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#send me your casting choices
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I have a big google doc thing where I keep track of media and stuff (putting everything in loosely ranked categories), which is mostly just for my own reference so I know what tv shows I've already seen before, etc. and I never really look back through it, typically just a quick "okay, watched two movie in the past 8 months, need to quickly slap them somewhere in the lists. okay. done. save document. exit". But today I was actually reading through some of the old notes and there are like... MULTIPLE places where my comment is basically "It would have been good if it were about elves" or "I wish there was a fantasy show made in this same style" or "It's well made, but I just keep thinking about how I would like it more if everyone was an elf or was in old 1700s costumes" or etc like...... lol.... Most biased media ranking system on earth blatantly made by someone with an extremely hyperspecific range of narrow interests. It'd be like if a food reviewer only had 5 foods they actually liked, so they'd just go to a pizza place and be like "eh, the pizza was okay, but I just think it would be better if it was cereal instead. :/ ...2 out of 10"
#Which.. I mean... I am allowed to be biased because literally it's just for my own personal reference (or occasionall#y to send to friends or something if we're discussing the topic) so like.. nowhere am I saying 'I am the god of perfect taste and these#rankings are objectively the absolute truth and everyone should have my same opinion' or anything#BUT still.. it's funny to me sometimes#'Succession would be 100x better if it had the same cast/character quirks and shaky camera style and#acting choices/weird dialogue and general concept etc. EXCEPT it takes place within an elven noble family or something#managing the family business and everyone is in fantasy costumes now'' like.....okay...... but it's NOT that way..soo... thats not the show#''I like the acting style/general tone of Fleabag but i don't care for any of the characters or any of the subject matter and I wish it was#set in the 1800s and had vampires and was about magic instead'' okay..... again... you are making up an entirely new show in that case lol#OR my other beloved typical complaint ''The concept is good but theres too much plot and action and not enough people just sitting#around doing nothing and exposition dumping world and character lore'' ''this needs more goofy sideplots and filler episodes''#''this Drama was too dramatic I think it should be more lighthearted & people need to sit around doing nothing just being weird more often'#''the Action Movie was ok except for the action scenes - which I skipped through all of- but I liked the costumes and worldbuilding'' etc.#ERM sorry your plot has too much plot. also elves have to be included somehow. bye#BUT SERIOUSLY!!!!!! I literally genuinely believe that any show I like (or even dislike) could ALWAYS be improved greatly by#putting people in fantasy or historical costume/setting/etc... why the FUNK would I want to see bland jeans and cars and cell phones#when I could see elaborate velvet cloaks and fantastical landscapes and interior design and innovative takes on historical or#magical technology or etc. etc. etc. I LIVE in the modern day. I see it all the time!!! BORING! stinky!! boo!!!#ANYWAY... another social divide for me.. People love to bond by discussing media. which is hard when I'm like#'I literally will not watch something at all unless it fits into one of these 10 extremely specific categories which are all i care about i#the entire world''.. I say this and yet I still dislike most fantasy or historical things I've watched lol. ok TWO main criteria then!!#it must 1. be in a different world or time period. 2. be goofy silly. Nothing ever has BOTH. It's always overly serious boring drama action#fantasy/history stuff OR it's comedic lighthearted but with modern day characters... WHY.. anguish and woe and so on..#ANYWAY jhjnk... at least I can make that divide. Some people seem to project their own personal preferences and get really emotionally#defensive if you say you didn't like something - as if the fact that they DO like it is some Objective Truth or something rather than just#opinion/preference based. I can still easily say ''this is well made/well written/acted/good in a technical sense/has a lot of#points of appeal that most people would be drawn to/etc'' and admit that it's a GOOD show probably. I just PERSONALLY think its#bad because my tastes are very narrow. Some things ARE actually made badly but. things are not bad INHERENTLY just bc they dont suit ME lol#Better to recognize/accept whats odd about you and be peacefully aware of it than just being mad at everyone all the time for not fully#agreeing with you even when you're the one with the Weird opinion in that case lol.. I am right though :3 but.. lol... still. i get it
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corroded-hellfire · 3 months
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Summary: You help Eric through an anxiety attack
Note: Obsessed with Eric and I need to protect him from the world, please and thank you. Also, Frodo divider created by me 😊
Warnings: anxiety, panic
Words: 1.5k
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The carved out hull of the decimated subway car offers little in the way of protection, but with the power out it seems likely not to cause any unwarranted noise. 
Eric ushers you in before himself, the light from the fluorescents of the station giving the two of you just enough to see by. The seats and bent handrails cast gruesome shadows across the small space, and you decide to take advantage of one particularly large pocket of darkness in the corner. 
Your back presses up against the cool metal, dented from God only knows what. Slowly, you slide down to the floor and Eric lowers himself down beside you. Both of you are caked with dirt and there’s blood smeared against one leg of your jeans. Luckily, it doesn’t seem to belong to either one of you. 
A steady stream of water is somewhere near, the comforting sound letting you breathe just a little easier. Eric must feel the same because he dares to lean in towards you and speak softly.
“Are you okay?”
Never did that seem more complex of a question. You’re not okay in the grand scheme of things, but you’re currently still alive and, for the most part, unharmed. 
“I think so,” you whisper in reply. “Are you?”
Eric nods, rubbing his hands up and down his shins, the worn brown material wearing even thinner in a few spots now. 
The two of you were fortunate to run into one another in an alleyway between two buildings—the only stroke of luck either of you have had lately. A natural ease quickly proved that you worked well together and seeing as neither of you wanted to be alone, the choice was obvious. 
Even though it’s only been roughly twenty-four hours since you’ve met, with all you’ve been through in that time, it feels as if you’ve known Eric for ages. There was no denying how cute he was either, but your brain barely had time for fleeting thoughts like that when your focus is on staying alive. 
“How’s your hand?” Eric asks.
You look at the offending appendage, purple from bruising, slightly swollen, and throbbing. Though, it’s slightly better since you’d found that bodega and swiped all the Tylenol and ibuprofen they had. 
During the initial chaos of the invasion—is that what to call it? —your back was up against the brick wall of an apartment building and a man was sent hurtling in the air towards you. Your hand had the misfortune to get crushed between the high velocity man and the brick wall. Ever since you’ve met Eric, he’s been helping you wrap your hand and always checking in on it. 
“It’s sore,” you admit. 
“Let me see?” Eric extends his hand.
Taking a deep breath, you place your injured hand in his. 
Warm, calloused fingers undo the binding currently covering the wound and toss them to the subway floor. It feels nice to let your hand breathe a bit, get some air. With just a featherlight touch, Eric traces his index finger around the mottled skin. The delicate touch sends goosebumps up your arm. If he notices them, he doesn’t say. 
A sense of disappointment fills your gut when he releases your hand to get fresh bandages. You chew on your chapped bottom lip as you watch Eric rummage through the Phantom of the Opera tote bag you’d snagged from one of those tourist gift shops. 
He sprays a bit of disinfectant spray on your hand, the mist feeling doubly cold after having the warmth of his large hand enveloping yours. Next comes a fresh bandage. Eric always applies them so carefully, making sure it’s not too tight but gives your hand some support. You watch him as he works, your eyes taking in the small details of his face while he’s busy focusing on something else.
His dark eyelashes are so long that they kiss his cheeks with every blink. The curls on the top of his head are messy from everything they’ve been through, but it’s unkempt in a charming way. It amazes you how dry his lips are from dehydration, yet they still look so pink and inviting. 
Eric secures the bandage on your hand, and you momentarily move on to admiring the color and depth of his eyes when you realize he’s finished and no longer distracted. 
Heat comes to your face, so you lift your injury up to inspect it, hoping to give you a minute to cool down. 
“Thank you,” you whisper when you lay your hand back down in your lap. 
“Of course.”
The good thing about needing to keep quiet during all of this is that none of the silences could be interpreted as awkward. It’s just self-preservation. 
It goes on that way for about ten minutes before you feel your head get heavy and decide to lean it against Eric’s shoulder. It’s not long before he gently rests his head on top of yours. Despite the circumstances around you, a small smile grows on your lips.
But your peace doesn’t last long. A groaning of metal and the now too-familiar skittering of legs or pincers or whatever they’re called. 
By the sound of it, you guess that the creature is coming from your left, somewhere down the subway track. But there’s no reason for it to know you’re here. As long as you can remain quiet, the monster should just pass you by without trouble. 
A hitch in breath from beside you grabs your attention though. Your head jerks in the direction of Eric to find his breathing speed up and his eyes widen in that recognizable panic. 
Pressing one hand to his shoulder, you get his attention and his head whips to face you. With your other, injured hand, you hold up a finger to your mouth for him to stay quiet.
Eric nods but the rate of his breathing only increases. You shake your head and lean in towards him. 
“Breathe.” The words could barely be considered a full whisper. 
You’ve helped him through these anxiety attacks a few times now so you try to tell yourself you can do it again. You can’t blame the poor guy for being so scared, either. 
The clicking of the approaching monster comes closer then stops. It feels as if time pauses while you wait to see what will happen now. 
Smashing the play button, the creature falls from where it must have been crawling on the ceiling, to land on the subway platform.
Eric jumps and you see his teeth clench together as he tries to keep the panic at bay. 
Step by crunching step, the being stalks closer to your subway car. Even though it can’t see you, instinct tells you to get further out of sight.
As silently as possible, you scoot over so there’s enough room for you to lay flat on the floor of the car. Eric glances down at you and you motion for him to do the same. He gives you a quick nod and with shaking hands, moves to lay down next to you.
Within the cramped space it’s hard for two adults to lay flat, side by side, so Eric ends up on his side, facing you. If you turned your head to look at him, your noses would brush. 
One long black limb stretches out from the creature and crushes a piece of metal right outside your car—probably the remains of an adjoining car. 
Eric’s anxiety spikes again and before you can think about it, you wrap your arm around his shoulders and bring his body down on top of yours. 
It’s not the most comfortable angle for either of you, almost awkward. But Eric wastes no time grabbing onto your waist, his head falling to the juncture between your neck and shoulder. 
Consciously, you slow your breathing down in hopes that Eric’s will follow your lead. 
Another crunch of metal rents the air and you both jump, clinging tighter to one another. Eric’s grip on your body changed positions slightly, and now his head is resting right over your heart. 
You glance down and watch as Eric visibly calms. He takes a few deep breaths and lets his eyes slip closed as he lays against you. 
It takes you a few moments to realize what caused the change. Eric’s head is on its side, his right ear directly over your heart. He’s listening to your heartbeat. And it’s calming him. The thought alone makes your heart rate speed up. 
Slowly, you reach up and gently rest your hand in his hair. He tilts his chin up so he can see your face and you give him a small smile. The one he gives you in return brings forward the confidence to begin running your fingers through Eric’s soft curls. 
The two of you stay that way, listening as the creature moves farther and farther away, until you can’t hear it at all anymore.
But even then, after the immediate threat is gone and everything seems peaceful and calm around you, you both still stay that way. His hands holding onto your body, his head over your heart, and you carding your fingers through his curls. 
Maybe this subway car is a better place to be than you originally thought. 
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mariasont · 4 months
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Give This Old Man a Heart Attack - A.H
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a/n: incredibly self-indulgent per usual because i'm the biggest cry baby to ever exist
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: you make a mistake that almost gets you killed and hotch has a few choice words about it
warnings: slight angst, happy endings, established relationship, you're in trouble, suggestive ending nothing crazy, hotch is a sucker and gives in way too easily to you
wc: 0.9k
You were an idiot. You were so utterly stupid, and you could feel the heat coursing through you, prickling at your fingertips and scorching your ears. You had braced yourself for this moment all day, but the sheer anger in Hotch's eyes was something no amount of bracing could shield you from.
You were quite accustomed to his eerily tranquil expression, often misleading, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Today though, you were the focus of that discerning stare. 
"Do you understand that gravity of your actions today?"
You were fighting every urge to cry. Confrontation had always been your Achillies' heel, a fact that seemed laughable given your line of work.
You weren't talking about the type of confrontation that came with gunning down unsubs or running into burning buildings. No, it was the intimate kind, the kind that involved the disappointment in the eyes of those you cared about, those you respected, especially him.
So here you stood, tears simmering at the edges of your vision, your hands fidgeting and folding over themselves, knuckles whitening with the pressure.
Your lips parted, ready to speak, to defend yourself, but the rising lump in your throat held the words captive. Silence seemed like the better choice, so you offered a nod instead.
Hotch's hand briefly obscured his face, thumb and middle finger pressing against the bridge of his nose, as he cast a handful of documents onto his desk. They landed haphazardly, a chaotic reflection of the mistakes you made on this case.
"You could've gotten killed." Each word was forced out between clenched teeth. Never a good sign. "In fact, you were this close."
You felt his assessment was inflated, but now was definitely not the right time to point that out. You swallowed the rising retort and cautiously shifted a fraction closer to the desk, eyes flicking to the closed door behind you.
"I'm sorry, Aaron," you said softly, voice betraying the slightest fracture. "It won't happen again."
The sound of your strained syllables caused his head to jerk up. Contrarily, you recoiled, bowing your head into your chest as you feigned interested in the carpet's intricate threads. It was an interesting color. 
You failed to register him circling the desk. Not until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. The toe of his shoes just within your field of view. They were semi-brogue oxfords. His favorite.
The accumulated emotions of the week finally broke through, your shoulders trembling as you frantically brushed away the mortifying tears with your sleeve, only to feel his hands on your shoulders, drawing you into his chest.
"No, no," you protested, but the resistance in your voice was absent in your actions, as you found yourself easily giving into the warmth of his chest. "Don't feel bad for me just because I'm crying."
He said nothing, just a faint hum that filled the space, the vibrations sending ripples across your cheek. 
"You—, you were reprimanding me," you paused to sniffle, "and I deserve to be reprimanded. I know what I did was stupid."
"It was." His hand lay on your back, thumb circling lightly through your dress shirt, nearly burning through the fabric. "But I'm not going to continue to berate you when I feel as though you've learned your lesson."
"You weren't berating me," you mumble against his shirt.
"I made you cry."
When you looked up, your saw the concern etched on his face, brows pinched, a frown marring his handsome face. His hands cradled your face, thumbs gently clearing the tears as you breathed out a sigh.
"I think you know me well enough to know that it doesn't take much to make me cry."
This was true. You kept your emotions were always close to the surface, whether from happiness, sadness, or sheer frustration. 
Once you had sobbed over the unequal lengths of your shoelace bows. Morgan then proceeded to ask if you had ever been tested for autism.
"It doesn't make it any more disheartening to see," he said, shifting his hands to rest on your shoulders. He looked tired and it made you want to cry all over again.
"Would you feel that way if I was Reid?" You asked. It was a loaded question. One you peppered him with often.
You had strived to draw clear lines between your professional and personal lives, but moments like this made it very difficult. 
He didn't even bother you with a response, and he didn't need to. You knew the answer.
Another quick look over your shoulder, and you pressed a swift kiss to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation from him, the stickler for rules that he is, but soon his restraint gave way, his hand seeking you with a desperate intensity.
He drew back just enough to study your face, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, like he was making sure you were really there.
"You really scared me today," he confessed, your foreheads resting together as your eyes locked.
"I know."
"Please don't do that again," he implored, pausing only to plant another quick kiss on your upper lip. "This old man's heart can only take so much."
You beamed at him with a cheeky smile. "I can't make any guarantees."
As you headed for the door, he sent a quick slap to your ass, drawing out a bubbly giggle that vibrated through the room.
That old man's heart definitely might give out after what you had planned for tonight.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
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girlrotterr · 6 months
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But I'm a lesbian!
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ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: inspired by the movie, "but i'm a cheerleader" !! Did my own little spin on it. (This may have a part two!)
→ Part two! → Part three! → Part four! → Part five!  → Part six!
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Forced to a camp known as "True Directions," your arrival was no choice of your own. Your parents, upon discovering your sexuality, had made the decision to send you there. As you followed your guide towards the dormitories, someone caught your eye—a girl with auburn hair, casually puffing on a cigarette.
Noticing your presence, the girl glanced up and rolled her eyes. Your guide gestured towards her, prompting her to approach you. Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "Ellie."
"Hello," you responded, your voice betraying your nerves as you shook her hand, noting its soft yet firm grip.
With a sigh, Ellie remarked, "they sent new meat here again, huh?" She took another drag from her cigarette, casting a judgmental gaze in your direction.
"I’m sure to be out of the way," you said, trying to sound confident. "I’ll pass every trial here to get back home."
A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Uh-huh..." she mused. “You’ll be here a while then."
“Ahem," the guide cleared her throat towards Ellie, who responded with an eye roll before retreating to her pink bed.  
"Very well then, I will leave you to unpack your things. This will be your dorm. You will share this space with three other roommates, feel free to report anything back to me," she said, her tall and commanding presence by her bouncing blond hair as she talked.
"Especially anything involving this one," she added, shooting a glance at Ellie. 
"Well," the guide grasped your arms, giving them a squeeze, "welcome to 'True Directions,' we'll fix you right up, dear!”
You gave a hesitant half-smile, trying to hide your discomfort. 
Returning your gesture with a bright smile, the guide nodded happily before leaving, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Silence. 
Clutching onto your suitcases, the silence became increasingly awkward, and you debated whether to speak up. Should you ask where to put your belongings? But the fear of annoying or bothering Ellie made you hesitant.
Fuck it.
"Um, excuse me, where can I—"
"There," Ellie interrupted, her tone nonchalant as she pointed toward a corner of the room, her gaze still not meeting yours.
Your eyes followed her gesture to an empty white dresser tucked away, starkly different from the others that were already occupied. Making your way towards the dresser, you took in the room once more. The overwhelming femininity was hard to ignore—pink walls, beds, and shelves adorned with stuffed animals. Setting your suitcase down with a thud, you unzipped it, the sound of the zipper echoing loudly in the silent room.
Opening the drawer, the scent of brand new furniture wafted across your nose, tickling it and nearly causing you to sneeze.
Ellie got up from her bed, pulling open her drawer with a tug. In it were an assortment of items—makeup, hair accessories, and jewelry jumbled together. Rummaging through it, Ellie let out a sharp exhale, finally finding something from the depths of the drawer.
Without a glance in your direction, she held out a ribbon and a few hair clips. "Here," she muttered.
Your eyes widened at the adorable accessories as she tossed them over to you. "Put your hair up or something. It's better not to have it in the way, especially during our routines.”
"Ah, thank you," you expressed, catching them. "Are these.. yours?"
"Yeah... unfortunately," Ellie responded dryly.
With a nod, you started to arrange your hair with the clips.
As you styled your hair, the weight of Ellie's gaze pressed against your back like a physical force. Every subtle movement you made was studied, from the way you lifted strands of hair to the careful twisting of the ribbon around the ponytail. Even the simple act of tucking a stray lock behind your ear felt intense.
What’s this girl's deal?
The intensity of her stare became almost suffocating, leaving your hands trembling slightly as you worked. Despite her focus only on your hair, the sensation of being under her gaze felt like she was peering into your soul.
Finally, Ellie broke the silence with a quiet, husky voice, her words cutting through the tension. "You need a mirror?"
Her gaze remained fixed on you, relentless.
"No," you managed to reply, attempting to be confident.
But the moment her voice echoed throughout the room, heat began rising to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but hesitate. Her presence felt overwhelming, a mix of nerves, fear, and desire swirling within you, all under her attention.
“Hm..” Ellie replied, seeming more curious now. She uncrossed her arms and slowly walked over to you. You could hear the way Ellie’s footsteps made the floor creak as she walked.
"Hm?" you managed to utter as Ellie closed in on you, her presence surrounding you with every step she took. The breath from her lips brushed against the nape of your neck as she leaned in.
"You're missing a strand," Ellie said, her voice softer than before.
The sensation of her being so close, her breath teasing your skin. You wanted to turn around and face her.
Her closeness was so overwhelming.
As Ellie's hand brushed against your hair, a sharp shiver coursed through your spine, setting your heartbeat into a quick rhythm. Her touch lingered, fingers twirling strands of your hair, as she leaned in even closer, so suffocatingly close. It felt as though Ellie was on the verge of whispering something, her breath agonizingly near-
"Yo, Ellie!"
The tension in the room broke as Dina and Abby burst in, causing Ellie to let go of your hair and step back.
Their expressions shifted abruptly from excitement to surprise as they noticed you. Dina's curious gaze looked over, her head tilting in confusion, while Abby's cold stare pierced through you.
"You must be the new one," Abby remarked, her tone icy, her eyes never leaving you as if dissecting your very being.
"Y-yeah.. I am," you responded, finally finishing your hair.
Abby simply nodded in acknowledgment, while Dina chuckled to herself.
"Aw, the new girl is all nervous!" Dina's teasing remark was followed by a smirk and a playful wave of her hand. She shifted her attention to Ellie, observing her growing annoyance. Dina seemed to catch on to something, finding the situation amusing.
"Ooooh! Ellie was hitting on ya!" Dina's snickering only added to Ellie's frustration as she clenched her jaw tightly, arms crossed.
Abby, maintaining her silent observation, continued to stare at the both of you.
"Ah! no..she was just helping me with my hair," you replied, attempting to stop the teasing.
"Awh. Is that so?" Dina's teasing tone persisted as she continued to giggle, her gaze towards Ellie who remained annoyed.
Abby's gaze suddenly shifted as she walked towards you, gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch was surprisingly tender.
"There," she remarked softly, a smile gracing her lips, the gesture catching you off guard. It was so unexpected. "You had missed a strand."
Abby looked back at Ellie, a smirk on her lips, her eyes flickering as she made a mocking glance with her.
Suddenly, the camp director barged in, her authoritative voice vibrating throughout the room. "Ladies!" she commanded, making all the girls snap their attention towards the door where the camp director now stood.
Ellie groaned as soon as she heard that familiar voice.
"All of you, get out for morning exercise," the director ordered, her stern gaze scanning everyone. "Now."
With a swift turn, the camp director walked out of the room, the echo of her clicking heels fading as she left. Abby, Dina, and Ellie all groaned in unison, knowing what was to come. They made their way to their designated dressers, preparing to change into their gym clothes.
Amidst the shuffling of clothing, you voiced your confusion. "W-what are we doing?"
Abby scoffed at your question, a smirk on her lips. "Did Ellie not go through the routines and rules with you?"
You shook your head.
"Not surprising," she remarked before chuckling, "she always seems to get distracted-"
“We're doing morning cardio and stretching routines,” Ellie cut in, her voice clear and assertive, pulling out her sports bra and short shorts. “Your gym clothes are in your dresser.”
Abby bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. "Well, there you go.”
You nodded in understanding, “thanks..”
Walking to your dresser, you pulled open the top drawer, revealing a variety of outfits and uniforms, all varying shades of pink. The sight left your head spinning a bit as you realized this would be your life for the next couple of months.
As you began changing, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you. With hesitant movements, you peeled off your shirt and skirt, the fabric slipping from your skin with a soft rustle. All the while, you were aware of Abby and Ellie's eyes lingering on you.
 Abby's gaze, though subtle, was sharply observant, her eyes tracing up and down your body with an almost predatory glare. It was as if she was memorizing every curve and contour. Meanwhile, Ellie's attention was more focused, her gaze lingering on specific areas of your body, like your hips and chest. There was an intensity in her stare, a curiosity that was borderline intrusive.
Slap! 
With a sharp sting on your ass, a sudden jolt of surprise chilled through you, causing you to yelp. "You'll make us late at this pace!" Dina's voice rang out, her arm wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the view of Abby and Ellie.
"Ah! You're right," you exclaimed, quickly slipping into your gym clothes.
Dina gave you a quick grin before turning her attention towards Abby and Ellie. Squinting her eyes playfully, she shook her head slowly, teasingly disappointed in the two of them. Abby hurriedly looked away, pretending to be preoccupied with tying her shoelaces, while Ellie rolled her eyes.
───
As you and the other girls made your way to the track, you found yourselves walking together in a small group. Ellie and Abby led the way, showing no signs of slowing down despite your struggle to keep up. Meanwhile, Dina’s pace was slower, occasionally glancing at you.
"So, how'd you get caught?" Dina asked slyly, a mischievous look in her eyes.
You turned to look at her, taken aback by the sudden question. "What?"
"You were sent here for a reason," Dina said curiously, making Abby and Ellie turn their heads, intrigued to hear your response.
"I..don't think I want to share," you said, avoiding eye contact from feeling a bit nervous.
"Oh, come on!" Dina urged, now walking next to you, realizing your hesitance. "Don't be so shy. How about we tell you ours? Will that make you less embarrassed?"
"Hmm..alright," you agreed. Maybe learning about their experiences would help get to know them.
Excitedly, Dina clapped her hands together. "Okay, okay! I'll go first." She moved closer to you, her shoulder practically bumping into yours. "I got caught watching lesbian porn."
A snicker escaped Ellie's lips as she tried to hold back her laughter.
Dina shot a playful glare. "You have no right to laugh, El's."
"Doesn't make it any less funny," Ellie retorted.
Dina scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Since it’s sooo funny, you go then."
Ellie's eyes locked onto yours, her voice embarrassed. "I ordered a strap online, and it got delivered to the wrong address. To my fucking neighbor, Seth. Dude went ballistic and sent me here, said I needed to be controlled."
A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as Ellie's words sank in, full of curiosity and intrigue. The mere idea of her wearing a strap sent a flow of sensations that pulsed throughout your body. Your throat became dry trying to visualize it. 
"Ab's! Your turn!" Dina interrupted excitedly, Abby's story was always her favorite.
Abby smirked, turning her gaze towards you. "Unlike Ellie, I got to use my strap," she remarked mischievously.
Ellie groaned at Abby'scomment, clearly unimpressed.
“I got caught fucking my father's assistant nurse with it.”
Dina squealed as she shook your arm excitedly. "Now THAT'S a coming out story!" she exclaimed.
Ellie shot Dina a glare, clearly annoyed by her reaction. With a scoff, she turned her head away, facing in the opposite direction.
Abby, on the other hand, smirked at Ellie's and playfully hit her back. "Aw, it's okay, El's," she said reassuringly.
"Okay, okay, tell us yours now," Dina urged eagerly, her and Abby's curious gazes fixed on you,
“Well..” you began, your hands fidgeting nervously as you mustered up the courage. “My parents walked in on me and my cheer captain…” You hesitated for a moment before continuing “...69’ing on the kitchen counter.” 
Ellie quickly snapped her head back to look at you. Dina and Abby’s eyes widened, completely startled.
“Y-yeah…” you confirmed, meeting the girls' shocked gazes. “Mid-squirt too…”
Ellie’s eyes widened as if they were going to pop. Dina’s jaw dropped, with her mouth slowly curving into a smirk, “You fucking win.”
───
"Alright, ladies," the head director announced, her voice carrying across the track, “forty-five minutes around the track, as per usual. Afterward, we hit the showers in preparation for cooking classes."
"Remember, ladies," she continued excitedly, "these skills aren't just beneficial, they also attract men! It's just another step closer to becoming 'normal'."
The moment the word "normal" left the director's lips, you noticed the collective eye rolls and groans from the other girls. Ellie's jaw tightened as she stared away, grumbling under her breath. Abby crossed her arms, completely unamused, while Dina couldn't help but snicker, lowering her face to hide her giggle.
With a sharp blow of the whistle, the director signaled the start of the morning run.
As you began your laps around the track, you couldn't help but notice the effortless speed and stamina of Ellie and the other girls. They seemed to glide around the track with ease.
Struggling to keep up, your legs began to burn. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you pushed yourself onward.
"Hey, you doing okay?" Abby asked.
"Ye..yeah..." you managed to reply between heavy breaths.
Abby arched an eyebrow, clearly seeing through you. "You do know we have about 20 more laps to go, right?"
Before you could respond, a sudden stumble sent you tumbling to the ground. Abby instinctively reached out to help, but her attempt only resulted in her losing her balance, causing her to trip and accidentally pull Ellie down with her.
Ellie hit the concrete hard, her knee taking the force of the fall. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her jaw tightly as pain shot through her scrapped knee. With all three of you on the ground, the sudden scene caused a chuckle from Dina. "Holy shit, you guys fell like bowling pins," she remarked.
"Shit, sorry El's-" Abby began to apologize.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” Ellie yelled, her tone cold as she glared up at Abby.
Abby glared back at Ellie, her expression tense. "What-"
“Watch where you’re fucking going. It’s not that hard,” Ellie snarled, gritting her teeth as she noticed the large scrape on her knee.
“T-that was on me-" you added, feeling guilty for the accident.
Abby suddenly got up, her face contorted with anger as she looked down at Ellie. “I didn’t mean to, I-"
Ellie suddenly stood up too, her height making her have to look up at Abby. “I’m so fucking sick of you trying to assert something. It’s fucking annoying.”
Abby scoffed, “Yeah? I’m tired of your pussy fucking attitude.” She then moved closer towards Ellie, the sudden bump causing Ellie to sway a bit.
Ellie chuckled, tilting her head to the side before locking eyes with Abby. “Pussy, huh?” 
“You are what you fucking eat,” Abby snapped back, her tone sharp.
You got up from the concrete floor, every inch of your body feeling the lingering sting from the sudden impact. “She didn’t mean to, I tripped and-” you tried to explain, but before you could finish, Ellie raised her fist. Her initial target being Abby, who managed to step back just in time to avoid the blow. Unfortunately, you stepped further, positioning yourself between them, but before you could react, Ellie's fist mistakenly met your nose.
“Holy shit!” Dina yelled, her hand covering her mouth in shock.
You felt the impact jolt through your body as you stumbled back, finding stability in Abby's embrace as her arms wrapped around you from behind.
“Fuck, I am so sorry-" Ellie began to apologize, her voice filled with remorse.
“Fucking really?!?” Abby yelled, frustrated as she stepped you to the side. “You fucking hit her!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Ellie yelled back, her tone defensive as she tried to explain herself.
“Didn’t mean to? You punched her!” 
“G-guys, I’m fine-" you said, your voice strained through the pain, attempting to step towards them again, holding your throbbing nose.
“I was clearly trying to punch your bitch ass!” Ellie yelled.
“Oh yeah?” Abby raised her fist, aiming for Ellie, her knuckles clenched as she intended to give her a piece of her mind for hurting you and being such a brat. However, as you stepped in between them once again, Abby's fist accidentally hit you, the impact shocking you and causing a blur in your vision.
“Oh my god!” Dina yelled, her eyes widening in horror as she flinched.
You stumbled backward, the world blurring around you as you tripped over your loose shoelace, your body rushing towards the concrete floor once again, jarring your senses and sending a wave of pain through your body.
Abby took her hands to her chest, her mouth covered in disbelief.
“fuck, fuck, fuck! Are you okay?” Ellie exclaimed, her voice filled with concern as she quickly knelt down beside you.
Your nose was now bleeding, droplets of blood scattering across the concrete floor like raindrops. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mixing with the scent of sweat. You winced as pain shot through your face, throbbing relentlessly.
“I think my nose is broken…” you managed to say, your words muffled by the blood dripping down your face.
“Now nobody can sit on her face,” Dina groaned.
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imaginaryf1shots · 6 months
Text
Forced | Charles Leclerc vr.
WC: 16.2K (It started as a 5K word and then I said okay 10K and things went from there)
Charles x reader
Summery: Being threatened and forced into a marriage wasn’t on your mind when you got invited to dinner by your parents.
Warnings: Cursing, forced marriage, bad parents, alcoholic parent, bad childhood, brief suicidal thoughts, half edited. tell me if I missed anything.
A.N: If you’ve read this before, no you haven’t I tried to save it to my drafts while I was at my part time job, and it showed network familiar fast-forward 2 hours and I don’t find it in my drafts, but I see it posted, It wasn’t all uploaded yet.
A/N2: If there has been a one shot I was nervous about positing, it’s this one. So many ups and downs, at one moment I thought about scrapping it but this idea has been in my mind for so long. I feel like I could’ve added so much and I have to remind myself this is a one shot and not a multiple parts series. CARLOS ver. IS COMING, not this week but I’ll start it once I have an outline.(send me ideas if you have any)
Masterlist
Charles Masterlist
Carlos vr.
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In the heart of Monaco, where all the rich, glitz and glamorous people live, the sun dips below the horizon casting a golden hue over the famous skyline of Monaco. The city is intertwined with the rich sport of Formula One. Many of the world's richest people live there, and so does your family. The famous Italian Morelli family, the rich of the rich. Generational wealth, very old money.
The family has been close with the Ferrari family for decades, and so Morelli has invested in the company very early on and has been receiving the benefits for years now. All of the children of the Morelli are born loving everything about cars and racing cars. However the new generation, not so much, they're straying from the driving and going into different ventures, trying different things. Yourself included, maybe when you were young but as you got older you never found yourself interested in cars or any of Ferraris teams in any motorsport, the last time you were at a race was when you were 10 and your parents had to force you to go, after that your older brothers stopped going so you said why can't I stay like them and that was that.
You defied your parents when you went to your choice of university, if it wasn't for you grandfather they would've cut you off, and so you went to art school and graduated with honours, but your parents still weren't there. Your grandfather passed away a few months later making your dad the head of the family.
Since then you've stayed in Italy after going and finishing university there, just the thought about going back to Monaco was out of the question, you have only stayed there during breaks from boarding school in Switzerland, both never feeling like home to you.
However here you are on a plane to Monaco for a mandatory family gathering, apparently something big is happening. the Youngest daughter to the family, the polite and elegant girl of the family, the least disappointment to your parents.
Your father had a driver waiting for you at the airport, not bothering to come himself even though it's been a couple of years since you saw him. Nothing has changed.
Getting ‘home’ yet again no one greeted you at the door but the maid who took your bag to your bedroom, you sighed and walked into the house looking for any sign of your family. You didn’t have to look for long, you found your mother on the balcony nursing a glass of some alcoholic drink, it was just a little after noon, a sight that you’re used to since you were young, your mum always being borderline alcoholic. Your guess is that she turned to the drinks to cope with living with your father, whom she chose to stay with for the glitz and the glamour of being a Morelli.
”Mother.” You greeted her, her head snapped to look at you, some of the liquid spilling as she placed her drink down and stood up, coming up to you with very wide arms pulling you in for a hug, your arms lay limp by your side for a moment before you returned the hug with one arm.
”Oh my baby, I didn’t know when you’d be in.” She said and pulled back to look at you.
”I sent you the details.” You mutter and she waves her hand waving you off.
”Come, come sit down, want a drink?” she asked, walking over to the drinks set on the side, you grimace and shake your head.
”No thanks, it’s a bit early for me.” You sit down across from her and look at the view, the view from the penthouse overlooking the pier, as much as you don't like Monaco the views there are breathtaking. “Where’s father?”
”He’s in a meeting.” She mutters and sips from her drink.
”It’s the weekend.” You reply but she just shrugs, unless he changed, your father never had work on the weekends, he hated them, he hated working anyways so for him to do so is something out of character.
”Your brothers just went out, sadly they didn’t come with any of their children.” Your mum pouted and you rolled your eyes, your mum is so out of touch with everything regarding her family, or anything in general, she acts so oblivious to the dynamic of the family, how all of her children live in other countries have their businesses and don’t want to be associated with the family name, the name she fought so hard to have.
”Okay, well, I’m going to my room to change.” You say and walk off leaving your mum on the balcony, texting your brothers in the group chat that you arrived, you laid down on your bed and scrolled through social media to pass time, you didn’t want to be here at all.
Once your brothers came, they made it to your room, the eldest taking the spot beside you on the bed and the second taking the sofa. It’s been a couple months since you saw them, but they’ve been texting you every now and then. The eldest, Matteo, is 8 years older than you, the second, Marco, is 6 years older, and you’re all at the age now where this difference isn’t that big.
You’ve all lounged around, your laughter ringing in the otherwise silent house. When the sun sat down you were called by the maids for the anticipated dinner. Hopefully everything will go smoothly and you'll be out of Monaco by tomorrow night. When you got to the dining room your father still wasn’t present, but you each took your place at the dinner table, with your mum at the head of the table across from your father’s empty seat and your brother’s each taking a side to your father and you between the oldest and your mum. It didn’t take long before your father arrived, he didn’t bother with pleasantries or hellos, he just took his place at the head of the table and food was served. You all ate in silence only the sound of the silverware hitting the plates is heard, something your mum tried not to grimace at each time.
“So… why are we here?” Matteo asked when the silence stretched for a bit too long for his liking, and he as did everyone minus your father wanted to escape this dinner.
”I have something that I wanted to talk to y/n about and I thought it’s best if you’re all present, as it’ll affect everyone.” Your father said, placing his knife and fork down, he took a sip from his wine glass and ran his eyes over the three of you like a predator, no ounce of love in him, you held your breath in curiosity and dread as the air hummed with anticipation, whatever is about to come can't be good. “As you know, our family has ties with the world of cars and motorsports, and Formula 1 has been a cornerstone of our family’s legacy for decades.”
”Not this again.” Marco mutters and your father gives him a warning look that has Marco clenching his jaw but saying nothing.
”In recent years, and since you three refused to have any hand in the family business or racing of any kind, our influence has waned, our presence diminished.” Your father continued, his voice carrying over the silence with determination, he speaks like you're in mediaeval times Matteo rolls his eyes. Dread fell onto you, you had no idea where this is going since it has to do with you. “I believe it’s time for us to take action.” His gaze sweeping across the room. “To reclaim our rightful place among the elite of Formula 1.” His eyes fall onto you and you forget to breathe, Matteo looking from you to your father. “I just came from a meeting with a Ferrari representative and we’ve come to a conclusion, y/n, we’ve arranged for you to marry Charles Leclerc.” Your fork clatters ringing in the air, your siblings and you are in shock. “This union will restore our family’s honour and secure our place at the top of motorsports history once more.”
As the implication of the head of the Morelli family proposal, no not proposal, fact, words, order, yes his order sank in, a palpable tension hung in the air, uncertainty and apprehension heavy.
And then your brothers were shouting, waving their hands, rage filled them. As for you? You felt betrayal, this is a death sentence to all your aspirations and dreams. Your eyes filled with tears, your throat closing in on you, your eyes fell to your plate and hadn’t moved. You have no idea who Charles even is, you have no idea who any of the Formula 1 drivers are at the moment, you haven't been in that sphere in so long.
”Come one, y/n, we’re leaving.” Matteo says and pulls you up, you stand up emotionlessly, your father still silent as he watched, you followed Matteo when your father spoke just as you were about to leave the room.
”If you don’t agree, then you can all kiss your futures goodbye.” Your father said and he dapped at his mouth with the napkin before he placed it on the table, that stopped you in your tracks along with Matteo and Marco stopped his shouting. closing your eyes, you let go of Matteo’s hand, of course it wouldn’t be that easy, your father wouldn’t just tell you and let you refuse, he had another thing up his sleeve.
”What are you talking about?” Marco asked his glare speaking for itself.
”I mean that, if your sister refuses or if any of you say anything or try to stop this marriage, you Marco will find that your company is suddenly without business and thus you’ll go bankrupt and you have two girls at home and a wife to take care of, and you Matteo, your stocks will plummet and you won’t be able to find a job as long as I live, all your inheritance gone and no trust fund to rely on anymore.” Cruel, he’s so cruel, how can he be your flesh and blood, how can you be related to this man? He’d basically kick you all to the street and his grandchildren as well, he has no heart that’s for certain.
”You can’t do that.” Matteo said but his voice was weaker, he knows his father is capable of doing this and much worse.
”Oh but I can.” Your father said with a smirk, his eyes settling on you once again. “So what will you do, y/n, would you let your brothers go bankrupt leaving them and their families with no money or future? Could you have this on your conscience?”
”This wouldn’t be on hers, it’s you, you’re doing this, don’t act like an innocent by standard when you orchestrated this, this scheme.”
”You know what? go at it, do the best you can, we’re not letting y/n marry someone she doesn’t even know, who the heck is Charles Leclerc anyways, I swear to god father if you make her do this I’ll-“
”I’ll do it.” You said and all eyes snapped to you, a tear left your eye before you whipped it away not letting another one leave your eyes.
”Wh-what?” Marco asked confused by your words.
”I’ll do it, but you have to write everything down, make a contract, that if I go through with it, you’ll leave them alone, the inheritance, the trust fund, everything.”
“No, no, y/n, what are you doing?” Matteo asked shaking his head, he doesn’t like this, he doesn’t want you to do this, his baby sister.
”I’m doing the only thing I can to keep you and your family safe.” You say to his, your eyes leaving your father’s to look at him. ”You just had a baby girl, and Marco, you’re about to have a boy, I can’t let this affect you.” You say to your brothers, Marco falls in his chair in disbelief. “Do we have a deal?”
”We sure do.” Your father says with a wicked grin on his face.
➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳
Earlier that day in Monaco, Charles was on his way to what he assumed was a friendly meeting with some of Ferrari’s officials. His mind was somewhere else, he was thinking about the upcoming race, race strategies, how to secure a spot on the podium, he’s reached a point where he just wants to stand on the podium not win, just be in the top 3. He’s been struggling with the team the whole season and his personal life took a turn since the middle of the last season, it seemed to him that everything is taking a horrible turn. Little did Charles know that what’s about to come is so much worse.
As Charles enters the office, he’s met with a Ferrari executive whose name eluded him at the moment and a man he never met before, but a sense of unease crept over the monegasque man as he took in the seriousness of the situation.
”Charles,” Greeted, the man he didn't know, Charles shook his hand ever the polite man. “I’m Antonio Morelli.”
Charles recognized the name instantly, he knew the history of Ferrari and their ties with the establishment of Ferrari. “Mr. Morelli, it’s lovely to meet you.”
After they finished the introduction and sat down, Antonio sitting across from Charles started speaking. “Charles, this meeting has been set up because we need to talk.”
Confusion flickered across Charles’s features, his brow furrowing in apprehension, he had no idea what Antonio Morelli could ever want with him.
“Of course, about what?”
”It’s about your future and the future of Ferrari.” His heart sank at Antonio's words, this conversation is about to change the trajectory of his life. “As you’re well aware, your recent… actions shall we say, have caused considerable damage to your reputation and more importantly the reputation of Ferrari and the team’s standing in Formula 1.” A wave of irritation surged through Charles at the implication of Antonio’s words, but he had to bite back his tongue and stop the retort that threatened to spill from his lips. He knows this is not the time to argue, and it would only serve to worsen the situation further. “In light of these circumstances, and to save your reputation and your career.” Antonio held eye contact with the driver, his tone cold and unwavering. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to present you with an ultimatum, and you can choose whichever you like, it’s up to you.” Charles’s heart skipped a beat as he braced himself for the oncoming crash, he knew that whatever was in store for him wasn’t good. “You’ll marry y/n Morelli.” He stated as if he wasn’t just offering his daughter up to a man he didn’t know, yes he knows who he is but this is his first time meeting Charles. “Or you will find yourself without a seat in Ferrari and with no future in Formula 1.”
Silence filled the room as it seemed to spin for Charles, his mind is struggling to grasp what was just told to him, it felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him leaving him without air and leaving him reeling with disbelief.
”I uh- but I…” Charles stammered struggling to come up with something to say as his voice is barely a whisper.
”There are no buts, Charles.” Antonio heard him loud and clear, his voice cutting through the turmoil going through Charles and reaching him. “This is your only option to keep your seat, your only chance to salvage and save your seat and career in Formula 1.”
Charles thought about all he went through to reach where he is now, racing in Formula 1 was his lifelong dream and he achieved it, but he hasn’t won a championship yet, he still has so much to achieve, so much to do.
“This isn't just about you Charles, this is about Ferrari as well, its about the fans and how they view you as il predestinato.” The executive said and Charles felt a surge of resentment rise within him, his fists clenching at his sides. How dare they blame him for all their problems? How dare they use him as a scapegoat for their own failings? He knows it's not just about him, it's to distract the fans from the failed car, the tractor he and Carlos are made to drive every week.
But as he met the unwavering gaze of Antonio and the executive, Charles realised that there was no escaping the reality of this ‘predicament’. He was trapped, caught in a web of deceit and manipulation and it looked like there was no escape for him.
With a heavy sigh and his head bowed, and broken spirit he nods his head in acceptance, knowing that he had no choice but to accept. No matter how much it went against everything he believed in, he had to agree, his sense of pride taking a hit. And as he left the room, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his newfound burden, Charles could only wonder what awaited him on the other side of the impossible choice that lay before him.
➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳
Matteo and Marco both took your bag and booked you a hotel room. You had set your mind to the marriage and weren't backing down as long as your father was threatening your brothers, the only family, you count, that you have left.
It took a lot for you to make them stay back when your father called you to tell you to come home to sign the contract and to tell you what the next steps will be like. You get there and the maid greets you as usual, taking your coat, before you make your way to the office. There's a meeting table with 6 chairs placed to the side in the office, used when your father has business meetings at home, so not so often.
You place your bag on the table and sit down, your father soon walks in with a man following him. It turns out to be the lawyer, they sit across from you.
“As we've talked there's two contracts, one for the marriage, you'll share with Charles and the other for your conditions. You can start with that one.” The lawyer stated and you start reading, it takes a while as you focus on every word not wanting to miss a thing. You do find yourself getting emotional as you read, this is all becoming so real, it's actually happening. It takes a lot for you not to show the tornado of emotions swirling inside of you.
“Where do I sign?” You ask meekly and the lawyer points you to where you have to. You sign all the lines and hand him the contract.
“Okay the next one.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.” You mutter and stand up.
“Let's take a break.” Your father excuses you and you head out to the bathroom furthest from the office to hide in there as you're trying to fight the tears. You're literally signing your life away, tying yourself to a man you've never met before. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you splash some cold water onto your face to calm your racing heart. But seeing how weak you look, makes you want to cry more. A few tears manage to slip down your cheeks but you pat them away, trying not to ruin your makeup. Don’t let him see how much this is affecting you, you can’t.
Charles makes it to the address sent to him, he's led to a penthouse so big and fancy it surprised him even though he's been in many expensive houses. You can tell this is owned by a billionaire, everything is a step above all the other places he's been in, yet it looked cold, unloved and un-lived in. Charles couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, he had greed to this, this arranged marriage out of desperation to keep his career, to keep his name out of the public’s mouths, however the idea of entering a marriage with a complete stranger left him feeling uneasy. When he makes it to the office, he sees Antonio and the lawyer sitting down, the chairs across from them empty, but there’s a purse on the table. Antonio and the lawyer greet him and point him to the seat across from the lawyer, and just as he sits down, the door he closed behind him is opened, and his future wife walks in. Charles looked up the Morelli family but there weren't pictures of the adult children anywhere, when they were young there’s plenty, some at F1 races even, but after a certain point, he found absolutely nothing. What he found is the parents of the family pictured at parties and lavish ad luxuries events and trips.
Charles looked starstruck when he saw you walk in, he doesn’t know what he expected but you look absolutely nothing like your father, you look elegant, soft and so innocent. He reminds himself that you’ve also agreed to this, that you’re the daughter of the man that’s forcing him, how different can you be from your parents?
You saw him in pictures, you’ve read about him, everything you could get under your hand you’ve read. From his beginning in karting to F1, to the scandals he’s been getting into for the last year or so, how much it had affected him and his sponsors. On track he’s still doing good, the best he can in the car he’s given at least, but off track he’s living the life of a fuckboy, all that after he came out of a long time relationship. To you however he’s just the man that agreed to this marriage, to further his career to get to your family’s money, be connected to Formula 1 forever even, you don’t know but you don’t like him and dread the thought of being tied to him just like your mum is to your dad.
With heavy steps you make your way to your seat next to Charles and sit down, you refuse to look at Charles, but he kept glancing at you taking you in, your father had a smirk on his face that just irritated you to no end.
”Okay, let’s go over the key points in the contract together before you both can take it and sign.” The lawyer said. “Charles and y/n, you are both not to be seen in any romantic or intimate position with anyone but each other.” This was mainly for Charles. “The public needs to think that you’re both single for now.” Easy enough you think to yourself. “In a month's time, you’ll start being spotted with each other, but confirm nothing after about 2 months, y/n you’ll be seen at a race.” You already hated this so much. “From there you have to sell that you’re actually in love, we’ll then release a statement saying that you’re in a relationship and things look to be going good. Now, in 9 months you have to get married.”
”That’s not going to be believable, getting married in under a year of knowing each other.” Charles stated wanting to scoff at the stupid plan they had set up, you take the contract and flip through it reading all the conditions the things you have to do.
”And that’s why you’ll say that you’ve known each other for a long time, and you’ve just started dating recently.” Antonio said and gave a challenging look, that shut him up straight away.
“Why do I have to move back to Monaco?” You ask frowning, you hate this country, it may be small but you hate it, you’ve just gotten out of it permanently not even five years ago.
”Because this is where Charles lives-“ You cut your dad off.
”But he can move to Italy, it’s not that far.” Your dad wasn’t happy about you cutting him off but you didn't care, your life is in Italy not in Monaco. “And he races most of the year so he’s not in Monaco most of the time.”
”y/n, Monaco is the home of Formula 1, it wouldn’t make sense to move to Italy, keep your house there if you want and go there from time to time, but you will live in Monaco.” You huff but say nothing else, wanting this hell to end already. You’re both given pens to sign the contracts and before the ink even has time to dry you leave the room, leaving the three men watching after you.
Charles asks himself what he had gotten himself into, to him you sounded like a brat throwing a tantrum, because she couldn’t get the smallest thing she wanted, and now he’s stuck with you. Now your fates are sealed, intertwined. And you’re both losing hope.
➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳
In the next month you don’t see Charles, he was off racing, and you were back in Italy, you’ll postpone your move as much as you can, your life is all in Italy, it’s where you’re living, working, that’s where your friends are.
Both you and Charles were sent booklets with all the information that you may be asked about for the other and you had to memorise it. You took the booklet and never bothered to open it, you weren’t about to make this easy, just because you signed doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing from here. Charles however read everything, he wanted to know who you are, he hadn’t gotten the luxury of finding a wiki page or an article about you.
The media and everyone around Charles notice a difference in him, he doesn't go out or sleep around anymore, but he’s also quieter and more reserved than before. Whenever he was asked about his mode or why he’s changed, he’d just deflect the question, change the subject or simply just shrug. Charles did find himself thinking about his future all the time, regret and second thoughts clouded his mind, but it was all too late now.
It was between races when you flew back to Monaco to meet Charles for your first ‘date’. In your time in Monaco you’ve booked a hotel room to stay in, not wanting to see your parents if not needed. You met Charles at the location sent to you by your father, you still don’t have Charles’ number.
It was a small and cosy cafe, where you’re both to sit and eat for an hour or so, there will be a paid photographer (paparazzi) waiting to snap pictures of you both. You arrived first and took a table near the window, but had your back to it, not wanting your face out there straight away. You tapped your fingers on the table as you waited for the Formula 1 driver to arrive. This ‘date’ to many would be a dream, but to you it had kept you up at night, dark circles under your eyes were covered by layers of concealer.
”Uh, hi.” Charles says and takes the seat in front of you, you give him a small fake smile in return.
”Hi.” You greet him back, and then there’s a long stretch of silence, that is so awkward you wanted to kill yourself, what do you say to your future husband that you’re forced to marry on your first ‘date’? Thankfully a waitress comes by and places two menus in front of you, and so you take your time flipping through, Charles has been here many times before, he knows what he’ll order so he takes the time to shamelessly look at you. He does admit that if it weren’t for the whole marriage thing, if he saw you somewhere he’d ask you out, too bad you’re a Morelli that he’s forced to marry. “Do you know what you’ll order?”
”Yeah, do you?”
”Yes.” You both order what you want before falling into silence. Charles clears his throat, searching for something, anything to break the awkward silence.
”So… how was your day?” He asked eventually, cringing slightly at his own words, you blink at him not expecting him to talk to you at all, you hesitate for a moment before you find your voice to respond.
”Fine, thank you.” Your tone is a little guarded, on edge, not trusting Charles, but you decide to play along and return the question. “How was your day?”
”It’s way okay.” And that was the end of it before your food arrived, you eat in silence both glancing at the other from time to time. This is suffocating, it just dawned on you that this will be your life from now on.
”This is awkward, maybe we can, I don't know, try to talk maybe?” You were uncertain and admittedly very awkward, but you have to get over the silence, you hate silence like this, you’re very talkative by nature, the only time you’re silent is when you’re uncomfortable.
”Okay, we have to act like we like each other anyways.” Charles muttered and took a sip from his water. “Did you come from Italy?”
”Yeah, early this morning, you were in Spain right?” You think you’ve seen that they were racing in Spain somewhere online.
”Yes, a couple days ago.” You nod to his words and fall silent again. “Nice weather today.”
You couldn’t help yourself but laugh, nothing is truly funny, but look at you talking about the weather and nonsense, trivial things, the irony of the situation is so funny. Charles smiles as he sees you laughing, he didn’t expect it but it’s his first time seeing you do more than a fake smile, you’re usually stoic, no emotions at all.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just this whole thing is just so…”
”Weird.”
”Yes.”
”Believe me I know.”
This breaks the ice a little, you still talk about trivial things, nothing personal at all, you talk about Italy he tells you about Spain, what countries you both think is better than the other, trivial, not important talk. But talk you did. As an hour came to close, you both paid for your part of the late lunch, Charles didn’t put up a fight when you said you’ll pay half of the food, he felt like you’re not at the point where he can offer to pay.
Walking outside you look up at him and give him one of those small smiles, that to him looked practiced and not genuine.
“I guess, I’ll see you at our next scheduled, uh ‘date’.” You say doing air quotes at the date part.
“Yeah, sure.” You turn to leave before Charles stops you. “Wait, let me get your number, so we don’t have to go through people to schedule something.”
“Great idea.” You mutter and take out your phone and you both exchange numbers. “Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
With that you both went on your own ways, you went to walk around and get to your hotel, the weather is nice after all, and Charles went with him in his car.
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You and Charles went on a few more ‘dates’ each one with more pictures online, no one has figured out who you were yet, something you were forever thankful for.
F1Gossip
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Liked by username5, username320, and 302,582
hear me out! I think charles is over his hoe era, in the last month he’s been seen with the same girl in Monaco, Austria and Hungary. I repeat it’s the same girl.
No one knows who she is but or what she does but could this be Charles new girlfriend?
More comments
username234 honestly good for him
username20 FINALLY!! I was over him with a different girl each week 💃
username083 I wonder who she is
username72 not good enough for charles that’s for sure 🤢
username294 i bet it’s just another girl who he flies around w/ him so he wouldnt have to go out and look for one
username498 come one guys we don’t even know who she is
username903 it’s giving me gold digger vibes
username465 Charles be careful
username983 seriously these comments are not it 🙄
username438 shut up no one asked you
username983 and I don’t remember charles asking for your opinion
username438 stop asking like you know him when you dont
username983 says yyou
username474 I don’t like this 😒
username832 me neither
username094 this is whey drivers dont post their relationships because you people dont even know who the poor girl is and you’re already attacking her
username873 Olivia was better
username384 girl they ended over a year ago get over it
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You’ve seen the photos and you’re impressed with how much you and Charles managed to sell it, one thing you didn't like is the comments, you’re dreading the moment they find out who you were. You and Charles would usually meet up somewhere for half an hour, once you got the okay that the pictures were good you’d both go your separate ways. Now he has his summer break which he’s spending in Monaco, so once more you fly to Monaco to start the next part of the ‘plan’. The soft launch.
Your socials are all private, but soon you’ll have to make them public, another thing you have to change. You made it to Charles yacht in Monaco, he was already there waiting for you.
”Hi.” You greet the Monegasque, with a wave of your hand and a small smile, Charles returns your greeting and helps you get on the yacht. You settle down as Charles gets the yacht out in the water for a good spot. You brought your sketchbook with you, you’ve had a few ideas about some paintings for a gallery you wanted to be part of and inspiration just hit you that morning, so as Charles sailed for a bit you sat at the table and brought up your supplies. You’re the kind of artist that likes to sketch things out before putting them to the canvas.
”What are you drawing?” Charles asks you when he comes in.
”Just a sketch for a painting I want to do.” You say and look up at him to see him handing you a drink. “Thank you.”
”I never saw any of your work before.” Charles stated and you smile taking out your phone, you always love showing off your work. Not many people in your life were interested in art besides those you met in uni so when you find someone you just want to show them.
”I’ll show you.” Charles sits next to you and looks at the phone, and suddenly he’s seeing a side to you that he’s never seen before, your face is bright and the smile on your face is true, this is your passion. you’re explaining to him what each piece is about and what they mean, the colours, the composition, what inspired it. In the next 30 minutes he’s heard more from you than he’s heard in the last month. Charles is smiling at you when you realise you’ve been ranting for a while. “What?”
”I just never seen this side of you before.” He shrugs and you sigh leaning back in your seat, angled slightly to his side.
”We don’t know each other, I only know what I’ve seen online.” You tell him, your smile is long gone, and you find yourself needing to talk to him about the arrangement, you both have never talked about it before.
”You haven’t read the booklet?” He asked confused, he’s read his over and over again.
”Just the first page, it’s all stuff you can find online anyways, besides I bet you mine is just filled with things my parents think they know about me, but aren’t true.” Charles is confused by your words, he’s been under the impression that you wanted this marriage to happen, that this was a part of your plan. It seems to him now that your relationship with your parents is a bit rocky.
“I feel like there's a lot of things we should talk about.” Charles said as he got the feeling that maybe you aren't as welling as he originally thought.
“True, I actually hoped to talk to you.” You said and were Facing Charles fully, he also turned to face you, your knees touching lightly. “Look, I know you that we don't know each other, and that there's things that we both want to do that this marriage wouldn't allow us to do, so I have a proposal.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“I wouldn't mind you being with other girls, we'll be married in a few months and i know I'm not your type, so do whatever you want just keep to discreet.” Charles was dumbfounded by your words, he cant believe that this is what you think of him. He's also a bit irritated. But what can he say, his attractivities haven't been the most private as of late. “But, I'm Keeping my house in Italy and I'll go Monaco if I have to and nothing else.”
“Sounds fair.” Charles said and you put out your hand for a handshake, which he returned. “There's no reason for us not to be friends.”
“True, I mean we're stuck together for life now.” You say and shrug. “We should take some pictures for Instagram.”
You both go out and begin the small photoshoot you had to do. Posing and taking pictures to choose one for Charles to post on his stories.
By the time the Yacht docked the sun was nearly down, Charles got off first and helped get off.
“When are you leaving?” Charles asked as you both walked to the parking lot, you rented a car this time around.
“As soon as I find a plane, I usually don't book my return flight until I'm sure we have everything we need.” You explain and he nods. “Why?”
“Well, you see…” Charles rubbed the back of his head nervously, he didn't want to bring it up but he's been putting it off for so long. “My mum wants to meet you.”
“What? Why?” you're confused why his mum would want to meet you, unless. “She thinks this is real?”
“I couldn't tell her, it would break her heart, she would feel guilty and upset and I can't do that to her believe me I tried but everytime I couldn't.” Charles went on a mini rant, now this a side to him you never saw. You can tell how much he cares and lives his mum, you couldn't say you understand his feeling but just from hearing him you can sort of empathise with him.
“Okay, I'll do it.” You say and he stops from talking and looks at you, with wide eyes.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it means alot to you, I’ll play my part.” You shrug, not thinking much about your choice. “Practice anyway, we haven’t acted as a couple in front of anyone really.”
“Thank you.”
”No worries.”
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The next day, you got dressed and headed to Charles’s house where his family was gathering for an early dinner and a night together, enjoying the time where the three Leclerc boys had nothing to do. When you arrived, you could hear the laughter from inside, making you pause as the nerves came at full force, your hands started to shake and you had to pause before ringing the bell a few times. Taking a deep breath you pressed the bell, and waited. The door opened and you saw Charles, he must’ve been laughing before he opened the door because he had a big smile on that showed his dimples, and they didn’t dim when he saw you. You gave him a nervous smile.
”Hey, come in.” He greeted you and walked in seeing some of his family, this must be the reason behind the smile and the friendliness. Yes Charles has never been rude to you but you wouldn't call him friendly or loving or caring. Neither have you to be honest, so you wouldn’t blame him. You give Charles a quick hug and press your cheek to his in greeting. You put on your diplomatic smile that you had perfected when you were in boarding school, and look at the Leclercs, thankfully it wasn’t the whole family, just the boys and their mother. “Maman, this is y/n, the one I told you about.”
”Ah, y/n it's lovely to meet you.” Pascal comes up and pulls up in for a hug, that you clearly weren’t expecting, your eyes went wide for a bit before you returned the hug. Her smile and hug came in as a relief amidst the lies and the unknown tension between her and Charles.
”It’s lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Leclerc.” You say in perfect french, and pull back to see her grinning face, all your words and smiles felt hollow, meaningless , you know the truth behind all this and it isn’t easy to lie to someone who’s so affected by it.
”Oh please call me Pascal, Charles didn’t tell me you speak French.” Pascal says and pulls you behind her to the living room where the other other Leclerc boys are.(after this point everything is French between the French speakers)
”Must’ve wanted to surprise you.” You say smoothly and smile as you shake hands with Arthur before you do the same to Lorenzo, who seemed reluctant, but you think nothing of it. His brother did sleep around with lots of women recently, and you’re the first one they’ve met in a while as well.
”I wonder what else he didn’t tell me.” Pascal gives Charles a look and he shrugs with a smile, he didn’t know you could speak French, it wasn’t in the booklet, it said you speak Italian, English and German.
“Maman, I just wanted you to find out from her.” Charles says and sits down next to you on the sofa.
”y/n, you’ve come at a good time, I was finishing the food.” Pascal said and went to go to the kitchen before you stopped her.
”Do you need help?” You ask standing to follow her but she refuses your help and tells Arthur to come help her instead. With a groan the youngest follows his mother to the kitchen and you’re left with the oldest two.
”So what exactly do you do, y/n?” Enzo asks, the way he said your name left a bad feeling in you, you looked at Charles and he gave you a nod in reassurance, but it did nothing to ease you at all. You’re in the lion’s den right now.
”I’m an artist.” You say with a polite smile.
”So you don’t work.” He said simply and your smile falls.
”Enzo.”
”What? I’m just getting to know your wife.” Enzo said and you freeze. His tone is sarcastic, your heart sank and your facade dropping. “Oops not yet I guess.”
“Come on, let’s eat.” You’ve only just met Arthur but you've never been grateful for anyone in your life. Enzo leaves the room first and you turn to look at Charles with fire in your eyes.
”You told him.” You hiss glaring at the Ferrari driver.
”Yes, I had to tell someone, and he won’t tell anyone.” Charles defends himself and you roll your eyes. “Your whole family knows.”
”Yes, but you know that, why didn't you tell me?” You huff, not liking how he didn't tell you.
”I just didn’t have the chance.”
”How convenient.” You walk away from Charles and to the dining room, where they were all sitting down, the polite fake smile was back on your face. You sat down in a chair and Charles sat next to you. You were back to playing boyfriend and girlfriend, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of Enzo’s eyes on you. Another thing you’ve noticed is how loving the family is, even Enzo’s anger is justified and comes out from a place of love. Your brothers love you but you weren't raised with love around you and it shows in how people act and interact with each other. You did get to know the family a lot that day, with good food, good wine, and amazing company. But at the end of the night when Pascal made Charles drive you home/hotel since he didn’t drink and you did, you sat in silence as the guilt ate at you slowly, you were looking out the window from Charles’s Ferrari watching the scenery lost in thought.
”I didn’t know you spoke French.” Charles said breaking the silence and bringing you out of your thoughts, you turn to look at him.
”Yeah, I’ve been speaking it since I was young.”
”It’s not in the booklet.” You laugh at his words and little pout he had on his face, looks like someone took reading the booklet to heart.
”Told you it’s not all true, I refused to speak French to my parents after the age of 9.” You told him and he gave you a questioning look filled with curiously, your family dynamic alway puzzling him and leaving him utterly confused. “They always wanted me to do this or that, and at home we always spoke Italian and then suddenly they wanted us to speak French, I learnt it but never spoke it in front of them, I speak six languages fluently, and know the basics of a few more.”
”SIX!” Charles is impressed, he speaks three and that was hard for him, imagine six.
”Yeah.” You chuckle at his surprise and bring out your hands to count them down. “Italian, because I’m Italian, French because Monaco, duh, German because of my school in Switzerland, English is a language everyone just learns, Spanish because I went to a trip to Spain in 8th grade and loved the language and then Dutch cause why not, and it has some similarities to German when it comes to vocabulary.”
“Wow, I’m impressed, and surprised more impressed though.” Charles says and you smile a genuine smile.
”I’m glad to impress, and if you ever need a translator you know who to find.”
Charles came to a stop in front of the hotel, he never asked why you never stay with your family when you’re here but he could only guess. “You know, you don't have to stay at a hotel, every time you're here.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.” You say unbuckling your seatbelt.
”You wouldn’t.”
”I don’t know, maybe you’d have some company, I’m okay here seriously.” Charles sighed and here it is again your thoughts of him.
”I haven’t been with anyone since I’ve signed the contract.”
”Why.”
”Because no matter what, I’m not a cheater.”
”But we’re not in a relationship.” silence
”Have you been with anyone?”
”No, that’s not what i meant, I just mean that you can live your life how you want it.”
”Well, I don’t want to be a cheater we’re getting married in a few months.”
”Well, I’m not with anyone and haven’t been in almost a year.”
”Okay.”
”Okay, see you later Charles.”
”See you.”
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Charles_leclerc
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Liked by Landonorris, Maxverstappen1, your username and 3,380,394 others
No place like Monaco ❤️
More Comments
username93 we saw the last slide charles
username24 Charles in his soft launch era 🔥
username37 does this mean the end to his hoe era for real
username76 I’m going to miss fuckboy Charles
username37 You’ll be missed charles 💔
username83 you all think its the same girl from the paparazzi pictures 🤔
username69 I think so, same hair and everything
Landonorris 👀
Carlossainz55 when did this happen?
username28 lol not even his friends knew
username86 I bet @/pierregasly knows what up
Pierregasly not this time
username08 can’t believe there’s a day where Pierre is as clueless as we are
username90 I bet she’ll be gone in a week or two
username87 Uh who is this?
username48 Charles be careful there’s a gold digger trying to leach of you 🤮🐍
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Charles posted a few more times, without bringing your face in continuing the soft launch part of the ‘plan’. you’ve met his mother another time, and like the first time, seeing her so happy for Charles and being in love with you left you with guilt that kept you up at night. Alas it was time for you to make your appearance at a race, your dad had talk to you on the phone and told you to hurry up, he also tried to arrange for a ‘family dinner’ that you’ve refused over and over again. With that being said you texted Charles and you both agree for you to go to the race in the Netherlands. You’ve arrived separately from Charles in, coming from Italy. Charles’s room was a suite at the hotel, with a big sofa and a king sized bed. Charles arrived a day before you and was already out for media duties for quite some time, you had a work obligation that you couldn’t get out of and you haven’t really tried.
By the time you arrived and were out of the airport and at the hotel it was already getting dark out, you got into Charles’s room with the key he left for you at the reception. The room was clean, you've noticed with his suitcase open on the side, the first thing you did was shower and get into some lounge clothes, it was an oversized set that you wore around the house when you had guests over usually, not the usual boxer shorts and bralette you enjoyed.
Your phone has been going for a good 15 minutes now, making you sigh and go to the balcony to get fresh air with your phone in hand as you willed yourself to pick up. It was night time, and you had only turned the side lamp on in the room, making very faint light come out to the outside. after staring at the screen for what felt like eternity and with a shaky breath, you finally muster the courage to pick up his latest call. Your heart was pounding in your chest.
”y/n, finally, I’ve been calling you for days now.” Your father’s voice rang through the line, it was laced with irritation and anger, all directed towards her, as always leaving her shaky and scared.
”Sorry, father, I’ve been busy.” Your voice is barely over a whisper, a strained silence hung in the air for a moment, your hold on the phone tightened.
”Look, I’ve been patient enough with both you and Charles, but if you keep ignoring me and not doing as I asked, then your brothers will bare the consequences of your action, or none there of.” His tone was serious and unyielding, making you feel like a child once more.
“We will, I promise, tomorrow I’m going to the paddock.” You tell him straight after, and you hate how you want to please him just to get him off your back, the fear in you not lessening with age, he still has a hold over you.
“Good, that’s good.” He hummed and you hear your mother talking next to him for a moment before he’s speaking again. “Your mother is asking when you’ll be over for dinner with Charles.”
”I don’t know, we’re both super busy and-“
”And nothing, you come here as soon as you can, I’ll have none of this busy nonsense.” Your father interrupts his tone firm. “It’s time for the excuses to stop, I’ve been letting you handle how you get it out to the public on your own, but what I say goes.”
”I’ll talk to Charles, we’ll-we’ll figure something out.” You mutter and tears gather in your eyes, you try to fight them but like always when it came to your father they just fall freely. No matter what, you have no choice but to complain with his wishes/demands. For some reason after meeting his family, the thought of Charles seeing yours is leaving you with a sense of dread and despair. soft sobs leave your mouth in waves, you look out at the view, you’re high, the street looks far away, and you wonder, just for a second, if you jump would you die instantly or would you be in pain, is that kind of pain better or worse that the one you’re in. shaking your head away from those thoughts, you turn to go inside.
Unbeknownst to you Charles has made it to the hotel room, just to catch the last of the conversation, and he’s heard you cry. He stood in the bedroom just watching you crumple under the weight of your emotions, a few times he had to stop himself form going to you and pulling you in for a hug.
When he sees you turning to come back inside he makes his way to the door of the room and acts like he just came in.
”Hey.” Charles greets you softly, he couldn’t act happy when he just saw you falling apart.
”Hey.” You put on a brave smile but he could see your wet cheeks and red eyes, your nose red as well. “How was today?”
”It was okay, tiring, but good.” Charles says and his eyes don’t leave your figure as he watched you escaping to the sofa where you practically had your back to him.
”That’s good, I’m tired as well, I think I’ll go to bed now.” You say and pull on the extra covers you found in the closet.
”Now? did you eat?”
“No, but I’m tired and not hungry.”
”Oh, okay, sleep well then.”
”Thanks, you too.”
Charles walks into the bedroom and closes the door lightly, you’re not sleeping and you won't find sleep for a while, your mind is swirling with emotions and thoughts that are hunting you down. You don’t cry but a few tears slip as you try not to think about what tomorrow will hold or all the things you have to do.
The next day, you wake up bright and early, before Charles’s alarm goes off, you don't need to shower since you did the night before, but you slip into the bathroom, and start on your makeup, and get dressed. You know that every single thing about you will be all over social media and criticised and analysed by thousands if not millions of people Charles has over 10 million followers on Instagram after all. When Charles was up, you were just finishing up your hair, the door was open. You heard movement from behind you and looked up through the mirror to see a shirtless half asleep Charles, his sweatpants low on his hips, your hands stopped mid air with your curling iron. You’re just a woman, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wonder, starting with his messy and tousled hair moving to his chest and arms and his abs.
“Morning.” His morning voice made you blink and look away, you had to swallow before you were able to regain your composure and your voice.
“Morning, I’m almost done.” You say and focus on not looking at him and just looking at what you were doing.
”That’s okay.” Charles says and goes to the second sink in the bathroom next to you and starts brushing his teeth, you both were doing your business in silence but your eyes wonder to him every few seconds, his eyes was half closed and he was half asleep still, so for you it was a blessing, being able to look at him as much as you wanted, so you admired him without him seeing.
You’re finished before him and leave the bathroom, it didn’t take long for him to be ready, dressed in his Ferrari team kit and a pair of skinny jeans, you bite your tongue not to comment on it, you’re not close for you to say anything about his choice of clothes.
On the ride to the track, you felt a sense of anticipation and excitement, your eyes looking outside the window taking in the city, after today your life as you know it will change. Every single thing you do will be under the microscope, you felt like a teen again but this time it’s not going to be just your parents watching, it’s going to be thousands of people, all with their opinions that they’re not afraid of saying, online at least.
”It’s going to be okay.” Charles said and you turned to look at him only to find him already looking at you. “You don’t have to be nervous, after we go inside, you can stay in my room if you want.”
”No it’s okay, I can do it.” You tell him with a grateful smile, as far as arranged marriages go, Charles isn’t the worst option, if you met in other circumstances you wouldn’t have gone for him simply for his career choice in F1 but you’re glad it’s not someone worse.
When you make it there and park, Charles gets out first and walks to your side opening the door, all with a smile on his face, he helps you out of the Ferrari and you get out and take your first look around, there’s fans everywhere all screaming and shouting his name. Some of his team are already waiting for him, and when he goes to sign caps and merch, one of the females introduces herself and stands with you. you ask her about her job and make small talk, while you’re waiting. She also gives you your pass that Charles requested and you put it around your neck.
“He’s signing a lot of things.” You observe your ‘boyfriend’ as he’s going from one person to the other.
“Yeah, he’s known for singing anything.” You hum and watch how nice Charles is with everyone. “We usually have to pull him away.”
They did pull him away and inside the paddock you guys went. Charles let you walk a bit behind him, knowing that photos of him will be taken and you’re nervous enough, he didn’t want to make it worse for you. it’s been so long since you’ve been at a race it feels like a life time ago, you forgot the sheer magnitude of the event, the air was alive with the hustle and bustle of people around you, creating an atmosphere that’s charged with excitement, and anticipation. After a long walk you make it to Ferrari’s motorhome, Charles introduces you to a few people who you can stick with when he’s on duty. His hand was on the small of your back when he was leading you through the crowds, but other than that you both weren’t showing any signs of affection at all. That didn’t change the fact that once he was in his race suit and it was hanging but his waist you were looking, it was today that you’ve realised how fit he is, he doesn’t just have a good face but a fit body as well.
Watching FP1 brought back all your memories of when you enjoyed racing, I mean how could you not, you’re a Morelli it’s in your blood. Maybe if your relationship was different with your parents who knows where you’d be today. In effort to distance yourself from your parents you’ve strayed from a lot of things that you enjoyed that they loved or wanted you to do.
Between the practice sessions Charles took you with him to get lunch at the cafeteria, he had to stick to his diet and you choose whatever you wanted. sitting down you’re soon joined by Carlos Sainz, you haven’t met him yet, but you saw him when you were looking up Charles online and his face is everywhere along with all the other drivers.
”Hey mate, you haven’t introduced us.” Carlos said and sat down across from the two of you, Charles was telling you about what to expect during the rest of the day and the next two days before he was cut off by his teammate.
”Carlos meet y/n, y/n meet Carlos.” Charles introduced you and you gave the Spanish driver a smile and offered to shake his hand.
”Hey Carlos.”
“Hello, I didn’t know Charles was bringing anyone with him today.” Carlos said before he started eating.
“Yes, I had work and we weren’t sure if I could make it or not.” Half a lie, you knew you’d be here for a while but you did have work.
“Ah, so what do you do?” Carlos asked and he was expecting to hear a model.
”An artist.” Carlos was surprised and proceeded to ask you about what kind of art, where you studied and about living in Italy. The three if you walked back to the brahe together that’s when Charles informed his teammate that you speak Spanish.
”You know y/n speaks Spanish, she says fluently but I’m not good enough to verify that.” Charles said and you gave him a look that had him laughing.
”You don’t believe me?” You ask him and he shrugs innocently.
"No need to worry, I can verify it for you." Carlos fake comforted his teammate and turned to you. "So where did you learn Spanish?"
"I took online classes when I was in 8th grade." You told him and he was impressed, you laughed at his surprised look, you are fluent and your accent is good. "I went to Spain once and just loved the language."
"Mate, she's fluent." Carlos turned to look at Charles who laughed at the two of you, Carlos then turned and continued talking to you. Charles was needed for something and so he left the two of you talking, Carlos was asking you about where you went in Spain and if you want to go again, he recommended a few places and then he learnt you spoke six languages, and so you were made to talk to him in all of them and his face was priceless, had you laughing. He may not have understood everything but he
knows enough to know you're fluent.
"Charles, where did you find this one?" Carlos joked with Charles when he came back, and that had your smile faltering and for Charles to freeze a bit, if Carlos noticed he said nothing.
“It’s a secret.”
“Fine, have your secrets.”
The rest of the day went by nicely and seamlessly, the Ferrari boys did good, no one was beating Max but they've done good. You haven't checked your phone all day, when you made it back to the hotel, Charles went to shower and you laid on the sofa to scroll through. Your Instagram account has gained over 10K followers, you had pictures of your work more than ones of you, but the secret is out, now everyone knows you. You didn't dare check Twitter; the app always scares you.
You heard the shower turn off, when you got a call from your father you contemplated not answering but knowing this would make it much worse you just picked up.
“Hello.” you say on the phone and close your eyes tight, your head on the pillow.
“What do you think you're doing?” Was the first thing you heard, he was angry very angry at what you have no idea.
“Wh-”
“Shut up I'm not done talking, do you know what you've done, why are there more pictures of you and Carlos than with you and Charles. Do you want to ruin the family reputation, do you not take this seriously?”
“What are you talking about?” Today was good. You had fun today and you've done everything he asked you to do, yes reluctantly and you push it off but you do it nonetheless, you sit up as you get agitated. “I've done EVERYTHING you asked me to do, I was just talking to Carlos, there's nothing to it.”
“Don't you fucking talk back to me young lady, haven't done anything good your whole life, you never listen, tomorrow I better see you and Charles selling this or you'll feel the consequences to your actions.” He hangs up and you throw your phone away, cursing under your breath your body shakes with sobs, your head in your hands. Nothing is ever enough for your father, you're never enough.
Charles sighs and this time he doesn't think about it he sits down beside you and pulls you in for a hug, you let him, your face hiding in his neck. Charles shushes you and holds you, you're clutching his shirt in your fist. Charles has a good heart he
doesn't like seeing people crying and he's come to see you as a friend now, a new friend that he's getting to know. It makes him angry that a father would make their daughter cry this much and wouldn't care, he feels blessed for having his parents and makes him feel bad for you. Your childhood must've not been easy. He whispers words of comfort in French and lets you let it all out, your body is shaking for a while
before you slowly stop, when Charles looks down he sees you sleeping. He moves you slowly not wanting to wake you up and carries you bridal style, and he manages to get you to bed before you begin to stir.
"What?" you say confused.
"Hey, just sleep." Charles says and pushes your hair out of your face, you look around and realise you're in his bed.
“No, this is your bed.” You tell him and try to get up but he stops you.
“Just sleep, it can't be that comfortable on the sofa.” He says and you lay back down.
“But you have work tomorrow.” You mutter and rub your eye, it's a bit sensitive from all the crying you've been doing.
“It's fine, a night on the sofa wouldn't hurt me.” Charles says with a smile but you're stubborn, you’re not about to let a man that drives fast cars for a living sleep on the sofa and wake up with back pains.
“Well the bed is big, we can share.” You say and Charles looks at you, he takes you in, you're half asleep, your eyes puffy and bloodshot with tones of worries and things to think about but here you are wanting to make sure he's okay and comfortable.
“Okay, yeah.” Before Charles could make it to his side of the bed you're already asleep, he lays there and wonders how many times you've cried yourself to sleep, how many sleepless nights you've had, how many times you went though restless days by yourself. He knows you have two brothers, he knows they're kind to you that they're not like your parents, but they're not in your life, it seemed to him that they moved out once they were old enough and forgot about you a little, both with their own lives now.
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The next morning Charles asks you what your father wanted and you didn't really want to tell him at first but he managed to get it out of you.
"Just tell me from now on, we're both in this not just you." Charles tells you as he drives to the circuit.
“But this is your life, and this is your career and I just don't want to be a burden or for you to have to think that you have to be stuck with me all day or something.” You tell him, angling yourself to face him.
“y/n, we're a team, okay, for this to work we have to be always on the same page and I consider you my friend now, so just let me help you where I can and you help me where you can okay?” You smile at his words, a team, you have someone on your team.
“Okay.”
When you make it to the circuit, it's a repeat of the day before, you stand to the side while Charles does his thing and he walks in front of you, but half way through he stops and holds his hand out for you with a smile, you blink a couple of times before you take his hand. When you get to the garage Charles is whisked away for debrief and you're left there, you were looking at his car admiring the Ferrari, when a mechanic sees you and walks over.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" He asks and you look up at him with a smile.
“Yeah, it's been years since I was this close to a Formula 1 car.” You tell him, there's rumours around that you're a Morelli and everyone in Ferrari knows of your family, so it takes him by no surprise that you've been close to one before. “It's so different from the ones in the early 2000s.”
“Much different, we have done a lot of changes, look…” And he begins showing you what has changed, why cars nowadays are faster and stronger, the aerodynamics and mechanical differences, some things go over your head, but you know the basics of a formula 1 car.
When Charles finishes up, he sees you talking with the mechanic. He's leaning over the halo as he's showing you something, Charles smiles and walks over.
“Do you want to get in?” Charles asks and you turn to look at him startled, and excited, giddy even.
“Can I?” You ask with a grin and he nods, one of the PR crew takes out his phone to video this while another takes pictures, you're a Morelli and you're getting into the car and Charles is now back in a committed relationship so he's back in his good boy era, all things that made them want to document this happening.
“Place your foot here.” Charles says and points to a spot, you do as he says and he holds on to your waist as you wobble a little before you push yourself up and over the halo, he removes the steering wheel before you sit down and watches you as you get comfortable in his car. His smile is big on his face as you get excited.
“This is amazing.” You say and Charles puts back the steering wheel. You put your hands on the wheel. “So many buttons.”
“Can you reach the paddle?” Charles asked amused, he can tell that the seat is a bit big for you, you wiggle your leg and shake your head no.
“You should be thankful I'm shorter or I would've taken your seat.” You tease him and a few people laugh.
“You like the view from the car?” Charles asks and you nod looking up at him, he's leaning over the halo to look at you.
“Yeah, last time I was inside one I was like 6 or 7.” You tell him and he hums to himself, always finding something new about you, you were right about the fact that the booklet had many wrong things, it missed a lot as well.
At one point in the day Fred came over to say hello to you, he like everyone found out who you were.
“Ms. Morelli, it's nice to meet you.” You shake his hand and smile at the team principal.
“Please call me y/n, it's nice to meet you too.”
“It's been a while since we saw one of the Morelli's in the paddock.” Fred said and you felt Charles move a bit beside you. “haven't seen your father as well.”
“Yeah, well me and my siblings went to school and then uni and just were so busy.” You say and don't mention your father, he has a lot of influence in Ferrari. Charles has a hand on your back in comfort, it seems that after yesterday he's taken the role of comforting you, there's something that has definitely changed in your relationship, you've grown closer and you feel comfortable around each other.
“Yes of course, who knew it'll be Charles that'll bring you back.” He commented and you looked at Charles and smiled, he returned the smile with one of his own. You both knew the truth behind everything and it was killing you both to have to be lying to everyone like that, but why is it getting easier, why is it that since you've grown closer and find more about the other that it's not necessarily all lies.
The rest of the weekend went along great, you met a lot of people and as expected your name and your family's relation to Ferrari was everywhere. Those calling you a gold-digger have now turned to calling you attention seeker. You did post pictures of you to Instagram and the Ferrari team posted the video of you getting in the car, and somehow they found pictures of you in an F1 car from the 2000s, you've never seen that picture before but here it was. Charles texted you saying how you've been in a Ferrari way earlier than him, making you laugh imagining him pouting a little at the thought. After that weekend you've been texting more, talking more and just discovering everything about the other.
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A day before Charles has to fly to Monza you've both in Monaco for the 'family dinner' you've been dreading so much. You've made it to Charles's house to meet there before you head 'home'. Charles was in his bedroom finishing getting ready and you were on the sofa scrolling through your social media and texting your brothers to see when they'll be there.
“Is this okay?” Charles asks, coming out of his bedroom you look up from your phone and see him in a tan dress shirt, a blazer with a pair of dark pants, not skinny, he has one of his watches on and no other accessories. He. Looked. HOT.
“Yeah, just lose the jacket.” You say and stand up, he takes his jacket off and places it to the side. He holds his arms out for your opinion and you smile. Oh if you were a normal couple going to see your normal family, this would've been perfect. Instead you're going to see the man that's been threatening you both. You left your small carry-on at Charles' house, planning to head back to his, so you could fly out to Italy together.
Charles drove the small distance to your family house and parked in the space that's meant for you. You got a text from your brothers Telling you they're already there.
“Are you ready?” You ask Charles in the elevator.
“Yes, are you?” He doesn't want to see your father ever again, but this is much worse for you, you're related to that man.
“As I'll ever be.” You hesitate for a second before you say. “I’m sorry for what’s about to happen.”
“you don't have to.”
“I feel like I should though.” You both don't say more on the topic, as always a maid opens the door for you, and you both step inside, you're led to the formal living room, where the guests are always hosted, can't show everyone we're normal and have normal looking living rooms, oh no what will they say about us. The looks are where formal ends, because once you walk in you smile seeing how Matteo is sat with
his legs spread, and Marco is slouched in his seat, they're both being extra with it and you and your parents know it but it doesn't mean it's not funny.
"Oh y/n, dear I haven't seen you in so long." Your mum says and walks up to you kissing both your cheeks before she moves on quickly to Charles. “You must be Charles, it's good to finally meet you.”
“It's uh, it's good to meet you too.” Charles doesn't know what he expected but it wasn't this, his eyes moved from your mother to your brothers who had their sights on him, making him a bit nervous. They're protective of you, but so is he and they might not like him for marrying you, but he doesn't like them for not taking good care of you. He shakes all their hands and you exchange hugs, you don't bother saying or doing anything with your father other than a quick hello, before you both sit on a sofa together.
It's been four months since the start of this whole thing, and here you are all gathered together, the people affected, threatened, forced and orchestrated by this marriage.
"I heard you haven't won any races this season." Marco said and your eyes snapped to him, his tone is hostel, not friendly at all.
“No, RedBull has been dominating for a while." Charles says, shaking the dig thrown at him.
“He's been on podiums though.” You find yourself sticking up for Charles, he gives you a grateful look, which you return with a smile.
“So he hasn't been winning.”
“No one has been but Verstappen.” You roll your eyes at the childish behaviour your older brothers gained suddenly.
“And you grew up in Monaco?” Matteo then asks him.
“Where are you going with this?” You ask him confused by all the questions.
“What? I'm just getting to know my brother in law.” Matteo tried to act all harmless and innocent but you know your brothers well enough to know there's more to it than that.
“No you're not, please cut it out, it's not like we're all here because we want to anyways.” Your mum gasps, you give her a look, why is she acting like this is normal? You're all been forced to be here and as innocent as she likes to act, she's always in on what your father is up to. She knows everything.
“Let's move to the dining room, why don't we?” your father says and stands up, he thrived on chaos so he's happy how things are right now, split and concur is his favourite method. Charles takes your hand in his, making you pause and look at him he mouths 'it's okay,' and you nod and try to return the smile but you’re not confident and it shows.
Your mum made your brothers sit next to each other so you and Charles sat next to each other, he's closest to your mother and you're next to your father. Food was already laid out for all of you, the start of the meal was silent.
“You know y/n, I'm so happy you're finally in a relationship.” Your mother suddenly says and you stop the fork from reaching your mouth to look at her like she's crazy.
“What are you talking about?” Did she mean you and Charles or something else?
“I'm talking about you and Charles, you silly girl.” You scoff and place your fork on the table.
“You do know that we're forced right? You were here when your husband told me.” Your father sighs not liking where this is going, he's okay with you and your brothers doing whatever to each other but for a twisted reason that is not love he hates when you speak back to your mother.
“Yes mother, and besides, Charles isn't really a golden boy to be proud of having as a son-in-law.” Marco takes the chance to bring Charles in again, he's showing him that he doesn't approve of him.
“You know if you didn't like it, why didn't you stop this?” Charles asks Marco, he's tired of being blamed and the one taking the hits when the person responsible for all of this is sitting two seats down from him.
“Because he threatened to cut us off and stop us from working.” Marco was getting agitated and angry.
“Marco shut up!” You exasperated.
“And what? You let your sister take the fall for you, so you could live happily.” Charles shot back, anger for you cursing through his veins.
“Everyone calm down.” Your mum tried to reason but everyone ignored her.
“Oh so you think you care more about her than we do, now?” Matteo sneers and you groan, this testosterone fight is only going to lead to chaos.
“I wasn't the one who left her alone.”
“Okay, you all shut up right now!” your father shouted and everyone fell silent again. “This is unacceptable, Charles and y/n will be married, and you're all going to be happy about it and that's the last I'll hear of it.”
“So now you're telling us how to feel?” The words leave your mouth before you realise, Charles takes your hand in his, and you slowly look from the plate you had in front of you and up to your father, there’s not going back now. “You've dictated our lives, and even now we're all adults you're making us do what you want, we've done
everything you've asked, but you've never been happy, we were never good enough for you.”
“Don't talk back to me.”
“No, it's not fair, you sold me to someone you don't know, I'm your daughter.” You say and turn to look at your mother. “And you keep acting like you love us, when you know everything and just do nothing, you've never stood up to us.” She takes a sip from her wine glass. “Yes, that's all you do, drink.” You stand up and throw your napkin on the plate. “Let's go Charles.”
Charles stands up and follows you out, as your father shouts after you. “You stop right there you stupid girl.”
“I'll get married, okay, I'll do it, I'll do everything in the contract, anything other than that is none of your business.” You say not turning to look at him as you spoke those words and leave your hand clutching Charles's tightly.
Charles doesn't let go of your hand, and it gives you comfort, you have someone on your side at all times now, looking at Charles you're happy it's him you'll marry and not someone else.
“Thank you.” Your voice is just over a whisper, the dinner took too much out of you.
“Why? I don't think I've made it better.”
“No, you made it all so much better.” Charles sends you a questioning look, tightening your hold on his hand. “You were by my side.”
“I'll always be on your side.” Charles says and your heart skips a beat, there, he's done it, Charles Leclerc has done it, he has your heart, it belongs to him now and there's nothing you or anyone could do to change this. Charles doesn't let go of your hand when you arrive, he just holds your hand when you're walking off to his house, not in the elevator, not until you walk in. “Come on, I think we need to talk.”
You sit on the sofa with your legs under you and Charles also sits down facing you.
“I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago.” Charles starts, your heart beats faster in your chest as your eyes meet and you both don't look away. “Why did you agree to this marriage?”
“Because my father said if I don't he’ll cut us all off, he'll make sure none of us ever find work again, and my brothers, they have families and children, I couldn't let him do that to them.” you tell him and push your hair back. “I was happy the last couple of years in Italy and then he just dropped the bomb on me, and… here we are.”
“Here we are.”
“Why did you agree to it?” You've had your theories at the start of this relationship, but as you've gotten to know Charles you realised how wrong you are.
“I know you've read all the articles about me, it's a long story but I've been with my girlfriend for almost five years when I found out she was cheating on me.- Charles said his voice soft, making you take his hand in yours and give him a squeeze. “I spiraled after that, other than racing which isn't going great, I was always drinking and sleeping around, it affected me her cheating more than I thought it'd ever way, it just shocked me and left me not knowing what to do, my reputation was going down and the sponsors were getting anxiety so your father told me if I don't agree to this I'd kiss my dream goodbye, no future in Formula 1, and I couldn't, it's been my dream and I promised my father I'd do everything I could to be world champion and..."
“You haven't made it yet.”
“No, not yet.” You smile before you laugh, Charles looks at you like you're crazy and you shake your head. “Sorry, it's just so messed up, this whole thing is just so messed up.”
”It is.” Charles chuckles and you sigh, this is all a bit too much. “But I’m glad it’s you.”
An involuntary smile makes its way to your face, you just melted, heart skipping a beat and butterflies in your stomach. the whole shebang.
“I’m happy it’s you too, Charlie.” Hearing you call him Charlie makes him smile, your gaze not straying from the other, basking in the moment, a moment you could ignore everything and everyone, a moment that’s just between you too. Maybe this whole arranged marriage thing will be okay in the end.
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Next day you both fly out in Charles’s private jet with his family and team, Lorenzo is still standoffish, but now that you know that he’s in on everything you don’t blame him. He’s not rude to you at all, but he’s cold, something that you attributed to how he was raised. Even though he knows his brother is forced into it, he hasn’t been rude after the first time you met, when he just found out the truth.
The plane landed in Milan where you live, but you went with the family to Monza for the race, promising to take Charles to your studio after the weekend.
The first two days, media and FP1-2, go like how all the other races go, this time you’ve met more drivers, you met Pierre and Kika are one of the ones you met and was found talking to. You and the model exchanged details and followed each other on Instagram, you all went out to have dinner after media day, and you and Kika sat together talking all the time, with Charles and Pierre sat on each side of you not understanding how two people who just met could have this much to talk about and how you talk about everything.
pierregasly posted to their story
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caption[ I think i lose my girlfriend @/charles_leclerc]
Charles_leclerc reposted to his story
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Caption [looks like it mate]
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Lorenzo was watching the both of you with hawk eyes, he felt like things have changed between the two of you or you’ve become better actors, because why does Charles have his hand on the back of your chair, why is your hands laced together a lot, why are you leaning into him, are do you have inside jokes and share those knowing looks. You’re having deep conversation, a closeness and ease that hasn’t been there before. So he takes the moment you went to Charles’s driver’s room to leave your bag there and took his brother to the side.
”What’s going on with you and y/n?” Enzo asked Charles, his brows furrowing.
”What are you talking about?” Charles asked, his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding, he’s been denying his growing feelings for you, but it seemed like his brother picked up on it. “We’re just trying to make the best of a… difficult situation.”
Lorenzo wasn’t convinced he knew Charles, he knows there’s more to it.
“Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself, Charles.” Lorenzo said his tone leaving no space for argument. “I can see the way you look at her, the way you care about her, you like her, and I think she likes you too.”
For a moment Charles was silent, his mind racing with emotions and he’s thinking about the time you’ve come to share together and how he’s been enjoying it. he had spent so long denying his feelings for you, burying them down, he tried to tell himself that no he doesn’t find you the prettiest most beautiful woman he has ever met, he hates when you go on rants about the things you love, he hates that you’ve picked up on so many habits he has and have come to understand him, he hates how you’re passionate and warm and kind and soft and elegant, he hates it, he just hates it. But here he is standing in front of his brother, the walls that have been down for a while are just made apparent to him, he just realised them. He nods, and a smile slowly appears on his face.
”Yeah, I do, I do like her.” Charles says his eyes are not meeting his brother’s as he’s lost in thought, his brows move slightly together and then he’s shaking his head no. “No, actually I love her.”
Lorenzo’s expression softened at his brother’s admission, a sense of understanding coming over him. “Then just embrace it, and let her know.”
”I just wish we met under different circumstances.” Charles confessed, his voice tinged with regret. “But either way, I’m just glad that fate brought y/n into my life.”
And as they stood there in the hustle and bustle of the garage, Charles knew that he’s ready, he’s ready to tell you what he feels and maybe start dating for real this time, have a samples of normality in your relationship before you get married.
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After Sunday, Charles’s family flies back to Monaco and the Ferrari driver comes with you to Milan.
“Promise me you won’t judge.” You say to Charles after you turn to look at him, your studio’s key is already in the door waiting for you to twist it.
”I promise, mon amour.” Charles says and your face lights up at his pet name, you couch and turn to face the door.
”Didn’t have to say that.” You mutter and feel your cheeks turn pink, you open the door and lead Charles in, the big windows let in so much light but you go and turn on the light as well. The studios was spacious with high ceiling, paintings where leaning on the wall, a couple were covered, there was pain stains on the ground on the walls, there was a small kitchen to the side and a bathroom, there’s a pull out sofa against one wall with a few chairs littering the place and table with wheels, a table with no wheels, drawers of supplies and easels. This place truly looked like an artist's dream, it was messy but organised, it was all you.
”Wow.” Charles says and walks to the wall that had paintings on it, you follow him, keeping your eyes on him as you take in every little reaction he has. “You’re so talented y/n.”
”Thank you.” You reply softly. “You can flip through the paintings if you want, I'll make us tea.”
Charles has seen a lot of your work on your instagram and you’ve shown him a lot but seeing them in real life he realised they weren’t given justice with the photos, there’s so much detail in the work you’ve done, each brush stroke pressed with intention. Charles moved to the two covered ones, they were on the big size, his curiosity got the best of him and he pulled the fabric down.
”Wait Charles-“ It was too late, he saw them, his mouth hanging open as he stared at… himself.
“That’s-that’s me.” You sigh feeling embarrassed, your face turning red.
”Yeah.” You mumble and cough.
”Fucking hell, mon amour.” Charles turns to look at you and you’re looking away refusing to look in his direction, his eyes soften at your embarrassment. Charles walks up to you and you’re refusing to look at him, so gently cups your cheeks and your eyes meet his, getting lost in the shades of blue and green in his eyes. the shades you know from memory, the colours you painted and brought to life on your canvas. Charle’s breath gets caught in his throat, the words he was planning to say slipping from his mind, so he just presses his lips to yours, you gasp a little before following his lead, your hands clutching his shirt. It’s a moment of vulnerability, the product of simmering feelings that bubbled to reach the surface. your kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and desperate with each passing moment, as you’re trying to pour all your pent-up feeling, emotions and desires into this single electrifying moment. You move closer, your bodies pressed together, holding to each other’s curves, the intensity bordering on desperation.
When you broke apart, gasping for breath Charles’s hands are still cupping your face, his eyes ablaze with fire that threatened to consume you both.
”I love you, y/n.” He whispered, his voice raw with emotion, your heart swelled with joy at his words, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reaches up to caress his cheek.
“And I love you Charles, with everything that I am.”
With a shared understanding and longing and love you sealed the moment with another searing kiss, letting together us a oissionate embrace that seemed to stretch on forever. In that moment, amidst the quietness of the studio, you were no longer bound by a contract, but by the pure and unadulterated love for each other. In each other’s arms you’ve found the only solace and sanctuary you’ve ever needed or wanted.
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It’s not to say that everything turned out to be what you wanted, in a couple months and while Charles was on his winter break your wedding was set. There was no talking your father out of it, but you weren’t dreading the moment anymore. You know that fate was going to bring you together in the end, one way or the other. Yes you’d still be dating, but in the end you’d get engaged and then married. Speaking of engaged, Charles did propose to you, it was a private event, only the two of you on his yacht away from prying eyes, with soft music playing in the background. The monegasque got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Ignoring the fact that you’re bound by a contact you agreed instantly, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face.
But here you are now standing across from Charles, your eyes locked in a silent exchange if understanding, the weight of their circumstances hung heavy in the air. The officiant, cleared his throat and said his words singling to you to start your vows.
Charles took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he spoke his voice steady yet laced with emotions.
”y/n, I know that our beginning is not the one we would’ve liked for each other, but I’m glad that it did. But I know that fate has intertwined our future together, one way or the other I would’ve made my way to you. In you, I have found a companion, a confidante and a source of strength. I vow to stand by your side through everything that may come our way, to support you, to cherish you and to love you with all that I am, for as long as we live.”
Your heart swelled with emotion as you listened to Charles’ words, your eyes shining with unshed tears. You took a moment to compose yourself before speaking your voice soft but unwavering.
“Charles, Charlie.” You begin and your voice starts to tremble with emotion the more you speak. “When we first met I never imagined that our paths would be so intertwined, that I’d reach a point where I can’t imagine living without you. In you I have found a partner in crime, in life. You’ve showed me so much love that I never experienced before and for that I’ll be always grateful, I vow to stand by your side to be on your team, to lift you up when you falter, to love you unconditionally and with every fibre of my being.”
In that moment, those who doubted you, those that thought they won, those that wished your relationship would end, all knew that as you shared your first kiss as husband and wife, that you’re a team, a family, and that nothing can bring you down. You made each other stronger, you made each other happy, and you had your whole futures in front of you to heal all the wounds you had in the past, you’ll both grow and heal and live together.
Your journey is far from over, there’s so much that you’ll face. But you’ll face it together in each other’s arms, where you felt the purest kind of happiness.
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sirenedeslily · 17 days
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𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 ‎𐦍 𝐦atthew 𝐬turniolo
❛ be my video obsession. ❜
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(⊹ֹ 𝐢𝐧 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 ) ──── ⟢ when matt mentions his girlfriend, his fans instantly erupt in excitement, pleading for him to invite her on the live stream.
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matt slumped back into his chair, the dim glow of his monitors casting soft, shifting shadows across his face. the steady rhythm of rain tapping against the window filled the room, blending seamlessly with the gentle melodies playing in the background. it wasn’t his usual stream playlist—this one was filled with warm, comforting songs that wrapped around him like a familiar blanket. the kind of music that made you feel like everything would be okay, even on a dreary day. his fingers tapped idly on the edge of his desk, following the slow, soothing rhythm.
his eyes flickered to the twitch chat, watching the comments race by in their usual frenzy—inside jokes, random questions, and declarations of love. the stream chat scrolled rapidly, filled with messages from fans reacting to everything from his commentary to the choice of music. “matthew bernard sturniolo, what do you know about jeff buckley?” he couldn’t help but let a small smile curl at the corner of his lips.
“i know everything about jeffrey scott buckley, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice softer than usual, almost in tune with the rain outside. “he’s my girlfriend’s favourite artist.”
that one word, “girlfriend,” sent the chat into chaos. messages flooded in faster than he could read them, demanding to see her, to bring her onto the stream. he chuckled softly, shaking his head as he read the scrolling frenzy of reactions. “alright, alright,” he muttered, pulling out his phone to send a quick text.
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the moments that followed felt like an eternity. matt could see the anticipation in the chat, his own nerves buzzing under his skin. when the door to his room creaked open and yn stepped inside, the chat exploded again. you were hesitant, your steps slow, your eyes wide at the sheer number of viewers on the screen. nerves instantly kicked in. matt noticed your unease immediately. without missing a beat, he turned away from the chat and focused entirely on his girlfriend.
matt’s eyes met yours, his expression softening. “hey,” he greeted softly, his voice a calm anchor in the swirling storm of your anxiety. “just look at me, okay? don’t worry about them,” he whispered, reaching out to pull you onto his lap.
“sorry about the ambush,” he said with a chuckle, his eyes locked onto yours, deliberately avoiding the screen. “they got excited, and i got caught up in it.”
you nodded, a small smile breaking through your initial apprehension. “it’s okay,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
gradually, as matt continued to talk to you—ignoring the chat’s frenzy and focusing on your private little world—you began to loosen up. you glanced at the camera and then back at matt, who was still looking at you with that comforting grin. you laughed softly, and it was like a breath of fresh air.
“you always make it seem so easy,” you said, shaking your head. “i feel like i’m forgetting how to talk.”
“that’s ‘cause you’re overthinking it,” he teased, nudging you gently. “just be your pretty self.”
“easier said than done,” you mumbled, nestling further into his arms, needing to feel him to ease some of your nerves. matt felt you sigh out anxiously as you tried to read the chat, sensing your overwhelmed state with each passing second.
“how about i read off some of the questions for you, angel?” he murmured softly, his lips grazing the side of your face. you nodded in response, visibly relieved.
matt glanced back at the chat, his eyes skimming over the questions that piled up, each one more curious or chaotic than the last. his hand rested on your waist, his thumb gently tracing comforting circles as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear.
“okay, let’s see,” he said, scrolling through the messages with one hand while keeping you close with the other. “someone asked, ‘what character do you resonate with the most?’” he read it out loud, his voice soft and soothing, as if speaking to you alone.
you hummed, still a little shy but feeling more secure in matt’s arms. “that’s a tough one,” you began, your voice gaining a bit more confidence. “but probably molly from the movie uptown girls.” you answered softly, the warmth of matt’s touch and the comfort of his presence giving you more courage. “i just love her spirit,” you continued, settling more comfortably in his lap. “she’s chaotic and kind of a mess, but she’s also so full of life. she doesn’t have everything figured out, but she’s got a big heart, and she loves fearlessly—even when she gets hurt.”
matt nodded, his gaze steady on yours, filled with that quiet admiration he often wore when he watched you talk about something you cared about. “she’s definitely more of someone who i wish to be,” you finished, looking at matt’s attentive gaze and back at the chat.
"she's got those big, doe eyes just like yours—always looking at the world with wonder."
matt’s comment made you blush, and you nudged him gently with your elbow. “you think so?” you asked, a smile breaking across your face despite the shyness creeping back in. the way he looked at you—with that kind of softness, like you were the only thing in the world worth focusing on—made your heart flutter in your chest.
“yeah,” he said, his voice low and sincere. his thumb continued to draw comforting circles on your side, keeping you grounded.
the chat seemed to explode in response, the viewers reacting to matt’s sweet words. you could feel your cheeks burning a bit, but there was no way to hide the grin spreading across your face. you tucked your head against his shoulder, momentarily overwhelmed by the attention. “okay, enough about me,” you said, still smiling but trying to deflect the focus back. “what about you? what character do you resonate with, silly boy?”
he chuckled, raising his eyebrows playfully at the use of the nickname. “well, when you put it like that, it sounds like a loaded question,” he joked, then took a moment to think. “but obviously, dipper from gravity falls.”
you laughed softly, already knowing that it would be his answer, seeing as he has always felt passionate about this topic and felt that his similarities to the character just had to be vocalized any chance he got.
matt smiled, a bit more subdued this time, but there was a light in his eyes.
the chat kept buzzing with comments, some agreeing with their choices and others throwing in their own suggestions. you glanced over, feeling a little more comfortable now. “they’re saying you could also be a charlie from perks of being a wallflower,” you pointed out, teasing him slightly.
matt laughed, leaning his head back. “i guess i give off that vibe, huh? quiet, introspective… a little awkward,” he joked, and you couldn’t help but giggle.
“maybe just a bit,” you agreed, squeezing his hand. “but i think it’s cute.”
leaning your head against his shoulder, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. the sound of rain tapping against the window, the soft, comforting music in the background, and matt’s gentle presence all wrapped around you like a warm blanket. and even though thousands of eyes were watching, for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, sharing this quiet, intimate space.
“matt or boba?”
your soft chuckle broke the tranquil silence, drawing matt's attention as your eyes caught a playful comment from the chat. “boba,” you said with a smile, your voice light and teasing.
matt arched an eyebrow, glancing over at you with a bemused expression. “what?” he asked, not quite understanding why you’d suddenly blurt out such a random word. his confusion was written all over his face—the way his messy brows pulled together, his eyes locked on yours with that piercing intensity, and his lips parted ever so slightly, the way they always did when he was puzzling something out.
the sight made you smile even more. without a word, you leaned in and brushed your lips against his, a soft, fleeting kiss that ended far too quickly for matt’s liking. as you pulled away, he let out a quiet, almost inaudible whine, a sound that was just for you, given the close proximity between the both of you.
“such a fuckin’ tease,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips, eyes searching yours with a hint of playful longing. it was the kind of look that made you want to forget about the stream, the chat, and everything else—just to savor the moment a little longer.
as the stream continued, you began to ease into the rhythm, finding your footing in the chaotic swirl of comments and questions. the warmth of matt’s body beneath you, the steadiness of his hand on your waist, and the sound of his voice were like anchors, grounding you amidst the wild energy of his audience. slowly, your nerves faded away, replaced by a growing sense of comfort.
“so, what’s the deal with you and enya?” one of the viewers asked, the question catching your eye. a grin tugged at your lips as you thought of your best friend.
“enya is honestly my favourite being,” you said, a soft smile blooming across your face. “we’ve been through so much together, and it’s one of those rare friendships where you just know the other person gets you, you know?” you paused, your eyes softening as you recalled your recent time with her. “just the other night, we baked this apple pie and decorated it with a bow from the leftover dough, and then we had a movie marathon. we ended up staying up way too late, just laughing and talking about everything and nothing at all. she feels like home to me.”
the chat lit up with messages about how pure and wholesome your friendship sounded. you felt yourself relaxing further, the anxiety melting away as you spoke about the things you loved.
the soft melody of clairo’s “harbor” began playing in the background, and you noticed matt humming along to the lyrics, almost absentmindedly. the viewers, as expected, went wild.
you couldn’t help but laugh, nudging him lightly. “okay, okay, let’s set the record straight,” you began, a teasing lilt to your voice. “he only knows this song because i forced him to listen to sling on repeat after he tried to convince the fandom on being a ‘huge’ clairo fan,” you laughed, looking at your boyfriend's pouty face.
“‘s not funny,” he mumbled, though his eyes were crinkling at the corners with a smile.
“you weren’t able to name a single song out of her album until i forced you to listen to her discography,” you animatedly exclaimed, looking at the chat as you told them, “so this whole ‘matthew is so boyfriend he knows clairo’s deep cuts’ is all thanks to me.”
he laughed, leaning his forehead against yours. “alright, you caught me, baby,” he admitted.
the conversation flowed effortlessly from there, touching on your shared interests and recent obsessions. when someone suggested a “media of the week” segment, you lit up, excited to share your thoughts. “okay, okay, let’s shift gears a bit,” matt interjected, leaning forward to look at the chat. “a lot of you keep asking about our media of the week. you wanna go first, angel?” he nudged you gently.
you nodded, relaxing more into his hold, feeling the excitement bubbling up inside her. “i’ve been reading heaven by mieko kawakami,” you began, your voice picking up a more passionate tone as you started explaining your thoughts. “it’s… heartbreaking and beautiful, all at once. the way kawakami writes about bullying, loneliness, and the fragility of youth—it’s so raw and poignant. it kind of makes you feel like you’re carrying a weight in your chest, but in a good way, if that makes any sense? like, it hurts, but it also makes you feel seen.”
matt listened intently, nodding along, his gaze focused on you as if you were the only person in the room. “sounds like you’re really into it,” he said, his voice soft. “i’m gonna have to steal it from you when you’re done.”
“good luck,” you retorted playfully. “i might just read it a second time to piss you off.”
he laughed, his thumb tracing slow circles on your waist again. “okay, my turn. i’ve been reading dead poets society because, you know, the movie hit me in a way i wasn’t expecting. figured the book would be even better. and man, it’s just… so much more introspective. the whole thing about seizing the day, about living for your own passions instead of what’s expected of you… i think i needed to hear that,” he admitted, his tone growing a bit more serious.
the chat started spamming with comments about their own experiences with the book and movie, sharing how it changed their lives or inspired them. you smiled, reaching over to brush a stray lock of hair from matt’s face. “see? i knew you’d love it,” you said softly. “it’s the kind of thing that sticks with you.”
matt nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent a flutter through your chest. “yeah, well, i’ve got you to thank for that,” he said.
“speaking of things you have me to thank for,” you chimed in with a grin, “i made matt watch little women for the first time recently, and he has thoughts.”
“oh, here we go,” matt groaned, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his enjoyment.
you leaned in, eager and animated. “i just don’t understand how this boy managed to go this long without seeing it? disgraceful. tell them what you thought.”
matt chuckled, leaning back slightly. “i gotta admit, it was way better than i expected. i mean, i went in thinking it’d be some boring period drama, but it’s actually… really good. the dialogue? it just feels so alive, you know?”
the chat agreed with a chorus of messages, and you nodded eagerly, jumping in. “right,” you continued, leaning forward with excitement. “i need all of my editors in the fandom to get to work: ‘bite the hand’ by boygenius as the audio with clips of jo and laurie. like, the lyrics are just… them. ‘i can’t love you how you want me to.’ it’s perfect. i need an edit of them to that song,” you ranted, your hands gesturing animatedly.
matt watched you with an amused smile. “someone in the chat better make that edit happen, ‘cause my girl has had this vision for weeks now.”
the viewers were already responding with promises to create the edit, and you felt a little spark of joy at the idea.
matt laughed at your enthusiasm, his eyes bright with amusement. “i’m so proud of you, pretty girl, overcoming your anxiety to be here. you’re so damn passionate about everything.”
“can’t help it,” you replied, shrugging playfully. “i just love stories that make you feel something.”
the chat buzzed with excitement as they both continued sharing their thoughts, and it wasn’t long before someone mentioned winnie the pooh.
“oh, don’t even get us started on winnie the pooh,” you said, your eyes lighting up.
matt immediately perked up, a grin spreading across his face. “okay, but listen,” he began, leaning forward slightly. “eeyore is my guy. he’s just… real, you know? like, everyone’s so busy trying to be happy all the time, but eeyore is like, ‘nah, i’m gonna be me, and that’s enough.’ i respect that.”
you laughed, nodding along. “and i adore pooh. he’s just so pure and kind and always looking out for his friends. plus, his whole thing about appreciating the simple things in life? i think we could all use a little more of that.”
as you both talked about their love for the winnie the pooh franchise, you started showing off you collections—vintage books, stuffed animals, figurines, and even a couple of blankets with the characters on them. the chat exploded with messages about how wholesome it all was, with fans showing off their own collections in response.
hopping up from matt’s lap with an excited grin, matt looked at you with a confused expression as he felt your loss of contact. “i got us these sylvanian families blind bags, and we’re gonna unbox them right now.”
matt chuckled, his eyes following you as you hurried back over with the tiny packages. “you’re so cute when you get all excited like this,” he said softly, his voice just for you.
you blushed but didn’t let it distract you. “okay, here we go,” you announced, tearing open her bag to reveal a tiny buckley red deer dressed in a red romper with an apple on its head. “oh my god, look at this little cutie!” you exclaimed, showing it to the camera.
matt followed suit, opening his bag to reveal a walnut squirrel baby in a brown romper with a little acorn cap on its head. “look at this guy,” he said, holding it up for the chat. “did you know these little caps are called cupules?”
you both laughed, making the two tiny figures kiss in front of the camera as the chat went wild, suggesting names for your new babies
matt leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “think we should wrap it up?” he whispered.
nodding in response, matt took the initiative to end the livestream. “alright, i think that’s a perfect note to end on,” matt said, his voice warm and content. “thanks for hanging out with us, guys. i’ll see you next time.”
with a final kiss between the tiny figures, you both waved goodbye to the stream, sharing a private smile as the screen went dark. the room felt cozy and quiet once more, filled only with the soft hum of the rain outside and the warmth of each other’s presence.
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ᨳུ⠀𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ! @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @l34n @sturniolossss @eternaldecisions @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @chratts-left-ball @fiowerbeds @fratbrochrisgf
𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ me 🤝 adding the nichest shit in my fics and making my characters losers bc of it 😭😭 3k w.c ! hoping that this wasn’t too boring, please send in requests or asks of what u want to see in my blog or just to talk to me i beeeeeeg !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
my inbox is always open !!! pls feed it some content ꫶ࣺ᭮᭰ likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated. xoxo
© SIRENEDESLILY 2024
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zhukzucraft · 4 months
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=> Be Mumbo
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Mumbo: Good Lord that explosion went off right in my ear
Mumbo: Oh this is dire! I can't believe I'm the first one out and-
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Mumbo: and uh
Mumbo: this
Mumbo: this isn't spawn
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Mumbo: !!!
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==================================================== Be not afraid, Before you stands a decision. With your soulmate, a bond has been made Shall you forsake them? Will you betray? Say yes, you cast them away But if your mate does the same Down to crimson, both without delay No more kinship from this day Say no and love them still Pray they commit to you as well Then in yellow both will chill Together forever, as you will And if you both do disagree Best pray you were the one to leave For the yes will remain in green The other cast red, the bond broken between ====================================================
Mumbo: i
Mumbo: wait
Mumbo: I'll go down to red if my soulmate breaks up with me??
Mumbo: Oh this is bad! Of course they'd want to, I just caused our death!
Mumbo: Who even is my soulmate? Why doesn't the chat load in this place??
Mumbo: Oh no oh no what do I DO
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====================================================Your soulmate has made their choice. What will yours be? ====================================================
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=> Mumbo: Make your choice
Start Over -- Go Back
VOTING FINISHED! preserving the rest of the post for posterity
================================================
SURPRISE! Additional gimmick!
(credit for the kickass poem goes to @findingschmomo THANK YOU SO MUCH BABE)
To clarify, both soulmates are presented with this choice upon first death, but here we will only get to make the choice for Mumbo.
This functions pretty much exactly like Prisoners' Dilemma. If both Mumbo and Skizz choose to preserve the bond, they will go down to yellow and the game will proceed as normal. If only one of them choses to break the bond, then this person will go back to being green, but the other will go down to red. If both choose to break the bond, then they will both go down to red. And if one or both break the bond, then they will no longer be soulmates - hearts and lives no longer linked.
Hopefully this explanation is clear enough - if not please do send in questions!
And if you're seeing this after the voting is finished - don't worry, there will be 9 more opportunities in the future to influence soulmates' destiny like this
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railingsofsorrow · 5 months
Text
we'll be alright
[spencer reid x reader]
summary: the one where it's the team's night out after a few long weeks of work and you're finally relaxing... not really. because you have a secret that's brewing your insides out.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader
w.c: 2.4K
warnings/content: mentions of pregnancy symptoms; sleep deprivation; alcohol; jj being a good friend; discussion about choices; fearing one's reaction; yk spencer reid the best (only) man on earth.
A/N: I planned this to be a small drabble... anyways, enjoy this blurb while I finish up a few requests.
navi
masterpost
cm masterlist
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“what are you doing?”
“chill, jj. I'm not drinking.”
you roll your eyes at the blonde casting you a suspicious look when she walks over. you don't know why she did it, to be honest. everyone seemed to be having fun over at the table, you just felt too uncomfortable and had to take a breath of fresh air outside. when you came back, you sat down by the counter, the bartender placed a red drink in front of you claiming it was from a guy across the bar. you didn't look, you didn't care. you push it aside with an eye roll and stick to the glass of soda you had previously ordered.
“are you okay?” her sympathetic voice is too much for you to bear right now, so you inhale sharply, actually thinking about downing that whole red drink in a go but you're one hundred percent sure certain jj would knock it off before it reaches your mouth. “sorry. I won't ask.”
“i'm just... confused.” you shrug, playing with the hem of the glass, tongue traveling over your lips. they are pretty dry, you can't remember the last time you drank water. “you don't have to keep an eye on me, jj. seriously, I'll be back in a second. I'm just... thinking.”
“have you told him?”
“no.”
her brows pull together. and before she can offer you her unwanted advice, you cut her off.
“don't tell me he has the right to know or anything like that. I know, okay? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to do. but I have a right to process everything on my own as well and I'm doing just fine doing that. for now.” you don't mean to snap, acknowledging the fact that jj means well, but you're tired of hearing obvious things about the situation and none of them did anything to help easing your nerves.
seems like people cared more about spencer's opinion on the matter rather than your own, when it is, in fact, a matter that you are carrying.
“i was gonna say take your time. you don't need to have it all figured out right this second.” you glance up at her, doubtful. jj gives your shoulder a squeeze and casts you a reassuring smile that almost sends you to jump in her arms to be coddled. “you're not on your own. I know it can be overwhelming, trust me, but you can talk to me anytime you want, okay? when you're ready.”
you smile for what felt like the first time in the night. relief swallowing down a bit of the nervousness rumbling through your chest.
“thanks, jayge,” you say.
jj gives you a wink. she leaves you alone after that and you enjoy a few minutes on your own when a familiar and welcoming touch trails down your back.
“you're quiet.” spencer eyes something above your head with hard eyes and his gaze immediately melts when it falls upon you.
“marking territory, doctor reid?” you tease, noticing the jealousy by his tells. his tries at being inconspicuous are foolish, but you like it.
he flushes red, clearing his throat and mumbling I don't know what you're talking about under his breath.
you hum, resting your chin against your palm as you look up at him. “i'm always quiet.”
“not like that.” spencer points out, tilting his head as his lips stretch into a soft smile. his gaze says I know you. you can't fool me. and he's 100% right, you can't. “is everything okay?” he questions, fingers grazing your upper arm in a way that it almost causes you close your eyes and give in to sleep right there. the truth is that you haven't been sleeping for three whole days. tossing and turning and feeding the nightmare in your head that all would go to shit. your relationship, you mean. the most solid thing you have going on for you, you'd screw that up. personally, you're a fan of facing the problem right away so you could get rid of it quickly. but this is neither a problem — not for you — nor you could fix it.
“i have something to tell you.” you swallow with difficulty. “but I- I don't know how.”
“okay.” he caresses your arm, brows knitting together in slight concern. “do you want to go home? is that okay for you?”
you sigh, hand traveling cross your face. “i don't want you to stop having fun because—”
“i wasn't having fun.” spencer is quick to cut you off albeit gently like he always is. “i was basically begging for you to call it a night so we could leave.”
a surprise laugh escapes out of you. you believe that.
“okay.” you nod, convinced. and a little less anxious to be honest. it's not like you'd say what you want to say in the middle of a crowded bar filled with drunk people. “yeah, we can, we can go home.”
“great.” he kisses your temple and waits for you to accompany him to your friend's table so you can bid your goodbyes. the first indication that something is off was your withdraw nature throughout the entire day. not that you weren't doing your job perfectly fine, you were. but your mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters to this very moment now. the second indication was when you said you'd get a drink and never came back. he found you by the bar with, in deed, a drink before you. then, he knew he had to say something.
“where are your keys?” spencer asks, adjusting the leather strap on his shoulder as you stride out of the pub. you lift the car keys between your fingers and he outreaches a hand towards it to which your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “you drank, didn't you?”
your face smoothes out in understanding, “no.” he regards you with uncertainty. “i didn't,” you repeat with an eyeroll. “i can't. I ordered that one but I didn't touch it. if you wanna drive though, be my guest.” he takes the keys in the first chance and you just chuckle softly, walking to the opposite side and entering the car. when you finally adjust yourself in the seat, you let out a long breath in relief. your feet are killing you as well as your head. not to mention the dizziness coming back and forth.
you don't open you eyes when something presses against your torso, you know it's spencer buckling up your seatbelt that you had forgotten.
“what did you mean by you can't drink?” the peaceful silence is broken by spencer's gentle tone. he'd look over at you every few minutes, trying to point out if the cause for your pale cheeks is the faint light of the car or something else. your eyes are shut but he knows you are not sleeping by the constant shifting in your seat.
“what?” you stumble on an answer and that's the best you are able to come up with.
“you said I can't.”
“you're correcting my misspellings now?”
spencer's eyes widen slightly. when the traffic light turns red, he quickly turns to you ready to apologise. but he sees your smirk and backs down, letting out a sigh.
“no,” he says, rolling his eyes. there is still something unsettling about your behavior, he can't point out what. sometimes it just happened, that feeling. he knew something was off without a single glance your way. the red light turned green before he can carry on speaking.
he does it anyway, though his eyes are stuck to the avenue and not on you as he plans to.
“are you okay?”
silence. and then,
“why do you ask?” your voice is soft, almost uncertain. you are hesitant and holding back. something is definitely wrong.
“you're withdrawal. you look tired and you didn't sleep well last night. I'm fairly sure you're a bit pale since this morning.” you're groaning beside him and spencer frowns. you finally arrive at your apartment and he takes a while to park before he turns the engine off. “are you sick? do you have the flu? migraines? cause we could have gone straight home tonight, you know that right? do you have a fev—”
“stop, spencer.” you mumble before his hands reach your forehead to check your temperature. you hate that he notices so much so fast. even though he's quiet about it, spencer is always paying attention. always. “it's not— I'm not sick. don't worry.”
“i'm still worrying.” he replies matter-of-fact, earning a scowl from you. he isn't phased. “should we go to the hospital?”
you huff like a five year old. “i just told you I'm not sick.”
“and I don't believe you.”
somehow, you wish he noticed more so you didn't had to say the truth out loud.
“i'm not sick.” your tone was sharp though you avoid it, it was just how it came out. you were sick of that subject.
spencer frowns. he stops himself before he could ask if you were sure of that statement.
“but I might get sick.” you utter under your breath, unsure about saying it out loud but you already did it. spencer turns to you after he takes off his shoes, a pet peeve of yours is that you hate dirty shoes around the apartment. there's always a few pairs of flipflops by the doorstep in case you have visitors. or they can just walk around in their socks, you had no problem with that, which is what spencer did. “... once in a while.”
“what is going on?” spencer approaches you slowly, his concern starting to create a thousand of theories inside his head. “really, I'm worried—”
“i'm pregnant.” you let out and release the breath you've been holding for what felt like hours. there. it's done. when you open your eyes, you don't look at him but walk straight in the direction of your room. spencer is hot on your heels. you just wanted to shower.
“what— you're— what do you mean?” his frantic voice almost makes you laugh if you weren't so tired with a headache brewing.
“i really need to take a long shower, spencer.”
“I—” he blinks, studying you for a moment before he swallows all of his questions and he sees. he sees what's going on and why your behaviour has been off these days. spencer's very observant, but sometimes he can let one or two hints wander off his radar. “okay.” he wants to hold you but he stays in his spot. if you want space, that's what he will give you. “do you need me to prepare you a bath?” he prays you say yes but you shake your head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door.
he lowers himself down on the edge of bed and stares at nothing as his thoughts swirls around the signs being thrown at his face the whole week. the morning sickness. not being able to stand the smell of any perfume. a sudden dizziness... fuck. how could he have been so clueless?
spencer admits he's always beeng good at physics and chemistry and statistics and he's constantly praised for picking up certain behaviours in his line of work, but he sucks at social cues and most of the times he misses the joke in a room or your sarcasm — though he's infinitely better at detecting that.
he takes pride in knowing you. your little quirks such as the way you press your lips together when you're uncomfortable or when you pick at your cuticles when something is on your mind during a case. he doesn't know how he didn't notice that. really, you spent most of your time together, both at work and outside of work. hell, spencer knows your period cycle. he makes sure to fill his pantry with your favourites sweet and sour snacks for that time of the month. it truly makes no sense how be could be so oblivious.
he knocks twice on the bedroom door, apprehensive and extremely careful. he's afraid by your latest reaction that you don't want him around.
it's actually the opposite.
“come in.” you're finishing getting dressed for the night. one of his old Caltech shirts slipping through your frame as he walks in slowly. you raise a brow in his direction, eyeing his figure standing by the doorway.
“i made you some peppermint tea. it's good for, hm, nausea.”
letting out a sigh at his hesitation, you lift a hand, silently asking him to come closer. “i'm not mad at you.” you clarify, breathing into his neck as he gently pulls you into his arms. “i was frustrated and tired and sore and sleepy. 'm sorry I was rude.” then, you chuckle awkwardly. “and sorry I dropped that bomb on you without a notice.”
he squeezes you, running a hand through your back. “don't be sorry. I understand.”
“are you mad?”
he pulls back a little, stunned that you even asked that. “what? why would I be mad?”
you shrug, meddling with the collar of his work attire he still hasn't taken off. “we didn't plan it. it's not ideal.”
spencer shakes his head, lifting your chin slightly to meet his gaze. “i don't care. I'm here for whatever you decide to do. there's no such thing as ideal.”
your mouth quirks up in the corners and you brush a honey brown curl behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his jaw.
“what?” he nudges your nose with his.
“i love you.” his grin is contagious and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. you love him so much.
“and i love you.” you let out a shriek as he pulled you up in his arms, your feet being suspended from the ground. “hey,” he cups your cheeks lovingly. “we'll figure it out. together. alright?”
you nod, warmth flooding through your chest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “yeah, yeah, we will.” you mumble in the croak of your boyfriend's neck. “I love you.” you repeat just because you felt like it.
spencer mutters the same three words softly into the crown of your head. and you know everything will be alright.
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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj
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request for jealous remy 👀 maybe some guy is flirting with reader at a bar and how he would react? maybe pietro has been flirting with reader a little to serious for the cajuns liking? definitely maybe some nsfw reaction 👀
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The neon lights of the bar flickered in a hypnotic rhythm, casting a soft, colorful glow over the dimly lit room. It was a lively night—laughter, clinking glasses, and the steady beat of music filled the air, creating an atmosphere of easygoing revelry. I leaned against the counter, nursing my drink as I chatted with Pietro, who had been playfully flirting with me all evening.
Pietro was charming, in that quick-witted, cocky way of his. He’d been dropping compliments and teasing remarks, his silver hair catching the light every time he leaned in closer. Normally, I would’ve brushed off his flirtations as just his way of having fun, but tonight, something about it felt a bit…different. His words had a sharper edge, his gaze lingering a little too long.
I didn’t think much of it, though, until I felt a familiar presence at my side.
“Y’know, cher,” a deep, smooth voice drawled from behind me, dripping with a mix of Southern charm and something darker, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think Pietro here was tryin’ to steal somethin’ that don’t belong to him.”
I turned my head, heart skipping a beat as I met Remy LeBeau’s red-on-black gaze. He was leaning against the bar, casual as ever, but there was a tension in his stance, something simmering just beneath the surface. His smirk was there, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Pietro grinned, not missing a beat. “Hey, Remy. Just having a little fun, no harm done, right?” He flashed me a wink, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should.
But Remy didn’t seem to share the sentiment. He stepped closer, his presence commanding the space between us. “Fun’s fun, Pietro, but you might be pushin’ your luck tonight.”
The playful tone in his voice couldn’t quite hide the edge of possessiveness, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. This was different. This wasn’t just Remy being his usual laid-back self—this was him staking a claim, making it clear that I was his, whether anyone else liked it or not.
Pietro’s smile faltered slightly as he glanced between us, clearly sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial, LeBeau,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”
With one last mischievous grin in my direction, Pietro zipped off, leaving me alone with Remy, who was now standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest. “Remy, you didn’t have to—”
He cut me off, his hand reaching out to gently cup my chin, tilting my face up so I had no choice but to look into those burning red eyes. “Didn’t have to what, cher? Watch some speedster make eyes at my girl?”
His voice was low, dangerously smooth, and it sent a thrill through me. Remy was always so effortlessly charming, but this side of him—the side that was possessive, almost predatory—was something else entirely. It made my pulse race, a mix of anticipation and desire curling in my stomach.
“He was just being friendly,” I managed to say, though the words felt flimsy even to me.
Remy’s thumb brushed over my bottom lip, his gaze darkening. “Friendly, huh? That what you call it?” His voice dropped even lower, barely more than a whisper now. “Ain’t no one who gets to be ‘friendly’ with you like that. Not while I’m around.”
My breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “You’re mine, cher,” he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “Ain’t gonna let anyone forget that. Especially not you.”
Before I could respond, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a fierce, possessive kiss that left no room for argument. His hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine with a hunger that made my knees weak.
I melted into him, my hands clutching at his jacket as I kissed him back just as fiercely, the rest of the bar fading away until there was nothing but the two of us. His other hand gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I could feel the hard lines of his body pressing against mine, the heat between us building with every passing second.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together. His eyes bore into mine, his voice a rough whisper. “Ain’t no one who’s ever gonna make you feel the way I do, cher. Don’t forget that.”
I didn’t think I could forget it if I tried. The intensity in his gaze, the way his body felt against mine—it was all-consuming, a fire that threatened to burn me alive, but one I had no desire to escape from.
“Remy…” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I felt for him.
But before I could say anything more, he was kissing me again, slower this time, but no less intense. His hands roamed over my body, claiming every inch of me as his own, and I couldn’t help but gasp as his lips trailed down my neck, leaving a searing path in their wake.
He pulled back just enough to whisper in my ear, his voice thick with desire. “Let’s get outta here, cher. I got plans for you tonight, and none of ’em involve sharing you with anyone else.”
A shiver of anticipation ran through me at his words, and I nodded, unable to form any coherent response. Remy’s lips curved into a wicked smile as he took my hand, leading me out of the bar and into the night, where the promise of what was to come hung heavy in the air between us.
As we left, I couldn’t help but glance back, catching sight of Pietro at the far end of the bar. He raised his glass in a silent toast, a knowing smirk on his face. But the moment passed, and then it was just Remy and me, the cool night air wrapping around us as we walked away.
The second we were outside, Remy pulled me close again, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was all-consuming. He didn’t stop, not even as he led me toward his motorcycle, the kiss only breaking when we reached it. He climbed on first, then pulled me on behind him, my arms wrapping around his waist as the engine roared to life.
As we sped off into the night, the wind whipping through my hair, I couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. Remy’s possessiveness, his jealousy—it had only made me want him more, and the way he had reacted to Pietro’s flirting left no doubt in my mind about how much he wanted me.
And tonight, I was more than ready to show him just how much I wanted him too.
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pseudowho · 5 months
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Kingsman!AU: Galahad/Nanami Kento
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You become the latest Kingsman...and the man who sponsored you is so much more than the gentleman he presents himself as.
Warnings: Best if you've seen the Kingsman films! 18+, MDNI, soft!Dom Nanami, SecretAgent!AU
A little series of smutty drabbles...also planned, Higuruma, perhaps others, for now.
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It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the strangest job interview you had ever had.
Handcuffed, in an East London Police interview room, after assaulting five (...six? Seven?) police officers at an anti-government protest, you were scruffy but unharmed. The blood on your hands was not your own. There was a high flush on your cheeks, ripped clothes casting an indifferent, messy disdain to the situation you found yourself in.
There was a knock at the door, three brisk taps. You did not answer-- a pause. Three further raps at the door.
"...come in?" You asked. The door opened a crack. No further advancement.
"...may I?" A voice, velvet smooth and low, asking your permission.
"I...dont see why it would be my choice," you offered, stretching your hands against the cold metal of your handcuffs.
The door opened slowly, filled by a broad, tall man, blond and outstandingly handsome, with neither a hair nor thread out of place in his Savile Row suit. Over his arm rested a neatly folded overcoat, and a glossy-handled men's umbrella. His hat never graced his head indoors, and was, as such, clasped in his hand. He raised one fine eyebrow at you, his expression unreadable.
"It would be ill-mannered of me to consider it anyone's choice other than yours," he offered coolly, sitting opposite you, "considering you are the only occupant of the room." A moment of silence, again, as you regarded each other.
"Are you...my lawyer?" The man's nostrils flared slightly in suppressed mirth.
"Good heavens, no. No, I have come with a job opportunity." You blinked, certain you had heard wrong, while he continued, "I saw your performance, on my way to work, and I must say I was rather impressed. Seven officers, in under a minute. All incapacitated. Outstanding. And you're untrained, too. And, you did so well at University-- first class honours, correct?"
"Who the hell are you?" You spat, bristling under the man's casual knowledge of your life. The station's assistant looked awkwardly between the two of you as he dropped off two chipped police-issue teacups and saucers of anemic-looking tea. The blond man took the cup and saucer so gracefully, considering the enormity of his hands.
"Ah...quite right. I haven't introduced myself. Nanami Kento-- it's a pleasure to meet you."
You faltered again under his icy regard. Nanami took a sip of his tea. He paused, looking down at it with a hint of despair, before placing it down and delicately clearing his throat.
"...delicious," he lied.
"Are you...MI5?" A brief smile from Nanami, in response. He reached for something in his pocket.
"No," he responded, clipped, "we are not. But, we are in service to King and Country, and we are the sort of agency who punch up, instead of down. And...we find ourselves one member short."
Nanami slipped a thick, embossed coin over the desk to you; a circle, with a sideways "K". Nanami stood up, abruptly, inclining his head to you.
"All charges against you have been dropped. Your interview will commence, at..." Nanami looked at his watch, "...five o'clock this afternoon, should you wish to accept. If you press that coin for five seconds, my associate should send you the details."
You sat, stunned into silence, with the coin in your hands. Nanami Kento looked to you with twinkling eyes, at the door. You felt the twist of fate in your belly, and the pull as Nanami Kento walked it away with him.
"Good day to you. The pleasure was all mine."
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It had taken you over an hour to walk from Whitechapel to the Savile Row address. As bedraggled as you were, you passed through the bustling gentry and street performers of Covent Garden, skirting past the Savoy...before reaching the hushed, golden backlit glow of an exquisite Tailors shop. Letters were embossed upon the windowpane, glimmering gold on a backdrop of finery.
Kingsman.
A tinkling bell; an incongruous stranger, entering an unfamiliar domain. A familiar stranger, strong and smiling, upon the couch. Your breath hitched before you spoke.
"...you're here." Nanami folded his newspaper, standing up, before welcoming you to a changing room, that was not a changing room.
"You're late," he whispered against your ear, as the ground under London sank beneath your feet.
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"...that's mad." You stood in front of a glass window, somewhere far beneath Surrey, gazing in wonderment upon an aircraft hangar full of billions of pounds worth of mercenary equipment. Nanami chuckled beside you. You missed the almost fond sideways glance he passed you.
"I thought the same," he hummed, "when I was brought here, for the first time. I thought someone was playing some tremendous joke, for all the world but me." You were silent, dry-mouthed and swallowing.
"Tell me something..." you insisted, your palm pressed flat against the glass.
"...anything," Nanami reassured, soft and sincere.
"If I pass this-- this test," you whispered, turning to him, "will I get to work with you?"
Nanami smiled, leaning upon the handle of his umbrella, one leg crossed upon the tip of his toes behind the other.
"I'm counting on it."
Another man, tall and lithe, with inky black hair and a hooked nose, arrived with a clipboard. He offered you both a lopsided smile-- "Galahad-- good to see you, my friend"-- white sleeves rolled up against a tailored waistcoat--
-- a rich, Scottish brogue--
"...are you ready to begin?"
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Not only had you passed these months and months of bizarre, deadly tests...you had excelled.
Nanami had remained, always, at arms' length...a distant advisor. An odd, gentle promise. He could not offer any tangible advice, and you could see him itching to, at points.
It was down to the final two; you, and some Cambridge yuppy who could trace his family lineage back to the Battle of Hastings.
You stepped through the dormitories, late at night before the final test, your German Shepherd bounding ahead to sit diligently at the foot of your bed.
You felt a strong arm loop around your waist, and a hand over your mouth. A familiar cologne that made your stomach clench. You stood, pressed against his clipped, firm body, tucked into a camera's blindspot.
"Listen to me," he hissed in your ear, "Do you trust me?"
You nodded, not hesitating for a moment. Nanami's belly flipped to feel your hot little breaths around his hand.
"Good...shoot the fucking dog." You squeaked, trying to turn to him. He pinned you flush against the wall. His chest rumbled against your back.
"Trust me. Shoot the dog."
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You shot first, without a moment of hesitation. Your opponent returned to Cambridge. You became a Kingsman. Both dogs survived the trial.
The hamper that Galahad, your new partner, sent to your home, was nothing short of the finest luxury.
"To my Very Best Bet", read the lovingly annotated card. You brushed it against your lips, wishing it was his fingers instead.
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The wallet was a supple brown leather, smooth and warm. You knew it belonged to Galahad, from the faint smoky cologne that lingered upon its skin. Merlin gave you Galahad's address. You missed the knowing smile Merlin also gave you.
Your stomach flipped in your belly, all the way through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. You passed beneath trees hundreds of years older than the establishment for which you now worked, treading upon the footsteps of Kings and Queens.
The first fresh flakes of snow kissed upon your lips, by the time you turned to the towering white grandeur of Kensington, very much not where you were from. You were freezing, your little hands clenched in your pockets, but hot with anticipation.
Reaching a fine, tall townhouse, all Georgian architectural triumph, you pushed through the black metal gate, rising up white stone steps. You hesitated only briefly before tapping the door, heavy, and gilded forest green.
"--just a minute-- please excuse me--...oh. Hello."
Galahad stood at the door, as...relaxed as you had ever seen him. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned to his chest, and his waistcoat hung similarly open, with tie tails trailing down his chest. With his sleeves rolled up, and a pinstriped apron tied round his waist, you swore you almost saw him blush.
"...to what do I owe the pleasure?" He breathed out, finally. The apples of your cheeks, pink with the cold, dimpled under your smile. You reached out to Galahad, his wallet clasped in your hand.
"You forgot something," you offered. His hand reached out immediately, a goodness, thank you, you shouldn't have upon his lips, before your cold little fingers grasped under his own.
"You are miles from home," he rumbled, chastising, "and you are freezing cold." You tipped on your heels on the doorstep, placating him with a finger to your lips, and a glint in your eye. You moved to go down the steps, but your fingers remained clasped in his.
"Where are my manners? You should come in...of course."
"Galahad, don't feel oblig--"
"Kento, please," he ushered you inside, a hand ghosting over the small of your back, "if we're going to share dinner, we should not pretend to be strangers."
Kento's house bore all the opulent gloss of its noble history, with fine black and white checkered tile flooring, and twisting dark oak bannisters carrying the high staircase away from you. A receiving room beside you, bigger than your whole home, bloomed beneath the sultry flicker of a fire, the only source of light in the room. The kitchen lights spilled inwards, a herby bourginon aroma drawing you in.
You slipped your coat off your shoulders, and blushed, as Kento stood behind you to receive it. His heart pounded under the effort of containing his thrill to have you in his home. The thought of being alone with him, like this, had occupied your mind at night, for so many months.
"Sit, please," Kento insisted, heading to his drinks cabinet. Two slim, hazel eyes darted to you in question; "...can I tempt you?"
You settled on the sofa, antique, and likely much older than you; "Ah...wine?" Kento smiled, heading over to you with a bottle in his grasp, and two slim-necked glasses between his fingers.
You shared the bottle-- dinner was forgotten, cooking slowly on the back burner. You felt yourself becoming supple, warmed by the fire, the wine and the company. Within just a few hours, you and Kento laughed together, both liquor-dishevelled, hands brushing forearms on the back of the sofa. His calloused fingertips were electric against the inside of your wrist.
"You really were, you know," Kento hummed, placing down his unfinished glass of wine, "my best bet. The best gamble I...I ever made." You didn't know how you had ended up drawn so closely to him. Your legs tangled in his, head radiating from his thighs into yours. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you gently, insistently, closer to him.
"I don't normally do this," Kento bargained with himself, whispering against you, his tongue swiping out to dampen your plush lips, "it isn't very-- I really shouldn't, I-- dinner first, at least--" You couldn't help but drown under him, silent in the pools of his dilated pupils as he pressed you to lay back on the sofa, climbing over you, and trapping you beneath him.
"...can I tell you a secret?" Kento murmured against your neck, melting you under his lips and tongue. His hand moved down to undo the buttons of your silk blouse. You nodded, feeling him shiver as you did the same to his shirt.
"...I left my wallet behind on purpose," he rumbled, predatory. The tension snapped. His lips crashed to yours, with Kento groaning into your mouth, tongue trembling against yours. Ripping at the buttons of your blouse, his gentlemanly self-restraint was all but abandoned.
Stripping you, freeing your breasts with bitten-back growls and murmurs, Kento rolled you onto the Persian rug in front of the fire, crowding over you and taking one breast between his lips, licking your nipple into his mouth as his enormous hand pawed at the other.
"--beautiful...beautiful, you know that? Always thought...if you hadn't made it in...I'd have brought you home anyway..."
"Ken--Kento, I--" You broke off into breathy, high moans as Kento's hand slipped down, clutching at your pussy beneath your skirt. His hand scraped the lace edges of your stockings, his breaths frantic and panting with hurry.
"Say my name...again," he panted, strong fingers cupping your sex, moving to massage you, desperate need radiating through his hand. Kento pressed hard enough to massage your clit through the lips of your pussy, you mewled, squirming under him as he growled, "Again. Say my name."
"Kento," you squeaked. Your voice seemed to make Kento frantic, and he pulled off your skirt, your stockings, your underwear, until you were suddenly, blissfully bare beneath him. He knelt, still fully clothed in front of the firelight. His barrelled chest rose and fell, a high blush across his sharp cheekbones.
"This isn't...how a gentleman behaves," you gasped, one arm draped over your eyes. You heard Kento chuckle, cracking his knuckles above your prone, trembling curves. You heard the wolfish grin in his voice.
"Oh yes it fucking is."
One of his hands draped between your breasts, running down your chest and belly, to graze fingertips over your mound. His eyes flicked up to yours again, dark, hungry and questioning. You floated, somewhere both above and beneath him.
"Anything...anything you want," you keened, "whatever you want." Something tightened in Kento's jaw. His fingers trailed lower, grazing your plush lips again, dipping beneath to stroke up and down the slick length between your entrance and clit.
"...what a dangerous thing to say, to a man like me...I don't get treats like you often." Kento pressed two fingers slowly into your clenching heat, eyes rolling back with a fractured moan, gripping you to him by the hip. His cock strained against his trousers, and he moved lazily to unzip himself, shaking with self-restraint. He could not bear the way you twisted and squirmed, to feel his thick fingers fucking into you.
"...good girl...how does it feel? As good as your own? Did you touch yourself, like this, when you dreamt about me?" You could only nod in response, moaning and reaching down to clutch his wrist. His fingers curled upwards towards your soft sensitive spot, buried into you up to his knuckles, and swirling his fingertips over the spongy patch. You sobbed into his touch and he folded over you, shushing, pressing kisses to your temples.
"It's alright, darling...I felt it too...I'll show you. How I touched myself...thinking about you." Kento shuddered against your neck, his fingers still working magic into your belly. His cock flopped heavy into his hand, thick, long, and Kento felt so touch-starved as he closed his eyes, raising his thumb to stroke around your clit, imagining it was his weeping cockhead.
He shushed you again, chasing you up the rug as your pleasure built, heat surging through your thighs and belly. Kento couldn't help but fuck into his own fist, lubricated by his pre-cum, overheating with the need to sink himself inside you, and paint you white with his seed. He cracked his neck from side to side. Doubling down, his fingers picked up speed, pressing your clit until you writhed, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.
"That's it...that's it...let it happen," Kento whispered into your neck, still fucking into his fist against your belly as you climaxed, hands tangled in his mussed hair, burning under the weight of him. His fingers fucked you through the haze of pleasure, nose stroking into your hair, whispering his praises against your ears; "...so proud of you...such a good job...so proud of you, my little gamble..."
Your thighs threatened to flop to the sides, soft and lazy after your orgasm. Kento nestled himself between them, cockhead stroking between your folds, and you whimpered to feel your sensitive clit nudged. Folded over you, Kento met your eyes. A slightly guilty smile ghosted over his face, his voice shaking, seemingly coming back to himself. He resolved to restrain himself;
"I, uh...usually have better manners. This was unprofessional of me. Ungentlemanly, even. I...I insist we...leave this here, and do this properly. Now, we sh-- haaaaah, fuck-- shit-- you--"
Interrupting Kento, you had waited for his cockhead to stroke down to your entrance before fucking him inside you, rolling your hips up to trap his cock inside your walls. You wailed around the stretch, Kento's cock huge and pulsing inside you, and Kento lost his mind.
Grasping your hips with vicious strength, he cursed, rutting into you with abandon. You felt his fat, blunt cockhead jabbing against your cervix immediately, and Kento leaned into it, tilting your hips to fuck you deeper, overtaken by a primal need.
"...little minx...I offer you--ahhhh fuck-- dinner, and you...you offer me...your cunt...just like you, shit--"
You giggled, breathless against Kento's feral attentions, and the sound shot straight down Kento's spine. Your laughs caught in your throat when he held his hips flush to yours, barely pulling out, bullying into your pussy with no restraint.
You felt the steam of sweat beneath Kento's shirt, felt how badly he needed this, and revelled in the way he fell apart above you, his cock milked by your wet, velvet heat. Kento leaned back just enough to see where his cock disappeared into you.
The sight had him reeling, and he came with a bark, spitting and swearing against his total lack of self-control. You felt his cock twitch and bound inside you, spattering your walls with thick stripes of cum. Kento crumpled onto his elbows, face twisted in euphoric agony to see you bite your lip at him, rolling your hips to milk him of every last drop of cum.
Gasping for just a few moments, before rolling his shoulders with soft cracks again, Kento pulled out of you, flipping you over so your face pressed down into the rug. You squealed to feel your hands drawn behind your back, and the soft shhhhff shhhfff shhhhhffff of his tie being pulled free of his collar.
Face down, and arse up, Kento dipped his fingers into your cum-dripping, twitching hole.
"That's how a boy does it," Kento growled, beginning to thread his tie around your wrists, "now lets show you how a Kingsman does it."
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Getting to wax lyrically about my beloved London was a treat.
Up next: Higuruma Hiromi/Merlin
660 notes · View notes
cera-writes · 4 months
Note
How about Nightcrawler falling for Remy's honorary sibling?
Moonlight Sonata
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x gn!reader Tags: fluff, humor, flirting, baking, slight competition, developing feelings
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The scent of fresh pastries mingled in the air, a peculiar scent that had become strangely comforting to Kurt Wagner.
He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you knead dough with surprising finesse for someone who could lift a priceless artifact from a guarded vault without breaking a sweat. You hadn't even noticed him yet. You were in your own little world it seemed.
Gambit, ever the charmer, had introduced you to the X-Men as a "distant cousin" from New Orleans with a knack for "acquiring rare finds." Professor X, ever the pragmatist, saw the potential in your unique ability to manipulate probability, making you an invaluable asset for training the team. But over time, Kurt had discovered you were more than just a valuable asset.
You possessed a dry wit that rivaled Logan's, a fierce protectiveness that mirrored Ororo's, and a surprising talent for pastry. Your μπεκλαβές (mezeklaves), a flaky Greek cheese pie, had become a favorite amongst the X-Men, even the health-conscious ones (though they wouldn't admit it).
Tonight, however, the kitchen was empty except for you. Kurt, ever the teleporter with a conscience, decided to make his presence known with a gentle, "Guten Abend."
You whirled around, a dusting of flour on your cheek, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Kurt! Ya scared the bejeezus outta me." Your voice was laced with an accent similar to Gambit's, which Kurt found endearing.
Kurt chuckled, a low rumble that seemed to emanate from the shadows themselves. "Apologies, Meine Freund. I did not mean to startle you." He bamfed beside you, the brimstone scent that clung to him momentarily overwhelmed by the aroma of butter and sugar.
"No harm done," you said, patting some flour off your apron. "Just surprised to see you here. Thought you preferred the… darker corners."
"There is a certain charm to moonlight," Kurt admitted, "but the company is even more delightful."
Your smile faltered slightly, a flicker of surprise in your eyes. "Are you… complimentin' me, fuzzy elf?"
"Only stating a fact," Kurt replied, his own blue fur dusting a faint pink. "You bring a certain… warmth to the kitchen. A welcome change from the usual… chaos."
Your smile returned, wider this time. "Well, someone has to keep Remy in line," you said, a playful jab at your honorary brother. "Though between you and me, I'm the better cook. Jus' don't tell him that."
Their conversation flowed easily, filled with shared stories and laughter. As the night deepened, Kurt found himself lingering longer, captivated by the way your mischievous glint sort of mirrored Remy's in your eyes. When you finally stretched, a hint of weariness in your movements, Kurt surprised himself by blurting out, "Perhaps you would… care to join me for a walk… under the actual moonlight, I mean."
You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Just the moonlight, huh, Kurt? No shadows, no surprise teleports to some forgotten realm?"
Kurt felt a familiar warmth creep up his neck. "Only… pleasant company, my friend. I assure you."
You considered him for a moment, then a slow smile spread across your face. "Alright, Kurt. But if you try anythin', I won't hesitate to manipulate the odds and send you tumblin' into a vat of flour."
A teasing glint flickered in your eyes, and Kurt couldn't help but grin back. "A vat of flour, you say? Sounds like a messy proposition. Perhaps a stroll on the balcony would be a safer choice?" He gestured towards the large glass doors leading outside, moonlight already casting an ethereal glow on the patio furniture.
You dusted a stray bit of flour off your shoulder, your gaze lingering on him for a beat longer than necessary. "Maybe you're right, fuzzy elf. Sides, I wouldn't want to risk ruinin' these." You gestured towards a fragrant pan of pastries cooling on the counter. "Remy's been braggin' about my skills to Stormy all week. Gotta keep up appearances, right?"
Kurt chuckled, a warmth blooming in his chest. "Storm wouldn't dare challenge your culinary prowess, even with Remy vouching for her. But perhaps I could offer a different kind of challenge on our walk?"
You quirked an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your voice. "Oh yeah? And what kind of challenge might that be, Nightcrawler?"
Kurt leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "How about a test of your probability manipulation skills? We could see who can find the most… interesting object under the moonlight."
A slow smile spread across your face, the mischievous glint in your eyes mirroring his own. "Now that's a challenge I can get behind. Just don't come cryin' to me if you end up teleporting into the Danger Room by accident."
Kurt threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet kitchen. "Never underestimate Kurt Wagner, Schatz. Let's just say, I have a certain… affinity for finding unexpected things."
With a playful wink, you grabbed a clean dish towel and wiped your hands. "Alright then, furball. Lead the way. But be warned, I have a knack for finding trouble… and sometimes, trouble finds me."
Kurt offered you his arm, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "Then perhaps tonight, trouble will find something delightful instead."
Together, you stepped out onto the moonlit balcony, the promise of a playful competition and a blossoming connection hanging heavy in the cool night air.
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toruily1 · 4 hours
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gojo x camgirl!reader
MDNI
1.3k
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fuck he’s late. fuck fuck fuck.
in the past few months since gojo discovered your online cam shows, he’s never missed one. he’s always been there at least ten minutes before you went live to make sure he caught every second, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues sitting next to him on his bed as he waits for you to begin.
but here he was, scrambling through his flat, dropping his belongings randomly on the floor as he rushes towards his bedroom, pulling his laptop out and logging onto the website.
by the time he clicks on your live you're already completely naked, fingers playing with your nipples, pinching and twisting and tugging on the hard nubs as he feels his cock harden almost instantly, the sight of your beautiful body never failing to turn him on.
he drops his laptop on the bed, eyes never straying away from your form as he feels around his nightstand drawer searching for the bottle of lubricant he knows is in there.
he lets out a triumphant hum when he locates it, tossing it onto the bed as he begins stripping himself of his clothes. quickly pulling his shirt over his head, not wanting to miss even a second more than he already did, pushing his pants and boxers down in one go.
satoru crawls into bed just as you zoom the camera out a little, and moving to lean against the headboard as you giggle at something said in the chat.
"so.." you begin and satoru's attention is automatically pulled to your lips, plump and pink and shining with gloss, opening and closing as you talk. "which toy should i use tonight?" you question, taking the camera in your hand and showing off the couple of toys you had prepared for the night.
satoru takes in the items as he decides which one he should cast his vote for.
there's two differnt dildos, one pink and thick and he knows it would look so good stretching you out. the other one, this one clear, is on the longer side and fuck he wonders if you can take the whole thing?
next to them lies a small black butt plug with a pink gem on the end and he wonders what it would look like close up, shining up at him as he fucks into you from behind.
satoru wraps his hand around his cock, stroking languidly as he makes his decision, not even bothering to look at the other options.
he hits on the donation option and types in an amount, adding an extra zero at the end to make up for being late, pairing the money with his choice, the clear one since its the one that resembled his own cock the most and pressing send. It’s longer than it is thick but with a slight upwards curve that'll hit all the right places inside of your walls.
he hits send and watches as the corner of your lips tug up into a smile at the influx of donations as everyone watching comments which one they want to see the most.
"so you finally made it huh thechosenone127?" hearing his username fall from your lips has his cock twitching in his hand. "got sad when i didnt see you earlier, thought you forgot about me" you pout, bottom lip jutting out as you pick up the dildo he chose, and bringing it up to your lips.
he's quick to type out a response, hitting send without even reading it over for any mistakes.
thechosenone127: i coud never forgot about yuo
theres a couple of typos but that doesnt stop the point from getting across because your smiling again, wider this time as you take the tip of the dildo between your lips, tongue swiping over the silicone head.
"yeah?" you question teasingly, closing your lips around the tip and sucking on it. “you better not”
satoru imagines its him that your mouth is on, tongue swirling around his tip as he brings his hand up to rub his tip, smearing the pre that's beaded at his own tip and using it to make the glide easier. he groans loudly when you take the dildo further into your mouth, sucking on it messily as if you were sucking a real dick, drool dripping from the sides of your mouth as you gag at the intrusion at the back of your throat before pulling it out and letting the string of saliva drip down your chest.
your drag the dildo down your body, moving from your mouth down to your chest, circling it around on of your nipples before doing the same to the other. you continue to drag it down the length of your body until your settling it between your legs.
gojo swallows, adams apple bobbing up and down as he watches you slap the dildo against your cunt, moaning prettily when it hits your clit.
you do it a couple more times before your dragging it through your slit, instantly coating it in your arousal with how wet you are. he has to tightly grip the base of his cock to keep from cumming the second you begin feeding the dildo into your tight pussy, watching as your hole stretches around the dildo, knowing it probably stings seeing as you didn't open yourself up on screen like you usual would.
"fuckkkk" he hears you whine out "you're so big daddy, don't— dont know if i-I can take it all"
he speeds up his strokes, matching them up with your own movements as you begin fucking yourself with half of the dildo. gojo's eyes are glued to your cunt as you push it in further and further, babbling incoherently as you force yourself to take the last few inches.
he hears you say something about feeling it in your throat and how you've never been so full but he's so enthralled by the sight of your hole clenching around the dildo that it’s hard to focus on what you're saying.
he close, so close that he's practically leaking, barely even needing to use the lube that he took out, his precum more than enough for the slide to be nice and slick.
"-na fill me up right? get me—fuck! get me n-nice and full with your cum, right daddy?" you ask, blinking wearily at the camera and gojo watches the chat go crazy, donation after donation rolling through as horny men, desperate to get the chance to actually fuck you, beg you to meet up with them in real life so that they can 'show you what its like to be with a real man, instead of some toy'
gojo rolls his eyes but types out his own comment, praising you for taking him like a good girl and how he'll fill you up until your leaking his cum.
"fuck daddy, m' so close" you bring you hand down to rub messy figures on your swollen clit.
gojo cums instantly as he watches you squirt for the first time on camera, the gush of juices flowing from your pussy enough to force the dildo out, your hole clenching and unclenching rapidly as your hand continues rubbing your cunt and spraying your juices everywhere. he continues to stroke himself through his orgasm, making sure to get out every last drop as he paints his stomach and chest with his seed, not having enough time to grab a tissue to cum in before he was cumming.
"fuck" you breathe out as you finish cumming harder than you ever have before.
"everything's wet" you let out a chuckle as you wipe your hand on your sheets since you have to change them now anyway.
gojo watches with half lidded eyes as you finish out the last few minutes of your live, thanking everyone for watching and blowing a kiss to the camera before the live ends.
he already cant wait till next week so he can watch you do it all over again.
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i'm not sure how i did with this but at least i had fun writing it! I would really appreciate your feedback, so don’t hesitate to let me know what you think!
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hisui-dreamer · 7 months
Note
Hihi Rinna! Saw the cool event and I would like to request a bouquet ⁠\⁠(⁠・⁠◡⁠・⁠)⁠/ daffodils, rhododendrons and a few cherry blossoms, please send it to Lilia, Jamil and Jade!
everlasting mementos
Characters: Lilia, Jamil and Jade
Synopsis: you've left twisted wonderland, leaving behind a simple bouquet of flowers for him as a parting gift
Tags: heavy angst (disco wants suffering y'all), no happy endings, bad vibes all around, farewells
Word count: 976
Notes: hooboy this one was depressing ヘ⁠(⁠。⁠□⁠°⁠)⁠ヘ hope you enjoy the pain!!
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flowers of choice:
daffodils: please don't forget me
rhododendrons: red ones symbolise tremendous grief
cherry blossoms: scattering, fleeting moments
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Lilia casts a spell on your flowers to make them everlasting, keeping them by his bedside table his gaze is always drawn to it every time he walks into his room, and he’s reminded of all the memories you’ve shared together
he’s become used to saying farewells, having gone through the pain of losing his dearest friends and countless comrades in the war
he’s long learned that life will always move on, and whether or not you move along with it isn't a choice you get to choose
tries to act as normal, but everyone can tell he’s not energetic as usual
silver and malleus offer to spend more time with him so he won’t feel too lonely, and sebek even watches his mouth to not accidentally upset him
he’s incredibly grateful to everyone for being so considerate, but there’s no stopping the dull ache in his heart
every time he’s in the kitchen, he hears your panicking voice echoing in his ears, scolding him for another misdemeanour
or your squeals of surprise when he pops down from the ceiling to give you a kiss
you've really left a mark on this old fae...
Lilia tenderly caressed the flowers, tears welled in his eyes, tracing silent paths down his cheeks. He knew his time with you was limited, that you would always go back to your world and never return. He knew that nothing would last forever, but he just hoped he could have spent a little more time without you.
"How foolish am I...," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with sorrow. "To dare to hope for a different ending. One without goodbyes."
Amidst the flickering candlelight, he found himself enveloped in memories of your presence. "The world feels so much dimmer without you," he confessed, his words laden with longing and regret.
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Jamil wanted to throw out the flowers but he couldn't bear parting with the last thing you left behind for him
he ends up turning them into pressed flowers, making a tiny pendant with them so he can keep you close always
Jamil, like he's done most of his life, decides to bottle up his feelings and go about his day as usual
but everyone in scarabia can tell he's snappier and a lot more tense than usual
even kalim, who's been trying his best not to upset or trouble jamil
on late nights, when he's all alone with his thoughts, he pulls up your old voice recordings, unable to fight the urge to hear your voice
he replays them tirelessly until every sentence is etched into his memory
the comfort they once provided now only serves to amplify his frustration, a mere reminder of your absence
he had resigned himself to a life in the shadows, but then you came into his life and for the first time in forever he let himself hope for a brighter future but now...
he wants to be mad at you for giving him this false hope, but he can't even stand the thought of being mad at you, he's just mad that he let himself hope again
still, he doesn't regret a single second he spent with you
The sound of your voice from the recording dwindled into the hushed night, and with it, the floodgates of his emotions burst open, and he collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down his face.
"It's not enough," he whispered between sobs, clutching the device tightly in his trembling hands. "Just hearing your voice... it's not enough."
He yearned to see your smile, to feel your warmth beside him once again. "You gave me so much hope," he choked out, his voice breaking with emotion. "That maybe, just maybe, we could have been happy."
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Jade keeps the bouquet of flowers you gave him, propagating them so they'll always thrive by his side, making sure to care for them so he'll always have the last gift you give him
each time he tends to them, he talks to them as if they're you, telling them about his day, what shenanigans floyd has gotten into, how well his mushrooms have been growing...
he never leaves without wishing for your happiness, because that thought eases the ache in his heart slightly
on the outside, he acts unaffected and you really wouldn't be able to tell he's upset at all
but floyd and azul can tell, it's clear as day to them just how devastated he is
azul lets him have more free time, cutting his shifts shorter so he can go on hikes or take care of his terrariums, any activities to cheer him up
but even those activities fail to lighten his mood, because he's constantly reminded of his memories with you
him taking care of your wound after you'd tripped and injured your knee, you excited to show him the new mushroom dish you've been working on, the subtle stares and smiles the two of you exchanged at school...
there are traces of you littering every corner of his heart...
As Jade passed by a familiar hiking spot, the very place where countless moments were shared between the two of you, bittersweet memories flooded his mind. He sank to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath.
How was it possible that you were only in his life for a short period, yet your absence felt unbearable? How had you managed to leave such a profound impact on him, with every little thing now serving as a painful reminder of your absence?
"I just... wish to see you again..." he whispered to the empty trail, his voice choked with sorrow. "What can I do... to make this feeling go away?"
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if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!
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gffa · 9 months
Text
It has been about eight months since I came back to BATFAMILY fic and this will be my ninth set of recs, which means I'm at about 500 or so for this one fandom, which is kind of blowing my mind a little, but also tracks pretty well, given how amazing the fic in the fandom can be. There's just so much that's scratching the itch of softer Batfam content or really digging into the angsty possibilities or exploring the characters in ways the source material won't/can't or just finding a dozen different ways to hit my id straight on and make it such a fun, exciting experience to be swimming through all this amazing fic. And, in that vein, yeah I may have a Dick Grayson Is The Most Important Guy In The World Problem, but I also have Dick Grayson Is The Most Important Guy In The World Solutions which is basically a metric truckload of fic by incredible authors and trying to lure more people into crying about these characters with me because I AM CRYING A LOT ABOUT THEM because fandom has PROVIDED ME WITH THE TOOLS TO DRAG YOU IN AND I AM GOING TO USE THEM. And, okay, I've got some good Jason, Tim, Damian, Babs, Steph, and Bruce stuff in there, too. Fandom is great at helping me get some really great variety in, too! Basically ALL THE BATS ARE MY LOVES AND I WANT TO DRAG OTHERS IN WITH ME.
BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Robin is Looking for a Sidekick by Writer_loves_tropes, dick & bruce, 4k     Eight year old Dick Grayson is already a crime fighting Robin and he needs a sidekick. Batman seems like he would be a good choice. Robin and Batman has a nice ring to it. Bruce has thoughts about that. aka, How could Bruce resist adopting this tiny child? ✦ The Pancake Predicament by Lightsider, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k     On his second Father's Day at Wayne Manor, Dick decides to make pancakes. -or- The reason Dick's not allowed unsupervised kitchen use, which isn't fair. The pancakes were delicious, and he was 10! ✦ Counting Elephants by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick & alfred, 3k     When kidnappers break into the manor, Dick runs straight to Alfred. Alfred will do anything to protect his family. Or, Dick gets scared, and Alfred is a badass. ✦ World's Finest: Christmas Morning by WingFeathers, dick & bruce/clark & ma kent & alfred & cast, 9k     Twelve hours of a Christmas morning in Gotham: Bruce foregoes sleep and grapples with change, Clark navigates Christmas at Wayne Manor and his boyfriend's emotional distance, and Dick gets the best presents. Also: Ma and Pa Kent and Alfred are the greatest. ✦ There is a Monster at the End of This Book by Trekkele, dick & bruce & cast, vampires, 2.6k     There was something deeply wrong with Bruce Wayne. This wasn’t exactly news, of course. Opening any one of the local Gotham tabloids would give you plenty of evidence to back his claims up, but Tyler liked to think his profession gave him an edge, an added insight into the strangeness that was Gotham’s ‘beloved billionaire’. ✦ Safe by Jinmukang, dick & bruce, 2.5k     Or, a baby Robin wakes up very lost and very alone in the middle of Gotham. ✦ Stars, Hide Your Fires by FidotheFinch, dick & bruce, 10.8k     Dick Grayson doesn't want to leave the circus he's called home his entire life. When he overhears Pop Haly talking to a strange man about sending Dick away for 'training,' he decides he'll do whatever he can to stop it. Even if he has to make a deal with a demon. ✦ It's who I am by Tiredteengaer, dick & bruce & wally & artemis & conner & kaldur & m'gann & cast, 44k     how each member of the team found out Robin's real identity. ✦ Drowning, Headaches, and being beaten by Penguin by PandasandDucks1, dick & bruce & wally & artemis, 1.7k     He couldn’t breathe. ✦ The Eldest Wayne's by Remarcely, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 3k     ‘With all their talks about how to behave, Bruce had the upmost faith in Dick to talk to the other Gala-attenders with respect under his supervision. When Dick grew bored and wandered off, entirely unnoticed by a Bruce deep in conversation, he’d be lying if he pretended that faith didn’t waver’ Or Bruce and Dick throughout the years as they slowly learn how to be a family.
BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Rebalancing by SirenAlpha, dick & bruce & damian, 2.5k     Bruce was back from his trip through time. Dick expected to heal up from surgery, head back to Blüdhaven, and be Nightwing again. He did not expect Bruce to have a discussion on the nature of Batman, Nightwing, and if Robin really only needed one of them. ✦ Capitulate by Antiquity, dick & bruce, 5k     After Wally's death, Bruce tries to hold Dick together before he shakes himself apart. ✦ No Good Deed by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet, dick & bruce, 1.2k     While trying to stop a robber, Dick breaks two ribs. It's not a good time. ✦ Superficial Wounds by fleetfoot1, dick & bruce, ~1k     Bruce swore softly as he tilted Dick’s face to the side, his gaze flicking down the bruises covering his cheekbone. Dick swallowed, before opening his mouth. “I--” his voice cracked on the syllable. God, he was just so tired of arguing. ✦ fabric (frayed but holding) by Tevya, dick & bruce & cast, 5.1k     A few months after Dick returns to speaking terms with Bruce, he gets stuck in Gotham with the flu. ✦ aristocracy by brandywine421, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred, 2.4k     "I really wish it was for a different reason. I - need a favor." "There are no favors between us, Dick, you know that," Bruce said, moving around the desk to take the seat beside him. "Tell me." "God, it's so stupid, I - could handle it myself, but - I don't want to. I just want - I just want to forget it ever happened," Dick said. That didn't sound like Dick. "Tell me," he repeated. ✦ Memories Fade by Lady_of_Lorule, dick & bruce & cast, 2.2k     “Miss Gordon sent in her daily report and Master Tim called to inform you that he will be in San Francisco for a few days. Also, Master Dick is upstairs.” Bruce froze. “Dick is here?” “Yes, sir.” “I thought he was in Central City visiting Wally West.” Alfred raised an eyebrow, pale eyes piercing. “It seems that he is back, then. I believe he is waiting for you.” ✦ On-Call by motleyfam, dick & bruce & jason & oc & cast, 1.6k     Kiran Devabhaktuni, medical doctor and close family friend of the Waynes, agreed to join them for one more Thanksgiving at the Kent Farm. It's a good thing he did, too. ✦ a day before midnight by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader), dick & bruce, 2.1k     After you lose pieces of yourself, they don't always fit back the same. - Post-Ric Grayson.
BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ the more i look inside (the more you're real to me) by starsonthewalls, dick & bruce & john/mary & tim, 2.8k     Dick tensed defensively. “It’s not like I can do anything about that, Dad,” he grumbled, accepting the glass to clear his throat. “You know how B is about patrols.” “And who is ‘B’ supposed to be?” his mom asked. “One of your video game friends?” Dick froze- what did mom mean, who is B? ✦ You Won't Wake Up Alone by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, 5.2k     Dick's captured and drugged and probably about to die. The last thing he wants to do is die in front of his family, especially not his baby brothers, all he wants is to be with Bruce and feel safe again. ✦ Jason's Gift by Neoinean, dick & bruce & jason & tim & barbara & cast, 17.3k     As Dick’s birthday goes from mediocre to bad to worse, he finds himself so wrapped up in the chain of events that he fails to correctly piece together the clues. Will he discover the truth before its too late? ✦ they don't know me and you by konan_konan, dick & bruce & jason & tim & barbara & zatanna & cast, de-aged!dick, 4.5k     "The cold helps neutralize him," says Bruce, talking about Dick like he's a threat. "It'll keep him from hurting himself," says Barbara, talking about Dick like he's a child. They're both correct right now, and Jason hates it. ✦ If You Don't Know by TylerM, dick & bruce & jason, 10.2k     An exploration of Sick!Dick Grayson from little and big Jason's point of view. Because I honestly don't believe in there ever being too many of the same damn fic.
BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT THE OTHER BATS BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY: ✦ bury me softly by Nokomis, jason & steph, 4k     After a tunnel collapse, Stephanie and Jason bond while trapped together.
BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I'M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ ties bind none by eryndew, dick & damian & bruce, 2k     Bruce discovers a son. Repercussions and choices follow. ✦ restless heart by emavee, dick & damian, 2.3k     It’s ridiculous to act like this one weekend really means anything in the grand scheme of things, but he can’t help it. It isn’t fair. He only gets these few days, and now Grayson is up in space fighting aliens or whatever and Damian is alone on the couch watching Jeopardy by himself. Or: Dick goes off world and Damian misses him ✦ Need To Know Basis by WordsAblaze, dick & damian, 1.1k     day sixteen, where damian has zero tolerance for dick hiding injuries from him… ✦ a killer time by konan_konan, dick & damian & alfred & bruce, 4.1k     The vent cover clatters to the floor, and Dick flings the knife at Croc, trusting that he's going to be a more of a threat than his goons. Croc roars in pain, or maybe just rage, and Dick scrambles toward the vent, Damian already inside, and - And Killer Croc grabs him by the ankle, slams him into the wood. He feels something break, and he gasps, hardly able to catch his breath. Some sort of metallic clang echoes from behind, and he thinks if Damian comes out of the vent and gets us both killed… ✦ as love carries its strength, but not its labels by AlterHarpia, dick & damian, 2.7k     Bruce is on a trip beyond Earth’s Solar System for longer than he intended, making Dick and Damian fall into an old pattern. “I'm not Batman.” A mere reminder, perhaps, but when said to Damian it always sounds like an apology.
BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ a study by bernard dowd by cv_angels, tim/bernard & conner & cassie & bart, 4.8k     Bernard opens the laptop, spinning it to face Tim with a flourish. It’s a powerpoint with a truly hideous red background, and Tim feels a moment of relief that Bernard isn’t breaking up with him before he registers the words on the slide. REASONS WHY TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE IS A SUPERHERO, A STUDY BY BERNARD DOWD. ✦ princess carry by CreamofTomatoSoup, tim/bernard & duke & tam & damian, 3.1k     Tim almost gets shot during a public speech, which is a pretty average Tuesday. Being rescued by his civilian boyfriend, however, is not. ✦ beep beep!! by CreamofTomatoSoup, tim/bernard & bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & duke, 6.1k     Bernard learned to drive from his henchman uncle. The last place he expects to use this skill is at a dinner with his boyfriend's family. ✦ little menace by InkpotSprite, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred, de-aged!tim, 16.2k wip     "Did a two year old just outrun you?" Jason asked, wanting to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Bruce clenched his jaw. "I didn't want to hurt him." He growled. "Liar!" Tim piped up from under the desk. Jason was starting to like this version of his successor. ✦ It Wasn't Supposed to Be Like This: I wouldn't Change a Thing by Grayson1996, bruce & dick & steph, 4.1k     She smiled tightly at him and stiffly beckoned him forward. If Bruce had to guess they weren’t close in the future, or perhaps she just didn’t know him. Regardless he stepped forward, though he didn’t turn to look at the figure on the bed just yet. For a moment the two simply stared at one another before Stephanie rolled her eyes at him. “Here’s where you apologize for pushing me against the wall.” Bruce felt guilt stir at the words despite the fact that she was clearly joking. ✦ in the lungs by hellsreluctantheir, tim & steph & cast, 2.8k     It went bad the way things always went bad. All at once. Steph had taken out two thugs (and maybe picked up a sprained wrist though she wasn’t counting her chickens before they hatched) and Tim was almost finished up with his third, when she saw him get launched backwards, head hitting the railing at the side with a resounding clang. She saw him slump to the deck, saw him struggle weakly as the thug pulled him up by his cape and looked at him for a moment, before tossing him directly into the Gotham River.
BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ Troublemakers by Kannika, clark & lois & conner, ~1k     Introducing Conner and Lois is the worst mistake Clark has made in a long time. Because they're getting along. ✦ oh brother by corvidspectre, conner & lois & jon, 1.2k     “So what are you being for Halloween?” Kon had asked when he got to the Kent's place. “Superboy!” Jon smiled, making Lois chuckle under her breath. ✦ Gut Feeling by Ao3time, lois & conner, 18.7k wip     Lois Lane rescues a teenager who looks a lot like someone she knows...
BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ my threads are coming loose by dizarys, dick & talia & cast, ~1k     “Oh good, I see both you and Bruce are on the same page about unrealistic expectations for grieving,” muttered Dick. Talia sucked her teeth and turned back to the grave, long hair swinging. The sound was so much like Damian’s iconic tut that fresh tears welled in Dick’s eyes. ✦ Fatherhood; a Knife that Never Stops Cutting by minnow_doodle_doo, bruce & dick & alfred, no powers au, 2.1k     There always seemed to be a thread that tied all their histories, from Alfred to Bruce back to Dick. Repeated over and over. And now it seemed that Dick found that the thread had been longer than he first thought. ✦ Tap Out by withthekeyisking, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian, read the tags, 4.8k     Dick knows the importance of tapping out in training, so your partner doesn't accidentally hurt you. It becomes instinct, so heavily ingrained in him. He doesn't understand why his brothers don't do it, too. (Until they do, and it's too late.) ✦ A Death in the Family by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick & jason, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 12.4k     The Joker has killed Jason Todd. Bruce tells Dick immediately, and Dick returns to the manor. Bruce will do anything to keep his remaining son safe and close. Dick thinks it's the grief that's keeping him exhausted. ✦ Car Crashes and Hot Chocolate by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 2.3k     Dick almost dies trying to escape Bruce. Neither of them are happy about the outcome, and so they talk about it. This is a follow-up oneshot for A Death in the Family and is set before Into the Gilded Cage. This can technically be read alone, though it does have spoilers for A Death in the Family. ✦ Into the Gilded Cage by PrincessMariana , bruce & dick & tim, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 17.5k     Tim investigates if Dick Grayson is being held against his will by Bruce Wayne. He somehow ends up spending the summer with the two at Wayne Manor. It might be a prison for Dick, but the more Tim stays, the less he wants to leave. This follows A Death in the Family, but you don't need to read that to read this. It might be useful, though. ✦ The Third Robin's Flight by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick & tim, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 13.7k wip     Tim accepts his place as Bruce' third - and most loyal - son. When his mother dies and his father returns to Gotham, Tim once again must pick a side, but Bruce never lets go of his children easily. Meanwhile, Dick struggles with the ramifications of finding the Joker, and Bruce remembers why Batman needs a Robin. This follows Into the Gilded Cage. ✦ Family Crisis by librarylexicon, bruce & dick & tim & cass & steph & leslie & barbara & selina & amy & cast, read the tags, 78.1k wip     At the close of the gang war, Batman uncovers an attempted deception concerning the life of his former protégé Stephanie Brown, and suddenly nothing is as important as his family. While Dick seeks absolution, Tim struggles with grief, Cassandra searches for belonging and Steph rebuilds her sense of self, Bruce faces the return of ghosts from his own past and psyche. (War Games AU) ✦ New Again by dustorange, dick & bruce & thomas wayne jr., 10.1k wip     “I’m not a good man,” says Thomas. “No," Dick hesitates, then comes closer, "but you're not an old man either." (a.k.a. Earth 3's Thomas Wayne Jr. "helps" Batman and Robin get back to their world, only for Bruce alone to be sent back, leaving Dick stranded in Earth 3—with Thomas.) ✦ not anything, anymore by emavee, dick & bruce, 2k     Bruce kicked him out four months ago. Apparently these particular kidnappers didn't get the memo.
✦ dreamer by day by justbeyondstars, dick & bruce & jason & tim, 5.3k     In the next room over, Jason and Tim are laughing, and it startles Dick back into his body to remember he’s not alone. He feels impossibly empty, unmovable, untouchable. He almost forgets he's still on the phone until a voice says, “Is there anything I can do for you, Dick? Anything you need to make this easier?” Or: Dick is a lot of things to a lot of people. After getting some bad news, he has to grapple with the fact it might not always be enough. ✦ watching the world go dark by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 3.5k     It wasn’t that Dick was suicidal exactly, but if an opportunity came about where he would have to actively save himself from death, he might just let go. He might not be suicidal, but he's not self-preserving either, and it’s becoming a real problem. Luckily, Bruce is a worried parent with a few detective skills. ✦ hold me like water (or hold me like a knife) by dizarys, bruce & dick & tim, 2k     Dick's recovery after a amnesiac year as Ric Grayson is taking longer than expected. And has some difficult side effects.
BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED TO TAKE ALL THE SERIOUSNESS OUT OF THE ROOM AND STAY SOFT FOR AWHILE: ✦ And There Was Only One Bed: Family Edition by RandomReader13, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass, 1.7k     “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dick stood on his toes to peek over Jason’s shoulder into the hotel room and grimaced. “Uh, Bruce…” “There was a mix-up with the reservation,” Bruce grunted. ✦ so everyone's just a fucking scalie huh by destiny919, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass, 1.1k     "Birds are animals, Jay." "What the fuck? No. Aren't they basically reptiles?" Jason demands. "First of all, no, you're thinking of dinosaurs, which is what they actually are in the Flintstones. Second of all, reptiles are animals." "Bullshit." "Okay, I..." Tim pinches his nose. "Okay. I think I see the problem here." "Yes, Todd sustained a traumatic brain injury the other night and didn't see fit to inform anyone before we left on this inane trip." ✦ The Batmobile (and other Bat things) by JeanjacketCarf, bruce & dick & clark & justice league, 2k     “Batmobile?!” Barry looked incredulous. It was clear he was missing the point of the story. “He called it the Batmobile? Out loud? In front of you?” Clark shrugged. “Yeah, twice. I’m sure I heard it right.” “Batmobile, my god,” Barry said shaking his head. “I can’t believe it.” Or Apparently, the Bat-Man is not a cryptid, he's a guy who gives his stuff silly names ✦ Vampire Bats by Sohotthateveryonedied, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke & cast, 4.1k     Despite the many, many obstacles, having his kids turn into vampires isn’t as tragic as Bruce anticipated it would be. Whenever one of them is grounded, all Bruce has to do is hang a cross on their door and they’re sufficiently contained. And the energy boost has been incredibly helpful on patrols. ✦ Adventures in Batsitting by raven_of_hydecastle, bruce & dick & clark & lois & justice league, 10k wip     "What, you're telling me the great Batman couldn't stop a nine-year-old from sneaking out?" Green Lantern scoffed. "At least come up with a believable excuse." It was Batman's turn to scoff. "Like anyone else could do better. If you can keep Robin off the streets for a week, I'll buy you a Porsche." *** AKA The JLA stages an intervention with Batman to get Robin off the streets. it goes downhill from there.
BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT'LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ though the sun and sky may fade (all shall be remade) by queenofthestarrrs, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.8k     Dick Grayson asks a lot of questions. ✦ My Little Robin by tyrianzzz, jim & dick & bruce, 1.6k     After being Partners with the Bat for so long Gordon tries not to question his life choices. Until Robin comes along. ✦ I Wish My Father Had More Sons by shipNslash, bruce & dick & jason & alfred, 9.4k     Jason Todd and Dick Grayson, from strangers to brothers to enemies and back again.
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vamossainz55 · 1 year
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let's just drive (charles leclerc x reader)
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inspired by a request from an anon: would you like to write one for Charles where he can't drive his normal car (for whatever reason), so he asks the reader for help, but she's kind of nervous and thinks there will be some judging? a/n: i took the liberty of making her scared she'll crash, i hope that's okay. i just feel like it fit the prompt better (+ there's something that I don't like about this but idky- so my sincere apologies if you also feel it)
“Here you go,” Charles says, casually dropping the keys in your hand before giving your cheek a kiss. You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice the way all your blood has drained out of your face, or if he’s choosing to ignore it because he doesn’t mention it. Instead he circles around the car to go into the passenger seat.
He fumbles a bit with the door before closing it, having to awkwardly reach over with his left arm to pull the seat belt from the right. He struggles over the cast that’s wrapped around his arm, and for a second you feel sorry for him, but all of this goes away the moment he looks over at you expectantly. 
“Come on,” He says. You notice the smile he attempts to fight back, the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and looks away. So he did notice I look nervous, you think to yourself. Dickhead. 
Passenger princess. That is what all your friends had decided to call you once you had started dating your boyfriend. It had been an off-handed joke at first, one that was pegged because of your boyfriend’s career, but here you were almost two years into your relationship and the nickname had stuck.
Over the last two years you found yourself behind the wheel less and less, whilst finding more and more comfort in riding shotgun. It’s not that you hated driving, far from that, but he just loved it, offering to take you wherever you needed to go. 
That is exactly why the sight of his 488 Pista is making you feel sick, extremely sick. 
Regardless of your nerves, you somehow find yourself in the driver’s seat, pulling the seat forward to adjust for your own height. Somehow the car feels even scarier from the inside and you wonder whether calling an uber could be a choice.
“Did you really have to break your arm this week?” You ask as you turn the key. Of course you’re joking, well kind of. You just didn’t understand why you were the one who had to drive. The car roars as soon as the engine is on, and you try not to think how much power it actually has. You can feel your boyfriend’s eyes on you, amused by your whole ordeal. 
Your hands are clammy as you hold the steering wheel, looking into the wing mirror. You’re about to change gears, eyes shifting back to the rearview mirror. Reverse, I can do it, you think. There’s a small second of silence right when you’re about to step on the clutch and you can practically feel Charles’ eyes burning into you. 
The car reverses, only for a moment before it rocks back forward. You instantly wince, raising your shoulders to your face to wait for the impact that never comes. You hear a snicker from next to you and you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. 
“You cannot be staring at me like that!” You say, cheeks flushed red, looking at him. Charles only continues to look at you, a smile playing on his lips as he shakes his head. He reaches over to hold your arm, thumb slowly rubbing at your skin. The touch sends a shiver down your spine. 
“You’re acting like you don’t drive when I’m off racing.” Charles laughs in between his words, letting out a soft wheeze. 
“Yeah- I drive my car. Not a ferrari.” You murmur, trying your best to let the heat leave your cheeks.
“You’re not going to crash it you know?” 
“But what if I do?” Your question comes out high pitched and whiny, a stark contrast to how relaxed and laid back Charles seemed. He sucks a sharp breath between his teeth before letting it out with a shake of his head and a smile on his lips. 
“First off all- you won’t,” He says as he reaches to turn off the car before reaching for your hand. “And second of all, so what if you do?” Charles asks, snorting at the shocked expression you give him. 
“I’m sorry- are we forgetting how much your car costs?” You try to pull your hand away, wanting to prove your point about how stressed you actually are. He doesn’t let you though, only giving your clammy hand a squeeze.
“Actually, I don’t know how much it costs,” Charles says matter-of-factly. You can only groan, because of course Charles Leclerc does not know how much his Ferrari costs. 
“Over two hundred thousand euros Charles.” His brow raises slightly, showing slight surprise and you’re a bit relieved by it, hoping that it would be enough for the idea of you driving to stray away. It doesn’t seem to work in your favor though. 
“Wait- did you google how much my car costs before this?” 
“How could I not?” Charles is back to laughing again, shaking his head in amusement. =
“Amour, it is going to be okay,” Charles promises. “I trust you.” His words are enough to get your shoulders to relax a bit, and for you to take a deep breath. 
“But you love your car so much- what if anything happens?” You watch the way he brings your hand to his face, leaning down to pepper kisses into your knuckles. It helps in relaxing you, allowing you to let out a soft breath. 
“Come on now, I love my car, but- I love you more.” He smiles at you as he gently puts your hand back down, but you don’t give in, only continuing to look at him with your lips pulled down into a pout. “If you crash it- which I am not saying you will, I won’t be mad. I’m the one that asked you to drive it,” Your silence fills the car and he squeezes your hand again to catch your attention. “Hm?” 
“Are you sure?” You ask and Charles only laughs, rolling his eyes before pecking your lips. 
“I,” he says before giving you another kiss, “promise that,” and another, “I love you” and another, “more than my stupid car” he finishes, sealing the promise with one last kiss. He takes his time with this one, enjoying the way your lips had curved up into a small smile. Bingo.
“Now will you drive?” He claims victory when you nod in response, pulling away to lean back onto his seat. There’s a moment of silence as your fingers shadow to start the car, but another thought enters your mind. 
“Can I have one more kiss?” He knows you’re stalling, and at this point you’ll both be more than twenty minutes late, but he smiles anyways. 
“Of course,” He answers, coming closer again. Who’s to blame him though, he did love you most.  
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savingcrxws · 1 year
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EYES ON FIRE | just pretend
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[ next chap ]
synopsis. you and carmen start off on the wrong foot and richie stirs the pot.
word count. 3.5k
warnings. language, hardly proofread but i tried
authors note. lets goooo, this is based off of this headcanon that i would recommend reading before this chapter(kinda treat it as a prologue)--lets get to part one!
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"Richie, you dick."
If you had a dime for everytime Richard Jerimovich managed to inconvenience you, you could probably buy the Bean three times over.
But this, this really takes the cake. 
“Well if it isn’t our little college graduate here in good ol’ Orleans Street,” Richie cheers, throwing his hands in the air in fake surprise as a smirk rises slowly onto his face. You feel like if you were to glare at the man any harder, you might actually make his head explode.
“What brings you here, sweetheart?”
You take a minute to try to collect yourself before you absolutely blow up in Richie’s face. Carmen stands directly across from you, just behind the bar, dressed in a dirtied white tee stained in a sauce of some kind. He’s very obviously avoiding eye contact with you, leaning over the bar and seemingly very interested in the walls around you. 
“If I recall correctly, you asked me to come here, Richie,” you grit out, gripping the tote bag that hangs over your shoulder tighter. You press your lips together before a choice few words slide from between your teeth.
You see Carmen tense up at what you said, shoulders hunching up before dropping almost as quickly. The dirty blonde brings a hand up to his forehead in what you can only assume to be pure disbelief. 
You continue. “You called me literally like, two hours ago.”
“Really, me? You sure it wasn’t another Richie? Maybe a Rick?”
“Richie, please don’t piss me off right now. I swear to God–”
A loud slam interrupts the developing argument and nealyr sends you flying out of your skin.
Your eyes dart over to Carmen, whose hands are splayed flat across the span of the bar. His head is tilted down, curls falling to cover almost all of what you could see of his face. He takes a breath before turning his head to look at the older man behind him. 
His face is a bright red, angry flush sinking down past the collar of his shirt.
“Richie, you motherfucker,” he grits out, dragging a hand down his mouth before slamming his fist on the bar counter, rattling the plates and miscellaneous cups that littered across it. Richie tenses up behind him, catching on to the anger almost radiating off of him.
"Why the fuck would you invite her here?" Carmen yells, speaking of you like you weren't only a couple feet away from him. You frown, insulted at his disregard of you.
"Oh believe me, I hardly am jumping to be here myself, Berzatto." You spit.
Richie raises his hands in defense, taking a step back as Carmen bucks up towards him. “Hey, man, don’t shoot the messenger.” He casts a stray hand in your direction and Carmen’s eyes instinctively follow, making eye contact for the first time since you entered the restaurant.
The heat of his stare was strong, something that you could best describe as a blend of anxiety and anger. You notice that his eyes trail up and down your form, not in a "checking you out way" and more of a "I cant believe you're here right now" way.
“Bug usually never responds to my messages! Honestly, how was I supposed to know she would now,” Richie continues, still trying to maintain distance away from Carmen.
Carmen seems overwhelmed, split between jumping at Richie for his fake naivete or running a million miles away from you. He curls his hands into fist, and for a second, you think he's going to throw a punch. Quickly though, Carmen steps away from Richie and casts one more look towards you.
You wait for him to say something to your face, but he doesn't.
“I’m leaving,” Carmen mumbles under his breath, taking in another deep breath before abruptly turning and throwing open the kitchen door. The swinging door flies out and hits the wall, a sudden crack that you are sure would leave a dent later.  Almost immediately, you hear the sound of distant bustling and pans clattering around. 
A voice yells out in confusion. “What the hell, Jeff?”
You bring a hand to your forehead, feeling a headache incoming. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes and simply being around Carmen had given you more stress than you’ve had in the past week. Casting a glance up at Richie, you give him a final glare. The man simply shrugs his shoulders and gives a charismatic grin. “Well, that was pleasant wasn’t it, bug?” 
“Ayo, Richie, what the fuck is up with Jeff,” a voice questions as they walk in from the path of destruction that Carmen left in his behind. The owner of that voice is none other than Tina, and for some reason, seeing her alleviates at least some of the headache you feel pulsating across your skull. Tina casts a confused glance at Richie, who simply points over in your direction. Tina’s eyes follow and when she makes eye contact with you a familiar smile drapes across her lips. 
"Oh, well now I understand why Jeff's so pissed off."
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"Yeah, and then the asshole has the nerve to act all coy, like he didn't blow my phone up with messages begging me to go down to the restaurant," you complained, throwing your head back to take another gulp of the wine in your cup.
In front of you, Sugar swirled her own glass of sparkling grape juice, shaking her head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all.
Shortly after Tina had walked out, you had left the restaurant (not before flipping Richie the bird) and immediately went to text Sugar for a rant session. Being the absolute angel that she is, she agreed almost immediately, stating that she had some qualms she wanted to rave about as well. Two glasses of Merlot for you and some non-alcoholic beverages for Natalie later, you two were sitting on the two ends of Sugar's couch, the TV playing a rerun of Selling New York as background sound for your current conversation.
"Yeah, Richie is a jerk." You nod in appreciation for her understadning your annoyance.
"And don't even get me started on you-know-who's reaction? He barely even acknowledged my existence!" You throw your free hand in the air. "Speaking about me like I wasn't right there?"
You release an exasperated sigh. "The ego on that guy."
Natalie hums, taking a languid sip of her drink. "Well, that sounds like Carmy alright. A tiny little ball of asshole-ery at any given point of time." The blonde reaches a hand over and places it on your knee. "Sorry my brother is such a dick."
You give a small smile at Sugar, resting your own hand on top of hers. "No need, it's clear you took all the 'sane person' genes in the Berzatto bloodline." Your joke pulls a giggle out of Sugar, the slight truth of her statement not missing between the two of you.
"But enough about me," you place your glass down on her coffee table before continuing. "What's going on in your life Nat?"
You listen as she rants about the stress of preparing for a bringing baby into the home. She talks about how those Al-Anon meetings she regularly attends are going, and how her one coworker Bryson seems to have a vendetta against her.
After a moment, Natalie coughs slightly, eyes darting across the living room in thought before returning back to you. "And well, I hate to keep talking about Carmy but..."
The smile drops quickly off of your face as Sugar trails the last word. "But what, Suge?"
"Buttt, Carmen's trying to rebuild The Beef," Sugar peers down into the contents of her glass as she speaks, "he's rebranding it as The Bear, and I've been trying to help him and the crew get everything sorted before they start tearing the building down."
You press your lips together tight at the mention of the familiar name.
"Personally, Carm, I don't see much wrong with the restaurant now?"
"The place is held together by a roll of duct tape and a dream, bug, I don't think you have to look very hard to see some issues."
You glance up at him from your position on his chest, looking as he gazed up at the ceiling of your bedroom. While his gaze was physically directed at the old glow in the dark stars scattered across the ceiling, you could tell his head was in a total different world.
"So you want to start a new restaurant?" You question, watching as Carmen shakes his head as soon as the words leave your lips.
"Nah, I just want to make it better, ya know? For Mikey, and Sugar, and Ma."
Sugar, noticing you are distracted, stops her sentence and gives a little frown, watching as your gaze drifts off somewhere distant.
Despite the years that have past, she knows that you still have feelings towards her brother. She was there for most of it, watching as you and Carmen went from daily hangouts to a weekly phone call, to a monthly check-in text, to, well, nothing.
She consoled you through most of the grieving phase of a post-breakup, like you had done for her a couple of times before. And after a few weeks of busting into tears anytime his name was mentioned, you began to heal, and focused those strong emotions towards improving yourself.
Natalie let a wistful sigh, pulling you out of your thoughts. Shaking the fog away, you give a remorseful smile at having basically cut Sugar off midway through her spiel. She gives you another small smirk before shaking her head, dismissing your silent apology with a wave of her hand. She draws another sip of her sparkling juice.
"But Carmen has been driving me up the wall with all the shit he wants me to help juggle. If I schedule one more appointment I might pull my hair out."
"Oh no, please don't do that, honey," Pete calls out from the kitchen, very obviously having been listening in on your gossip time from the kitchen table. Sugar gives off slight grimace at Pete's abrupt callout at her obvious exaggeration, shrugging her shoulders and giving a placating call back towards her husband.
Reaching back towards the table, you grab the wine glass from earlier. "Do you have anyone to help you? You know I have some connects who can manage the money and strategy end?" You offer, more than willing to alleviate some of the stress from your friend's shoulders.
"Yeah, can I have that guy who assisted you when you managed La Raison?" Sugar teases. "I have no idea how you managed to help that business go from near bankrupt to one of the best sellers down Michigan Avenue."
"Carter? Yeah, no. That dude was an asshat. He was more useful kissing up to the store owners than actually doing his job," you shake your head at the mention of one of your old employers. Since graduating, you had taken into strategic and financial management for businesses across Chicago. La Raison had been one of your main businesses for a while, the owners soon becoming close friends of yours.
You loved what you did, though business management sounded like a right pain to most, you found joy in being able to rub your braincells together and actually make a difference. Plus, the pay wasn't too bad either.
Sugar chuckles. "Yeah, well, I wish I could just have you as a little angel on my shoulder, giving me all the answers to all of these problems that keep popping up."
Though she was joking, you can see the way her brows furrow simply thinking of all of the things that she has to do. You could only imagine the stress she is under right now. Balancing opening a new restaurant with her ever-present family dilemmas, and a baby on the way?
Natalie was beyond used to extensive stress, so you know she won't verbally express all of her worries. But the thought of Sugar carrying all of that on her shoulders draws a slight frown on your face.
Before you know it, the thoughts are falling from your brain and past your lips.
"What if I helped you manage the place."
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You honestly do not know why you offered to help manage this fuckery that is disguised as a restaurant.
Shortly after you had offered to help, it was as if Natalie had died, saw the light, and returned back to Earth. She squealed like a teenage girl and thanked you profusely. While she shaked you and explained all the things that needed to be done, you slowly began to realize the implications of your offer.
You, helping Natalie manage Carmen, your ex-boyfriend's, restaurant. A responsibility that would obviously take months.
And honestly, you were tempted to withdraw your offer despite the happy squeals of relief that Natalie was letting out. That was, until the tears of relief started pouring from her eyes.
Those pregnancy hormones really guilt tripped you.
Now, a week later, you're back at The Beef. Well, you suppose The Beef is gone officially now, the rusting sign pulled down from its former position hanging above the restaurant entrance.
"Why the hell did I sign up for this shit," you question out loud, watching as Manny and Angel pulling out a broken sign from inside the restaurant. Sighing, you reach into your bag and pull out a cigarette box, pulling one out before digging for your lighter in your back pocket.
"Mami, what are you doing here?" You turn around at the voice behind you, cigarette hanging loosely from your lips. Tina stands behind you, a smile stretched across her lips. "Seeing you two weeks in a row? Someone must be dying."
You smile, opening your arms for a hug that Tina reciprocates. "Oh you know, I'm here to save your asses from complete and utter failure." Tina gently pats your back as you pull apart, and it makes you regret not checking in on her and the rest of the crew more often.
"Missed you, T." You mutter, a small grin pulling up on one corner of your mouth.
"Missed you too, mami," Tina pats your arm before wrapping her hand around your elbow. "Now, I'm not trying to step on your toes but...you do know who your helping out right?"
You grimace at her implication, the reality hitting you once again. Behind those glass windows stands the man who took your heart and literally tossed it away like it was nothing. Took all of those years that you had spent together and wasted it away.
Broke up with you over fucking text.
And now, you're about to walk into his restaurant and help Sugar, and, consequently, help him fix this fuck up.
Talk about fate.
"Yeah, T," you start, letting her guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant, where you see Marcus and Fak carrying out some lockers. You wave towards the men, to which Fak responds with such enthusiasm that he drops some of the lockers on the ground, much to Marcus' chagrin.
You grimace before continuing. "Just helping my asshole ex because his sister is my bestie."
Sugar had texted you that Sydney, Carmen's former sous chef and business partner, had been more than happy to hire you as a strategic manager for the business. Although she didn't mention it, you knew that a certain dirty-blonde was not so excited at mention of you coming to help.
"He knows we need the help, no matter how fragile his tiny little ego is," Natalie had told you, a knowing smile on her face.
"Don't lose your head, boss." Tina teases, pushing you first through the doorway. As you finally enter the store, you take note of the pure chaos that is the restaurant.
Plywood and debris scattered across the flower, miscellaneous kitchen supplies and utilities lining the walls. Ebraheim and Sweeps were taking a sledgehammer to some random panels, while Richie was yelling something from the kitchen. As you take in the madness, Tina pats your elbow before heading back towards the kitchen.
"Welcome to The Bear!" Richie calls out as soon as he notices you. Spreading his arms out in what you assume is a hug, you only offer him a solid stare. Richie drops his arms and heads towards you despite your very clear disdain for him at the moment. "Glad you could join the team, bug."
"Richie, why the hell are you covered in black dust?"
"Inconsequential, sweetheart," you roll your eyes at his response before stepping over the debris in front of you.
"Where's Nat, Richard," you question walking behind the bar and towards the office in the back. Richie grumbles something under his breath before shouting out 'office.' Busting through the kitchen door, you note that the kitchen is just as messy as the front of the house. Stepping over black dust on the ground, you tread over to the office.
"Suge? You in there?" You call out, peering over the corner and into the office. The room is unoccupied, filled with nothing but discarded papers with miscellaneous phone numbers and sprawled writings.
You make note of what you know to be Nat's handwriting, eyes trailing over all of her notes for appointments and scheduling. Your eyes also rove over the chicken scratch that you also know to be Carmen's scribbles. Placing your bag down on the desk, you sit down in the rolling chair and decide to wait for Sugar to come in.
You grabbed a random pile of papers and attempted to digest some of the information being presented to you.
Bank statements, IRS requests, insurance, licenses, permits.
Judging by all the shit that needed to get cleared just for the restaurant to legally be open, your surprised that Mikey wasn't being physically chased down by the IRS and thrown into jail.
"Hey, Sugar, Syd and I are going to work on the chaos menu tonight so I'm going to leave the rest up to you, okay?"
Carmen slings around the corner, too focused on pulling his coat on his shoulders to notice who exactly was sitting in the office.
Instinctively, you freeze at his sudden appearance in the doorway, breath caught in your throat. At the lack of response, Carmen finally looks up and makes direct eye contact with you.
His blue eyes widen, clearly not expecting you to be the person in the chair. You rack your brain over the next move to make, the silence continuing as he just stands in the doorway and practically gawks at your existence.
Deciding that staring indefinitely at each other was probably one of the worst things you can currently think of, you clear your throat to break the silence. That seems to break Carmen out of whatever state of shock he seemed to be in; you watch as he awkwardly wrings his hands, like he was at a lost of what to do next.
You're half-expecting him to make a repeat of the last time you saw each other and storm away from you. However, Carmen just stands there, eyes darting from you to random objects in the office then you again on repeat.
Both of you are waiting for the other to say something. To yell, chastise, and start an argument.
Biting the bullet, you start. "Hey, Carmen."
He seems to be taken aback that you even uttered his name, eyes meeting yours once again. You almost forgot how blue his eyes are-so bright that they're almost clear.
He nods in acknowledgement before saying your name to greet you in return.
Awkward silence fills the room once again. While you know that Carmen is hardly a conversationalist, this has to be the most painful quiet you've ever experienced.
Be amicable, you think to yourself. He's your boss/business partner now.
You're doing this for Sugar.
"Umm..," you trail off, eyes scanning the office around you in attempts to find something else to talk about. "I tried to find Nat, but she might have gone A.W.O.L"
Carmen nods his head a couple of times, a soft hmm leaving his lips. You can tell that he wants to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue but sealed behind his lips.
"Yeah, ok-okay, yeah." He nods rapidly, crossing his arms across his chest, lowering his gaze down to your shoes.
"Yep."
God, someone shoot me now.
Carmen clears his throat. "I-I-uuhh, you know, Sugar really appreciates the help."
You nod, licking your lips out of habit. "Yeah, she's told me."
"Yeah?"
"Yep."
Just when you were about to figure out a way to turn invisible or sink into the floor, Sugar rounds the corner and lightly bumps into Carmen's back. She lets out a noise of surprise from her throat and Carmen jerks forward a little.
"Carmy, why the fuck are you standing in the fucking doorwa-" Sugar cuts herself off when she spots you over her brother's shoulder. She makes eye contact with you and you swear you see a little mischief in her eyes. She pushes past Carmen to step inside of the office, crossing her arms over chest to assess the room.
You, sitting in the office chair, papers still grasped tightly in your hands and your lips practically licked dry from your nerves.
Across, Carmen stands angled towards Sugar, almost trying to physically minimize the amount of eye contact you two share.
Natalie surmises that she just saved the both of you from a very awkward moment "Oh, shit. Didn't mean to interrupt."
"No-no, uh, you're good, Sugar," Carmen sputters out, face flushing a bright red. He brings a hand over his mouth to physically stop the word vomit that was about to fall out of it. "Umm, was just gonna tell you that Sydney and I are leaving to work on the new menu."
Sugar's eyes dart over to you again, sitting stiffly in the office chair. She raises her eyebrows in question but you subtly shake your head.
Let's not talk about it right now.
She nods in acknowledgement before turning to fully face Carmen.
"Okay Carmy, you're good to go. Me and Bug here are just gonna get some paperwork sorted." Carmen looks in your direction at the use of the familiar nickname before he hmms again.
He takes a step back and waves his hand in goodbye. "All right, bye Sugar," he's fully outside of the doorway now, but he pauses before leaving you and Sugar's line of sight completely.
He stands there for a beat, running whatever thought across his mind a couple times. Finally, like he settled on an answer, Carmen gulps and raises his head to look at you.
He nods his head and whispers out your name and a goodbye, followed by a swift exit out of the kitchen.
You're practically stuck in the chair, the past five minutes having been a complete whirlwind. The kitchen door whips against the wall in a crack, the squeaking echoing from your place in the office. Your gaze is still focused on where your ex-boyfriend had stood not even a couple of seconds ago.
"Well," Sugar starts, a knowing smile across her face. "That wasn't as violent as I thought it was going to be."
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