DEDICATED TO YOU | CHARLES LECLERC
pairing dad!charles leclerc x mom!reader
⭑ SUMMARY charles dedicates his helmet to you and amélie.
word count 1.1k
warnings my french skills, pure fluff
note i haven't written in french in almost two years, so bear with me if some things are wrong 😓
MASTERLIST | CL16 MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST
The days leading up to the Monaco GP were hectic, with Charles and his team focused on securing another victory in his home country. Charles was constantly busy with testing and training, which often began early in the morning and ended late at night. Yet, Charles always managed to find time for you and Amélie, no matter how busy he was. And tonight, he came home with a special surprise.
“I’m home!” Charles said as he opened the front door, the familiar click echoed through the hallway.
From the kitchen, you peeked down the hall and saw Amélie already heading towards her father, who was waiting with open arms.
Charles laughed as she ran into his embrace. “Hello, mon ange (my angel). How was your day?”
Amélie wriggled free from his arms and excitedly recounted her day. “Maman and grand-mère took me to the park! I saw puppies, Papa! Sooo many puppies!”
Charles chuckled, ruffling Amélie’s hair before heading over to you. “Puppies, huh?”
“Yes! Big ones and little ones!” Amélie replied, sticking her arms in the air to demonstrate the different sizes of the dogs.
You smiled at their exchange, enjoying the moment as Charles finally entered the kitchen.
“Mon amour (my love), I missed you,” Charles said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.
“I missed you too,” you said, kissing him. Amélie, catching the moment, scrunched her tiny nose in disgust. She waddled over and tugged on Charles’ pant leg.
“Up, Papa!” She demanded, reaching her arms up.
Charles bent down to lift her up, making playful airplane noises that sent Amélie giggling. He settled her comfortably on his hip before turning his attention back to you.
“Since I have you both here… I have a surprise.” He reached into his back pocket while carefully holding Amélie, and pulled out his phone. With a swipe, he turned the screen towards you, his photo album open.
Amélie’s eyes widened as she recognized something in the image. “My name!”
You looked at the photo and immediately recognized Charles’ helmet. However, it was no longer the familiar red with white details but a striking crimson with gold and black accents. What made it truly special, though, was the elegant script of your names—yours and Amélie’s—handwritten by Charles himself and beautifully detailed along the side of the helmet. You could recognize his handwriting anywhere.
“Oh, wow,” you managed, feeling speechless. But Charles didn’t need you to say anything. He watched you as you read over the names again and again, your eyes filled with emotion. He knew you so well, he didn’t need words when your eyes told him everything he needed to hear.
“I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, but you know how complicated these things can be,” Charles said. “I thought Monaco would be the perfect race to debut it.”
“Monaco is the perfect race to debut it... The design itself is perfect. Thank you, Charles," you said, still overwhelmed with emotion. You leaned in to hug him, careful not to suffocate Amélie. But the three-year-old, like her father, enjoyed being dramatic.
“Maman! I’m squished!”
The familiar sounds of roaring fans, whirring machines, and busy mechanics working on cars filled the air as you left the hospitality area. You walked alongside Amélie, who was still learning to walk long distances. She wobbled and stumbled at times, so you and Charles were always ready to catch her. But Amélie’s boundless energy never let an occasional fall stop her.
So, when she tripped over nothing halfway to the Ferrari garage, you decided to pick her up despite her protests, insisting she could walk on her own.
“There’s mon petit rayon de soleil (my little sunshine)!” Charles exclaimed as he spotted you and Amélie entering the garage. He planted a kiss on your forehead before taking his daughter from your arms.
Carlos, watching from behind one of the computers, smiled and said what everyone was thinking: “I’ve never seen a father love his daughter this much.”
“I’m not sure if you’re trying to tease me, Carlos, but I’ll take that as a compliment,” Charles replied playfully, half distracted by Amélie, who was now playing with his Ferrari cap.
Carlos held up his hands in defence and turned back to his work.
You smiled at their banter before approaching Charles and taking Amélie back. “So, are you ready to show them what you’ve got?”
“Of course,” Charles said. “I haven’t been working this hard for nothing.”
With the race about to begin, you left Charles and his team to focus on their preparations. You guided Amélie away from Charles, and she immediately started blabbering to nearby mechanics. This caught the attention of a nearby cameraman, who immediately began capturing the adorable moment of the little Leclerc. You stifled a laugh as Amélie posed in front of the camera, showing no signs of shyness.
About a half-hour later, you and Amélie had settled comfortably into the team hospitality area.
“Maman, look! Is Papa waving at us?” Amélie asked, pointing excitedly at the big TV displaying close-ups of the drivers. The screen showed Charles waving to the crowd, but the cameraman stood in front of him, making it look like he was waving to the camera.
“No, love, he’s waving at the fans out there,” you said with a chuckle, amused by her confusion.
Amélie’s face scrunched into a pout when she realized her dad wasn’t waving at her. But her frown soon changed into a smile as the cars on the track began to line up. Whether in person or on-screen, racing always held her full attention. Even at a young age, she had quickly grasped the basic rules of the sport.
As the race began, the roar of the engines filled the air. You held onto Amélie, worried about her leaning too far over the rail. Charles, in his signature red car, quickly took the lead from his pole position the previous afternoon.
With each passing lap, the excitement in the stands grew as the Monegasque driver pulled further ahead. His skill and precision were clear to everyone watching. You and Amélie watched with anticipation, her tiny cheers barely audible over the cacophony of engines and roaring crowds.
As the final lap approached, Charles’ car glided effortlessly across the track, each maneuver flawless and calculated. The checkered flag came into view, and Charles crossed the finish line with an impressive lead.
The crowd erupted into cheers, and you and Amélie joined in, her smile radiating.
Then, one of the TVs in the lounge focused on Charles emerging from his car, his helmet still on. You caught a glimpse of your and Amélie's name on the side of the helmet. Seeing the names proudly displayed as Charles celebrated his home victory made the moment even more memorable.
MASTERLIST | CL16 MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST
684 notes
·
View notes
you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (three)
requested here; (one); (two)
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (the duff inspired)
word count: 5.4k
You hadn’t planned for that kiss to happen the other day.
It was supposed to be all part of the game, of the plan.
You just wanted to learn things properly. Right? But you knew, you had wanted it, and worse, you had liked it.
God, what the hell were you doing?
He was Rafe Cameron. Cocky, rich, your nightmare with a reputation that should have sent you running in the opposite direction. And yet, here you were, feeling the ghost of his lips against yours, wondering what would’ve happened if he hadn’t pulled back. If you hadn’t let the spell break.
"Focus," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head like you could shake him off too. You had bigger things to worry about—like Nate.
Remember Nate? The whole point of this was to get him to notice you, to finally realize that you were more than just the girl he studied with. You weren’t supposed to be getting caught up with Rafe Cameron’s sudden vulnerability or, God forbid, catching feelings for him.
You groaned, running a hand through your hair as you turned down the street toward your apartment. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the thought of Rafe stayed with you for hours, sneaking its way back in every time you thought you’d pushed it out for good.
What was it about him, anyway? He was hot, sure. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at you sometimes, like he was seeing something deeper. Like there was more to this than either of you were willing to admit. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe you were starting to want him to see more.
By the time you reached your door, you had spiraled enough to know you needed a distraction. So you did what any girl in your situation would do: you grabbed your phone and texted Harper back.
You: Movie night better include wine. Lots of wine.
Her reply came almost immediately.
Harper <3: “Already taken care of, babe. See you soon.”
You smiled to yourself, feeling a little better. It was exactly what you needed. Maybe after a few glasses of wine and some cheesy rom-coms, you’d finally stop thinking about that stupid kiss.
As you closed the door behind you and flopped onto your bed, your phone buzzed again. Expecting it to be Harper, you lazily reached for it, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Rafe’s name instead.
Rafe: got your notes ready for tomorrow? or should i just show up and charm my way through it?
You stared at the screen for a second, unsure whether to laugh or throw your phone across the room. Why did he always have to do this? Act like nothing had changed when everything felt different?
Not that you were any better.
Finally, you typed back.
You: “depends. can ur charm get you through an entire chapter on portuguese colonization?”
His reply came almost instantly. Like he’d been waiting for yours.
Rafe: “we both know my charm can get me through anything.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the stupid smile tugging at your lips.
You: “let’s not test that theory. see you tomorrow.”
You tossed your phone aside, willing yourself not to overthink the fact that just seeing his name pop up on your screen made your heart race.
You were going to get through this. Nate was your goal. This thing with Rafe was just a detour. A very distracting, very complicated detour that you’d handle... eventually.
But tonight? Tonight was for your girls, your movies, and drowning out the chaos in your head with as much wine as it took to stop thinking about blue eyes and stupid smirks.
Later that night, you found yourself sprawled out on Ava’s couch, surrounded by blankets and popcorn, watching some cheesy rom-com that Harper had picked out. The glow of the TV cast a soft light over the room, but your mind was still elsewhere. Even with your best friends beside you, laughing and making snide comments about the movie, your thoughts kept drifting back to him.
It wasn’t just the kiss—although that had definitely been messing with your head lately—it was everything. The way he’d been acting, the things he’d said, the stupid nickname that you couldn’t seem to shake. Harper and Ava had a point, but they didn’t know Rafe like you did. Not anymore, at least. You’d seen sides of him recently that no one else had, and while you weren’t exactly sure what to make of it, there was something there. Something more than just the cocky rich boy everyone saw.
You sighed, reaching for another handful of popcorn, but Harper, ever the perceptive one, caught the look on your face before you could hide it.
“You’ve been quiet,” she said, nudging your leg with her foot. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Yeah, you’ve barely roasted this movie,” Ava added, throwing a piece of popcorn at you. “That’s not like you.”
You didn't want to get into it, “Just tired, I guess. Long day.”
Harper wasn’t buying it, though. She turned the volume on the TV down and sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. “Okay, spill. This is about Rafe, isn’t it?”
You groaned, covering your face with a pillow. “Can we not talk about him ?”
“Nope,” Harper said, yanking the pillow away. “Not until you tell us what’s going on. I know a liar when I see one."
Busted.
“Did something happen?”
You hesitated, glancing between the two of them. They were your best friends, and you knew they only wanted what was best for you. But the whole thing with Rafe felt complicated, like more than just a stupid crush. Still, you couldn’t keep it all bottled up forever.
“Fine,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “There was... a kiss.”
Harper’s jaw practically dropped. “A kiss? With Rafe?”
“When did this happen?” Ava demanded, practically bouncing in her seat. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”
“I was scared!” You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again as you thought back to that moment in the library, “He knew I never kissed anyone and offered.”
“Wait, what? Your first kiss was with Rafe freaking Cameron?”
Ava gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “He offered? What the hell does that even mean? Did he just, like, present his lips to you like some weirdo?”
You groaned, wishing you could shrink into the couch and disappear.
“It wasn’t like that, okay? We were talking, and it came up. I told him I hadn’t kissed anyone, and then he was all, ‘I can fix that,’ or something. It just... happened a few days later.”
“So, what was it like? Was it good? Did he use tongue? I need details, girl.”
Harper elbowed her. “Ava! Let her breathe, she’s clearly still processing.”
You felt your cheeks heat up even more as you fidgeted with a loose string on your sweater. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it was good, okay? Really good. But it’s Rafe, and now everything’s weird, and I don’t know what to do.”
Harper’s expression softened, “Okay, I’m trying to wrap my head around this. You’ve hated Rafe for, like, ever, right? And now, all of a sudden, you’re kissing him? What about Nate?”
“I know!” you groaned again, throwing your head back against the couch.
Ava looked like she was about to explode. “So... do you like him? Because it sounds like you’re starting to like him.”
“No! Maybe? I don’t know.” You buried your face in your hands. “I wasn’t supposed to like him. It wasn’t part of the plan. But then he had to go and be all... different. Like, he’s still Rafe, but sometimes he’s—I don’t know, sweet? Ugh, that sounds ridiculous.”
Harper sighed, shaking her head slowly. “Babe, if you’re getting all messed up over a guy like Rafe, this could be a problem.”
“Tell me about it,” you muttered. You didn’t want to like Rafe. He was the last person you should be catching feelings for.
“Guys like him? They’ll pull you in, mess with your head, and leave you confused as hell.”
“I know,” you said, hating how true that sounded. “But it’s not just that. There’s something else. Like, when we’re alone, he’s— I don’t know. He lets his guard down, and I see a side of him that I don’t think anyone else does. He's weirdly honest."
Harper raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not catching feelings?”
You let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back against the couch. “I don’t even know anymore. I thought this was just a stupid kiss, but now it feels like everything’s different. And it’s so dumb because I should be focused on Nate!"
Ava and Harper exchanged a glance, both of them looking concerned. Harper was the first to speak.
“Okay, maybe this is a sign you need to figure out what you really want. Do you want to keep chasing Nate, or... do you want to see where things go with Rafe?”
You blinked, the question hitting you harder than you expected. What did you want? Nate had always been the plan—nice, safe, uncomplicated Nate.
It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His stupid grin, the way he’d tease you but also get serious for like, two seconds, just long enough to make you question everything.
You sighed, pushing your hair out of your face, “This was a terrible mistake.”
Harper crossed her arms, studying you. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Call him.”
“What?!” You sat up, heart racing. “No way. I can’t just call him out of nowhere.”
“Yes, you can,” Ava chimed in, nodding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Here’s the test—if he picks up right away, it means he’s been thinking about you too. If he doesn’t? Then maybe he’s just playing games.”
You stared at them like they’d just suggested jumping off a cliff. “Are you guys serious? There’s no way I’m doing that. You're not serious."
Harper smirked, grabbing your phone off the table and holding it out to you. “Do it. Right now. Trust me, if he cares, he’ll pick up.”
What kind of fucked up science was that? Rafe? Liking you? It was ridiculous. There was no way. Not when he'd been with so many girls, kissed even more, and never gave you a second glance. You were just...there.
Your stomach twisted in knots. “What if he doesn’t answer? What if he thinks I’m weird for calling at night? What if I just— explode from embarrassment?”
Ava waved her hand dismissively. “If he doesn’t answer, then you know where you stand. But if he does... well, that’s another story. And I highly doubt you’ll explode. Just call him and see.”
You took a deep breath, staring at your phone like it was about to bite you. It felt reckless, terrifying even. But you were curious too—what would happen if you actually did it? Would he care? Would he answer?
“Fine,” you muttered, grabbing the phone from Harper and quickly finding Rafe’s name in your contacts before you could change your mind.
Ava grinned, leaning in. “Ooh, this is gonna be good.”
“I thought you hated him—"
“Call him!”
You hit call, holding your breath as the phone rang once, twice—
And then, to your absolute horror, it stopped. He picked up.
“Hey,” Rafe’s voice came through, “Everything okay?”
Your heart jumped into your throat.
You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both staring at you like this was the most exciting thing to ever happen. You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, like you hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes freaking out about calling him.
“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, cringing at how awkward you sounded. “I just... wanted to see if you were ready for tomorrow’s study session.”
Lame. So, so lame.
Rafe chuckled softly. “You called me at night to ask about studying? I didn’t know I was that irresistible.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding. “Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron.”
He laughed again, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Too late. Anyway, I’m ready for tomorrow. Was studying really the reason you called?”
You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both nodding furiously, encouraging you to say something—anything that wasn’t study-related.
“Well... maybe not just that,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up again.
There was a pause on the other end, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, more serious. “I’m glad you called.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t sure what to say, so you just muttered, “Yeah, me too.”
There was another moment of silence, like you were both trying to figure out what to say next.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Rafe said, his voice a little lower, almost... warmer? “Night.”
“Night,” you replied, and then the call ended.
You dropped your phone onto the couch, staring at it like it had just turned into a bomb.
Harper squealed. “He picked up right away! And he was flirty! Oh my God, he likes you!”
Ava clapped her hands, bouncing on the couch. “I knew it! He’s totally into you. Nevermind what we said earlier. Rafe Cameron is into you. We were wrong. Scratch the whole 'he’s just messing with your head' thing. He’s definitely catching feelings.”
You scowled, “Where’s your backbone? Five minutes ago, you were all, ‘Rafe’s trouble, don’t fall for it,’ and now you’re practically shipping us?”
Harper shrugged, unapologetic. “Yeah, but that was before he picked up right away and sounded all soft. That’s different, babe.”
“Exactly!” Ava chimed in. “Nate who?”
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. He’s... safe. And uncomplicated. Why am I even entertaining this idea of Rafe?”
Harper raised an eyebrow. “Because safe doesn’t make your heart race. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you stay up all night overthinking. If you were so into Nate, you wouldn’t be calling Rafe at night. Or letting him kiss you!”
You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. They had a point, as annoying as it was. Nate might’ve been the goal, but Rafe was what had your head spinning. You groaned again, flopping back against the couch.
Sure, maybe he’d been acting a little off lately. Like, sometimes he’d actually ask you how your day was or show up when he knew you’d be around. You didn’t think much of it, though. That’s just how it was with guys like Rafe—he probably wanted something, or maybe he was just bored.
You huffed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “It’s just so stupid. He’s Rafe. He’s... ugh, he’s complicated, and I don’t even know if he’s serious, or if he’s just bored, or what. And now I’ve kissed him, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and—”
“And now you’re realizing that maybe Nate isn’t what you really want after all,” Harper finished.
You sighed, hugging a pillow to your chest. “What am I supposed to do now?”
He’d flirt, he’d flash that stupid grin, and then he’d move on like nothing ever happened. Why would you be different?
“Easy. You figure out what you want. Not what Nate wants, not what Rafe wants. You. And until then, just... enjoy. No one said you had to decide everything right now.”
Harper nodded in agreement, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze.
“Yeah. Take it slow. And for tonight, let’s just not overthinking every little thing, okay?”
Yet, you thought about him all night. You’d seen the way he treated other girls. He’d throw them those lazy smiles, the ones that practically screamed I’ll forget your name by tomorrow, and it always seemed to work.
They all fell for it—why wouldn’t they? Rafe was good at getting what he wanted, and he never stuck around long enough for things to get messy. You? You were invisible up until recently. He only paid attention when he felt like pissing you off. Your friends had to be reading too much into things.
This was Rafe. The same Rafe who was impossible to figure out, who never took anything seriously—least of all you. There was no way he liked you.
But the next day came way too fast, and you were paying for it. Hard.
You groaned as you dragged yourself into the library, sunglasses on like they were going to somehow shield you from the pounding headache.
Harper and Ava had insisted on one more glass of wine, which of course, turned into two. And now, you were here, praying Rafe wouldn’t notice that you felt like death.
As you slumped into the chair across from him, he immediately raised an eyebrow, “Rough night?”
You gave him a look, your head already throbbing too much for his sarcasm. “Don’t even start, Cameron.”
He leaned back in his chair, eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your state. “Wow, I can smell the regret from here. You look like you partied with a bottle of tequila and lost.”
You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It was wine, thank you very much. And yeah, it was a little too much.”
He chuckled softly, flipping open his notebook. “A little? You look like you just survived a war zone. Was the study session that boring to look forward to?”
“Ha ha, so funny,” you muttered, wincing as you reached for your bag. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Barely.” He tilted his head, clearly enjoying every second of it. “I’m impressed you made it at all. Should I have brought a bucket? You know, just in case?”
You glared at him from behind your sunglasses. “I hate you so much right now.”
Rafe just grinned, unfazed. “Trust me, it’s mutual. But seriously, you need water or something? You’re about two seconds away from face-planting on that table.”
You bit your lip, knowing he was right but not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Still, your mouth felt like a desert, and the thought of anything cold and hydrating sounded like heaven.
“Maybe… a coffee?”
“Have you eaten?”
“Huh? No?”
“You’re not drinking coffee before you eat.”
You squinted at him, thoroughly annoyed. “Rafe, I’m hungover, not five years old.”
He just raised an eyebrow, clearly not swayed.
“Hungover means your brain’s working even worse than normal, so yeah, I’m pulling the adult card here. You need food before coffee.”
You rolled your eyes, regretting it instantly as your head throbbed harder. “Fine. I’ll get food after the coffee.”
He shook his head, already getting up. “Nope. I’m grabbing you a bagel or something.”
“Rafe, seriously—” you started, but he was already walking away, not even bothering to let you finish.
You slumped back in your chair, groaning under your breath. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You hadn’t eaten anything since last night, and your stomach was twisting in a way that wasn’t just from the hangover. But it was so typical of him to boss you around, like he knew what was best for you. He seemed almost too serious about all this, like it wasn’t just about breakfast or caffeine. Was he actually… worried?
He was being so over-the-top about something so simple. Maybe he noticed things you didn’t even realize were slipping—how little you’d been eating, how tired you always seemed. You didn’t want him to worry, to get so wrapped up in how you were doing. But the fact that he did…
Rafe returned, dropping a bagel in front of you. “Eat. Then you can have your coffee.”
You blinked at the bagel, caught off guard. “You actually got me food?”
He gave you a look. “You really thought I wouldn’t? What kind of person do you think I am?”
“A pain in my ass?” you muttered, but there was no real bite to it. You unwrapped the bagel, taking a cautious bite, and, annoyingly, it actually helped. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome. Now, once you finish that, we’ll get started on actual studying. You might wanna take those sunglasses off too. It’s not that bright in here.”
“Stop being so smug about it,” you grumbled, but you took another bite of the bagel, your headache easing just a little.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching out like he owned the place.
“Hey, if you’re gonna drink like that, you should at least have someone who can take care of you after.”
There was something about the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat. “Is this your way of saying you care?”
“Eat your bagel.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your chest. Why was he always like this? One minute he was the biggest pain, and the next, he was sweet? You took another bite of the bagel, trying to ignore the way his comment made your stomach do a weird little flip.
Rafe just watched you, arms crossed, looking smug as ever. "I'm not saying anything," he teased, leaning forward slightly. "But you did call me last night."
You nearly choked on your bagel. "That was for studying!"
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin. "Oh, right. You totally call guys at night to talk about history."
You threw a balled-up napkin at him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Don't start with me, Cameron. You texted me first!"
"Fair enough," He caught the napkin effortlessly, still grinning, like teasing you was the highlight of his day. He was holding his hands up in surrender, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. "Don’t know if it’s the kiss or maybe you’re just starting to realize I'm not all bad."
You scoffed, trying to brush off how much that actually hit home.
"Please. You're still an entitled jerk, Rafe. One kiss doesn’t change that."
But the truth was, maybe it did change something. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since. And now, sitting here with him being all unexpectedly considerate, it was getting harder to pretend like there wasn’t something going on.
“So it hasn’t been keeping you up at night?”
“Why would it? It was just a kiss. Happens all the time, right?”
His smirk widen, “So I didn’t get your panties in a twist?”
You were going to throw a book at his face.
"You’re so full of yourself," you muttered, trying to act unbothered, but your pulse quickened.
Rafe leaned in a little closer, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m just saying, it seemed like more than ‘just a kiss’ with the way you keep getting flustered. You sure it didn’t mean anything?”
You narrowed your eyes, determined not to give him the satisfaction.
“What do you want me to say, Rafe? That I’m totally falling for you? That I can’t stop thinking about the kiss? Because that’s not happening.”
He chuckled softly, leaning back again, but something shifted in his expression. He was still teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity now, almost like he was testing the waters.
“Good to know. Guess I’ll just keep doing my thing then.”
“Your thing? What, being an annoying, arrogant jerk?” you shot back, though there was less bite in your tone than usual.
Rafe’s lips twitched, “I’d hate to think I’m keeping you up at night.”
Ugh. Why was he like this? Why was this working on you?
You rolled your eyes, trying to stay focused on the whole reason you were here in the first place: studying, Nate, anything but this. But the way Rafe was looking at you right now, like he could see through all the walls you put up... yeah, it was messing with your head again.
"Can we just study now?" you grumbled, flipping open your textbook, praying the conversation would shift before your cheeks got any redder. "I didn’t drag myself here to talk about your ridiculous fantasies."
His grin softened into something more genuine, and he shook his head, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. Let’s get started before your brain melts from that hangover.”
But as you pulled out your notes, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered just a little too long. And worse, you knew your heart was doing the same—stupid fluttering and all.
There was something about this back-and-forth with him that was starting to feel... different. And maybe, just maybe, that scared you more than you were willing to admit.
As the two of you dove into the study session, you tried—really tried—to focus on the material in front of you. But every time he leaned in a little closer or cracked a joke that made you roll your eyes, your mind wandered back to that kiss. To the way he looked at you when no one else was around. To the fact that, as much as you hated to admit it, Rafe Cameron was making you feel something you hadn’t expected.
“Do you remember that bonfire when we were sixteen?” he asked all of a sudden.
You raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment. “Which one? There were like, a million bonfires.”
“The one where you dumped your drink in my face.”
Your hand froze halfway to your mouth. Oh. That bonfire. It felt like a lifetime ago, but the memory came rushing back, clear as day.
“I can’t believe you remember that.”
Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, it’s not exactly something you forget. One minute I was talking to you, and the next, I was soaking wet with a face full of—what was it? Lemonade?”
“Spiked lemonade,” you corrected, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “You deserved it.”
“Deserved it?” he echoed, leaning forward, clearly enjoying this trip down memory lane. “I asked if you wanted to hang out by the water. How’s that deserving a drink to the face?”
You rolled your eyes, feeling the old annoyance bubble up again. “You asked me to hang out after you and your friends had spent the whole night making fun of me."
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, maybe we were a little rough back then. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to be a dick that night.”
“You were always a dick,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind your words. Sixteen-year-old you had despised him and his cocky attitude.
He smirked, “You were so pissed off. Your face was all red, and you were shaking with anger, like you couldn’t believe I’d even dared to speak to you.”
“You had it coming.”
“I probably did,” he agreed, a softer look crossing his face. “But I remember thinking, even back then, you were different. You didn’t take shit from anyone.”
You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. “Wait, are you actually complimenting me right now? What is happening?”
Rafe just grinned, leaning back again, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “I’m just saying, you’ve always had more fight in you.”
Your stomach did that weird little flip again, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the crumbs left on the table. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such an ass, I wouldn’t have had to.”
“I think that’s why I liked messing with you so much.” His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “You always pushed back.”
You bit your lip, not sure how to respond to that. The Rafe you remembered from back then was all arrogance and teasing, but this... this was different. It was like he was admitting that he’d seen you in a way no one else had back then.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching cut your conversation short. You glanced up, thinking it might just be another student passing by, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Nate walking toward you and Rafe.
Rafe’s smirk faded instantly when he spotted him approaching.
“Hey,” Nate greeted with a casual smile, though his eyes flicked quickly between you and Rafe, “Didn’t know you guys studied here too.”
You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal even though your brain was racing. “Yeah, uh, just catching up on some work.”
Nate’s smile wavered slightly as his gaze lingered on Rafe, then back to you. “Mind if I join? I was just gonna find a spot to get some work done, but...” His voice trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.
For a second, you were torn. Nate was here, right in front of you—the guy you’d been chasing for months, the one who was supposed to be the plan. But Rafe was sitting across from you.
He leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms with that signature smirk creeping back onto his face. “Yeah, sure, the more, the merrier.”
You shot him a look, silently pleading with him not to make this worse, but he just raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the situation.
Nate pulled out a chair, setting his bag down, “What’re you working on?” he asked, glancing between you and Rafe.
Before you could answer, Rafe spoke up, again, “Just a little review. Nothing too complicated, right?” His eyes flicked to you, daring you to answer.
You swallowed hard, feeling both their gazes on you. “Yeah, just going over some notes. We’re almost done, actually.”
Nate’s eyes lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than necessary, like he was sizing him up. “Right. Cool. I guess I’ll just... grab a spot over there.”
“You do that.”
“Rafe.” you grumbled under your breath, kicking him under the table.
"You wanna grab lunch after? I was gonna head to that new sandwich place, and figured you might want to come."
For a split second, you hesitated. Lunch with Nate was the safe, easy option—exactly what you’d been trying to hold onto. But the way Rafe was watching you now... Nate’s invitation wasn’t just about lunch. It was a claim, a reminder that he was the one you were supposed to be into.
"I, um—” you started, but the words were stuck in your throat.
You’d just spent the last half hour trying to convince yourself that Rafe didn’t matter. That this whole thing with him wasn’t a big deal. But now, with Nate standing right here, it felt like your brain was short-circuiting.
Rafe stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Well, looks like you’ve got plans," he said, his voice flat. He glanced at you, before grabbing his notebook. "Catch you later, I guess."
Before you could say anything, he walked away, his footsteps heavy as he left the library. You stared after him, your heart doing this weird thing where it felt like it was both racing and sinking at the same time.
Nate raised an eyebrow, watching Rafe go. "That guy’s... intense," he said, his tone light, but you could tell he was fishing for something.
You forced a smile, "Yeah, that’s Rafe for you."
But even as you said it, your mind wasn’t on Nate. It was still stuck on Rafe—on the way he’d looked at you before he left, like maybe he’d been hoping you wouldn’t just go along with Nate’s plan. Like maybe he’d wanted you to choose something different.
"So, lunch?" Nate asked again, his smile back in place, but it didn’t feel the same. Not anymore.
You swallowed hard, nodding automatically. “Sure, lunch sounds good.”
But as you followed him out of the library, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that you’d just walked away from something important.
344 notes
·
View notes
You’re Mine, Sunshine
♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?
♡ Warnings: mentions of amputation, light angst, hints to violence, mentions of death, bucky being a grumpy man
Part 2
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!AU Bodyguard!AU
“Mr. Barnes, your résumé so far is quite impressive.” Pierce acknowledged with a slow nod.
Bucky of course had a trained eye, but the glares that were not so subtly sent his way by the big boss— were intimidating. He wasn’t scared, no. He simply respected this man’s power. Bucky knew better than to get on the bad side of someone like Pierce.
“Says here you’re an amputee?” Pierce asked so bluntly, and he noticed Bucky’s eyes squint slightly. “Sorry, if I’m overstepping but nothing will be overlooked.”
“It’s not a problem, sir.” Bucky assured him. “Yes, I lost my left arm during a mission way back.”
Pierce furrowed his brows.
“Mission? I take it you used to be an agent of some sort.” He assumed.
Bucky nodded.
“Hm, very good. Continue.” He waved him on.
“I had some surgical procedures— and now I have a prosthetic.”
Bucky lifted his left arm, rolling his sleeve slightly up to expose the metal to the boss. Pierce hummed impressively, taking in the intricate designs on the metal.
“I can assure you that me having a prosthetic will not be an issue— my arm is made out of only the strongest metal. Bullet proof, in fact.” He added, hoping it would further impress the boss, proving just how perfect for the job he was.
It wasn’t his dream to be a bodyguard, actually it was quite a low in his career— if you asked him. He had fallen out of his previous steady job, due to some complications. He had the experience of being a bodyguard— just not for only one person. It would be a weird change for him, but he was willing to take on the challenge. Also, the pay was nice.
Pierce hummed again, the information that his prosthetic arm was bullet proof— only satisfying him more.
“Like I said, impressive Mr. Barnes. But this is an extremely important task. My only daughter, who must be protected at all costs.” Pierce trailed off, expression growing serious. “It’s been a hard adjustment since the passing of my wife, my daughter is all I have left.”
Bucky nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like to lose loved ones. In fact, that wound was still fresh on him.
“If I allow you to take on this role, you are to swear to yourself that you will do whatever it takes to keep her alive— no matter what.” Pierce spoke loudly, his voice orotund.
Bucky in the back of his mind thought about his choice of words. ‘If I allow you.’ Bucky respected this man, but he had to hold back the scoff that threatened to escape his lips at his statement.
“Do you think you’re ready for that?” Pierce challenged, and suddenly it wasn’t about his daughter at all. It was a man challenging another man, a task that he deemed impossible.
His metal hand behind his back whirred in annoyance. After all that fluffing his head up, complimenting his training. It was clear Pierce thought so little of him, and at that— it made Bucky wanna take the job even more. Just to prove him wrong.
“Yes sir.” Bucky promised, shaking Pierces hand in a firm— slightly aggressive shake.
Pierce smiled, dropping Bucky’s résumé on his desk. Getting himself comfortable, he sat on the edge of the front of the desk, crossing his arms.
“Now, let’s go through what is to be expected.” He started, Bucky nodded for him to continue. “You are to be with her at all times, except for when you sleep. You do sleep right?”
Bucky let the scoff escape this time, but it wasn’t as aggressive as he wanted it to be.
“I’ve got a metal arm, but I’m still human sir.”
Pierce chuckled to himself, and Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. This man thinks he’s so funny.
“Right. You must never let her leave your sight, if she wants to see her friends— you’ll be seeing them with her. Not that it’s going to be an issue, I don’t think she has many friends… or any.” The boss shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about his daughter.
Bucky nodded, taking everything in.
“You are going to be staying with her in the safe house… well— she thinks it’s just a house but the area is guarded with my men.” He shrugged again. “I’m a successful man and with that comes enemies, people who look for my weaknesses. You know that.”
Bucky gave a tight lipped smile, Pierce so far sounding like a father of the year.
“Now, about my daughter. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/L/n), and she is a handful.” Pierce stated frustratedly. “She’s rude, ungrateful, nasty— and just overall extremely difficult.”
Bucky furrowed his brows, rethinking his decision to be a bodyguard for this girl. Fucking lovely.
“You can now understand why I’m paying you the offered amount. It’s only fair to you, Mr. Barnes. Truthfully, I can’t deal with her anymore. I love her, and she’s my daughter but… It just doesn’t work out with me. I’m a busy man— I don’t have time for brats.” Pierce spat, straightening up and heading back around his desk.
Bucky had already been creating this mental image of you, so far you sounded like a witch. He was not at all ready to be dealing with you 24/7.
“Doesn’t sound like a problem boss, I’m happy to be protecting your daughter. Nobody will lay a hair on her head, I swear on my life.” Bucky promised again, bowing his head slightly.
“Oh I know. If anything happens to her and I find out you were slacking even by an inch… well you’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Pierce warned, and Bucky swallowed at the mere intimidation that laced his voice.
But he would not back down to this challenge, which is how he saw this— not a job.
“That will be all Mr. Barnes, (Y/n) is around here somewhere. Find her and take her home.” He told Bucky, putting on his glasses— focusing on his paperwork.
“Yes sir.”
Bucky nodded and turned to exit the room. He was so confused with the interaction. You’d think someone who hires a bodyguard for their daughter would know where their daughter is. The way he spoke about you was off putting. Bucky didn’t even know you, but it felt wrong to hear someone talk so little about you. What did he know anyway— apparently you were a monster.
He made his way through the building with a swift walk, needing to fulfill his duties and find you quickly. He was on the third floor, about to hit the button to the elevator when he saw a young lady. Despite him wanting to find you all on his own, he got her attention.
“Excuse me,” He waved to her with a fake smile, “Do you know where I can find (Y/n) (Y/L/n)?”
The lady smiled and took Bucky by surprise by laughing. His fake smile vanished immediately, his eyes squinting in a annoyed expression.
“That would be me!” You exclaimed with a warm smile.
Bucky’s eyes widened and he thought for a second he was being fucked with, but after you stayed smiling at him, being as patient as ever— he knew you weren’t joking.
“Uh right… Your dad is Pierce?” He asked hesitantly, keeping his guard up. Still thinking someone was messing with him— testing him.
You nodded slowly, giving him a curious expression. Your smile never wavering.
“Yes, and you are?” You asked so politely.
Bucky shouldn’t of been as shocked as he was but truthfully, he was expecting a demon spawn of a person. Red eyes, withered flowers left in your path, a literal storm cloud floating over you— but you looked so normal. So sweet and pretty. Your hair smelled so strongly of strawberry shampoo, he could catch the scent from his spot. Your voice was like honey, the sound soothing.
He was confused as to why your father thought so wrongly of you. He had too many questions.
He cleared his throat, straightening himself now that he believed you were who he was looking for.
“(Y/n), my name is Mr. Barnes— I’ve been hired as your personal bodyguard.” He informed you, watching the corners of your mouth falter slightly.
“Oh, did my Father hire you?” You asked politely.
“Yes ma’am.”
You nodded your head, attempting to keep a smile on your face. But you couldn’t help the distaste for being given a bodyguard. You knew it was only for the sole purpose, that your Father didn’t want to care for you anymore. He wanted nothing to do with you. That fact was enough to make your nose start to burn, but you held yourself together— not wanting to break down in front of this new guy.
Bucky watched you take in the information, the way you took a deep breath, almost controlling yourself before you spoke again.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Barnes. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.” You told him.
Bucky shook his head, an annoyed expression etching his face.
“Ma’am, I think we should keep things professional. I have been hired as your bodyguard. Let me do my job, and you can continue with your day as usual. You won’t even know I’m here half the time.” He explained rather harshly.
You seemed taken aback, his words hurting you more than they should’ve. You were lonely, and you thought you’d be able to get a friend out of this situation. Even if he was being hired to hang around you. Luck didn’t seem to be on your side as he told you off. The burning felt stronger in your nose, and you took another deep breath.
Bucky only felt bad for a second, but he was quickly snapping back to reality. It was his life on the line to protect you, and if Bucky was anything— it was that he was good at doing his job. This was business, not playtime.
“I’m here to take you home. Are you ready?” He asked you.
You relaxed your quick beating heart, not even having time to speak with your Father. Not that he’d want to anyway. So much had changed since your Mother passed, you had yet to heal those wounds.
You nodded with a weaker smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. If Bucky had noticed your sudden mood change, he didn’t mention it— instead guiding you outside.
He opened the door to the car that was waiting outside for you, climbing in himself after you were settled.
He started driving to your place, with the help of the car telling him directions.
Meanwhile you gazed out the window, watching the buildings pass by. You forced yourself to keep a small smile on your face, hoping you’d convince yourself that the gesture was genuine if you did it long enough.
Bucky glanced back at you through the rear view mirror from time to time, watching you look out the window. He was still trying to come to terms with how polite you were, how completely opposite you were to your Fathers description.
On one hand it was a relief that he didn’t have to deal with the devil. On the other hand… he was anxious to see where this job would lead him.
A/N: I don’t know what is wrong with me, but suddenly I had this urge to write a bodyguard!bucky fic. let’s be honest, we are all slut’s for bodyguard!bucky 😭 I’m also a whore for the trope grumpy x sunshine 🥰🥴 let me know what you think— this is all word vomit.
5K notes
·
View notes