Is everything alright?”
You look up, startled, to find Charles Leclerc standing beside you, concern etched across his handsome features. For a moment, you’re struck by the irony of the situation.
“Charles,” you manage, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, just ... needed some air.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act. “At the bar? Must be some very alcoholic air.”
Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “Caught me. Mind if I buy you a drink to keep my secret?”
Charles slides onto the stool next to you, a warm smile playing across his lips. “Only if you let me buy the next round and tell me what’s really going on.”
You hesitate, swirling the wine in your glass. “It’s ... complicated.”
“I’ve got time,” Charles says softly, signaling the bartender. “And I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”
As the bartender sets a Moscow Mule in front of Charles, you take a deep breath. “Carlos and I had a fight.”
Charles nods, his expression neutral. “I see. Do you want to talk about it?”
You laugh bitterly. “Oh, you’re going to love this. He suggested we each get a hall pass.”
Charles’ brow furrows in confusion. “A hall pass? Like in school?”
“No,” you explain, taking a sip of your wine. “A relationship hall pass. Permission to sleep with one chosen person if the opportunity ever arose.”
Charles’ eyes widen in surprise. “He suggested that? Really?”
You nod, feeling a fresh wave of anger wash over you. “He thought it would ‘spice things up’. Add some excitement to our relationship.”
“And how did you feel about that?” Charles asks carefully, studying your face.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Honestly? I felt ... hurt. Betrayed. Like I wasn’t enough for him anymore.”
Charles reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently placing his hand over yours. “Y/N, you’re more than enough. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
You look up, meeting his intense gaze. “Thank you. That ... means a lot.”
He squeezes your hand before pulling away, taking a sip of his drink. “So, what happened next?”
You feel a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Well, I agreed.”
Charles nearly chokes on his drink. “You did?”
You nod, unable to suppress a small chuckle at his reaction. “I did. But not for the reasons Carlos wanted.”
“Oh?” Charles leans in, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Do tell.”
“Well,” you say, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “Carlos chose Margot Robbie as his hall pass.”
Charles snorts. “Of course he did.”
“Exactly,” you agree. “So when it was my turn to choose ... I picked you.”
For a moment, Charles is speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he manages to sputter, “Me? You chose me?”
You nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “I did. You should have seen Carlos’ face. He was furious.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair, looking both flattered and bewildered. “I ... wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him quickly. “I didn’t choose you because I actually intended to ... you know. I chose you to teach Carlos a lesson.”
Charles nods slowly, processing this information. “And did he learn his lesson?”
You shrug, finishing off your wine. “I don’t know. I left him screaming in our hotel room.”
“Y/N,” Charles says softly, his voice full of concern. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. You deserve better.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Do I? Sometimes I wonder ...”
Charles reaches out again, this time cupping your cheek gently. “Listen to me. You are an incredible woman. You’re smart, funny, beautiful ... any man would be lucky to have you. And if Carlos can’t see that, if he’s willing to risk losing you over some stupid fantasy, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
You lean into his touch, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the wine. “Charles ...”
He leans in closer, his voice low and intense. “If you were with me, I would treat you like the queen you deserve to be. I would never even think about another woman, let alone ask for permission to be with one.”
Your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. “Charles, I ... we can’t ...”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “Why not? You have a hall pass, don’t you?”
You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of emotions clouding your judgment. “That’s not ... I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Charles sighs, dropping his hand from your face. “I know. And I would never want to be the reason you and Carlos break up. But Y/N, you have to know ... I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You have?”
He nods, a rueful smile on his face. “How could I not? You’re amazing. But you were with Carlos, and I respected that. I still do. But seeing you hurt like this ... it kills me.”
You feel tears spilling down your cheeks now, unable to hold them back any longer. “I don’t know what to do. I love Carlos, but after tonight ... I don’t know if I can trust him anymore.”
Charles pulls you into a gentle hug, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. “It’s okay. You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. “I just ... I feel so lost.”
He strokes your hair softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “I know. But you’re not alone. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
You pull back slightly, looking up into his eyes. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”
He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Always. But Y/N ... I want you to know that if you ever decide you want more than friendship, I’m here. I would never hurt you the way Carlos has.”
You feel a flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and fear. “Charles, I ...”
He shakes his head, placing a finger gently on your lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”
You nod, suddenly very aware of how close you are, of the electricity crackling between you. “I should ... I should probably go.”
Charles nods, but makes no move to let you go. “Probably. But do you want to?”
You bite your lip, torn between desire and duty. “I ... I don’t know.”
He leans in, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispers, “Come up to my room. We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk or watch a movie. But I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
You shiver at his closeness, your resolve weakening. “Charles, I ... what if someone sees us?”
He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “Let them see. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re allowed to have friends, to seek comfort when you’re hurting.”
You take a deep breath, knowing that you’re standing on the edge of a precipice. One wrong move and everything could come crashing down. But looking into Charles’ eyes, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence, you find yourself nodding.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Let’s go.”
Charles stands, offering you his hand. You take it, allowing him to lead you towards the elevators. As you walk, you can feel the eyes of other patrons on you, but Charles’ steady presence beside you helps you keep your head high.
In the elevator, you stand close together, the air thick with unspoken tension. Charles’ thumb traces small circles on the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm.
“Charles,” you say softly as the elevator begins to ascend. “I need you to know ... I’m not using you to get back at Carlos. Whatever happens tonight, it’s because I want it to.”
He turns to face you, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek once more. “I know. And I want you to know that whatever happens or doesn’t happen, tonight doesn’t change anything. I’ll still be here for you tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that.”
You lean into his touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over you for the first time since your fight with Carlos. “Thank you.”
The elevator dings, signaling your arrival at Charles’ floor. He leads you down the hallway to his suite, fumbling slightly with the key card before pushing the door open.
As you step inside, you’re struck by how different it feels from the suite you share with Carlos. Where your room is cluttered with both of your belongings, evidence of your life together, Charles’ suite is neat and minimalist. It feels like a blank slate, a fresh start.
Charles closes the door behind you, leaning against it as he watches you take in the room. “So,” he says softly, “what now?”
You turn to face him, suddenly feeling nervous. “I ... I don’t know. This is all happening so fast.”
He nods, understanding in his eyes. “We can take it slow. Why don’t we sit down, maybe order some room service? We can talk, or not talk. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
You feel a rush of affection for him, grateful for his patience and understanding. “That sounds nice.”
Charles moves to the phone, quickly ordering a selection of snacks and another bottle of wine. As he hangs up, he turns back to you with a shy smile. “I hope you don’t mind, I ordered your favorite.”
You blink in surprise. “You know my favorite wine?”
He shrugs, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I pay attention.”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his words. How many times had you had to remind Carlos of your preferences?
As you settle onto the plush sofa, Charles takes a seat beside you, close but not touching. “Y/N,” he says softly, “I want you to know that you’re in control here. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
You nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and desire. “I know. And I appreciate that, Charles. But ...”
He raises an eyebrow. “But?”
You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. “But I think I want to kiss you.”
Charles’ eyes widen, a look of surprise and joy spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, you lean forward, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss. For a moment, Charles is still, as if he can’t believe this is happening. Then, with a small groan, he responds, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss.
As you lose yourself in the sensation of Charles’ lips on yours, his strong arms pulling you closer, you feel a sense of rightness settle over you. You know that there will be consequences to face tomorrow, difficult conversations to be had. But for now, in this moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything else and simply feel.
When you finally pull apart, both breathing heavily, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “Me too. I just didn’t realize it until now.”
He pulls back slightly, searching your eyes. “What happens now?”
You take a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “Now ... now we take things one step at a time. I can’t make any promises, Charles. I need to sort things out with Carlos, figure out what I really want.”
He nods, understanding and a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I know. And I’ll respect whatever decision you make. Just know that I’m here, Y/N. Whatever you need.”
You lean in, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you. For everything.”
As you settle back into his arms, feeling safe and cared for in a way you haven’t in a long time, you know that whatever the future holds, this night has changed everything. And for the first time in a long time, you’re looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.
***
The soft morning light filters through the curtains, a sliver landing directly on the warming skin of your face. You stir slowly, awareness creeping in as you realize you’re not in your own bed. As your eyes flutter open, you find yourself nestled in Charles’ arms, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm against your cheek.
For a moment, panic flares in your chest as you try to piece together the events of the night before. But as memories flood back, you relax, remembering that while you and Charles shared kisses and conversation, nothing more intimate transpired.
Charles shifts beside you, his arms tightening slightly as he wakes. “Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
You tilt your head to look up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Good morning.”
He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “How are you feeling?”
You take a moment to assess, surprised by the sense of calm that settles over you. “Better than I expected, actually.”
Charles nods, relief evident in his eyes. “I’m glad. I was worried you might regret ... well, everything.”
You shake your head, sitting up slightly to meet his gaze. “I don’t regret anything. Last night ... it made a lot of things clear for me.”
He raises an eyebrow, curiosity and hope warring in his expression. “Oh? What kind of things?”
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead. “I think ... I think I want to be with you. Not just for a hall pass, not just for one night. I want to see where this could go between us.”
Charles’ face lights up, joy radiating from every feature. But then, just as quickly, concern clouds his expression. “Y/N, as much as I want that — and believe me, I do — what about Carlos?”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I need to end things with him. Properly. What he did, suggesting that hall pass ... it was just a symptom of bigger problems in our relationship. I see that now.”
Charles nods slowly, sitting up beside you. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to make any rash decisions because of one fight.”
You turn to face him fully, taking his hands in yours. “I’m sure. Last night, talking with you, being with you ... it made me realize what I’ve been missing. The respect, the understanding, the way you actually listen to me. I want that. I want you.”
A smile spreads across Charles’ face, but there’s still a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But ... are you sure you want to do this now? Maybe you should take some time, think things through.”
You shake your head, determination setting in. “No, I need to do this now. If I wait, I’ll just be living a lie. Carlos deserves to know the truth, and I ... I want to start this — us — with a clean slate.”
Charles squeezes your hands gently. “Okay. If you’re sure. But I’m not letting you face Carlos alone.”
You blink in surprise. “What do you mean?”
He meets your gaze steadily. “I mean I’m coming with you when you break up with him. I know Carlos, and I know he’s not going to take this well. I want to be there to support you.”
“Charles,” you protest weakly, “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s going to be messy enough without you there.”
He shakes his head firmly. “You’re not asking, I’m offering. More than that, I’m insisting. We’re in this together now. Let me be there for you.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by his support. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you.”
Charles leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Always. Now, why don’t we get cleaned up and face this together?”
An hour later, freshly showered and steeled for the confrontation ahead, you stand outside the door to your suite with Charles by your side. Your hand trembles slightly as you raise it to knock.
“Hey,” Charles says softly, catching your hand in his. “It’s going to be okay. I’m right here with you.”
You nod, taking a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the door. For a long moment, there’s silence. Then, just as you’re about to knock again, the door flies open.
Carlos stands there, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. His gaze flicks between you and Charles, confusion quickly morphing into anger.
“What the hell is this?” He demands, his voice rough.
You step forward, trying to keep your voice calm. “We need to talk.”
He laughs bitterly, throwing the door wider. “Oh, now you want to talk? After disappearing all night? Come on in, let’s have a nice chat.”
As you and Charles enter the suite, you can’t help but notice the state of disarray. Empty bottles litter the coffee table, and it’s clear Carlos hasn’t slept.
“Have a nice night?” Carlos spits, slamming the door behind you.
You flinch at the sound, but stand your ground. “I’m sorry for leaving like that. But we need to discuss what happened.”
He rounds on you, anger blazing in his eyes. “What’s there to discuss? You used your fucking hall pass, didn’t you? With him?” He jabs a finger at Charles, who remains calm but alert beside you.
“No, Carlos, I didn’t,” you say firmly. “Charles and I talked, that’s all.”
Carlos scoffs, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Oh, you expect me to believe that? You disappear all night, then show up with him in the morning, and I’m supposed to think nothing happened?”
Charles steps forward, his voice level. “She’s telling you the truth. Nothing happened between us last night.”
Carlos whirls on him, fury contorting his features. “Stay out of this, Leclerc. This is between me and my girlfriend.”
You feel anger bubbling up inside you at his possessive tone. “That’s just it. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”
The room goes deathly silent as your words hang in the air. Carlos stares at you, shock replacing anger for a moment before his face hardens again.
“What did you just say?” He growls.
You stand tall, drawing strength from Charles’ presence beside you. “I said I’m not your girlfriend anymore. I’m breaking up with you.”
For a moment, Carlos looks like you’ve physically struck him. Then, with a roar of rage, he sweeps his arm across the nearest surface, sending glasses and bottles crashing to the floor.
“You fucking bitch!” He shouts, advancing on you. “You sleep with my teammate and then have the audacity to break up with me?”
Charles steps between you and Carlos, his voice low and dangerous. “Back off. Now.”
Carlos sneers at him. “Oh, defending your new whore, are you? How noble.”
You push past Charles, anger overriding your fear. “That’s enough! I told you, I didn’t sleep with Charles. But even if I had, it would have been my right. You’re the one who suggested this stupid hall pass in the first place!”
Carlos laughs bitterly. “Oh, so this is my fault now? I suggest a little harmless fantasy to spice things up, and you use it as an excuse to cheat on me?”
“It wasn’t harmless!” You shout back. “It was hurtful and disrespectful. Did you ever stop to think how it would make me feel, knowing you wanted permission to sleep with other women?”
Carlos runs his hands through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “It wasn’t about that! It was just a game, a fantasy!”
You shake your head, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you. “That’s the problem. Our relationship isn’t a game. It’s not something to be risked on a whim. And the fact that you don’t understand that ... it just proves we’re not right for each other anymore.”
Carlos’ anger seems to deflate, replaced by a desperate pleading. “Y/N, please. We can work this out. I’m sorry about the hall pass thing, okay? I was an idiot. But don’t throw away everything we have over one stupid mistake.”
You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them back. “It’s not just about the hall pass. It’s about everything. The way you take me for granted, the way you never really listen to me. I deserve better than that. I deserve someone who respects me, who values me.”
Carlos’ gaze flicks to Charles, understanding dawning in his eyes. “And you think he’s that someone? My teammate? My friend?”
Charles steps forward, his voice soft but firm. “I’m sorry it happened this way. I never wanted to hurt you. But Y/N is right — she deserves better. And I want to be the one to give her that.”
For a moment, you think Carlos might lunge at Charles. But then, to your surprise, he crumples, sinking onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.
“How long?” He asks, his voice muffled.
You move closer, but stop short of touching him. “How long what?”
He looks up, his eyes red-rimmed. “How long have you two been ... feeling this way about each other?”
You exchange a glance with Charles before answering. “Honestly? I didn’t realize how I felt about Charles until last night. When he was there for me, really listening and supporting me ... it made me see what I’ve been missing.”
Carlos nods slowly, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “And you, Charles? How long have you been in love with my girlfriend?”
Charles takes a deep breath, meeting Carlos’ gaze steadily. “A while. But Carlos, I swear to you, nothing ever happened between us until last night. And even then, we didn’t sleep together. I respect you too much for that.”
Carlos laughs humorlessly. “Respect me? You’re stealing my girlfriend and you talk about respect?”
You feel a flare of irritation at his words. “He’s not stealing me. I’m not a possession. I’m making my own choice.”
Carlos stands abruptly, moving to the window and staring out at the city below. For a long moment, silence reigns in the room. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, defeated.
“Get out. Both of you. I can’t ... I can’t look at either of you right now.”
You take a step towards him, your heart aching despite everything. “Carlos ...”
He whirls around, his eyes flashing. “I said get out! Take your things and go. I’ll have the rest sent to you.”
You nod slowly, knowing that pushing further will only make things worse. As you move around the room, gathering your essential belongings, you feel a profound sadness settling over you. This is the end of a significant chapter in your life, and despite your certainty that it’s the right decision, it still hurts.
Charles waits by the door, a silent, supportive presence. When you’ve finished packing a small bag, you join him, pausing at the threshold to look back at Carlos one last time.
“I’m sorry it ended this way,” you say softly. “I hope ... I hope someday you can forgive us.”
Carlos doesn’t respond, doesn’t even turn to look at you. With a heavy sigh, you step into the hallway, Charles close behind you.
As the door clicks shut, you lean against the wall, suddenly feeling drained. Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“Are you okay?” He asks gently.
You nod against his chest, taking comfort in his warmth. “I will be. It’s just ... it’s a lot.”
He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I know. But you’re not alone. We’ll get through this together.”
You look up at him, managing a small smile despite the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you. “Together. I like the sound of that.”
***
The soft glow of the setting sun filters through the curtains of Charles’ hotel suite, casting a golden light across the room. You sit on the plush sofa, your legs tucked beneath you, a glass of Prosecco cradled in your hands. Across from you, Charles leans against the minibar, his own glass in hand, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches you.
“What?” You ask, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks under his intense gaze.
Charles shakes his head, his smile widening. “Nothing. I just ... I can’t believe you’re really here. With me.”
You take a sip of your Prosecco, savoring the crisp, bubbly taste. “I’m having a hard time believing it myself. But I’m glad I am.”
Charles moves to join you on the sofa, settling in close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “How are you feeling? After everything that happened with Carlos ...”
You sigh, leaning back against the cushions. “Honestly? I feel ... lighter. Like a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted.”
Charles nods, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad. But I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. If you need time, space ...”
You cut him off by placing your hand gently on his arm. “I appreciate that. But I’ve had years of space with Carlos. What I want now is to be here, with you.”
His eyes light up at your words, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulls back, you can’t help but smile at the joy radiating from him.
“You know,” you say, taking another sip of your Prosecco, “I have to admit, I was surprised when you ordered this.”
Charles raises an eyebrow. “The Prosecco? Why?”
You shrug, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Carlos always insisted on ordering Spanish cava. He said it was better. I never had the heart to tell him I preferred Prosecco.”
Charles looks at you incredulously. “You’re kidding. He never noticed?”
You shake your head. “Nope. I mean, I drank it, of course. But ... I don’t know. It just never seemed important enough to make a fuss over.”
Charles sets his glass down on the coffee table, turning to face you fully. “Y/N, listen to me. Your preferences, your likes and dislikes — they’re important. They matter. You matter.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you. That ... that means a lot.”
He reaches out, gently wiping away a tear that has escaped. “It’s the truth. And for the record, I’ve known you preferred Prosecco since that team dinner in Monza two years ago.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You remember that?”
Charles nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Of course. You lit up when they brought out the Prosecco. Your whole face changed. I’ve never seen someone so happy over a glass of bubbly.”
You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “I can’t believe you noticed that.”
“I notice everything about you,” Charles says softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I always have.”
You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “Like what?”
Charles’ thumb traces gentle circles on your skin as he speaks. “Like how you always twist your hair around your finger when you’re deep in thought. Or how you bite your lip to hide your smile when you’re trying not to laugh at one of the guys’ bad jokes.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, touched by his attention to detail. “What else?”
He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I know you have a secret stash of gummy bears in your purse for long flights. And that you always hum Dancing Queen under your breath when you’re in a good mood.”
You gasp in mock horror. “Charles Leclerc, have you been spying on me?”
He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Not spying. Just ... paying attention. Is that okay?”
You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat at the tenderness in his gaze. “It’s more than okay. It’s ... it’s wonderful.”
Charles leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re wonderful. And you deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates every little thing about you.”
You close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. When you pull back, you’re both a little breathless.
“Charles,” you murmur, “I think I’m falling for you.”
His face lights up with joy. “That’s good, because I’ve already fallen for you.”
You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in years. “Oh really? When did that happen?”
Charles pretends to think for a moment. “Hmm, probably around the time you yelled at that journalist for asking me stupid questions after my DNF in Canada.”
You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, I forgot about that. I was so embarrassed afterwards.”
He gently pries your hands away, his eyes shining with admiration. “Don’t be. It was amazing. No one’s ever defended me like that before.”
You shrug, feeling a bit sheepish. “He was being an ass. You didn’t deserve that after the race you had.”
Charles pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “See? That’s what I mean. You care. Deeply and fiercely. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
You snuggle into his side, reveling in the warmth and safety of his embrace. “You know, it’s funny. I always thought I was happy with Carlos. But being here with you ... it’s making me realize how much I was missing.”
Charles presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Like what?”
You take a moment to gather your thoughts. “Well, for one thing, this. Just sitting and talking, really talking. With Carlos, it always felt like we were just going through the motions, you know? Like we were playing the roles of the perfect couple without really connecting.”
Charles nods, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your arm. “I get that. It’s easy to fall into patterns, to stop really seeing each other.”
“Exactly,” you agree. “And it’s not just the big things. It’s the little stuff too. Like ...” You pause, a memory suddenly surfacing. “Oh! Like the flowers.”
Charles raises an eyebrow. “Flowers?”
You sit up, turning to face him. “Yeah. Carlos always sent me these huge bouquets of red roses. Which, don’t get me wrong, were beautiful. But ...”
“But they’re not your favorite,” Charles finishes for you.
You blink in surprise. “How did you know that?”
He grins, looking a bit bashful. “Remember that charity gala in Milan last year? You spent at least ten minutes gushing over the centerpieces.”
You gasp, the memory flooding back. “The peonies! Oh my god, Charles, how do you remember these things?”
He shrugs, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “Like I said, I pay attention. Especially when it comes to you.”
You feel your heart swell with affection. “Well, Mr. Attentive, what else have you noticed about me?”
Charles pretends to think hard, tapping his chin dramatically. “Let’s see ... I know you prefer your coffee with just a splash of milk, no sugar. You always double-knot your shoelaces before a run. Oh, and you have a secret obsession with cheesy 80s power ballads.”
You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. “Okay, now I know you’re making things up. There’s no way you could know about my power ballad addiction.”
He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh really? So if I were to start singing Total Eclipse of the Heart, you wouldn’t immediately join in?”
Your jaw drops. “How ... how did you ...”
Charles grins triumphantly. “Team karaoke night in Singapore. You thought everyone was too drunk to remember, but I wasn’t as far gone as I let on.”
You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
He gently pries your hands away, his expression soft and sincere. “Hey, no hiding. I loved it. You were so free, so happy. It was beautiful to watch.”
You feel tears prickling at your eyes again, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings. “Charles ...”
He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that have escaped. “Y/N, I want you to know that I see you. All of you. The good, the bad, the silly, the serious. And I love every part of it.”
You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “I’m starting to see you too, Charles. And I ... I think I might be falling in love with what I see.”
His face lights up with joy, and he pulls you in for a deep, passionate kiss. When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless and grinning.
“So,” Charles says, his voice low and husky, “what do you say we order some room service? I’m thinking ... chocolate lava cake for dessert?”
You gasp in delight. “How did you know that’s my favorite?”
He winks, reaching for the room service menu. “I told you, mon cœur. I pay attention.”
As Charles calls down to place the order, you lean back against the sofa, a contented smile playing on your lips. You can’t help but marvel at how different this feels from your relationship with Carlos. With Charles, you feel seen, heard, understood in a way you never have before.
When he hangs up the phone and rejoins you on the sofa, you curl into his side, feeling perfectly at home in his arms. As the night deepens around you, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen kisses, you know that this is just the beginning of something beautiful. With Charles, you’re not just being loved — you’re being cherished, appreciated for every little thing that makes you who you are.
And as you drift off to sleep in his arms later that night, the taste of chocolate and Prosecco still lingering on your lips, you can’t help but feel that you’ve finally found where you truly belong.
***
Carlos stands at the edge of the pit lane, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. You and Charles are huddled together by the Ferrari garage, laughing and talking animatedly. The sight sends a sharp pang through Carlos’ chest, a mixture of anger, jealousy, and regret swirling in his gut.
He watches as Charles leans in, whispering something in your ear that makes you throw your head back in laughter. Carlos grits his teeth, remembering a time when he was the one to make you laugh like that.
“They look happy, don’t they?” A voice says beside him.
Carlos turns to see Lando standing there, a sympathetic look on his face. “What do you want?” Carlos growls, not in the mood for conversation.
Lando holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Just checking on you, mate. I know this can’t be easy to watch.”
Carlos scoffs, turning his attention back to you and Charles. “I’m fine. It’s not like I care what she does anymore.”
Even as he says the words, Carlos knows they’re a lie. He does care. He cares so much it feels like he’s being torn apart from the inside.
He watches as Charles pulls out a small package from his pocket, handing it to you with a flourish. Your eyes light up as you unwrap it, revealing what looks like a bag of candy.
“What’s that about?” Carlos mutters, more to himself than to Lando.
Lando squints, trying to get a better look. “Looks like ... gummy bears? Huh, I didn’t know Y/N liked those.”
Carlos feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “She doesn’t,” he says automatically. But even as the words leave his mouth, he sees the way you’re beaming at Charles, popping a gummy bear into your mouth with evident delight.
“You sure about that?” Lando asks, raising an eyebrow.
Carlos doesn’t respond, his mind racing. How had he never known you liked gummy bears? Had you ever mentioned it? Had he ever bothered to ask?
He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your laughter again. Charles is holding out his phone, showing you something on the screen. As you lean in to look, Charles’ arm slips around your waist, pulling you close.
Carlos feels his hands clench into fists at his sides. He wants to look away, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from the scene.
“You know,” Lando says carefully, “maybe you should talk to them. Clear the air.”
Carlos shakes his head vehemently. “There’s nothing to talk about. She made her choice.”
Lando sighs. “Look, mate, I know you’re hurting. But-”
“But nothing,” Carlos snaps. “Just drop it.”
Lando holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m here if you need to talk, though.”
As Lando walks away, Carlos continues to watch you and Charles. He sees the way Charles’ hand rests on the small of your back, the way you lean into him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Suddenly, Charles looks up, his eyes meeting Carlos’ across the paddock. For a moment, they just stare at each other, an unspoken tension crackling between them. Then, to Carlos’ surprise, Charles says something to you and starts making his way over.
Carlos straightens, steeling himself for the confrontation. As Charles approaches, he can see you watching anxiously from a distance.
“Carlos,” Charles says, his voice cautious. “Can we talk?”
Carlos crosses his arms, his jaw clenched. “What’s there to talk about?”
Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know this situation is ... complicated. But I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you.”
Carlos laughs bitterly. “Hurt me? You stole my girlfriend. How did you think that was going to make me feel?”
Charles shakes his head. “I didn’t steal anyone. Y/N made her own choice.”
“Right,” Carlos spits. “And I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.”
Charles takes a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. “I won’t deny that I had feelings for Y/N for a long time. But I never acted on them while you were together. Never.”
Carlos scoffs. “Oh, how noble of you.”
“Carlos, please,” Charles says, his voice softening. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But can’t you see how happy she is?”
Carlos’ eyes flick back to you, standing by the garage and watching them anxiously. He hates to admit it, but you do look happy. Happier than he can remember seeing you in a long time.
“She was happy with me,” Carlos insists, but the words sound hollow even to his own ears.
Charles gives him a sad smile. “Was she? Really? Because from what she’s told me, there were a lot of things you never noticed about her.”
Carlos feels a flare of anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Charles says carefully, “that sometimes we take the people we love for granted. We stop seeing them, really seeing them.”
Carlos wants to argue, to defend himself, but he finds the words sticking in his throat. Because deep down, he knows Charles is right.
“Did you know,” Charles continues, his voice gentle, “that her favorite flowers are pink peonies? Not red roses?”
Carlos blinks, caught off guard. “What?”
Charles nods. “Or that she prefers Prosecco to cava? Or that she has a secret addiction to 80s power ballads?”
With each revelation, Carlos feels like he’s being hit with a fresh wave of regret. How had he missed all of these things? How had he failed to notice what made you, you?
“I ...” Carlos starts, then stops, unsure of what to say.
Charles puts a hand on his shoulder, the gesture surprisingly kind given the circumstances. “I’m not telling you this to hurt you. I’m telling you because I want you to understand. Y/N deserves to be with someone who sees her, who appreciates every little thing about her.”
Carlos nods slowly, the fight draining out of him. “And that someone is you?”
Charles smiles softly. “I hope so. I’m certainly trying to be.”
They stand in silence for a moment, both looking over at you. You’re still watching them anxiously, clearly worried about what they might be saying to each other.
Finally, Carlos speaks, his voice rough with emotion. “Just ... just promise me you’ll treat her right. Better than I did.”
Charles nods solemnly. “I promise. With everything I have.”
As Charles turns to walk back to you, Carlos calls out, “Charles?”
Charles pauses, looking back over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” Carlos says quietly. “For loving her the way she deserves.”
Charles gives him a small, understanding smile before continuing on his way. Carlos watches as he returns to you, sees the way your face lights up as Charles pulls you into a comforting embrace.
As he turns to walk away, Carlos feels a mix of emotions swirling inside him. There’s still pain, still regret, but there’s also a glimmer of something else. Something that feels a lot like acceptance.
He realizes now that he had taken you for granted, had failed to see the beautiful, complex person you truly were. And while it hurts to admit it, he knows that Charles sees all of that and more.
As he makes his way back to his own garage, Carlos makes a silent promise to himself. To pay more attention, to really see the people in his life. Because he never wants to make the same mistake again, never wants to lose someone else because he failed to appreciate them.
And as he glances back one last time, seeing you and Charles walking hand-in-hand, laughing and lost in your own world, Carlos feels a weight lift from his shoulders.
It’s not easy, and it still hurts, but he knows now that this is how it should be. You deserve to be with someone who knows you, truly knows you, inside and out.
And as much as it pains him to admit it, that someone isn’t him. It’s Charles.
With a deep breath, Carlos turns away, ready to face whatever comes next. He’s lost you, but in doing so, he’s gained a valuable lesson. One he won’t soon forget.
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