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fakebwitch · 5 months ago

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mean nerdy!rafe helps reader with physics…

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you played with your hands while walking along the corridor that would lead you to his dorm. you stopped recognizing the number of his room, you took a deep breath trying to relax yourself as you raised your hand, knocking two times on the wooden door. after a few seconds the door opened wide, your eyes met the figure of rafe, a white polo shirt with simple brown pants, his face decorated with a delicate pair of glasses. he gave you a small look before moving leaving you some space to enter, “come in”.

choosing rafe cameron as your tutor was one of the last things you would have wanted. you had tried to ask other students but everyone was busy with their sessions or they already had too many people to tutor for, and he was your last hope. he was a few years older than you and was fucking good at any scientific subject - math, physics, chemistry, biology - always getting the best grades, and this did nothing but increase his ego, exploiting his excellent knowledge as an excuse to be arrogant and presumptuous. your grades were really bad and failing in physics was certainly not among your plans, so you had to resort to his help.

you would never have thought that he would agree to give you private lessons, you thought that he would have much better things to do, like studying for the next sessions or maybe he already had someone else to whom he dedicated his time, instead he looked at you for a few seconds — maybe feeling your despair — and accepted, giving you an appointment for friday at 5 p.m. at his dorm.

you get inside, a strong smell of cigarette with a vanilla room perfumer flooded your nostrils. the room was quite tidy, very minimally furnished with few personal decorations — unlike yours— there was a small bookcase full of books, and not to mention his desk, covered with scribbled sheets, just as you had imagined it. he sat on one of the chairs fixing his hair, “sit” he said looking at you, you did as he said by sitting in front of him, placing your bag on the chair next to you.

“let’s just start” he said crossing his hands on the table, you nodded taking out your book with a small notebook, as well as a small pencil case. “what do you want to start with?” he asked you, his look stinging while waiting for your answer, you had never had a real conversation with him and being aware of his character you didn’t really know how to behave, you didn’t want to look stupid in his eyes. you opened the book showing him the topic you hadn’t understood, rafe gave it a little look without uttering a word, an imperceptible “mhm” was audible to you while he took his notes.

before you noticed it he began to explain, his words fluid and clear while he gestured lightly with his hands, his eyes fixed on yours sometimes fell on his notes or on your book showing you what he was referring to, not even the slightest difficulty transpired from his speeches, as if he was talking about a banal topic that did not include the most complicated formulas and most absurd meanings. holding his gaze was difficult for you, having to focus your attention on something other than his sharp blue eyes. no matter how much you got lost in the details of his face and how he seemed so involved in what he was explaining to you you could not afford distractions, you had to listen and you had to understand above all what he was saying, or you would not have solved anything.

he stopped leaning his back on the back of the chair, the biceps muscle contracted as he scratched the back of his neck, “got it?” it was all he said, his tone almost arrogant as if not understanding what he said was stupid. “yeah” you nodded placing the pen on the table, on the sheet of your notebook some small sentences were visible concerning some important formulas or terminologies.

“we need to make a little practice” he said taking your book in his hands, flipping through the pages in search of some exercise to put into practice what he explained. the room felt suffocatingly quiet, his presence was intimidating, his sharp gaze like a dagger that kept you on edge.

“let’s try this problem” he said, sliding the book across the table toward you. his hand brushed yours briefly, and you felt a jolt shoot up your arm. it was ridiculous how much his touch affected you, how even his scent—a mix of clean cologne and the faint, lingering cigarette smoke—was making your head spin. “okay” you murmured, trying to focus on the equation scribbled on the paper. but your mind was anything but clear. you picked up the pen, feeling his eyes on you, watching every move you made as if you were under a microscope. he got up from his seat, your breath hitched as you heard his slow step approaching you. you tried to shake it off, focusing your attention to what you should’ve solved, but then he stopped right behind you, you could feel his presence towering you, his scents even more clear now that he was so close to you.

“you’re doing it wrong” he said, leaning closer. his voice was low and curt, but not cruel. he reached out, his large hand covering yours as he guided your pen across the page. his touch was firm, his skin warm, and you found yourself holding your breath as he pressed against your back. “there. that’s how you set it up” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. his breath ghosted across your cheek, and you couldn’t help but turn slightly, catching the edge of his jawline and the curve of his lips in your peripheral vision. he was so close you could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes when he glanced at you.

“are you even paying attention?” his words snapped you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, heat flooding your cheeks. “y-yeah, I’m paying attention” you stammered, though your voice betrayed you.

rafe smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “doesn’t look like it.” he sat on the chair next to you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something about his expression—arrogant, almost predatory—that made your stomach flutter in the most inconvenient way.

“i said I’m paying attention” you repeated, your voice a little firmer this time, your eyes never leaving his. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how flustered you were.

“hmm” he hummed, tilting his head as if he were trying to figure you out. “prove it. solve the next one on your own.” he slid another sheet toward you, his fingers lingering on the edge of the paper. “let’s see if you actually learned anything.” his voice provocative, almost amused by the situation, as if he knew the kind of effect he was having on you. you did your best to hold back, the words threatened to come out of your mouth but you swallowed them; being given private lessons by the best student was certainly not something that happened to everyone, and you could not afford to lose this privilege just to retort his stupid provocations.

you picked up the pen, determined to prove him wrong, even if your heart was pounding like a drum. the numbers and formulas blurred in front of you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, the heat of his body still lingering near yours. you tried your best, but you didn’t even have the slightest idea of where to start. minutes passed, and each seconds you became more discouraged, his gaze fixed on you almost judging you and you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can’t,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. “of course you can’t.” he stood up, moving behind you. you felt your chair shift as he placed his hands on the backrest, leaning over your shoulder to look at your work. his voice was close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “let me show you again.” you froze as his hands settled lightly on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing against the base of your neck. it felt too intimate, too intentional, but he didn’t seem fazed. instead, he leaned closer, his chest just barely grazing your back as he reached for the notebook.

“this is where you keep screwing up” he murmured, his tone low and deliberate. “you’re overthinking it.” his hands squeezed your shoulders lightly before one slid down your arm, guiding your hand to pick up the pen again.

you could barely focus on what he was saying. every nerve in your body was hyperaware of his touch, the heat radiating off him as he stayed impossibly close. you managed to scrawl out the equation under his guidance, but your mind was a mess, the numbers meaningless.

when he finally pulled back, his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “see? wasn’t so hard.” your breath hitched, and you turned to look at him, your faces dangerously close. his smirk widened, his eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. the air between you felt heavy, charged.

“rafe—” you started, but your words faltered when he leaned in, his hand brushing your jaw as he tilted your face up. “relax” he said, his voice a mix of command and tease. “you’re way too tense” his thumb grazed your cheek, and before you could think, his lips were on yours—soft but insistent, a mixture of dominance and curiosity.

you were shocked by his gesture, it took you a few seconds to actually realize that his lips were on yours, and that he was kissing you. your hands tightened around his face pushing him towards you, the kiss quickly became more intense, both fighting for dominance.

rafe pulled away from the kiss trying to catch his breath, but was taken by surprise by your lips again on his, eager to taste his soft lips again. one of your hands went down his chest, pushing him so that he was sitting on the chair next to yours, and in a quick movement you sat on his lap. rafe didn’t utter a word, leaving you free to do whatever you wanted; he couldn’t hide his amusement in seeing you so eager, taking the lead.

his hand tightened around your chin, moving you away from his lips. his intense eyes stared at you for what seemed like an eternity, admiring the way you seemed so desperate after just one kiss, your lips flushed and your hair already messy, your eyes stared at him with a burning desire that you could no longer hide.

“so eager are we?” he was teasing you, a faint laugh left his lips. you tried to speak but his hand was too tight and you knew that if you opened your mouth nothing sensible would come out, he would only have made fun of you. he let go of the grip on your chin, letting it wrap more gently under the jaw, angled your face while his lips approached your cheek, placing a sloppled kiss right under your ear. you bit your lip closing your eyes while his kisses followed the line of your jaw, slowly going down towards your neck. for sure that bastard knew how to use his lips.

his lips moved skillfully against your neck, sucking and wetting the skin. unknowingly your hips began to move against his lap, looking for a desperate clutch with his bulge, your pussy almost praying to be touched. his free hand tightened around your waist stopping your movements, his lips let go of your neck bringing his gaze back to you. “didn’t know you were so needy” he said lowly almost as if he was talking to himself, his cock semi hard in his pants and he could feel through the thin material of your panties a wet spot.

"you were the one who kissed me first," you replied, raising an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth lifting into a sly smirk. you weren't lying-it had been him. he kissed you first, set everything into motion, and now here you were, the one craving more, so typical of him.

his gaze darkened, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "and you were the one who couldn't keep your hands off me, pushing me back so you could grind on my dick" his voice was low, dripping with heat, each word sinking into you. “just a consequence of your gestures” you said shrugging your shoulders, rafe couldn’t help but laugh at your answer.

“i think we should do less talking” he said in a whisper, resting his lips on yours, this time he didn’t stop you, letting you rub yourself on his bulge, earning you little whinings from him. his hand tightened around your breasts, squeezing it between his hand, you weren’t wearing a bra so it was easy for him to feel your hard nipple and squeeze it between his fingers through the material of the shirt, earning a small gasp from you.

“you want this?” he asked you, as if it wasn’t already obvious enough. but he needed to hear you say it, just to boost his ego even more. his hand made space under your skirt, playing with your panties. “yes” you answered without hesitation, the need between your legs growing more and more. his thumb gently brushed your clit, moving in a circular way, the contact sent a shiver all over your back and you couldn’t help but let out a little whine at the slightest pleasure he was making you feel.

“stop teasing” you ordered him in a firm voice, your hands clenched around his shoulders in search of support. “as you prefer” he replied in a moking tone, a grin on his face. without wasting more time with two fingers he moved the material to the side, with two fingers he collected all your wetness. he started teasing your clit again with his thumb, this time, however, he pushed two of his fingers inside you, a big gasp left your lips to the sudden intrusion. his fingers moved quickly and with experts inside you, touching all the spots that made you shudder, as if he knew you for years and knew by heart how to make you melt.

your head fell back completely overwhelmed by pleasure, small and continuous moans kept coming out of your mouth, unable to contain you. rafe loved how responsive you were, your moans were like a sweet song to his ears and he couldn’t help it, he angled his fingers inside you, his pace getting faster and faster making you continue with your melody. “love your pretty sounds” he said, his eyes completely fixed on you while his hands worked on you like no one had ever done, “fuck... just like this” you incited him, your voice choked completely out of breath, your hips moved slightly, riding his fingers.

you could still feel his hard cock against the soft skin of your thigh, and for the pleasure he was making you feel you couldn’t help but reciprocate. you brought your hands to his belt, unbuttoning it quickly, you unbuttoned his pants and with your fingers you tightened the zipper pushing it all the way down with a quick movement. you stopped for a few seconds, your legs trembled while rafe continued to hit your spongy spot. you continued your work by pulling out his cock, his pink and swollen tip practically screaming to be taken care of, he was long and thick. lke a magnet your hand tightened around it, your thumb rubbed on the fluffy skin of his tip.

“g-goddamn...” his head fell back, a spit fell from your mouth ending directly on his tip, using your fingers you spread it along the entire length, quickly working the hand around him. his expression was simply fantastic, his face corrugated, his eyebrows sulked while his mouth emitted small pathetic whimpers. despite this his fingers continued to abuse your little wet hole, his free hand tightened tightly around your thigh, his fingers dug into the soft skin leaving a mark.

“f-fuck” his voice completely broken as he continued to moan your name, your walls tightened around his fingers at the sight below you. you could not explain what you were feeling, in seeing a presumptuous, unpleasant, proud guy like him completely wrapped around fingers, a mess of moans and whines, bringing yourself closer and closer to the orgasm.

slimy sounds filled the room, coming from both of you. you tightened your hand around his tip, focusing on it again, having realized how sensitive he was. “h-holy shiiit baby” a broken moan came out of his mouth and you could feel his legs shaking under you, he was close.

and you were too.

he could feel it, from how your moans were more persistent and how your pussy was clenching around him, almost trapping his fingers. “as much as I love you pretty hand around me, i fucking need to be inside you” and so he took out his fingers, your hole clenched around nothing as you felt your stomach squirm for the orgasm just denied. your hand around his cock stopped,you watched him with a pout, even if you knew that in a few seconds you would finally have his cock inside you.

“you better make it worth” you provoked him. you knew he would fall into your trap, “oh don’t worry angel... you know I’ve got you.” and before you could realize his cock slung inside you, his length made space inside you while his thickness widened your walls. rafe let out a choked moan at the sensation of your warm walls, which welcomed him inside him. “feels soo good around me... so fucking tight” he praised you, his hand was around the flesh of your ass, holding it in his hands.

without giving you a any time to get used to him, he began to push himself hard inside you, his tip hit in no time your cervix. he helped you take off the shirt you were wearing, throwing it somewhere in the room. his hand immediately tightened around your breasts, squeezing it. he gave you an hard slap on the ass as his hot mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking it and biting it lightly. you wrapped your hands in his hair, pushing him closer to your chest, completely ruining his carefully done hairstyle.

you don’t know what happened to you, but you put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him backwards so that his back was against the back of the chair, you dug your nails into his skin while you crossed his gaze — confused but intrigued by your sudden gesture of dominance — his cock stopped inside you. you began to ride him, your hips moved quickly as a hand of rafe came down to stop firmly on your waist, his glasses completely fogged. “shit rafe... feels so good inside me” you said with a big moan, his big cock sank into your hot and wet pussy. you lowered your face meeting his lips, the kiss was completely messy, your tongues quickly collided with each other, the salivas mixed together as well as your cum inside you.

“look so beautiful like this... riding me so fucking good” he said with clenched teeth, another hard slap on your ass. “i’m cumming” you said immediately after hearing his words, you could feel the weight in your stomach grow. rafe’s hips met your thrusts, while his hand went down, the index and middle finger moved quickly in a circular way on your clit, leading you to high.

with a big moan you finally reached your climax, your movements slowed down abruptly, your legs trembled at the intense pleasure achieved, and if it hadn’t been for his hands tight around your body you were sure that you would have already fallen. “fuuck” your pussy tightened around his cock, releasing your cum that was covering his tip inside you.

“that’s it baby, took me so well... f-fuck gonna cum” his voice hoarse as he used his last forces to push himself inside you, trying to reach his orgasm. it took you a few seconds to recover from the insane orgasm you had just had, despite the sense of overstimulation you moved your hips slowly, meeting his thrusts. “shit... here we go” when he feel he’s reached the limit he pulled out, he squeezed a hand around his length moving it quickly up and down, with a few pumps splashes of his cum finally fell on your lower stomach.

“thaaat’s it” his words dragged as he fully enjoyed the sensation, his hand tight around the tip not wanting to waste even a drop. without thinking twice you brought two fingers along your stomach, collecting his cum and then bringing your fingers to your mouth, savoring its flavor.

he didn’t say anything, but his gestures spoke clearly. he approached to give you one last intense kiss, savoring himself on your tongue, his hand gave a last slap to your ass before finally detaching from your lips, “we have to continue studying” he said, suddenly returning seriously. he lifted you slightly so that you were sitting on the chair next to him.

he got up from his chair, adjusting his pants and polo while sitting in front of you. “alright, let’s get back to work,” he said, his tone casual, as if nothing had happened. but the way his gaze lingered on you told a different story.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #x reader #smut #rafe cameron story #rafe cameron x fem!reader #x fem!reader

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iamred-iamyellow · 11 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Think Fast, You Only Get One Try - [Part 1]

♥ prev | next

♥ series masterlist | main masterlist

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ chapter one synopsis: after almost two months it was finally time to tell lando about your daughter.

♥ smau + written - fc: girls on pinterest - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: thank you so much for almost 400 followers and 1k+ notes on the intro <3 i really hope this part 1 lives up to your expectations! The next parts will have more smau and will ideally be longer (I just had to get the plot rolling with this first chapter lol)

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yourusername vroom vroom

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You knocked on Lando’s penthouse apartment door, knowing there was no going back now. Bless your sister for being able to find where he lives in just a couple of minutes on the internet.

The man who opened the door wasn’t Lando, but Max Fewtrell. His gaze narrowed.

“Who are you?”

“I’m not sure if you remember me... but I met you and Lando at a club in Melbourne last year.”

His eyes saccaded between you and the baby you were holding.

"Lando," he shouted from the doorway. "Stay here. I'll go get him."

Max made his way to one of Lando's rooms, where he was talking to Oscar.

"There's a woman here to see you," he paused. "With a baby. She said she knew you from Melbourne last year."

Lando got up quickly and made his way to the front door. Once he got there, he stared at you and your daughter.

You nodded. "Her name is Camila."

He held his arms out, silently asking to hold her. After you handed Camila to him, he gently rocked her in his arms.

"Come in."

You had a very long conversation on the couch with Lando as his two friends eavesdropped from the hallway. They didn't even bother going into another room and closing the door.

"I want to be a part of her life, if that's okay with you?"

You nodded. "Could you start tomorrow?"

"What?" Lando blinked at you.

"My sitter quit, and I have work tomorrow. I checked your race calendar; you just got back from Japan and don't have to go to Shanghai until next week."

"Yeah, but I still have sim and training and-"

"You better hope your physical therapist knows how to rock a baby to sleep then," you said sternly.

"I can help if you want," Oscar piped up. "With Max and I, I'm sure you'll be able to spend some time with your daughter."

You smiled at Oscar. "I'll be leaving you in charge."

That statement elicited an eye roll out of Lando.

He shifted his gaze from Camila to you. "Alright, yeah, I'll take care of her for the next few days."

"Thank you," you placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll drop her off tomorrow at 10?"

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-The Next Day-

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oscarpiastri babysitting duty

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user7 who's baby?

user3 oscar would be such a cute girl dad

lilyzniemer I agree

user1 🥹

user5 AWWW

user8 that should be me 😔

user2 holding your hand

user9 that should be me

user4 making you laugh

user12 you and lily are so cute :(

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

-first is lando's phone, second is yours-

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-A Week Later-

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landonorris life lately

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user7 Shanghai is soooo pretty

user9 so glad china back on the calendar

oscarpiastri proof that instagram is fake

maxfewtrell he's forgetting about sm REALLY important in his "life lately"

user8 ???

user2 @/oscarpiastri @/maxfewtrell what do you know

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

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I would marry you with paper rings

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

May 2016

How Max Verstappen wins his first f1 race and goes home to show his girlfriend his trophy…and maybe something else too...

December 2024:

Max brings his family home from the hospital and finally gets to give his fiancée a proper ring.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this!

May 2016:

The roar of the crowd was deafening, but Max Verstappen barely noticed. His ears were ringing, his chest felt tight, and his grip on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white. He barely registered the voice of his race engineer crackling through his headset.

“Unbelievable. Unbelievable, Max.”

The words didn’t feel real.

“You are a race winner!”

It felt like they belonged to someone else’s story, someone older, more experienced—someone who wasn’t an 18-year-old kid still trying to figure out the enormity of it all. He blinked hard, trying to process the magnitude of what just happened.

The pit wall erupted in cheers as he drove toward the podium, his hands trembling on the wheel. It wasn’t just any win—it was the win. At 18 years and 227 days old, Max Verstappen had become the youngest race winner in Formula 1 history.

He had done it.

As the team crowded around him in parc fermé, he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. Christian Horner was there to hug him, Helmut Marko clapped him on the back, and Daniel Ricciardo tousled his sweat-soaked hair. The cameras flashed relentlessly, capturing every angle of his historic moment.

And still…the most important person was not there.

Colette was back in Monaco.

Hours later, once he finally got to his phone…after he was back in his hotel room, there was a message from her waiting for him. Of course, there was.

I am so proud of you, Maxie. Soak up every moment, enjoy it. You deserve this, so, so much. We’ll celebrate when you are back home, mon coeur. You were amazing out there today and I love you so much.

Somehow these 5 sentences meant more to him than any other accolade ever could.

He stared at the trophy perched on his nightstand. The weight of it—both physical and symbolic—was overwhelming.

He’d spent years working for this moment. His entire life had been shaped around the pursuit of success, of proving he belonged on the top step of the podium. But now that he’d done it? He would give anything to share this moment with the girl he loved.

Colette had been his constant long before Formula 1 entered the picture. She’d seen him at his worst, supported him when no one else believed in him, and always reminded him of who he was outside the car.

She was his staunchest supporter and the first person that woul dcall hi out for being an idiot.

She grounded him, cosetted him, cared for him, cheered for every win and held him after every failure.

She was the one thing in his life that he could trust unconditionally…that loved him for who he was and not what he could do.

Of course he had driven this car to victory. And Colettte would never take credit for any of his wins…but Max knew the truth.

This win wasn’t just his—it was theirs.

The idea hit him in the early hours of the morning, somewhere between the adrenaline still coursing through his veins and the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids.

He needed to show her how much she meant to him, how much he wanted her to be part of this journey—not just as a girlfriend, but as his partner in everything that came next.

But how do you capture something so big?

By 7 a.m., Max was wandering the quiet streets of Barcelona. The city felt different in the early morning light—calm, peaceful. He had no real plan, just an address for a small jewellery store he’d googled hours before.

His Spanish wasn’t great, but he figured he could manage. He needed something. Something to show her just how much she meant to him.

He had bought his sister a handbag the first time he had scored points in F1…but handbag didn’t even come close to being enough for Colette.

So there he was…in that jewelery store.

The bell above the door jingled as he stepped inside, and a man behind the counter greeted him warmly, raising an eyebrow at the young man who looked like he hadn’t slept.

“You’re here for something important, aren’t you?” the man asked knowingly, his accent thick but his tone kind.

Max hesitated, glancing down at the glass cases filled with glittering jewellery. He’d never done anything like this before. He had never even bought Colette a pair of earrings on his own. He had bought her other stuff, of course he had. Birthday gifts and stuff for christmas but… “Yeah, uh... I need something… special. For my girlfriend.”

The man smiled knowingly and pulled out a tray of rings. “Something like this?” he asked, gesturing to a selection of delicate designs.

Max’s eyes landed on a gold band with a small, heart-shaped diamond. It wasn’t flashy or oversized—it was understated, elegant, and perfect.

Just like Colette.

***

Hours later… Max was back in Monaco.

The trophy tucked under his arm, bag thrown over his shoulder as he unlocked the door to their apartment.

He wasn’t sure if Colette was already home from work…he hadn’t called ahead telling her either.

“Max?” and there she was, already dressed in her pyjamas as she stared at him wide-eyed, coming out of the kitchen.

“I won,” he blurted, grinning like a kid showing off a school project.

THat was all he needed to say, before she was throwing herself in his arms. His bag hit the floor, as he hugged her and she kissed him, cupping his cheek, rapid fire french that he would never learn to understand as quickly as she spoke it, intermixed with english and her horribly accented dutch.

And for just a moment Max got to hold his girlfriend…the best trophy he had ever won.

“I am so proud of you, mon coeur,” Colette whispered and he leaned his forehead against hers, her words a balm to something that he didn’t even know.

“I brought you something.”

Before she could say anything, he plopped the Pirelli cap on her head, by now dry, though it had been drenched in champagne by Kimi and Seb and he adjusted it until it sat crookedly over her brown curls. “There. Perfect,” he said, his voice raw.

Perfect.

Colette laughed, patting it down, and then pulled him into another kiss. “I am so proud. You were incredible this weekend,” she told him fiercely. “Shouldn’t you still be celebrating?” she teased him.

“I am,” he said, his voice softening. “With you.”

Any celebration with her was better than any other.

“You want to see the trophy?” he asked her, feeling like a little boy that dragged his karting trophy to Colette for her approval again.

And just like she had suffered through every time of 12 year old Max showing his trophy off to her…18 year old Max did the same, handing it to her.

She took it, a metal on metal clink rattling around the inside.

“What’s...?” she started, tilting the trophy to look inside. Her breath caught, as she fished out the ring from the bottom of it. “Max...”

“It’s not an engagement ring,” he rushed to explain, his cheeks turning pink. “I mean, our fathers would probably kill us both if we got married right now. But it’s... it’s a promise.”

Colette carefully set the trophy down, her hands trembling as stared at the delicate gold ring in the palm of her hand.

“I wanted you to know that it’s always going to be us,” Max said, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. “Through everything. You and me. This is my promise to you.”

It was always going to be them. Always.

“I don’t need a fancy piece of paper to tell me what I already know,” Max said softly. “I love you. And I’ll spend the rest of my life with you. In Sickness and In Health and however that whole thing goes.”

Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him, her lips trembling with a smile. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

He grinned. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

Colette just looked at him, brown eyes warm and loving…and filled with tears.

“I do. God, I do,” she promised him fiercely. “Go on then. Put it on me,” she teased him.

His fingers were trembling when he picked up the ring and slid it on her finger. A perfect fit. Like he had somehow known.

“This is going to be hard to top one day, you know,” Colette told him, wiggling her fingers, the diamond sparkling on her hand. “You do have exceptional taste in rings.”

Max chuckled, pulling her into a hug. “Challenge accepted.”

December 2024:

The late December air was crisp as Max carefully carried the baby carrier through the front door of their apartment, his movements uncharacteristically slow. He was used to the precision of controlling a 200-mile-per-hour machine, but carrying his newborn daughter… was an entirely different level of responsibility.

Colette watched the whole thing with some amusement and a whole lot of love. Max had already driven so slowly home from the hospital that there had been multiple blaring car horns behind them, but Max hadn’t cared one bit about that.

She was tired, her body aching from the delivery, but her heart was so full it threatened to burst.

“Welcome home, ma lutine,” she murmured softly, brushing her fingers over the baby’s tiny hand, as Max set the carrier down on the living room floor.

Max crouched to unbuckle their daughter, who was snoozing peacefully despite the excitement of the day. “I think she’s already a Verstappen,” he said with a chuckle, glancing up at Colette. “Sleeps through the chaos, just like her dad.”

Colette laughed lightly, shaking her head. “We’ll see how long that lasts,” she teased him. “You gonna get the cats?” she asked.

Max nodded, moving towards the bedroom where he had put them just minutes before.

Colette heard the door open and seconds later, she could feel two sets of feline eyes were already watching from the bedroom doorway —Jimmy, usually, the more laid back boy…and Sassy, the fierce girl with a name that fit her personality far too well.

“Okay, guys,” Colette murmured. “Be nice. She’s your baby sister now.”

Max crossed back over to them, crouching down beside the seat, unbuckling Charlie with ease, his movements careful and deliberate. “You think they’ll be jealous?” he asked, casting a quick glance at Jimmy and Sassy, who hadn’t moved but were clearly observing every detail.

“They’ll get over it,” Colette said with a soft laugh. “I think Sassy’s already plotting her strategy.”

Sure enough, as soon as Colette lifted Charlie into her arms, Sassy bounded down the stairs, tail high and ears forward. She paused a few feet away, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air.

“Hi, Sassy,” Colette cooed, kneeling down to let the curious cat get a closer look. Sassy tiptoed forward, her tiny paws making no sound on the marble floor. She stopped just short of Colette’s knees and craned her neck, sniffing cautiously at the bundle in her arms.

Charlie let out a soft coo, her tiny fist waving in the air, and Sassy’s ears twitched forward in fascination. Then, in a move that made Colette’s heart melt, Sassy stretched up on her hind legs and gently tapped at the edge of the baby blanket, as if to say, What’s this?

“See? She’s already making friends,” Colette said, grinning as she stroked Sassy’s head.

Max, meanwhile, was coaxing Jimmy towards them. The cat was watching the scene with a skeptical look, his yellow eyes narrowed. “Come on, mate,” Max said, holding out his hand. “She’s not going to steal your spot. I promise.”

Jimmy hesitated for a moment before coming the last few steps. Unlike Sassy, who had no sense of personal space, Jimmy kept his distance at first, circling wide around Colette and Charlie as if evaluating whether this tiny human posed a threat to his kingdom.

“Jimmy, it’s okay,” Colette encouraged, holding out her hand toward him. “Come say hi.”

Eventually, Jimmy padded closer, his movements slow and deliberate. When he finally reached Colette, he sat down primly and stared up at Charlie, his expression one of cautious curiosity.

“She’s not so bad, right?” Max said, crouching down beside Jimmy and scratching behind his ears.

Charlie let out another soft noise, and Jimmy’s head tilted slightly, his ears swiveling to catch the sound. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he leaned forward and gave the edge of the baby blanket a tentative sniff, followed by a single, gentle nudge of his nose.

“Oh, Jimmy,” Colette said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re such a good boy.”

Max laughed, the sound warm and full of love. “I think they’ve decided she can stay,” he said, wrapping an arm around Colette’s shoulders.

Later that evening, after Charlie had been fed and settled into the bassinet they’d placed in the living room, Colette found herself staring at the collection of trophies they kept on the shelves over the TV. Max’s career was neatly cataloged there— All the important wins, each moment of triumph immortalized in gleaming metal and glass.

Charlie stirred softly in her arms, and Colette pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead before stepping closer to the shelves. “Do you see all these trophies, Charlie?” she whispered, swaying gently. “See? these are all Papa‘s,“ Colette cooed. “He has more. These are just the ones that are the most important to him. Your tonton Cha has some too…”

Her eyes slid over the championship trophy from last year…over to the very first one. It was a little scuffed from being handled so many times, but it still gleamed in the soft light of the room. “And this one…this one is extra special. This is from when Papa won his very first race. And do you know what else?” She smiled, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “This is where he hid a ring for me eight years ago.”

She glanced back at her daughter, but Charlie had already drifted back into her newborn sleep, oblivious to her mother’s musings.

“You didn’t check, did you?” Max’s voice broke the quiet, startling her.

She turned to find him leaning casually in the doorway, his arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face. He was still wearing the same hoodie and sweats he’d changed into after coming home from the hospital, but somehow, he looked effortlessly handsome.

“Check what?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“The trophy,” he said, nodding toward the one in her hand. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing it ever since we came home.”

Colette raised an eyebrow. “You tell a girl you hid her engagement ring in there, what did you expect, Verstappen,” she teased him.

“You are right,” Max agreed seriously, with a nod, plucking Charlie from her arms to put her in the Moses Basket they had put next to the couch.

And then he plucked that trophy from the shelve, only to upend it until a velvet box came tumbling down.

Colette’s breath caught as he flipped it open to reveal a stunning ring—a delicate gold band, not unlike the one he’d given her all those years ago, but this time, the diamond was much larger, more brilliant. It sparkled in the light, catching every angle perfectly.

Her free hand flew to her mouth as her eyes welled up with tears. “Max…”

“Shush. Let me do this right,” he teased her, as he got down on one knee. “I had this for months,” he told her. “I thought about giving it to you after the Monaco Grand Prix, then after the championship celebration, but none of those moments felt right. This—bringing Charlie home—this feels right.”

Colette could only nod, too overcome with emotion to speak.

“I know we’ve been doing things our own way,” he said with a small smile. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing. But this... this is my way of saying I’m all in, for the rest of my life. With you. With Charlie. With everything that comes next.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she finally found her voice. “You didn’t have to do this. You already gave me everything I ever wanted.”

“And now I’m giving you a little bit more,” he said seriously. “So. Colette Marie Eugénie Veronique Leclerc, will you do me the incredible honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Max reached for her left hand, his fingers brushing over hers as he carefully slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, just as she knew it would.

“You even got the order of my names right,” she teased him, as he stood up and he snorted as he pulled her into a hug.

“Hush,” he gave back, pressing a kiss to her temple.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the trophy forgotten on the shelf and the ring gleaming on her finger.

In the bassinet, Charlie let out a tiny squeak, and they both turned to look at her, their smiles growing.

“She approves,” Colette said with a laugh.

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Of course she does. She’s a Verstappen.”

As they sat down together, Colette resting her head against Max’s shoulder, they couldn’t help but marvel at the life they’d built.

It had been a long journey to get here, but every step had been worth it.

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scuderiahalf · 11 months ago

Text

wild child — daniel ricciardo

pairing. platonic!daniel ricciardo x verstappen!f1a driver!fem!reader

summary. your uncle has another thing coming if he thinks you’ll idly sit there and take whatever he throws at you. alternatively, the story of how jos verstappen got his shit rocked by a sixteen-year-old girl. 1.6k

warnings. description of injury, referenced physical violence, themes of domestic and child abuse, mention of jos verstappen

masterlist.

Daniel watched with a wary smile as you joked around with your Prema teammates across the way. Dino said something that had Ollie covering your ears while jokingly scolding the other boy. You elbowed Ollie in the side and pointed at Kimi, probably complaining that you were less than a year younger than the Italian.

You were acting completely normal. Everything seemed fine and normal and totally cool. You gave no hint that anything was out of the ordinary, that anything was wrong. You smiled just as you always did.

But Daniel couldn’t ignore the swelling of your cheek, the bruise under your eye, the split of your lip.

Prema’s statement about the state of your face had said that you had gotten into a physical altercation that you had not instigated and that the perpetrator had been dealt with as necessary. Daniel had a really bad feeling about who said perpetrator was.

The VCARB driver wet his lips. He had to say something. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t. You needed to know you had people you could go to. You needed to hear it spoken plainly. He needed to extend a hand, whether or not you took it.

This wasn’t something he could sit in regret with. Daniel already regretted never saying anything to Max, never asking the important questions back when Max had still been skinny and ruddy-faced.

Daniel still didn’t know the full story there. He’s sure if he did, he should never be allowed in a room with Jos Verstappen ever again.

Daniel hated to see history repeating itself. He hated seeing Jos look at you like he looked at Max, like you were some prized race horse purpose-bred to win. Like you could win the Formula One World Drivers’ Championship and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Daniel didn’t know everything about Max and his father but he knew how Max acted, knew how he thought of himself, knew how his childhood still affected him today.

Daniel didn’t want that for you. If he could help you in any way, he had to try.

He caught you in Red Bull hospitality later in the weekend, when you were separated from the other Prema kids and eating lunch while scrolling on your phone.

“Y/N/N!” he greeted you with false enthusiasm. “Can I sit with you?”

You just smiled amusedly. “Knock yourself out, Ric.”

You and Daniel had always gotten on.

Before you got serious about racing and moved to Holland to live with your uncle, Daniel had only heard mention of you as Max’s favorite cousin. Starting two years ago, you had been making more and more appearances in the paddock as your relocation to Europe had given Max easy access to take you on field trips to various Grand Prix.

You had been uncharacteristically funny for a fourteen-year-old. Not in a mean or sarcastic way but genuinely funny with jokes and stories always ready to go. Daniel had liked you from the first time you had met.

Now, you were sixteen and you looked so much older but when Daniel looked at you, all he could see was that scrawny fourteen-year-old kid who had to have ten kilos of lead welded to her seat to meet the karting weight requirement.

Every time he looked too hard at the cut on your lip or the persistent redness of your right cheek, he felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t imagine anyone ever wanting to hurt that funny, lovable little kid, or the young woman you were becoming who was still so full of life and humor.

“Daniel? You good? Do I have something on my face? Besides the obvious.”

Daniel forced out a laugh. “No. No, you’re fine. I was just wondering… How did you get that shiner?”

“Lost a fight with a revolving door. They’re vicious creatures, I tell ya.”

Daniel didn’t laugh. He barely managed a polite smile.

“Wow, tough crowd—yeah, it was Jos. I know that’s what you’re asking.”

You had always called your uncle that: Jos. Just Jos. Never Uncle Jos. Or Oom Jos, or however it would be said it in Dutch.

Your verbal detachment from your uncle didn’t make it any easier to stomach the thought of the man hitting you. Was this the first time? Had he done it before? How often? How severely? How had no one noticed?

“Y/N,” Daniel started, trying to approach the subject as gently as he originally planned, “You know you have so many people who care about you and would never want to see you kept in an unsafe environment? You have people you can turn to if you need help. Max, me, the people at Prema—“

“Did Max not tell you what happened? I figure he would have told you the story already. It’s pretty hilarious, in hindsight.”

What about this situation could ever be construed as hilarious? Daniel would admit he had a bad habit of making everything into a joke but this was a step too far, even for him.

“Y/N, I’m being serious. If Jos is hurting you, it has to be taken care of.”

“Believe me, I took care of it.”

Daniel just looked at you.

“Max really hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

“So, I made that post about pride month on the first, right? Just ‘happy pride month’ in the caption of my insta post? Well, Jos decided that he wouldn’t have that under his roof and when I called him a ‘homophobic wife beater,’ he slapped me. Backhanded me, actually.”

Daniel was still failing to find even the slightest bit of humor in your story.

“So, I beat the shit out of him.”

Daniel blinked. “You what.”

“I beat the—I don’t know how else you want me to say it.”

“I’m not understanding…”

“He put his hands on me, so I rocked his shit. Kicked him in the dick. Slammed his face into the kitchen counter and broke his nose. Probably bruised a rib or two.

“He’s at home nursing his pride, I’m pretty sure. I’ve been staying with Max in Monaco ever since. It’s a real ‘you should see the other guy’ situation.”

Daniel thought he was having an aneurysm. His brain couldn’t decide if he should continue to insist that you could leave your unsafe home life or if he wanted to feed into the inarguably hilarious mental images of Jos Verstappen getting beat up by a sixteen-year-old girl.

The internal battle must have shown on his face because you said, “You can laugh. It’s pretty funny.”

No. No, he needed to be an adult and not feed into your interpretation of the events being funny. It wasn’t funny that Jos raised a hand to you. It wasn’t funny that you had to defend yourself from a grown man you were meant to be able to trust.

But then Daniel couldn’t stop imagining a semi-cartoonish version of your uncle curled on the ground, blood pouring from his nose as you stand above him, laughing maniacally with a foot on Jos’ side like a big game hunter.

“It’s not funny,” he barely managed to get out before he started laughing along with the triumphant caricature of you in his mind.

The you that sat across from him grinned. “No, it is 100% funny. He obviously didn’t know anything about me whatsoever if he thought I’d just let him get away with that. He started that fight, and I ended it.”

Daniel just laughed harder. You grinned even wider.

“No—it’s not funny! I swear, it’s really not.” Daniel collected himself as best he could, tried to look at you seriously. “Y/N, you can’t keep living with him. He can’t keep managing you.”

“I know. Prema’s already worked it out. They’ve found me a new manager and I’m staying with Max; he’s helping set me up in an apartment in his building.

“My mom is furious. She had to be escorted out of the hospital when she flew in to talk to Jos. She might have broken his nose a second time. I don’t know. I wasn’t there, unfortunately. Jos isn’t allowed within a hundred meters of me until I’m 18.”

That guilty, worried part of Daniel that had started festering as soon as he had read Prema’s statement about your altercation finally laid itself to rest. Everything was handled. You were safe.

“Y/N, I—“

Daniel didn’t really know how to put into words just how relieved he was. He didn’t know how to say how much he cared about you, how glad he was that you had gotten out of what could have been a terrible situation.

“I know.”

Luckily, you understood. Daniel didn’t have to stumble over the words. That was another thing about you that Daniel adored: you were intuitive.

“I’m talking through it with my therapist. But I’ll be fine. I feel fine. I’m not going to let Jos ruin me before my career’s even really started. I’ve still got a season of F1 Academy to win.”

Daniel had a feeling you were telling him this not because you needed someone to talk to but because you knew it was what he needed to hear. Relief settled even further onto his shoulders.

“Spoken like a true Verstappen,” he joked.

“My last name is L/N.”

“You still belong to the Verstappen clan.”

You giggled. “I hail from House Verstappen.”

“Exactly. Just like Game of Thrones.”

You fall into easy laughter alongside Daniel.

You were laughing. Your bruises would fade and you would remain unchanged. You would race later that day and continue leading your championship just as your cousin led his.

Ultimately, you were undamaged. You were safe.

And you also had one hell of a story to write a memoir about in thirty years.

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specialgradefckr · 13 days ago

Text

Teacher's Pet

tw: explicit content. nerd!gojo, teacher!reader, teacher/student, power imbalance. gojo is a SLUT for older women and also a very very dumb teenage boy.

You have to admit - grading papers is more fun with your best and brightest student mouthing your cunt under your desk.

He's a needy thing, a whiner to the core. Humming needily against your clit until you pet his hair and nudge his throbbing bulge with the toe of your high-heeled shoe.

It's the hand in the hair that makes him moan, though. He clings to your thighs like he's dying, lavishing your clit in kitten licks.

Something tells you he's not getting enough attention at home, but he's a senior, not some middle schooler.

He's a big boy now, and big boys don't forget to calculate for air resistance in addition to friction along the ground.

You hadn't marked any other students off for that, but you knew he was different. Better.

You told him so to his face when he came to complain to you about it. Told him that he was better than that, he should act like it.

Satoru Gojo was smart enough to be halfway through a college degree already, and here he was goofing around in your high school physics class. You'd met masters students who couldn't apply formulae as consistently and accurately as him.

That was where it started, you think. It was honest, sincere. He was so quick on the update, so concise, so good with his calculations.

You didn't get many students like that. It would be nice to see him go further, use his brain, apply himself and learn for the sake of learning. Because he can. Satoru has something great in him, and you want to see it shine.

The look on his face... you hadn't forgotten it even after going home that day.

Something in him changed after that talk. A good change, at first; always raising his hand, writing out his answers more thoroughly, asking discussion questions.

His face would just light up when you accepted his answers. He drank in every ounce of praise, attention, and conversation you could offer. Stayed after class to discuss material, even started reading different books to talk to you about.

When he told you he wanted to major in physics, get his degree - just like you had - you thought you'd really done something. Changed his life.

It was every teacher's dream, making a difference like that. Being a teacher hadn't been your dream, but knowing that you'd changed the course of Satoru Gojo's life, even just a little... it was a nice thought.

You couldn't deny there was a bit of envy in you, of course. He just understood things so much faster than you ever did, took to it all right away, acted like it was elementary.

And then, of course, he's spectacularly handsome. Beautiful, even. You didn't miss the way the other students - even some other boys - fawned over him.

On one notable incident one such girl had pulled him out of your after-class discussions - "Please, it's important, aren't your already acing Physics?" - and... well, maybe it was a hit of realism for you.

Maybe you'd gotten ahead of yourself. You were just his teacher, after all. Even a teacher can only have so much influence on his life. There were so many other people who knew him, cared about him, spent much more time with him than you did.

In the story of Satoru Gojo, you were a footnote, at best. Just a teacher he had in high school, nothing more.

The beautiful young man left the room with the beautiful young woman, and there you were, sitting, grading papers.

That could have been you, once.

Maybe you could have dated a smart colleague your age when you were in college, instead of someone older, cooler, more adult -

Just man enough to marry you, take out a hundred loans, and skip town to leave you holding the bag.

You'd watched the closed door with a nostalgic sort of bitterness. Then again, maybe it was never in the cards for you. You didn't have any family, much less a rich, well-respected one like the Gojo.

You probably never would, at this rate. And why would you even want one? Kids, with your schedule, with your debt?

You know better, now, than to expect a man to stick around to raise them. Maybe that was your one stroke of luck, that you never had a child.

It wasn't worth it to get a boyfriend. It wasn't easy like it would be for him; people fell over themselves to get Satoru Gojo's attention, to have his eyes on them. Girls left notes in his lockers, guys sucked up to him, everyone wanted a piece.

You're missing pieces. Old and jaded. With broken dreams of a PhD and a mountain of debt as your company. Who'd want you?

All you have is your work, and the pittance you're paid for it. At least you're good at it.

There's a little less enthusiasm in your voice, after that. When you take Gojo's answers - if you call on him at all - or give him his test results.

It just seems so pointless. The wind is out of your sails, the memory of youthful optimism and joy diminished when you remember what you are.

A leftover. Used up and discarded.

You keep your after-school discussions brief but respectful. It's hard to encourage him. Satoru Gojo is destined for success no matter what he does. He certainly doesn't need your help.

But then something strange happens.

You give a pop quiz and Gojo gets a B. His perfect answers start to crack. He doesn't show his work, doesn't do anything more than the bare minimum.

He does, however, go to office hours. But he doesn't speak - he just stares.

Those icy blue eyes. Bright. Piercing. Demanding, as if he has questions.

As if you have any answers he doesn't already know. Frustrating, beautiful, clever boy, he doesn't need your help, doesn't need anything from you, so why is he here?

"Can I help you with something, Mister Gojo?" You remember asking.

You remember him saying that you could. Stalking up to your desk like he thought he was slick. Eying you carefully.

You don't remember how it went down after that. What he did, how he started it.

But you remember to lock the door every time he's in here with you. If Gojo doesn't do it himself.

Or Satoru, rather. He always begged you to call him that during your first extra credit session.

You still remember his eyes. All wide open and pleading. "Please, sensei! Isn't there anything I can do?"

The memory brings a chuckle bubbling up your throat. The feigned innocence, the clumsy attempt at seduction.

Fuck, but he was pretty. Still is. Prettiest eighteen year old you've ever seen. And tall. All pent up and horny all the time, but so cute about it, so needy.

And you're - maybe you're a bit lonely.

And god, it feels so good to be wanted again.

"What's so funny?" He whines, breath hot against your folds.

You tap down on his dick with the tip of your shoe, enough that he groans again, "Keep going. You haven't earned it yet."

That just makes him whine again, but he closes his lips in your clit, fingers tightening on your thighs, tongue pressing hard into the swollen bud, pulsing through your core.

You stay casual, focused on the papers. Even as you feel yourself tightening up - Satoru can feel it too, you think. He always paid such good attention.

At least, when you were the one teaching him.

"There," you murmur, grinding your shoe into the bulge in his pants, slipping down one hand to his hair, feathery white, "Just a little more..."

He makes a grunt and your mind fills in the indignant I know, as if he's insulted you think he doesn't.

Satoru knows how close you are, and he laves his tongue over your clit, hard strokes, fast, enough to have you biting your lip as you tilt your head back, giving away as little as possible before -

"Ah," Light, airy, a sudden heat flits through you, rising up to your cheeks as release blooms between your legs.

You sigh a little bit, loosening your grip in his hair. When did it get so tight?

When you pull your foot away from his crotch, it's still noticeably hard.

"Hey," He looks up at you with big blue eyes. Wet, pink lips. Pleading face wet with your cum. "Can I come to your place?"

"That's not quite appropriate between a teacher and student," You drawl, giving his head a fond stroke.

Satoru's pretty white lashes flutter lightly at the touch, and he shivers just a little. Like he can't help himself.

"Pleeeeeaasse?" He whines, pressing himself up against you, "I'll be good. I'm so good. Aren't I? Come on, I did good!"

Your lips quirk to the side, as if in contemplation. Sure, he did well, but Satoru's always the cutest, the most obedient, the easiest when he feels like he's got something to prove.

"Half points," You say, packing up your papers, "You could have done better."

Not I've had better, or it could be better, or even I'm disappointed. No, you had to tell him you believed in him... and that he fell just short.

That's what lights up the look in his eyes, sends a wild insistence surging through him.

"Wait!" His hand wraps around your wrist as you stand up to leave, "I'll do it, I'll do better. Let me come with and you'll see."

Satoru looks so silly like this. On his hands and knees, half-crawled out from under your desk, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

But you're too old for this, for him. You know what happens next.

You take in strays, you get bit.

"I'll see you next time, Mister Gojo," You tell him with a smooth smile, and he withers at the use of his name, "Please try harder next time."

"But you ca-"

"On the next quiz, Mister Gojo," You speak over him with the firm, stern voice that always has him straightening his shoulders.

Poor thing. His dick is probably throbbing in his pants, if he hasn't cum in them already.

You close the door behind you when you leave, Satoru stuck behind you in the room.

You don't look back.

He's sulking, the next time you see him. It's adorable.

You watch him, elbow propped up on his desk, resting his chin on his hand while he stares out the window with a stubborn scowl on his face.

Precious. Look at those chubby, puffed-up cheeks. You could almost take a bite out of him.

"Mister Gojo..." You say, and he doesn't turn his head, "Mister Gojo."

Loud enough that the entire class turns to him, staring. Satoru takes a long moment pursing his lips and looking up at you wordlessly.

With an elegant, unbothered smile, you say, "Just checking to see if you were still with us, Mister Gojo. Now, as I was saying, the wave-particle duality can also be applied to matter, and in fact even subatomic particles can be demonstrated to behave like waves. This is important because..."

Approaching his table as you trail off, you look at him, brow raised in expectation, and Satoru looks away, silent.

"Care to fill us in, Mister Gojo?" You prod. Does he hate being called Mister Gojo that much?

"Nope," Satoru says, popping the p.

You have to hold back a laugh. "I see. Well, don't feel too bad, Mister Gojo," You say as you stride past his chair back up to the front, "It is an advanced topic. A high schooler like you wouldn't be expected to know that sort of thing."

That rankles, you can tell - "Because in quantum mechanics-"

"Moving on!" You speak over him, turning to the board and pulling down a screen.

The class shuffles as you lead them into the next lesson. Satoru is prickly, annoyed, his leg bouncing with errant energy the whole time it goes on.

He stands up after class, ready to walk up and speak to you, but you're quicker, already on your way out.

"Hey," He calls after you - never subtle, that one.

Once again, you don't stop. Maybe a few more days and he'll cool down.

It's something that looms in the back of your mind as you go about your day, teach your other classes, head back home.

This little stint with Satoru isn't going to last, after all. Really, you should be a lot more worried, since he's a student, and you're a teacher, but he's an adult so it's not like you'd face criminal charges.

You could be fired, but with how hard up schools were for physics teachers, you'd find a new position somewhere.

But Satoru isn't stupid. And you're discreet. It's not like you've done that much with him anyways.

It's fun, you can admit. A little bit of that energy from your youth, the joy of being wanted and chased and having a good-looking boy fall over himself for your attention.

Happier times. A better life. But those times are long gone, you're painfully aware.

You come home to a dingy studio apartment, with no more furniture than a bed and an end table. It's ramen again, tonight, and then scrolling on your phone in bed until you fall asleep. Maybe read some books you'd picked up from the library.

Just like you do every day. You have no friends left after your life went to shit. You wouldn't want anyone to see you living like this anyways.

It's cold, because you can't afford to pay much for heat, and you have to lock and deadbolt the door in case the loan sharks come by in the middle of the night again.

A reminder. Nothing good can last. You could pour all your heart into a man, all the encouragement and attention into your students, and you're still here, at the end of the day.

All you could do was enjoy what you had while it lasted. You could like Satoru, you could love him, even, but he'd never love you.

Couldn't even blame him. You didn't, either.

The next time Satoru catches you during office hours, he's well and truly desperate. Eyes wide and searching, frantic, door slamming and locking behind him as he stalked towards you.

"You're ignoring me."

"I rather think you've been ignoring me, Mister Gojo," You say, brandishing the formality like a shield, "Which is wholly inappropriate, considering I'm your teacher."

"Do you even like me?" He whines, leaning onto your desk, slipping his shades down to look you in the eyes, "You never want to hang out."

"Probably because I'm your teacher," The amusement in your tone is palpable, "I don't care to hang out around teenagers."

"Don't be like that!" Satoru leans in closer to you, "I know I get you off!"

You give him a sharp look. "Lower your voice. Satoru."

He stiffens up at that, avoiding your gaze, looking utterly scolded. Honey and vinegar, as the saying goes.

And maybe you do feel a little bit bad for him. He looks so morose, sometimes, listless. He is, after all, just a teenager who wants to be seen.

You slide your chair back in your desk, and it's a testament to your time together that Satoru immediately crouches to get underneath and between your legs.

You can't help a laugh, patting his head as he closes the distance, parting your thighs.

"Not today, sweet boy," You coo, sliding back even further.

Satoru's gaze is equal parts excitement and apprehension; he doesn't let go of your thighs. "What are we gonna do?"

You pull out a seat next to you. "Grade homework. It's time you put that brain to use."

The groan he makes is utterly hilarious. You laugh out loud, tugging him up by the hand, which he refuses to let go even when you shake it.

"I don't wanna," even as he speaks, he sits himself awkwardly in the chair next to you, scooting it closer, until you're touching, "Let's do something fun. I do all this stuff in class already."

"No you don't. You pout like a baby and refuse to engage with the material. It's very cute, but I know you're better than that, Satoru."

The redness on his cheeks brings a warm feeling to your chest.

"I could have answered it. You know that."

"I do," and you don't miss how his chest puffs up at that, either, "But I also know that you're my good boy, and good boys don't ignore their teachers. You can make it up to me, right?"

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "...Yeah."

"That's what I thought," You say warmly, watching him get to work, "And with both of us doing this, it'll go twice as fast."

"I'm failing everyone," Satoru grumbles, and you giggle - this makes the tips of his ears red.

He grades the papers accurately, so you let his little comment pass.

But you don't start grading papers. Instead, your hand makes its way down to his thigh, making him tense up.

"What are you - "

"Be good for me, Satoru," You say, catching his bright-blue gaze in a piercing stare, "You can do that, right? You're such a smart young man. Focus. Don't move."

You can see the realization course through him (your clever boy) as your hand inches towards his cock. His adam's apple bobs as his eyes flick back to his papers.

"The faster you finish grading, the faster you finish. But I'm checking your work as you go," leaning in closer, "One mistake, and I stop."

"Do you think you can do it for me, Satoru?" You purr into his ear as you slip under his jeans to grasp him - he gasps. "Or is that too hard for you?"

You're pretty sure he's never been harder.

"Of course I can," Satoru's voice is impressively smooth, "You better get going. I've already started."

A grin creeps up your face. So he thinks he can last that long?

Running your hands around his dick, feeling it; there's already cum pearling up at the tip.

"I see you have," You say, casually leaning shoulder-to-shoulder as you look over the papers he's grading, "But so have I, no?"

Whatever he's about to say gets cut off by a sharp grunt that wilts into a moan as you squeeze him at the tip, rubbing your thumb over his head. Stroking, you coax his precum along his length.

Next to you, his body strains with the effort of containing himself. You watch him mark the papers with efficiency you've never seen in all your years teaching. What a good boy, indeed.

So cute. His pretty face tightened in concentration, eyes gleaming with desire, with that boyish glee in his own talent that Satoru wears so well.

Forget taking a bite out of him. You want to eat him up.

It doesn't help that he's throbbing, twitching in your hands. Satoru is long, too - pretty, you think, when you glance at it - and it sends a flash of heat down your core.

"Distracted by something?" There's an unmistakable pride in his voice, even though his whole body is half trembling at your touch.

His cock is practically jumping in your hand.

Half-scoffing, half-chuckling, you place a kick on his cheek - his cock spurts just a little bit at it, and you have to bite back a cackle.

"Of course not," You coo, "I thought long and hard to come up with a test that could actually challenge you. My best student."

Long strokes, now, combined with praise that has his dick jumping again, a full-body reaction of energy coursing through him.

"But I know you can do it," Leaning in, you lay a kiss against his neck, nuzzling into there affectionately, "You're such a clever boy. You can do it, right?"

His hips jerk, twitching, along with the sharp scrawl of the pen in his hands. No mistakes, not yet. And so close -

He says your name, then. "Sensei," when you refuse to answer to it.

You squeeze him harder, like you can hold onto him if you just clench tightly enough. Like his little pants and whimpers of your name mean anything more than that he's close.

Like just having him like this, in your hands, at your mercy, makes him yours.

Warm, wet, hot and spurting out - "No - no, no not yet- fuck - fuck," he half-heaves in a sound torn between anguish and ecstasy.

His arms freeze up at his sides, and he shivers, choking on a sob before he melts into the chair. All over your hand. Face flushed red hot with bliss.

White lashes flutter over his eyes, blue and blown wide in pleasure. His pretty mouth hanging open, panting.

There's one paper left.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," You tut as you pull your hand away, wiping it off on his shirt, "And you were so close to finishing, too. I guess there are some things even my best student isn't capable of."

"Come ooooonnnn. You totally did that on purpose." Satoru slumps in your direction, still boneless. Face full of that boyish charm.

Still touch-hungry, even now, like a cat butting its head into your hand.

You snicker, even though you oblige him with a gentle hand in his hair, "Oh? I didn't know you wanted me to go easy on you."

Satoru leans over, into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you, "Don't be like that, sensei~ I'll make it up to you."

And that gets a giggle out of you. Because he's cute, he's flirty, and maybe you get just a little wet at the thought of what his well-trained mouth can do.

He positively preens at the sound, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, holding you close.

Soft lips tickle at your throat. Then teeth -

You shove him away, gathering yourself in a moment and standing up.

"What-"

"Make it up to me? That's a reward for you. I don't reward failure." You say. It's meant to be teasing, but it comes out colder, harder than you mean it.

There's panic in his eyes as he looks up at you. Bright, blinding.

"What, you're gonna leave? Just like that? You can't be serious," He stands up himself, grabbing you by the upper arm, "Just stay. I won't even ask to go home with you this time!"

"That's enough, Mister Gojo," you say, shoving his arm off, striding towards the door.

"Don't leave," The words are low, mournful, "Just tell me what you want me to do, I'll do it! Don't leave me!"

This time, you do look back. Satoru stands there, looking after you, forelorn like some kind of kicked puppy.

That's just how it is, though. It's what he gets for loving someone older, unworthy of him. He should know better than to want a woman nearly twice his age.

In a way, you're doing him a favor. Making sure he doesn't end up like you did.

When he finally gives his heart to someone, it should be -

You slam the door behind you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x yn #gojo x you #x reader #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #lemon #teacher x student #tw: age gap #older!reader #older woman x younger man #reader has ISSUES

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blueberrymocha · 18 days ago

Text

their type .ᐟ ๑ 𖤓⋆˚࿔

┌──────────────────────────────────────┐

ׂ╰┈➤ fluff (short)

➣ characters: gon, killua, kurapika, leorio, hisoka, illumi, chrollo

➣ a/n: so i stumbled upon some posts that seem to have taken HEAVY inspo from my own 😭 get that bag i guess

└──────────────────────┘

G.F

- he loves people who are carefree and wild

- uptight people tend to make him feel like he has to be guarded all the time

- someone who’s not afraid to go with the flow would really appeal to him

- while he can appreciate calmer friends, a s/o would ideally be more energetic

- additionally, they’d have to be adventurous and open minded

- he loves to spend time in nature or exploring, so if his partner didn’t share those interests, he’d get bored

K.Z

- after a lifetime of manipulation and abuse, it’s only natural he desires the exact opposite

- he’s drawn to softer, almost weak people

- the kind that wouldn’t make him worry if they were using him

- if they’re not like that, it’s not a dealbreaker, as long as it’s clear you’re not that kind of person (eg. you have a strong moral compass)

- but he’s also a big show-off and would enjoy impressing his s/o

- someone who’s of his skill level is more so competition to him than anything, thus his preferences

K.K

- this man has one of the most stressful lives out there

- so when he comes home to his s/o, he doesn’t want to be met with attitude, interrogation, or complaining

- his biggest traits are patience and understanding

- bonus points if they’re observant, because he tends to be emotionally constipated

- not saying he can’t communicate, but there’s a lot he doesn’t want to talk about

- so if you can deduct those things yourself, he’d be very appreciative

L.P

- he’d want to be with someone who can easily carry conversations or have a good drink with him

- someone outgoing and bold would totally catch his eye, especially if they can match his level of extroversion

- it’s also fine if they can balance his impulsivity out by being on the rational side,

- and in a way, he’d have a lot of respect for someone who thinks things through before they act

- even if it gets on his nerves a little when you counter him

- his biggest trait is gregariousness

H.M

- he wants someone he can toy with

- there’s a few ways you can meet that standard

- the first is by reciprocating; playful people who can match his energy are more desirable to him

- the second is by tolerating; he’s used to people acting coldly and tired of his antics, in fact, he finds it incredibly amusing

- the important part is that you respond to his stunts in some way, not just brushing him off or getting offended

- of course, above all his biggest trait is strength (he wouldn’t even look your way of you were weak)

I.Z

- he genuinely doesn’t have a type

- if you managed to catch his attention, it wasn’t because you had the perfect formula of personality traits

- it was more likely a culmination of physical attractiveness and experiences with you

- physically speaking, he loves a clean/groomed look

- someone who’s high maintenance: loving self care, getting hair cuts, their nails done, etc is not at all a turn off for him

- in fact, he loves these kinds of people, valuing the way someone presents themselves

C.L

- he loves philosophy and psychology, and if he met someone who was also interested in these, he’d instantly click with them

- his biggest trait is intelligence

- if you’re not extraordinarily smart, but otherwise knowledgeable or skilled at something, that would work too

- he wants to be able to have deep conversations, for you to be able to teach and show him new perspectives

- so if you’re ditzy or simple, he’s not interested

#hxh x reader #hxh hcs #hxh headcanons #hxh imagines #hxh fanfic #killua x reader #leorio x reader #gon x reader #chrollo x reader #illumi x reader #kurapika x reader #hisoka x reader

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badkitty3000 · 10 months ago

Text

Breaking The Rules

Five x Plus Size Female Reader, Words: 8,159, One-shot

Warnings: Smut, slight Daddy kink

So I received a very lovely request from someone I won't name, but they asked for something very specific:

"There aren't that many Five x plus size reader fics, And I think that should be changed"

I immediately jumped on this idea, because yes, this does need to change. Body representation is very important. I fully admit that I normally write Five with petite women, and that's usually because he's not a huge guy himself, so I tend to make them smaller. That's kind of the standard formula I suppose: bigger guy, smaller girl? But it doesn't have to always be that way. Everyone should be represented in a positive way.

Anyway, I have tried my best to fulfill this request and hopefully I do it justice. 😽❤️☂️

You had just been transferred from Records to Case Management. It was a pretty big promotion, but you had worked hard for it and deserved it. You were excited to be out of the stuffy records room and into the main population of employees since you were by nature a very social person. At one point you had thought about training for an agent position, but decided against it. Even though that’s really what you dreamed of doing. Instead, you figured vying for an executive position would be the best route, but that would take a few more years in the machine.

Part of your job was taking the data that you put together and assigning a particular agent to the case. You were good at solving puzzles, which is why you were put in this department to begin with, but you were also very good at reading people. You loved getting to know new people and their personalities, and what made them tick. People in general were fascinating to you, and the Commission had plenty of personalities.

As usual, you had no problem fitting in with your new coworkers. You had some sort of energy or charisma that drew others in. Maybe it was your infectious laugh, or your inappropriate sense of humor. Or just that way that you had of putting everyone around you at ease. Whatever it was, it was a source of pride for you. You liked being the one people gravitated to.

There was one person that did not seem as smitten with you as everyone else, and that was Number Five Hargreeves. You knew of him, of course. Everyone did. He was a legend among legends and there was a reason for that. You hadn’t been there the first time around, when he was fresh out of the Apocalypse, but when he came back years later as a younger version of himself, it was all anyone could talk about.

Five had a reputation for being aloof and if you caught him on the wrong day, he’d cut you down with some biting insult that was just as powerful as any physical harm he could do. He was smart, agile, and brutally honest. He was also hot as hell.

There seemed to be no end to the line of women that would purposefully parade past him on a daily basis. You couldn’t blame them, though. You’d caught yourself staring a few times, as you watched him read over a file with that serious expression of his, before he nodded a curt thank you and disappeared in a flash of blue. But you weren’t really that interested in him and you knew for a fact that he didn’t date inside the office. You admired that about him, actually, because neither did you.

Just because he wasn’t sleeping around the Commission, however, didn’t mean he wasn’t getting some action elsewhere. When you work for an organization that can see anything and everyone across all timelines and at any point in time…well, rumors are bound to start spreading. And you had heard a lot of them.

As with all rumors, it was hard to determine how much of it was true, but you could at least believe what you heard about his usual taste in women. Petite, thin, perky boobs, a flat stomach, and a small, tight ass. The guys at the switchboard loved to give descriptions of Five’s latest conquests, and they all sounded about the same. But hey, good for him, everyone has a type.

So, even if you were somehow interested in him from a romantic standpoint, you wouldn’t have made the cut anyway. You didn’t fit that stereotypical mold of those other women with your wide hips, slightly bigger breasts and butt, and a stomach that had never been flat. You doubted his usual dates had stretch marks on their thighs and hips, or even a small amount of cellulite on their ass. Not that you cared. Everyone’s bodies were different, after all.

Being a bigger sized woman didn’t bother you. You were confident in your body and made no apologies about it. Just because you couldn’t fit into the size negative two jeans that were constantly shoved in your face on every clothing store mannequin, didn’t mean you weren’t going to wear what you wanted. Short skirts, tight blouses that hugged your chest, or low cut, strappy dresses. If you liked it and it fit, who the fuck cared what anyone else thought? You liked yourself and your body, and if someone else didn’t, then that was their problem.

You liked sex, too, and you had no problems in that department either. You’d had many boyfriends, and a few one-night stands. Currently, you were unattached, but that was ok. There would be another man along at some point and you weren’t going to settle for someone you didn’t like. In the meantime, you’d ogle the eye candy at work.

It was a typical day when you had your first real interaction with Five. Sitting in the breakroom with your lunch, laughing loudly with your coworkers, the room suddenly became very quiet. You looked over to see Five strolling casually in, heading for the coffee station. He didn’t speak to anyone, or really even look in their direction, but there were nervous glances all around. One by one, your friends quietly made some excuse and got up to leave. Eventually, it was just you left at the table.

“Aren’t you going to flee in terror with the rest of them?”

You looked up, surprised to see that he was actually talking to you. You pointed to your salad in front of you. “I’m still eating. And you don’t really scare me, sorry.”

Five looked thoughtful for a second and you saw the glimmer of a smile before he took another sip of coffee.

“Nice work on the Edinburgh case, by the way.”

You nodded. “Thanks. I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

Five shrugged. “I pay attention. Especially when I see real talent.”

You frowned. “So, you’re stalking me, is that what you’re telling me?”

Five almost choked on his coffee. “What? No! Why would you…”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Thank you, though. I appreciate the compliment.”

“Oh,” Five said, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.” Then he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to finish your meal.”

“You don’t have to go, you know,” you said as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back at you and you gestured to one of the empty seats. “It’s ok to relax sometimes. Maybe be social? And I don’t bite…at least not without prior consent,” you added with a wink.

Five stood there for a few seconds in thought, and you figured he was conjuring up some perfectly crafted insult for you. Instead, you saw his mouth twitch up at the corner and he gestured to you with his coffee cup.

“Well, that is very good to know. Consent is always important.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

A few days later you were standing with your friends in the hallway at the end of the workday, talking about the upcoming Commission pickleball tournament you were all playing in. One of your best players had been injured on a job and now you were down a body. As you were discussing options, you saw Five walking in your direction.

“Hey, Hargreeves!” you yelled. “You up for some pickleball?”

Five stopped in his tracks and actually looked around, as if there could be another Hargreeves standing right behind him. Then he looked back at you, thoroughly confused.

“What the hell are you doing?” whispered one of your friends.

“What?” you replied. “The guy’s like a hundred years old, he probably fucking loves pickleball.” You turned back to Five. “We need another player, you game?”

Still rooted to the spot, Five shook his head slowly. “Thanks for the invite. But I’ll have to decline.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from the rest of your group. You rolled your eyes. “Come on! It’ll be fun. You know what fun is, don’t you?”

Five narrowed his eyes, but you could see there was no bite to it. “Yes, I know what fun is.”

“Well, I promise this will be all sorts of fun.” You gave him a big smile. “And as a bonus, you’ll get to watch me run around in a short skirt.”

Your friend next to you slapped you on the arm. “What is wrong with you?” they hissed.

Five actually smiled for a second, you were sure of it. “Tempting, but again, I have to decline.” Then he continued on his way down the hall.

Over the next few weeks, you made it your personal mission to try and get Five to loosen up. Whether you personally delivered case files to him just as an excuse to talk to him, or purposefully followed him into the breakroom, you wouldn’t leave him alone until you got him to at least smile at something you said. After a while, you noticed he was much more relaxed around you. Eventually, you and he were officially friends, much to the amazement of everyone else around you. He even started seeking you out on his downtime.

“Hey there, handsome,” you joked as Five strode up to your desk one day. “Something I can do for you, or did you just miss me?”

“You know, I could report you to human resources for sexual harassment,” he said as he perched on the edge of your desk, folding his arms across his chest with a smile. He had a standard manilla file folder in one hand.

“It’s only harassment if you don’t like it,” you replied, pointing a pen at him.

“I’m not sure that’s accurate.”

“Sure it is,” you said as you jabbed him in the arm with the pen, laughing when he frowned and rubbed at the area. “But seriously, did you need something?”

“Maybe. I just wanted to run this by you.” He slapped the case file on your desk.

“What is it?”

“A case I was assigned to. I read it over though, and I don’t think it’s right. I wanted your opinion.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Me? The legendary Mr. Five wants my lowly opinion?”

“Just shut up and read the fucking file.”

With a laugh, you opened it and started reading. He watched you, rather intently you noticed, while you read. You frowned and shook your head, pointing at a paragraph. “Right here, this isn’t true. The clockmaker didn’t take a carriage to work that day. He walked.”

Five nodded. “That makes this whole case pointless, then. I’d be targeting the wrong person.”

“Shit, you’re right.” You looked up at him. “Good catch.”

“It looked off somehow, but I couldn’t figure it out. I knew you would, though.”

Normally you’d say something snarky to bust his balls, but he was being truly sincere and his compliment meant a lot to you. “Thanks, Five.”

He shrugged and grabbed the file off your desk. “Alright, see you later.”

As he turned around to leave, you couldn’t help yourself. “Hey, Five?”

He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away.”

Five shook his head while you cackled at your own joke. “Can’t even make it ten seconds without treating me like a piece of meat. You’re hopeless.”

The following day, you were in the breakroom getting some coffee when you overheard a conversation by some of your coworkers.

“…yeah, I heard it’s not good. Took a shot right to the chest.”

“I heard it was a head shot; that he’s barely alive.”

“No way, I don’t believe it. Not him.”

You turned toward the group, coffee cup in hand. “Who are you talking about?”

“You haven’t heard? Your buddy was shot up pretty bad today.”

You frowned, lowering your cup. “Who, Five?”

“Yeah. I only heard bits and pieces so far, but it doesn’t sound great. They brought him directly to the infirmary when he came back. There was a trail of blood in the hall and everything.”

“What?” you cried, slamming your cup on the counter. “That can’t be.”

Your friend shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”

“Shit,” you hissed, before running out of the room.

You didn’t slow down the entire way to the infirmary, dodging people in the halls, and almost knocking a few of them over in the process. How could Five be hurt? And why was just the thought making you sick to your stomach?

You burst into the infirmary just in time to see several nurses scurrying away, and a very angry and bloodied Five sitting up in one of the hospital beds.

“God damnit, if you touch me one more time, I swear to god, I will strangle you with my IV line!”

“Oh my god, Five!” Without even thinking about it, you rushed up to him and threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly to you. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”

His body stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and put his arms around you in return. You heard him laugh and you pulled away.

“I bet you’d like that. Then you’d finally be able to molest me without me fighting back.”

You realized a few tears had slipped down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped them away. You gave him a half-smile. “You wish.” Then you looked him over, noticing the blood on his head and the IV in his arm. “Are you ok? What happened?”

He sighed. “Nothing, just a minor mishap. I’m fine.” He spoke louder and in the general direction of the nursing staff. “But these jack-holes won’t let me leave!”

You huffed out a laugh. “I can see you’re fine by your usual lovely attitude. You should hear the rumors going around about you, though. Pretty impressive.”

“Good. I need to keep up appearances.”

When you sat down on the side of the bed, you took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re ok, really. I got really scared there for a minute.”

Five smiled shyly at you and gave you a squeeze back. “I’m glad someone here was worried about me.”

You tilted your head to the side and brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead and tried to wipe away a smudge of blood. “I doubt I’m the only one.”

“I think you are,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes.

You averted your eyes for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Maybe just one thing.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

He grinned. “Go on a date with me.”

You weren’t sure you heard him correctly. “Did they check you for a concussion because I thought you just asked me out on a date.”

“I did. And no, I am not concussed.”

“Five…” you started, blinking in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you mean like a date date?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Yes, like a date date. Why is this so hard to believe?”

“Uh, well…because we’re friends. Also, I’m not really your type.”

His eyebrows creased together. “You’re not? You’re funny, smart, and sexy. Not to mention you flirt with me every chance you get. What’s not to like?”

“I do not flirt with you.” You smiled when you saw his incredulous expression. “Ok, yeah, I do. But that was just having fun and trying to make you laugh. I didn’t think you’d be into me.”

“Why not?”

“Ok, how do I put this? I have heard all about your little conquests and I know you have a running theme. Skinny, tiny, Barbie dolls that probably have never eaten a sandwich before. And not that there’s anything wrong with that. Everyone has a type and that’s ok. Hell, normally I prefer blond guys, but…”

“Normally?” he cut in.

You blushed. “Well, I do make some exceptions for certain grouchy, dark-haired men.”

Five nodded with a smile. “So then go out with me. I promise the only type I have is the type that I happen to be attracted to. And don’t believe everything you hear around here. Remember,” he pointed to the small abrasion on his head, “I was almost dead a couple of minutes ago.”

Hesitating, you shook your head. “I don’t date anyone from work.”

“Good. Me either,” he said, still grinning.

You laughed. “Alright, then, you wore me down. It’s a date. But only if you promise to stay here for at least another hour without verbally or physically abusing these poor health care workers. It’s not their fault you’re an asshole.”

“Fine, I’ll stay, but only because I want to go out with you.” He raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. “Not because I need to be treated like a child who fell off their tricycle!”

The next Saturday, you and Five went on your date. When he saw your outfit, he was speechless for a few seconds. He was used to seeing you in your work clothes, which was always the same boring gray pants suit, but now he got to see you in your preferred style. A form-fitting, teal blue dress that stopped halfway down your thighs and had a keyhole neckline to show off a bit of cleavage. You paired it with some gold jewelry and black, strappy heels. You laughed at his face when he saw you.

“You look…” he stammered. “That dress…just wow.”

“Thank you.” You looked him up and down, liking the way his tailored pants fit his lean body just right and his casual button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves accentuated his sculpted chest. You had never really noticed how strong he looked. “You look really good, too. Much better than the stuffy suits.”

“Agreed,” he said distractedly as he continued to stare at your chest.

“Excuse me, but my eyes are up here,” you joked, pointing to your face.

He looked up briefly, then back down at your body. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to your eyes in a minute.”

“Wow, I had no idea you were such a pervert.”

He looked up at you with a devious smile. “Oh, yeah, huge pervert. I’m surprised you never picked up on that.” He laughed along with you and then offered his arm for you to loop yours through. “Shall we?”

At dinner, the conversation came easily. It was nice to be able to chat without having to cut it short due to work. Your stories were much duller than his, obviously, but he still seemed genuinely interested in anything you had to say. You made him laugh with your sarcastic comments and you loved knowing you were just about the only one that could crack that veneer of his. Over dessert, you finally worked up enough nerve to ask him what you really wanted to know.

“So, how come you’ve only dated thin girls before?”

Five looked surprised and he shook his head. “I haven’t only dated thin girls.”

You cocked your head to the side and raised your eyebrows. “Really?”

He coughed, embarrassed. “Ok, fine, that’s true. But it wasn’t a conscious decision. Like I said, I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to.” He paused. “But…”

“But what?”

“But what I am most attracted to is confidence. I like a woman that is sure of herself and assertive. A woman that knows what she wants.” He looked guilty for a second. “Usually, at least in my experience, those are the women that happen to fit into the societal standards of beauty. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, though. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not a bad thing. I was just curious.” You hesitated, not sure you wanted to keep pressing him for information. “What was it that attracted you to me, then?”

He looked surprised again and then he laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never met anyone as confident and self-assured as you. Plus, you’re funny and easy to be around. And almost as smart as I am.”

“As modest as always.”

“I’m just kidding,” he said with a smile. “You’re incredibly smart, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who wasn’t. And…” He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. You felt a warm, tingling sensation ripple through your body. “You are also incredibly sexy with your shameless flirting.”

“Well, I’m glad you noticed,” you said, taking your finger and brushing it over his. “And just in case you didn’t know, you are also incredibly sexy.”

“I did not know that.”

“Oh yeah. I made a lot of enemies once word got out that I was going on a date with you. Lots of jealous women back at headquarters right now.”

“Is that so? Can I get a list of those women, just in case this date goes bad?”

Taking your foot, you dragged it up his calf, all while looking him in the eye with one eyebrow raised suggestively. “I don’t think it’s going to go bad, do you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t now.” You saw him swallow hard and shift in his seat. “How about we get the check?”

When you got back to your place, you were almost falling through the door as you struggled to get inside while aggressively making out. Neither of you had even made it out of the car before you started groping one another, so that by the time you had made it home, you were both on fire.

“You know,” you mumbled between frantic kisses as Five slammed the door closed behind him with his foot. “I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

“Me either,” he said as he grabbed you around the waist to pull you in closer, kissing you along your jaw.

“Ok, I lied. Yes, I do,” you exhaled breathily as your hands wound into his hair and he moved his mouth to your neck.

“Good, because I lied too,” he said, stopping to look at you with a sly grin.

After letting out a short laugh, you were back on his mouth again, breathing hard through your nose and pressing your body against his. You could feel his arousal building as he pushed his groin into your hip. Your hands fumbled as you started to unbutton his shirt.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” he breathed against your neck. “I want you out of this dress.”

As you finished undoing the last button and pulling his shirt out of his pants, you nodded. “Yeah, good idea.” When you reached down to pull at the strap of your shoe, he put a hand on yours to stop you. When you looked up, he shook his head.

“I said the dress. The shoes stay on.”

Well, if you hadn’t been wet before, you were now. The tone of his voice and the seriousness of his face only added to the hotness factor and at that point you would have followed almost any demand he made of you. Leaving the shoes on, you pulled the dress over your head while he watched. Even though you hadn’t really been anticipating your date progressing this far, you had still prepared with a pair of satin panties and lace bra that matched the same jewel tone as the dress you dropped onto the floor.

Five didn’t say anything, just eyed you up and massaged the back of his neck. Then he let out a long, shaky exhale.

“Are you ok?” you asked, suddenly a little concerned he might not be liking what he saw.

Five nodded, his gaze not leaving your breasts. “Yeah, just give me a second. I’m trying not to come in my pants.”

Your astonished laugh was quickly cut off when you found yourself pinned against the wall on the other side of the room, the fluttery sensation of one of Five’s spatial jumps lingering in your stomach. Your squeak of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, as he pushed hard against you, his hands on your tits.

When he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip, you moaned and closed your eyes, jerking your hips into him. Your hands found their way to his hard chest and muscular arms, feeling them tighten and relax with each movement. He let you tug his shirt the rest of the way off and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pressed his face into the side of your neck and lifted one of your legs up to his waist. His hard cock was grinding into you as you drew in a ragged breath. When you felt his lips against your skin and his warm breath as he brushed his mouth over your neck, you let out a loud whine.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Let Daddy hear you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and holding you tightly to him.

“Woah…Daddy?” you breathed out.

Five nodded, moving to the other side of your neck. “Is that ok?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy,” you moaned, running your hands greedily down his back.

You felt him smile against you and his kisses turned into small nips that he trailed down your neck and onto your shoulder.

“I want you. I can’t wait,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

“The bedroom is in there,” you said, pointing to the room just on the other side of the wall.

Five let your leg down and you pulled him by the hand into your bedroom, falling onto the bed and propping yourself on your elbows as Five stood there staring again.

“Well, come on, Daddy,” you teased. “I thought you couldn’t wait.”

A slow smile spread across Five’s face as he immediately started to undress the rest of the way, until he was crawling over you, completely naked. He rubbed his cock against your inner thigh, making a quiet growling noise in his throat before looking you in the eye.

“As much as I love this little bra and panty combination you’ve got going on here, I’m going to need those to go, too.”

When you nodded eagerly, he reached behind you and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it off the bed before immediately moving farther south and ripping your underwear off. Once you were completely nude, Five sat back to take you all in. You assumed he liked what he saw, because it was only another second before he was covering you with his own body, attacking your full breasts with frantic sucking kisses.

“Damnit, honey, these tits…fuck,” he moaned as he buried his face in your cleavage.

“I take it that you’re pleased?” you giggled, threading your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head, holding himself over you while he shoved your legs further apart with his knees. Then he lowered himself to kiss you tenderly, caressing your face with one hand. You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m more than pleased. You’re beautiful.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time using his free hand to travel down your chest and abdomen, and along your inner thighs. His long fingers met the soft, wet area between them, and he slowly ran them up through your pillowy folds, making you even wetter.

“Five…” you moaned as you rocked your hips up to match his strokes.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he asked, only slightly condescending as he continued to watch your face for your reactions.

Five entered you with two fingers, pressing in slowly and then backing out again before repeating it in a slow rhythm. You chased his hand with desperate thrusts of your hips, biting your bottom lip to try to contain some of the noises that threatened to escape your lips.

“Fuck me, please,” you whined, throwing your head back.

He gave a quiet chuckle and you felt his hand move away from you. Then he was positioning himself between your legs and lowering himself so that you could feel his dick rubbing against your slit.

“God, I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’m going to fuck you like you want, gorgeous. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasped when you felt him enter you, just slow enough not to be jarring, but not drawing it out, either.

When he was fully inside, you angled your hips so he was at just the right spot.

“How’s that?” he whispered as he slowly pumped into you.

“That’s good…” You grabbed at his shoulders and back. “Keep going.”

Five continued his slow and lazy thrusts while holding himself over you so he could look down at your face and body. His hair fell forward over his eye and he made quiet groaning noises that were punctuated with soft kisses.

“You feel so damn good,” he moaned.

“Five?”

“What do you need, darling?”

“I need you to really fuck me. Hard.”

He looked down at you, momentarily stopping his movements. Then he laughed quietly and you smiled back. “Well, I did say I’d fuck you like you wanted, didn’t I?”

When he pulled out, you let out a soft sigh and watched as he crawled back off the bed, his dick still hard and wet from being inside of you.

“Wha--?” you started to ask, right before he yanked your legs sideways, so that you were laying across the width of the bed.

Five positioned himself between your legs, holding them up under your knees and settling them on either side of his waist while he lined himself up and slammed into you again.

“Is this what you wanted?” he snarled, continuing to thrust into you hard and fast.

“Yes!” you cried, clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Every time he pounded into you, you got to feel the intensity of his strength as your entire body moved back and forth, your tits bouncing enticingly in front of him. He gave your voluptuous ass a hard slap that made you cry out again. You instinctively covered your mouth with your arm.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Five warned through clenched teeth. “Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you scream.”

Everything he was doing and saying was driving you quickly over the edge, and you did scream for him, just like he wanted. You couldn’t even help yourself.

“Yes…please…keep going…harder, please! I need more!”

You were begging and pleading while he railed into you as hard as he possibly could, thrusting his thick cock deep inside of you while slamming his pubic bone right into your clit every single time. All while completely supporting your lower body, angling it up and off the bed so he could fuck you relentlessly and perfectly.

Soon, you felt your muscles start to twitch and your head fell back, your mouth wide open as you repeatedly asked him to fuck you harder. When you finally hit that wall, you completely lost yourself, screaming his name while bucking and thrashing wildly against him.

Your orgasm was still coming in waves when Five released himself inside of you, his head tipped back and jaw set, growling obscenities while his muscles contracted and he dug his fingers harder into your thighs.

When the intensity had passed, Five let go of your legs, setting them gently down, and he leaned over the top of you, his hands on either side of your head. He kissed you tenderly, still trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said with a heavy exhale.

You nodded, laying a hand on his cheek. “So damn good.”

After another minute, you both moved so that you were lying longways on the bed again. Five held you against his chest while he kissed your forehead and traced his fingers down your arms and back.

“I’m not sure why we haven’t been doing that all along,” he joked.

“Because you needed to get to know me and my sparkling personality first.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Sparkling? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.”

When you giggled, he pulled you close to him. Your lips pulled to the side in thought and after a few seconds you decided to just put it out there.

“Are you sure you’re ok with my body? I mean, I am, but I just want to make sure you are, too. Because if this is going to continue, and I really hope it does, then I need to know you’re going to be ok with my size and not try to change me after a while. I’ve dated men in the past that said they were ok with it, but then a month or so later, they’re encouraging me to go to the gym or making comments about my diet. They all got kicked to the curb, because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I am who I am and I love my body. I just want to make sure you do, too.”

Five was quiet for a moment, then he held your chin in his hand. “Look at me,” he said quietly, while tilting you face up. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that body type or looks matter to me, because it doesn’t. I just had the most mind-blowing sex I have ever had, and I wouldn’t change one single thing about you. You’re perfect.”

“Wow,” you said with a smile. “Five Hargreeves just called me perfect. Wait until I spread this rumor down at headquarters.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “You believe me, don’t you?”

You nodded. “I believe you. And thank you.” You gave him a soft kiss and smiled. “So, does this mean I can keep sexually harassing you at work?”

“I hereby give you permission to harass me as much as you want on a daily basis. I will welcome it.”

After that first date, you and Five couldn’t get enough of one another. It was like just being in the same building with him set your body on fire. You would find yourself staring off, lost in a daydream about what his mouth felt like and then someone would clear their throat or say your name, and you’d realize they had been talking to you without you noticing.

Obviously, everyone knew that something was going between you two. You hadn’t exactly spread the word, but you also hadn’t denied it. You didn’t really care what anyone thought, anyway. The only problem was, there was a strict policy of no relationships between case managers and field agents in place. This was done to protect the agents, and to avoid any favoritism with assignments. A few casual flings here and there were overlooked, but serious relationships were usually squashed. Not that you would describe what you had as serious. Yet, anyway.

You did love spending time with one another, even without the sex. You even made Five join you at lunch with your usual group, much to the shock of your friends. It was awkward at first, but when Five cracked a very dry and cutting joke about someone in upper management, the table went silent for a second before bursting into laughter. He looked at you in surprise, like he couldn’t believe he was having this type of positive social interaction. You just smiled and shrugged, mouthing “I told you so”.

Despite the fact that you spent a lot of time together outside of work, that didn’t stop either of you from taking advantage of your proximity at the Commission. You had lost count of the number of times you two had stolen away somewhere in the building for a quickie during the day. With Five’s status plus his convenient teleportation powers, you could hide anywhere you could think of that would give you at least a few minutes of privacy.

You would be sitting there, attempting to work on a case, when Five would come strolling in. Just the sight of him striding into the room, all confident and sexy with that tiny smirk on his face, made you want to jump on top of him. He would approach you with some made up problem he had and ask you to go with him so you could help straighten it out. It was pretty apparent what was going on, and your coworkers would exchange glances around you, but you didn’t care.

Once you were safely down the hallway, Five would grab you and blink you into some abandoned storage room where you were immediately attacked. You had told him to stop being so aggressive while at work, because the hickeys he was leaving on your neck were clearly visible. But that didn’t stop him from shoving you against a table or a wall, all while kissing you fervently and telling you how much he wanted you in that deep, growling voice of his.

Dropping to his knees to eat you out while kneading the flesh of your ass. Spinning you around to bend you over a table before fingering you and then fucking you from behind. Biting and sucking at your tits and stomach, leaving marks that would be hidden by your clothes, but were still a reminder of who you belonged to. All of it was expertly done, as only Five could do, and you couldn’t get enough.

The servicing wasn’t a one-way street, though. You liked to flip the tables sometimes and push him against the wall, sliding slowly down his body until you were kneeling in front of him, hands already clawing at his belt and zipper while you called him Daddy. When you would take all of him into your mouth, he would hiss through his teeth and groan loudly, his hand resting in your hair while he praised you for being good for him. He wanted you to look at him while you sucked him off, and tell you to finger yourself while you did it. You’d be choking on his dick, a hand shoved into your panties, and both of you moaning until you came; all while the throngs of Commission employees were passing by right outside the door.

It was quickly becoming apparent that your relationship was evolving into something more. You were starting to spend more nights together, sleeping in one another’s beds, curled up together and waking up happy in the morning, just to be near each other. Five loved cuddling up with you, pulling your soft body close against his, and nuzzling into your neck or hair. He told you how happy you made him and thanked you for pulling him out of his shell. He’d idly stroke your arms and thighs while you would lie together in the dark, just talking quietly. In the morning, he’d trace patterns over the white, jagged lines that criss crossed your abdomen and hips, reminding you how beautiful you were as the sunlight spilled across your bed.

Your feelings for Five were starting to seep into your everyday routines and the work you normally prided yourself on. You found yourself worrying about every assignment he went on, even though you knew he was a professional and could handle it.

After a while, the cases you started assigning him got easier and easier, whereas before you would have given him the most difficult and dangerous ones. He finally called you out on it when he received a total rookie assignment while another agent that was not nearly as skilled received a much more complicated one.

He sat on the corner of your desk, a smug grin on his face, as he dropped the file in front of you.

“What the hell is this?” he asked you, still smiling.

You glanced down at the file, then back at him. “What do you mean?”

He tapped the file with his finger. “This garbage. It’s a case for a newbie. Hell, you could probably hand this to any random person off the street and they could do it. So what’s going on?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and frowning. “Maybe I thought you just needed a break, that’s all.”

He studied your face and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Every case I get from you these days is getting simpler and simpler. I just haven’t said anything until now. Are you losing faith in my abilities, is that it?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Of course not! It’s just, you know…” Your voice trailed off and your eyes flitted away from his.

“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hands onto the desk in front of you, looking up at him. “Fine. I’m scared to give you anything complicated because I’m afraid something will happen to you. And I don’t really want my boyfriend being gunned down or stabbed or beaten all to shit, ok? Especially not in another timeline where you might not even be able to come back.”

Five took a second to absorb that information, then he looked down with a smile. “You really worry about me?”

“Yes, I worry about you. Is that so bad? You might not be as amazing as you think you are. You’re not infallible, you know.”

Five made a face like he hadn’t actually considered that before, which was mildly infuriating, and then he looked at you with that gentle smile of his that you knew he saved only for you. He leaned in and gave you a quick but tender kiss full on the mouth, even though you were still in a roomful of people that could see. When he pulled away, you felt your face flush, but not from embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he whispered earnestly.

Then he flashed you that arrogant smirk again, the dimple on his cheek deepening, before snatching a much thicker file off your desk, and blinking away without another word.

It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before Corporate caught wind of your relationship. Especially when you were making erratic decisions with your cases lately. Both you and Five received a notice from senior management requesting a meeting. You were a mess of anxiety and nerves when the time came. Your career was important to you, and it was not in your nature to just throw that away for some man. But Five wasn’t just any man, was he? If you were going to have to choose between your job and your relationship with him, you had no idea what you were going to do.

Sitting in front of the executive’s desk, your leg bounced up and down with nerves as you waited for Five to join you. When he arrived, he had the absolute audacity to look calm and unbothered as he sat down in the chair next to you. He greeted the manager and then turned to give you a wink and a small smile. You really had no idea how he could be this nonchalant. Maybe he didn’t care if you had to end things.

“As I’m sure you know, the reason you two have been called here today is –”

Five cut your manager off mid sentence. “Yes, we are fully aware. According to section 64, subsection D of the Commission Code of Conduct, we are prohibited from being in a romantic relationship with one another.”

The executive paused. “Well, yes, that’s correct. And so –”

“And so you have to inform us that we either have to end our relationship or resign from our positions.”

There was another moment of perplexed silence from across the desk. “Uh, yes…”

“But that is only because of the current departments we work for, due to conflicting interests, correct?” Five continued.

“That is correct, yes. But—”

“So, if we move to the same department, that shouldn’t be an issue?”

“Well…yes…I suppose…”

You looked at Five, completely confused. “Five, what are you doing? You don’t want to work in case management. I know you don’t.”

He nodded. “You’re right. But you can train to become a field agent.”

Your mouth hung open. “What?”

“You’ve only mentioned that you were interested in being out in the field about 50 times, so why not? They can always use more agents,” he turned to the manager, “Isn’t that right?”

The man cleared his throat. “Oh. Well, yes, that’s true.”

Five nodded again, as if that explained everything. “Alright then, so move her to my department. She has the determination and skill. And you have my official recommendation, which as you know, holds a lot of weight around here.”

There was another look of bewilderment in your direction. “Yes, Mr. Hargreeves, that’s true. I suppose we could do that—”

Five stood up with a smile. “Great! It’s all settled then.” He turned to you, still sitting in your chair and trying to make sense of all of this.

What he had said was true. You had told Five many times that you wished you could have his job. But you figured that was outside of your skill set. Five didn’t seem to agree. He knew you were highly intelligent, strong, and had the right personality. You just needed the proper training.

He reached out a hand to pull you up. “Is this all ok with you, darling? Do you have anything to add?”

You shook your head slowly. “Uh, no…I mean, yes…I mean, yes I’m ok with it and I don’t have anything else to add.”

“Great!” Five turned to the manager. “Just send me the paperwork we need to fill out and we can call it good.”

The manager shook each of your hands and it appeared that the meeting was over before it began. Five guided you towards the door with a hand on your back. You looked over your shoulder, still unsure of what exactly just happened, but you let him push you outside into the hall.

“What the fuck, Five?” you demanded, hands on your hips. “You want to tell me what is happening right now?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? They weren’t going to let us keep dating if we were working in our current departments, so one of us had to move. And I know this is what you really wanted.”

You thought for a moment. “So…you didn’t think of breaking up with me just to keep things the same?”

His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it shut again, his brows furrowing and creating deep creases between his eyes. “No. Of course not.” He took a few steps closer to you and took your face gently into his hands, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”

You drew in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, this time with a smile.

You answered him, your own grin spreading slowly across your face. “Say that again.”

Five laughed, leaning down to kiss you and you hugged him around his waist. “I love you,” he said again after breaking away.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t know if I realized it until just now, but I do. I love you so much.”

Five nodded. “Well, that’s a relief. Because I would have looked like a giant asshole if I did all that and you shot me down.”

Laughing, you reached up for another kiss that quickly turned very heated. When you pulled away, Five was breathing hard and he tugged your body harder against his.

“There’s an empty room down the hallway over there,” he said suggestively.

You shook your head. “Sorry, honey, but we have to get to work. I have a lot of training to start on.”

“I think you forget who your new boss is,” he said in that serious tone of his.

Five pulled you in tightly again, kissing you hard on the mouth and flattened you against the wall. His hand roamed down to your chest and he gave your breast a small squeeze while pressing his knee in between your legs. When he heard you moan softly into his mouth, he backed away with a grin.

“You know, I can report you to HR for sexual harassment,” you said with a crooked smile, even though you were having a hard time controlling your heart rate.

“It’s not harassment if you like it,” he shot back before giving you a loud smack on the ass.

Then he turned around and walked away, leaving you flustered and hot; but also with that amazing feeling in the pit of your stomach from knowing you had found the perfect person to love and that loved you just as much in return.

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erinwantstowrite · 1 month ago

Text

THE CIRCLE MYSTERY!!!

in case you're unfamiliar with my page, here is some context for this post:

a few months ago, i wanted to try my hand at a mystery plot, and began looking for a circle mystery plot diagram that i had written down a year or so prior... but i couldn't find it. i SWORE i had it somewhere. i knew that i had left the notebook on my shelf along with all my other notebooks. it was a little black journal that i didn't use very often, but it still had some important notes inside. but it wasn't there on my shelf, or any other shelf in the house. it was like it had vanished, and i started to doubt my memory.

i figured not all was lost. sure, the journal was gone, but someone would be able to help me find this circle diagram.

NO.

no one could figure out what the hell i was talking about, not without lack of trying. many tried to help me, to figure out this mystery with me. "the circle went outwards" i said, but all i could find was the rotating clockwise circle plot diagram that was not mystery specific.

no matter what i did, i couldn't find the original source online. i phrased it in many different ways, but it was a dead end. with no journal, no online source, and no one understanding what i was talking about, the circle mystery formula... remained a mystery. many concluded that i likely made this circle diagram myself and then forgot about it entirely, but that's up in the air.

well, a couple weeks ago, i found the circle mystery plot i was looking for.

it was not the actual physical note, but a picture i had taken before seemingly losing the notebook/journal that it was in. it showed only the circle diagram with a couple of minimal notes on the sides. i have yet to find that journal, it remains missing to this day. one day i might find the physical copy with the notes that were underneath it but alas, at this point in time, i only had the circle to work off of.

but it was enough!!! just having the circle was enough for me to make this beauty, of who i will share with you now:

as you can see, it's not all that complicated. it breaks down only a few simple key elements of figuring out a mystery, not plot wise, but investigation wise. "crime and victim, motive, method, opportunity, and suspects." CVM and MOS is what i call that for short but that might be lame

basically, it's the 5 w's.

that's it.

this whole time, it was the 5 w's "Who, What, Where, When, and Why" (except with terms that would be used in an actual investigation), laid out into a diagram that extends outwards where you put your points on the circle rings to connect. this could also easily be a venn diagram, but i remember liking that it extended outwards and was in a line rather than in groupings.

it's extremely simple, too, so it's been annoying me that i could forget it when i needed it most. that being said, it's in the past, now, and it's here, and now i want to talk about the points

CVM and MOS

crime and victim. this is always where you start.

look, you might start your plot right in the thick of it with a suspect having already been revealed and the entire plot is that your character has to prove why and how they did it. but it's up to you, the writer, to explain how they got to this point. which means you need to know how it works in the original order before being able to write this plot that way.

a crime has been committed- what crime? murder? robbery? this is your first question, or statement. what i mean by that is are you telling your readers "This has happened." or is the plot/character/reader asking "What happened?"

and victim- who was it that was affected? if it's a murder, you have to identify the person that was killed before you can get into anything. if it's another crime like a robbery, then what was stolen? this is the phase where your investigator goes looking into the details of the victim. which means you need to know your victim.

your investigator and you are on the same side here. both of you need to know their daily ins and outs, you need to have character witnesses from friends and family, you need to get a glimpse into who they were when it was just them around. maybe a diary or look at their bedroom to give a statement as to how they were feeling and how they occupied the space they were in. maybe online records, because their activity can give you pieces of the puzzle. even if this is not completely revealed to readers (though in my opinion, this part is very needed in order to have your reader feel for the victim), you as the author need to have that mindset. you need to know who they were and what their life was like even if your investigator never gets around to knowing this.

because it leads directly into your suspect pool.

mystery plots are all about the connections, the drama, the details. your victim is dead, and your investigator is looking into their lives. you could, honestly, play it really well with the victim and the investigator being the main focus. a good example of this is that one episode of Bones where Temperance Brennan is listening to the voice recordings of a murdered woman she starts to see a lot of herself in. Brennan is seeing the bones of this woman and trying to find out what happened to her with all that is left, and she's also listening to her voice, and we don't see a lot of the suspect in this case (for good reason).

((honestly, this might just be me saying you should go watch Bones.))

but, in most cases, your suspects are the main source of entertainment. so you need to know your victim, and by extension, know your suspects.

all of your potential murderers (or whatever plot you're writing) go on the outside ring not because they are last in your investigation, but because you would work inside the suspect pool. kind of a visual aspect to show they're connected to the center, which is your crime/victim (which, again, could be changed for a different type of mystery. this section is just the Big Reason for the mystery to get started. or the Big Question.)

you get your suspects through the character reveal phase of your mystery, though they can also be revealed because of the setting. like in Clue, or in that new show, The Residence (go watch it), where a murder has happened in a house where only a select few people could have done it.

who are the people that had bad blood with this person? who are the ones that have something to gain from that person's death? or, even, who are the people that just wanted to do it?

motive.

if you want your mystery to be solved, you have to have a motive. a reason as to why this happened, even if it was a fit of unplanned rage. this part is crucial not just from an entertainment standpoint in your story, but for later on in a prosecution phase in real life. a jury might find it hard to convict someone if a prosecutor can't give a motive for why they'd do it. in this case, you are the prosecutor and your readers are the jury. if you want your reader to believe that this person could have done it, you have to give a motive.

but it's not the most important part. the most important is the how.

the method of the crime tells a lot about the person that did it. take a look at Criminal Minds, and how they make a profile for the killers. granted, they have more to work with because there are multiple murders. but you can get a basic idea with just the one.

from an investigative standpoint, you have to figure out how something happened to get a clue into the character of the murderer. which of your suspects has the ability not to get sick at the sight of blood? which suspect is smart enough to plan it out? which suspect would have the temper to grab the nearest heavy object as their weapon?

so you look at your crime, you get an idea of the method, and you can eye your suspect pool to match who is the most likely to commit in this way.

and last, opportunity.

this is where an alibi comes in. "I couldn't have done it because I was at my son's birthday party! ask anyone!" sounds pretty good. until you find out the suspect mysteriously was in the bathroom at that party for a couple of hours and came back wearing different clothes.

your suspects have to have the opportunity, or they have to have the alibi. were they there around the time? do they have a key to the house? do they know that the window on the first floor never locks? did they have the time to do it? even if they have something that looked like an opportunity, they might have an alibi.

from there, it's all about putting down your dots. which character has the motive, could pull off the method, and had the opportunity?

however... you could have multiple characters hit the MMO. what happens then?

you could drill these characters in an interrogation (could or could not be in an actual interrogation setting) and get a confession out of one of them, OR you could have your characters go looking for that sweet, sweet key evidence that cinches it all together and ties one of the suspects to the crime. or, maybe in a plot twist, ties both suspects to have committed the crime together.

(in real life, though, having a confession and key evidence is for the best. it makes it hard for a defense team)

this is your standing out point, and would definitely be your last big crescendo for the story. this episode of Brooklynn 99 is honestly the best example (in fiction) i could come up with right now for an interrogation where you get a confession out of someone. oh, and legally blonde! can't forget elle wood's breakthough (if you haven't watched legally blonde and you click that link and get yourself spoiled instead of sitting down and watching the whole thing, i am frowning at you in disappointment right now. shaking my head and everything).

when it comes to both evidence and interrogation... go watch The Residence (Netflix... or pirate). the last episode is brilliant and it's well worth the watch. Detective Cupp was so much fun and it sucks more people aren't talking about it.

i think i should stop yapping now, because that about covers what i came here to write. hopefully this stupid circle helps somebody out

#the circle mystery is solved #for the most part #circle mystery plot #CVM & MOS #writing #writing help #mystery #writers on tumblr #damn near lost my mind over this stupid circle #but we've reached an end

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amirasainz · 8 months ago

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Hey love the leclerc sister ❤️ can you do maybe that we won in monza her reaction and the family reaction please ?

Hiii guys. I hope you enjoy reading this and thank you soo much for all the support. I promise, I'll try to write the other requests as soon as possible. However, I currently find it easier to write Leclerc!sister stories. So if you have some ideas, my requests are open for them. (they are open for all ideas.

Btw, I'm so happy that Charles won. He is literally my favourite driver. However, I'm very unhappy with the way Lando is currently acting (it's just my opinion, please respect that)

Enjoy reading!!!

-XoXo

He won in Monaco, he wins in Monza

One of the interviewers, addressing Charles who was seated alongside Lewis and Nico in the media room, asked, “A question for Charles. I hope I’m not being disrespectful with this question, but it is about your little sister. Why is Monza her first race appearance and not Monaco, and why did it take so long for her to attend a race weekend?”

It was Thursday, and the only topic on everyone’s lips was the attendance of YN Caroline Pascale Florence Leclerc. When the Leclerc family entered the paddock today, the sight of the young Monegasque girl walking between her older brothers not only surprised the fans but also caught the media’s attention, as it was her first-ever Formula 1 appearance.

Charles responded to the first part of the question with a smile, "Ah, yes. I’ve been asked that a lot today. Well, it’s actually quite simple. My sister wasn’t in Monaco to see the race in person because she was at home with our grandmother, watching the race together. Since the start of my Formula 1 career, my sister and grandmother have always watched the races together at my grandmother’s home. There are a couple of reasons for this tradition: 1. My sister was too young to attend the paddock a few years ago. With all the media and fans, it would have been quite overwhelming for her. 2. My grandmother isn’t very healthy anymore, so it’s easier for her to stay at home, where it’s cooler, and she can relax in peace. So, this has become their Monaco Race tradition, and I wouldn’t want to ruin that just because people are wondering where YN is."

Before Charles could address the second part of the question, Lewis interjected, preventing the reporters from probing further. “That is a really sweet tradition. And Charles is right. Why should he ruin a family tradition, or in this case, a grandmother-granddaughter tradition, just because the fans and media think YN must attend the Grand Prix in person? From the sounds of it, all parties seem happy with how things are.”

Nico, who had been listening intently, nodded in agreement and added, “Absolutely. Family traditions are important, and it’s heartwarming to hear about the bond between your sister and grandmother. It’s not always about being physically present at the races; it’s about the shared experience and the memories they create together.”

Charles smiled thankfully at Lewis and Nico before agreeing with them. “Yeah, everyone is happy with how things are, and it doesn’t matter because, in the end, we always have a nice big family dinner with everyone. For the second part of your question about why it took so long for my sister to make an appearance, there is also a simple answer. My sister recently turned 18 years old, meaning she now counts as an adult. However, when I started in Formula 1, she was only 12 years old, meaning she was a little girl. My family and I had a long talk about this when I first started racing, and none of us felt comfortable with the thought of her getting swarmed by the media or fans at such a young age. We wanted her to be able to go to school or meet up with friends without getting photographed all the time. As some of you might have seen, I only posted pictures of my sister where her face was covered up just for privacy. But now she is 18 years old, she made the decision to attend this weekend, so I’ll respect that. However, I still ask everybody to not swarm her and leave her as much privacy as possible. She is here to watch the race and not to be the new art piece for social media."

With the strong words from the Ferrari driver, the media stopped asking questions about the youngest Leclerc, making her brother's life a bit easier this weekend.

_______________________________________________

The next few days passed quickly and YN enjoyed every minute with it. Not only was the young girl able to see her brothers all of the time, but everybody was also so nice to her. AT the Ferrari garage, the mechanics always greeted her and answered all her questions. The other team members were always quick to inform YN about the newest paddock Gossip over some watermelon and strawberry gelato. Carlos, her brothers team mate, told her all of Charles embarrassing stories, making her laugh till she cried. And the best part for her was, that her family was always there as well. And before she could even blink, it was finally race day.

The air was electric at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza, where the excitement of the Formula 1 race filled the atmosphere with palpable energy. YN, a bright-eyed girl with a heart full of enthusiasm, stood between her two older brothers, Arthur and Lorenzo. The three of them wore matching Ferrari shirts, their faces painted with the iconic red logo.

“Can you believe we’re finally here?” YN exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she took in the sprawling racetrack and the roaring engines.

“I know! It’s incredible!” Arthur replied, grinning broadly. He ruffled her hair affectionately. “You’re going to love this, YN. Just wait until the race starts!”

Lorenzo leaned in closer, his voice a mix of excitement and pride. “And just think, you’re going to see Charles out there racing! This is his second home track!”

YN's eyes widened with joy. “I can’t wait! I’ve watched him on TV, but seeing him in person is going to be amazing!”

As the cars lined up on the starting grid, the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. The siblings exchanged glances, feeling the thrill of the moment. Suddenly, the crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers took their positions, and YN jumped up and down.

“Look! There he is!” YN pointed excitedly as Charles, her older brother, appeared on the screen, adjusting his helmet and climbing into his Ferrari.

“Go, Charles!” Arthur shouted, pumping his fist in the air. Lorenzo joined in, his voice booming, “You’ve got this, Charles! Show them what you’re made of!”

With the race about to begin, YN felt a flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. “What if he sees us?” she asked, her voice a mixture of hope and anxiety.

“He will! He always looks for us,” Lorenzo assured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “And he’ll be so happy to see you here for your first race!”

The lights turned green, and the cars shot off the line, the sound of engines roaring like a symphony of speed. YN’s eyes were glued to the track, her heart racing in rhythm with the cars as they sped by. “This is so fast! Look at them go!” she shouted, her excitement contagious.

As the laps progressed, the tension in the air grew. YN cheered for Charles, her small voice echoing through the grandstands. “Come on, Charles! You can do it!”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the race came to an end, and Charles crossed the finish line in a spectacular first place. The crowd erupted in applause, and YN jumped up, beaming. “He did it! He did it!”

Arthur and Lorenzo hugged her tightly. “He’s amazing!” Lorenzo exclaimed, his voice barely able to contain his excitement. “I’m so proud of him!”

As the drivers began to celebrate, YN spotted Charles climbing out of his car, his face lit up with joy. He scanned the crowd, and when his eyes landed on his family, his smile widened even more. “I see them!” he shouted, pointing towards them.

“Charles!” YN screamed, waving her arms wildly.

Charles jogged over to the barrier, his heart swelling with happiness as he spotted his little sister. “YN! Did you enjoy the race?” he called out, leaning over the fence to get a better look at her.

“Of course I did! I loved it! You were amazing!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Did you really? I’m so glad you’re here!” Charles leaned closer, his eyes shining with pride. “You were cheering so loud! I could hear you!”

“Really?” YN’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she giggled. “I was so nervous! But it was the best day ever!”

Arthur chimed in, “You should’ve seen her, Charles. She was a little ball of energy the whole time!”

“YN, you’re my lucky charm!” Charles laughed, ruffling her hair. “I need you at every race now!”

“I will! I promise!” she giggled back, feeling like the happiest girl in the world.

Lorenzo grinned at his brothers. “You should be proud. You raced well, Charles. You’re amazing out there!”

“Thanks, man. It means a lot,” Charles replied, his voice filled with gratitude. “But the real highlight was seeing YN here. I can’t believe it’s her first time!”

Just then, the crowd roared with applause as Charles’s fellow drivers approached, congratulating him. He turned back to YN, “Let’s take a picture! I want to remember this moment!”

“Yes! Let’s do it!” YN squealed, and the three brothers gathered around her, arms wrapped tightly.

With the sun setting behind them, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they posed for a picture. Charles held YN close, a protective arm around her shoulders, while Arthur and Lorenzo beamed with pride.

“Say Ferrari!” Charles instructed, and they all shouted in unison, “Ferrari!”

As they snapped the picture, YN felt a warmth in her heart, knowing that this day would be etched in her memory forever. “I can’t wait for the next race!” she declared, looking up at her brothers.

“Neither can we,” Arthur said, pulling her in for another hug. “We’ll make sure you’re at every race!”

“Absolutely,” Lorenzo added, a grin plastered on his face. “You’re part of the team now, YN!”

Charles smiled down at his little sister, feeling grateful for the love and support of his family. “I’m so lucky to have you all here. This was the best race ever.”

As the excitement of the race began to settle, YN, Arthur, and Lorenzo found a cozy spot near the track where they could watch the celebration unfold. The atmosphere was alive with the sounds of laughter, cheers, and the roar of the fans.

“Look at them!” YN pointed to Charles, who was now surrounded by teammates and fans. He was smiling from ear to ear, clearly reveling in the joy of the moment. “He looks so happy!”

“He is happy,” Arthur replied, leaning back against the railing. “It’s not just about the race; it’s about sharing it with the people you love.”

“Yeah, and he knows we’re here cheering him on,” Lorenzo added, a proud grin on his face. “He’s always been a family guy.”

YN beamed, her heart swelling with pride. “I can’t believe I got to see him race in person. It was so cool!“

As the celebrations continued, YN’s attention was suddenly caught by a group of fans waving banners and holding up signs. “Look over there! They have a sign for Charles!” she exclaimed, pointing excitedly.

“Let’s go check it out!” Arthur suggested, and they made their way through the crowd, YN leading the charge.

When they reached the group, they encountered a colorful banner that read, “Charles Leclerc, our champion!” YN’s eyes sparkled with admiration.

“Can I hold it?” she asked, her voice filled with eagerness.

“Of course! Here you go!” one of the fans replied, handing the banner to her. YN beamed with joy as she held it high above her head.

“Charles! Over here!” she shouted, waving the banner enthusiastically.

Charles turned, catching sight of his little sister holding the sign, and his heart swelled with affection. “YN! That’s amazing!” he called back, flashing her a thumbs-up.

“Look, he sees us!” Lorenzo said, his excitement contagious.

“Let’s take another picture!” Arthur suggested, pulling out his phone.

As they posed with the banner, YN felt a surge of happiness. This was a moment she would cherish forever. After snapping a few pictures, they decided to head back to the main area where the podium ceremony was about to take place.

“YN, you’re going to love this part!” Lorenzo said, guiding her through the crowd. “This is where the drivers get their trophies.”

As they settled into a spot with a great view of the podium, YN couldn’t contain her excitement. “I can’t wait to see Charles get his trophy!”

When the drivers were finally called up to the podium, the crowd erupted into cheers. Charles stood proudly on the first-place step, his trophy gleaming in the sunlight. YN clapped and cheered along with her older brothers.

Charles looked down at his family, and his smile only grew wider. He raised the trophy high above his head, and the crowd roared in response.

After the ceremony, Charles made his way through the crowd toward his family, still clutching the trophy. “You guys are the best! Thank you for being here!” he exclaimed, enveloping YN in a warm embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, Charles!” YN squeaked, her face lighting up with adoration. “You were so fast!”

“Thanks, little sis! It means the world to me that you came to support me,” he replied, tousling her hair again. “I hope you enjoyed it.”

“I loved it!” she said, her eyes glistening. “Can we come to every race now?”

“Absolutely! We’ll make it a tradition,” Charles promised, exchanging a knowing glance with Arthur and Lorenzo, who nodded in agreement.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the siblings gathered for one last photograph together. Charles held the trophy aloft, with YN standing proudly beside him, a huge grin plastered on her face.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles lecerlc x leclerc!reader #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x leclerc!reader #leclerc!reader #leclerc!sister #lorenzo leclerc x reader #monza gp 2024 #charles leclerc #monza 24 #monza grand prix #ferrari f1 #scuderia ferrari #xoxo babygirl 💋

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