#he has to read boring texts with long a** words in it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

norrizzandpia · 6 days

Note

this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!

Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)

Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol

Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx

If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.

“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.

Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”

Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”

When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.

Unknown Number

Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…

Y/n

Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.

The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.

Unknown Number

WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?

Unknown Number

YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN

Unknown Number

If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit

Unknown Number

LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE

Unknown Number

Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder

Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.

Y/n

You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!

His response was immediate.

Unknown Number

Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?

Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.

Y/n

*Image Attached*

Y/n

I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.

The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.

Unknown Number

Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.

Unknown Number

You are very pretty tho

Y/n giggled,

Y/n

Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.

Unknown Number

Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.

Y/n

How do I know this for sure?

Unknown Number

Trust me?

Y/n

Okay, ig. What’s your name?

The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.

“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.

However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.

Unknown Number

Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?

Y/n

I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)

Y/n

Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny

🏎️

The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.

Bob!

Good morning :)

Bob!

Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?

Y/n

Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.

Bob!

GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n

Y/n

Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol

Y/n

I live in London! What about you?

Bob!

Monaco

Y/n

Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?

Bob!

NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho

Y/n

Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.

Bob!

😭

Y/n

No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces

Bob!

Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.

Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.

She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.

Y/n

Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.

Bob!

Ok! text me when you’re free?

Y/n

yesss

—

There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.

Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.

Bob!

Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!

Y/n

sry, i just got home.

Bob!

Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??

Y/n

yeah

Bob!

Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you

Y/n

that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?

Bob!

you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times

Y/n

thats love fr

Y/n

but yeah its been a long day

Bob!

oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?

Y/n

Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.

Bob!

Talk to me about it then <3

Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.

Y/n

it’s ok. Thank you tho bob

Bob!

Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?

Y/n

no one?

Bob!

you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.

Y/n

We barely know each other.

Bob!

Do i look like i care?

She laughs and types,

Y/n

Bob, I don’t even know what you look like

Bob!

We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything

Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.

Y/n

People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?

There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.

Bob!

I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.

There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.

Y/n

Thank you. That means a lot.

Bob!

Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.

Y/n

When were you experiencing it?

Bob!

A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.

Y/n

You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.

Bob!

There’s not much to tell, Y/n.

Y/n

You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?

Bob!

I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.

Y/n

VAGUE

Bob!

Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs

Her eyes twinkle,

Y/n

Haha yeah right brotha

Y/n

That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.

Bob!

Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.

Y/n

You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?

Bob!

If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha

She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.

“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.

She breathes, “Bob?”

There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.

“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”

He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”

“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”

Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.

Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.

“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.

Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”

She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”

He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”

The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.

Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.

🏎️

“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.

“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.

Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”

Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”

Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”

“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.

Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”

Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.

“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.

Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”

“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.

Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”

Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”

Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.

“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.

“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.

Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”

He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”

She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.

Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”

Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”

“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.

Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”

Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”

Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”

As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”

Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.

—

Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.

“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.

Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”

Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”

Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”

Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”

“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.

Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.

🏎️

There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.

Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.

“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?

But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.

Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.

A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.

Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.

This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.

Robert Dancing does not exist.

🏎️

Unknown

Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?

Y/n

Everything is fine.

Unknown

Can I call you now?

Y/n

I’m busy.

Unknown

It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?

Unknown

Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?

Y/n

Stop messaging me.

Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.

Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”

She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”

Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”

“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.

“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.

Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”

A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”

A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.

“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.

He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”

She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n, I-”

She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”

A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”

Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.

He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.

What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”

With that, she hangs up the phone.

—

Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.

No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.

“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.

A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”

Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.

“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.

Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”

Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.

Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.

—

It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.

The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.

From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.

Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.

She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.

Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”

The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”

Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”

He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.

Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.

Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.

With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.

🏎️

The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.

She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.

He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”

It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.

When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.

“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”

The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.

The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.

The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.

He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”

Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”

He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.

Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He lifts his head slowly, “What?”

At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”

A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.

He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.

“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.

She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”

Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”

“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.

Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”

She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”

He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”

Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.

At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”

He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”

Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”

He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.

Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”

Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”

🏎️

The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.

Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.

So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.

“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.

A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”

Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.

When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.

Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.

He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.

He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”

He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.

The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.

Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.

“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.

She doesn’t know who he is.

He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.

“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.

Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.

“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.

“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.

“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.

Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”

What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.

“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.

She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.

“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.

“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”

Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”

He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”

Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”

Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”

Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.

“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.

He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”

Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”

His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”

She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”

Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”

She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.

🏎️

Y/n

Can you stop blowing up my phone

Bob <3

Why????? I’m bored baby

Y/n

im at work girly

Bob <3

girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me

Y/n

I think you might be obsessed with me

Bob <3

i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?

Y/n

girl

She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.

“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.

She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”

“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.

Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”

Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”

Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”

Lando hums, “An hour?”

“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”

Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”

She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”

He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”

“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.

He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”

She’d never get tired of saying it.

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aerithmybbgmypookiemywife · 1 month

Text

Genshin SAGAU where GN! Reader reads a fanfic about them.

this is my first post bare with me pls, it isn't proof read pookie... i know this kind of idea has been done before but i just love it so...

Creator! Reader gets isekai'd into Tevyat. It didn't take long for you to be found by the Archons and be placed inside a heavily guarded palace in Liyue.

Creator! Reader who quickly gets bored of their palace, who wouldn't be bored when you're restriced to go outside or... Practically do anything!

Creator! Reader who soon notices a book on the ground, you picked it up and it was... A fanfic about the creator...? It was titled 'The creator and I's forbidden love: Star crossed lovers unable to love each other due to fate. Will we continue our love or will it all break apart?' Wow... That's a long ass title. It was a story about you, the creator, and a human. The human had no name, probably for immersion for whoever is reading it.

It sure was... Interesting to say the least... You were... Characterized as this brave, kind, and absolutely perfect character who fell in love with a Human... The Human was... Okay to say the least, the human's personality wasn't your type but whatever you let it slide since this was just a fanfic.

You were about to stop reading but you soon got to the spicy part... "WAIT WE DO IT IN A CAVE...?!" You gasped in disbelief, the smut was actually well written, and it inflated your ego that you were written as the Dom one in the relationship.

Creator! Reader who soon gets immersed into the book and loses track of time. You binged read that 1000 paged book, and you enjoyed it. It made you feel all giddy and curious to what other fanfics about you are out there.

Creator! Reader who brings it up on a meeting with the Archons. By Archons... It was Nahida, Venti, Zhongli, and Raiden Ei. Neuvillete wasn't exactly the Archon... The other two also were absent due to some conflicts.

"Oh right! I read this book titled... Hmm.. What was it again...? The creator and I's forbidden love: Star crossed lovers unable to love each other due to fate. Will we continue our love or will it all break apart?, have you guys read it before?" you asked, everyone except Nahida stiffened at the mention of the first words of the title.

"Is that the book Miko gave me...?" Raiden Ei mumbled. "Oh! Is that-" Nahida was cut off by Venti, "Your Grace..." he clears his throat, "I don't think that's a famous book so we are unaware of it... Do you like it?" he added. Everyone soon stared at you, anticipating an answer.

"Hmm... Well it's interesting... Maybe even correct in some parts." you replied. Correct in some parts...?? Where..?? Which one...?! What scene?! The smut?? The kiss?? How the author envisioned the creator being inlove?! WHICH ONE??

Those were the questions popping up in their heads, well... Except Nahida. "Your Grace, if you don't mind me asking... Which part is true?" Venti asked, Zhongli cut in before you could utter another word. "That question is out of line." He spoke out, even though he was... Also curious... he felt it was a rude question to you. You only laughed it off, not giving him a proper answer.

News spread like wild fire...! The creator likes that book...?! Oh expect it to be sold out and be treated as some sort of sacred religious text or something!

#sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #genshin x reader

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mountttmase · 2 months

Text

Like Magnets

Note - please read this if you haven’t already before reading 🩷 this fic won’t be for everyone so I just want to prepare you. Feedback would be lovely and I hope you enjoy this 🥰 I know it’s insanely long but I was trying something 😂

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 18.7k

Warnings - angst, fluff and smut

Two objects containing charge with the same direction of motion have a magnetic attraction force between them. Each magnet has a north and South Pole and opposite poles are attracted to each other.

You wondered if this was why you felt so drawn to Mason. He was the north to your south and as soon as you caught sight of him you’d felt taken in by him. Stuck together like magnets from early on as you wondered where have you been all my life from the first moment you spoke and always finding yourself drawn back to each other.

To say you’d never been on a dating app would be a lie, you just didn’t like admitting it to people. It made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable even though practically everyone did it but the years of your mum warning you about stranger danger made you want to keep it to yourself. Whenever she asked how you met the man you’d been on a date with you’d conjure up some lavish story of how your eyes met over a dimly lit coffee shop and you knew you had to speak to him. Rather than the truth of him sliding into your dm’s with some corny joke and the need for physical interaction and intimacy outweighed the logical part of your brain.

You weren’t looking for a relationship, content with how your life was right now but that didn’t mean you didn’t like talking to boys. There was a part of you sometimes that wanted to just flirt for a bit, to make someone feel good and have them make you feel good in return yet most conversations you’d had on the app lately had been dry and boring. You were desperate tonight though, quickly updating your profile and adding a few new pictures before you got to swiping.

Mason stood out to you straight away.

He had a mix of goofy and sweet pictures that let you know he didn’t take himself too seriously but he was attractive and seemed fun so you swiped right without a second thought before another screen flashed up instantly.

That fact he’d already liked you first made you smile and the itch to talk to him was stronger than it had been with anyone else so you quickly tapped send a message. Thinking you’d stand out and put a bit of the hard work in first but to your surprise he’d got there before you. A message flashing up as you were halfway through writing your own.

No boring hi, how are you? x or a crude comment about the shape of your body and you warmed to him straight away even if his lines could use some work.

His words made you blush and you could tell how cheeky he was through the screen. The fact he didn’t seem to be taking anything too seriously too made you feel even more comfortable and you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you got settled into your sofa.

You spoke for a couple of hours, flirting back and forth lightly before you decided to take the plunge and send him a big compliment. Letting him know he had really pretty eyes and this in turn seemed to give him a confidence boost to start complimenting you more. Telling you how pretty you looked and how he thought you might be trouble yet his words just excited you.

You spoke about what you wanted, both not looking for a relationship as such, just a little bit of fun for now and you felt like you’d hit the jackpot for fun with Mason. You didn’t stop laughing as you texted back and forth and you knew he was different from anyone else you’d spoken to.

You’d never clicked with someone so quickly like this before. Not wanting to shut the app down in case you missed a message but they were flying back and forth so quickly you didn’t have a chance to do anything else until you told him you were off to take a quick shower and the cheeky emojis he sent you made your cheeks flush.

You were as quick as you could be, jumping back on the app so you could let him know you were back in hope that he hadn’t gone to sleep yet but his next messages made your chest tighten with nerves.

You thought he could tell you were nervous, quickly pulling on your pj’s and getting into bed but your heart was pounding. You’d never called a boy this quickly before, usually giving it at least a week before you gave your number out let alone a phone call but the need to hear what he sounded like outweighed everything

In the end you sucked it up, adding him to your contacts before pressing the call button and it only rung once before he picked up.

‘Hello?’

It was like time stopped. His voice causing goosebumps to rise all over your skin as your breath caught in your throat and your mind went blank. God he sounds sexy you thought. Knowing you had to say something back but the sound of his voice was intimidating.

‘H-hi, Mason. it’s y/n’

‘Ah, hello trouble’ he laughed, making you breathless in an instant and you wondered how you’d be able to get through the call without exploding. ‘Wasn’t too sure I’d hear from you. Thought I’d scared you off’

‘Yeah I um- s-sorry im just a bit nervous’ you chuckled laying flat down on your bed and even though you were alone you felt like you had to be quiet. Like you were speaking to someone you shouldn’t be but the excitement thrilled you.

‘I can tell’ he laughed, but you knew he wasn’t making fun of you. ‘There’s no need to be though, you can trust me I promise’

‘I know’ you whispered, thinking you didn’t know him enough to trust him but something deep down made you feel like you could.

‘Good’ he laughed before diving into asking you a million questions about yourself. Your favourite food, favourite drink, favourite colour, favourite trip you’d ever been on and the more you talked the more you laughed until your cheeks ached.

‘It’s nice to hear your voice’ he whispered as he was waiting for your giggles to quieten down and his confession made your face burn.

‘You too’ you smiled, your skin flushing as the pair of you spoke and you had to stop yourself from curling into a ball and giggling in excitement.

You spoke for hours, letting him in on things you’d never told anyone and even though he was just a voice on the phone, it felt intimate and like he was right there next to you. Spilling all his secrets to you himself and you’d never felt closer to anyone.

You wondered if the dynamic would have changed too much, going from texting where you could half think about what you were saying to speaking directly and being too nervous to say anything remotely interesting but it felt the same and he was just as funny as his texts.

‘I can’t believe it’s 2am’ he laughed. ‘We’ve been on the phone for hours and I don’t wanna hang up’ he confessed and the sound of his laughter was like music to your ears.

‘Neither do I’

‘So same time tomorrow then yeah?’ He laughed, and even though you were tempted you knew you couldn’t.

‘I wish, I’m actually going out with my girlfriends tomorrow’ you told him but already you felt like ditching them for a night on the phone with him.

‘Anywhere exciting?’ He asked, unsure if you should tell him where you were going but you felt so free talking to him that the words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

‘That club in town. Luna I think it’s called?’

‘Oh I know the one’

‘Yeah I’m not usually one for going out to places like that so it’s my yearly trip’ you laughed, hearing him chuckle on the other end.

‘Well I won’t keep you up much longer. Thank you for calling, I know it was a bit forward. Truth is, I’ve never wanted to hear someone’s voice so badly before’ he told you lowly and you felt your whole body tingle. He was making you feel special and you were loving every second of it.

‘Well I hope it lives up to your expectations’

‘Oh and then some’ He laughed. ‘You’re proper sexy you know that?’

‘Oh stop it’ you laughed, face flushing as you tried to hide it in your pillow. His laugh ringing in your ears and all you could think about was wanting to see that pretty smile of his in person.

‘Nah nah, im serious. Proper sexy teachers voice’ he told you, knowing the effect he was having on you but he just kept going.

‘Mason I swear to god-‘

‘Ohh Is someone getting a little flustered?’ He laughed ‘You wait till I see you in person I’m gonna tease the life out of you’

‘You wanna see me in person?’ You questioned. The same nervousness that was present when you first called him earlier now back at the thought of seeing him.

‘Of course I do, I’d be mental not to’ he laughed, and you felt dumb for even questioning him at this point. ‘You’re gorgeous and funny like what’s not to like?’

‘Unless I’m a catfish’ you joked, trying to deflect slightly but he wasn’t having any of it. Practically feeling his smile trickle through the phone.

‘All the more reason to see you and put those rumours to bed then, so to speak’ he teased as you gasped quietly, catching onto the double meaning in his words.

You didn’t want to stop talking but soon enough the pair of you were yawning your heads off and you had to say goodbye. Going to bed with a massive smile on your face even if you did miss him as soon as the call ended.

The next morning you woke up to a cute good morning text from Mason. Reminding you that last night wasn’t a dream and Mason was real and gorgeous and as funny as ever. Spending all day texting and flirting until you thought you’d get in trouble for being on your phone too much at work but soon enough you were at dinner with your friends before your big night out.

You all caught up about what you’d been up to lately, making sure you left out the last 24 hours as you were unsure about what they would say but thankfully you were able to keep it under wraps until you were in the queue for the club.

‘Are you alright?’ Your best friend Rose asked, looking at you with a slight smile. ‘You’ve got the weirdest look on your face’

‘What do you mean?’ You laughed, stuffing your phone into your pocket before looking up at the three of them.

‘I don't know, like, nervous almost. You’ve got your little scary smirk on’ Rose laughed and you rolled your eyes at her words. For some reason whenever you were nervous or scared your instincts made you want to laugh so it was no wonder you couldn’t keep the smile off your face knowing Mason was so close by.

‘Look if I tell you, I need you to be cool about it yeah?’ You told the three of them. Pulling them all further into you a little bit so hopefully no one else could hear before swallowing down a gulp and spilling your guts. ‘I matched with a guy on that app and he’s just text me saying he’s here’

‘God y/n, I thought it was something serious then’ Kimmy laughed, as the others shook their heads with a smile.

‘No you don’t get it, we matched yesterday’ you confessed, watching their eyes go wide and you knew then you couldn’t tell them you’d already spoken to him on the phone.

‘Oh wait, is he some sort of weird stalker? Do you wanna go?’ Sam asked as they all looked to move but you were quick to stop them.

‘No no’ you laughed, grabbing her wrist. ‘He’s not a stalker, I don’t think he is at least anyway and I know I sound insane cause I’ve known him 24 hours but we really connected and I’m just a bit nervous to maybe see him’

‘Is he cute?’ Rose asked, eyebrows wiggling in your direction but you just bit your lip and nodded.

‘Well let’s get you inside as quick as we can, I’m making it my mission to get you some tonight’ she told you and you rolled your eyes at her playfully. Thankful they weren’t making too much of a big deal out of it.

You weren’t in the queue much longer, getting yourself in and over to the bar as quickly as you could so you could get some drinks down you but no matter what you drunk your nerves seemed to make the alcohol not work and you felt the same as usual.

You gave it an hour in the end, knowing it would be best to just see him and get it over with so you grabbed your phone and texted him, thinking he wouldn’t see it for a while but to your surprise he text you back straight away.

As soon as you sent the last text you tummy dropped. A sick and nervous feeling settling into your skin as you shakily got up from your table and made your way to the bar. The girls letting you know they were keeping their eye on you and to just wave at them if you didn’t feel safe.

Thankfully there was a seat right at the end of the bar, your legs not being able to hold you steady as the nerves fully kicked in. The drinks and shots you’d been downing for courage may as of well have just been water as you felt stone cold sober. Heart pounding in your ears as your breathing began to speed up so you kept your fingers tapping on the bar, your head facing forwards so you didn’t accidentally catch a glimpse of him and be tempted to run.

It felt like he was taking a lifetime, wondering if he’d walked in, saw you and turned around as he hadn’t liked what he’d seen but just as you were about to look over to your girls you felt a hand on your lower back and Mason's voice by your ear.

‘Y/n?’

In a flash your eyes were looking up and into his. Even in the dark lighting you wanted to drown in them and all you could think about was the fact his pictures didn’t do him justice.

He was quite possibly the prettiest man you’d ever seen in your life. The fluorescent lights of the club accented the freckles across his perfect nose and his lips looked plump and kissable. You knew you needed to speak but he’d left you speechless so you snapped yourself out of it so you could try and speak to him properly.

‘H-hi Mason’ you stuttered, finally getting to see his smile in person and you thought you might melt on the spot. The twinkle in his eye making your tummy flip and you weren’t sure if it were possible to be around him for too long as he was so overwhelming.

‘Hey, you alright?’

‘Yeah, you?’ You asked, watching his smile grow as he caught onto how nervous you were.

‘Better now’ he winked, his face getting closer to yours so he could hear you a bit better. ‘It’s kinda loud down here. I’m upstairs, do you wanna join me?’ He asked, his eyes flickering over your body before coming back up to look at your face.

‘I’ve never been upstairs before’ you told him, realising how stupid you must have sounded but upstairs was vip and almost impossible to get into. ‘guess I need to get used to that with you though huh?’ You teased and you watched his cheeks flush ever so slightly in what looked like embarrassment.

‘Well we can change that if you want. You can grab your friends too, I don’t want it to look like I’m kidnapping you’ he laughed but you wouldn’t have minded if he had at this point. The fact he was constantly trying to make you comfortable warmed your heart too so without a second thought you sent him a nod. His smile making your heart flutter as you felt your own lips mirror it.

‘I’ll just get them, one sec’ you told him, walking off to get them and you knew his eyes were on your legs and bum in the tight dress you had on.

You gathered the girls quickly, telling them you were all going upstairs and you could read the excitement on their faces. Quickly following you back over to him where they all shared a quick hello before he led the way out.

‘Take my hand, so we don’t get separated’ he told you, linking your fingers together as soon as you gingerly placed your hand in his before he sent a wink in your direction and pulled you with him to the vip area.

The bouncer let you all through immediately, rounding the corner to a large staircase where he pulled you in next to him.

‘Ladies first’ he smiled, gesturing for the others to go up before you and once you were finally at the top you watched the three of them make their way straight to the dance floor leaving you and Mason alone again.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ He smiled, pulling you along to the bar and you nodded at him furiously, knowing you needed something to pep you up a bit.

‘Yes please, I think the alcohol downstairs is broken. I don't feel any different’ you told him. Hearing his laugh tickle your ears as a sense of pride washed through you knowing you’d made him laugh.

Once you got to the bar, you felt his arm snake around your body, pulling you into his side and once he saw you were comfortable with his proximity he pulled you in front of him, sandwiching you in between his front and the bar and soon enough you felt his hands settle on your hips.

‘Is this okay?’ He asked, lips right by your ear as he spoke and you knew you were turning redder by the second. In the end you just nodded as he squeezed your waist. ‘What would you like to drink, love?’

You were barely able to get out your order, his scent intoxicating you as he relayed your order to the waiter before you went and grabbed a seat together. Close enough to his friends so that he could point them out but not close enough that they could hear what you were saying. Sitting close enough to each other so that your thighs touched before he planted his hand on your knee making your mouth go dry instantly.

It was a little awkward for the first ten minutes or so, both of you blushing and stumbling your way though the conversation but the more you spoke, the closer you became. His arm now around your shoulder and his hand on your thigh as you giggled about how scared you both were to see each other for the first time but now you felt like you did on the phone last night. It felt intimate and like you were the only two in the room. Faces creeping closer and closer together until you could feel his breath on your cheek but it was his friends eyeing the pair of you up across the room that made you not want to push things any further.

‘Mason? Why do you friends keep looking at us weird?’ You asked, his eyes flicking over to them so they’d look away before he was looking back at you.

‘Just ignore them’ he told you, rolling his eyes as if he were annoyed at them before turning you to him a little more so you couldn’t see them as well.

‘I’m gonna go to the loo quickly’ you told him. Standing up and shuffling passed him so you could make your way to the bathroom and you felt his eyes on you the whole time. Chancing a quick look back at him to find him already looking at you and you couldn’t help but giggle as you walked away. Thankfully your makeup was still intact and your hair still looked good so you felt alright enough to go back out but when you made it back to your seat Mason was nowhere to be found.

He wasn’t far though. Stood next to his friend as they spoke intensely so you creeped over and stood behind the wall nearby so you could listen in but not let them see you. Eager to know what they were talking about.

‘Mate, can you stop looking at her like that? You’re making her feel uncomfortable’ Mason told him, his voice serious and you heard a huff come from the other boy before he spoke.

‘I’m sorry mate, but you know you shouldn’t be-‘

‘No, we’re not doing this’ Mason interrupted. Shutting down whatever his friend was about to say. ‘Look I know what I’m doing, just back off’ he told him and you weren’t sure you wanted to listen anymore so you wandered back over to the bar but not even two minutes later you felt his hands on your waist from behind. Pulling you back into his body before he nestled his face into your neck. ‘Hey, I’ve been looking for you’

‘You found me’ you smiled, but he could tell your voice seemed a little off so he pulled back, spinning you around to face him before stepping closer to you so you were trapped between him and the bar again only this time you were facing him.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ One hand on your lower back as the other tilted your face up to look at him. Even though you had practically been sat in his lap for the better part of an hour this was the closest you’d been all night. He was smiling at you softly and you couldn’t help but rest your cheek in his palm as his soft eyes captured yours. ‘Y/n? What is it?’

‘Your friend doesn’t like me, does he?’ You asked and you watched his face fall before you carried on. ‘Why shouldn’t you be talking to me?’

‘It’s not you, babe. He’s just a bit protective’ he told you. The pet name making you want to smile so you pursed your lips. He knew what you were doing straight away so he quickly pinched your cheek to make you laugh before wrapping his other arm around your waist so he could pull you closer to his body and the only thing you could do was rest your hands on his chest. ‘I think it’s cause we only started talking yesterday and he thinks I’m being a bit reckless’

‘It is a bit nuts when you say it like that’

‘I know’ he laughed, lips falling on your forehead so he could press a quick kiss there and you felt every hair on your skin stand up. ‘It's weird like, I feel like I know you already. You don’t feel like a stranger to me’

‘I feel like that too’

‘Yeah?’ He asked, his nose bumping yours lightly and you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach up and kiss him. ‘Maybe we’re moving too quickly but I can’t get enough of you. Every second I’m with you I just want more’ he confessed as you reached up to cup his jaw lightly.

‘Mason?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Kiss me’ You whispered, taking the plunge to ask as you knew you were both dancing around the subject and all you wanted was to feel him against you.

You saw an unreadable emotion flash through his eyes. Nerves maybe? Or something else? You weren’t sure but it was gone as soon as it came. Watching his tongue poke out from between his lips so he could wet them slightly before he started to lean down.

You were no angel, you’d kissed a fair few strangers on nights out before but you this was different. A tingle running from the top of your head and all the way down your spine to your core as he brushed his lips against yours softly. Pulling back for just a beat before diving right back in to kiss you even harder.

The way he gripped your waist so tightly before wrapping his arms around you fully made you feel oddly safe. Like being this close to him was right where you were supposed to be and you couldn’t help but smile onto his lips. Butterflies swarming your body as the touch of him made you weak.

‘Damn’ he laughed, letting you tuck your face into his neck as you held each other for a few moments before you noticed Rose frantically waving at you from over Mason's shoulder.

‘I think the girls need me’ you laughed, watching Mason whip round to see what you were looking at before looking back at you with a cheeky smile.

‘I’ll wait for you here, yeah?’ He whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling back again. ‘I feel bad, I kinda stole you tonight’

‘You can steal me whenever you like’ you winked, kissing his neck lightly as you felt him shiver. ‘I think I should dance some of this alcohol off as well’

‘Don’t want you making any bad decisions huh?’ He teased, pinching your bum before realising you. ‘Take your time I’ll be here’

You joined the girls on the dance floor, the three of them surrounding you and asking you a million questions but you just blushed and stumbled your way through all of them.

‘Bestie, just go home with him. You know you want to’ Sam laughed as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment.

‘He’s been undressing you with his eyes all night and you clearly like him. Let the man have some, it’s just sex’ Rose added in and you knew she was right. The whole reason the pair of you spoke in the first place was for some fun, you just didn’t know it would be happening this quickly.

The girls left shortly after, making you turn your location on so they could keep an eye on you and you made your way back to Mason and his friends. The one who’d been speaking about you before sending you a soft smile but you knew there was something else behind it.

‘Where are you friends?’ Mason asked, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arm around you.

‘They left about five minutes ago’

‘Oh yeah?’ He laughed. ‘So I’ve finally got you all to myself huh?’ He murmured into your neck but you were ready to take the plunge now and get what you wanted.

‘How about you come home with me so you can really have me all to yourself’ you teased, watching his eyes light up before he buried his face in your neck.

‘Are you sure?’ he whispered just below your ear. Kissing your neck lightly and you knew there was no way you were leaving without him now.

‘I’m sure’ you shuddered, feeling his hands squeeze your waist before dropping a heavy kiss on your lips.

‘Grab your coat babe, you’ve pulled’ he teased. Grabbing his own things as you made your way back downstairs to get your stuff from the cloakroom. Meeting him back upstairs so he could take you out a secret way as you ordered an Uber back to yours.

You’d barely been inside five minutes and he was on you. Kissing you like he might never kiss you again as he slowly undressed you with wide eyes. Every touch of his fingertips felt like fire as he devoured you and you couldn’t seem to keep your hands off of each other.

You let him touch and kiss wherever he pleased and for just sex you were surprised at how intimate it was. His dark eyes drinking you in before staring longingly into yours as he made you see stars. Again feeling that pull to him just like always and you didn’t want to let him go ever again.

The next morning Mason was awake before you, laying on his back as he looked up at the ceiling and you could tell he was in his own little world so you just laid and waited for him to realise you were awake.

Soon enough he was looking over to you. A soft smile on his face as you locked eyes and your heart thumped in your chest. It had been a while since you’d woken up next to a boy and you weren’t sure what you were doing but soon enough he was reaching for you. Tucking you under his arm and into his chest so he could press a kiss to your forehead but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking something was off.

‘Is everything okay, Mason?’

‘Yeah, of course’ he told you softly. Pulling back to look at you and the expression on his face made you melt. ‘I’m waking up next to a beautiful woman, what could be better?’ he joked and you nuzzled into his chest a bit more as you smiled. ‘You got plans today’

‘Nah, just having a tidy up I think. You?’

‘I’ve got some stuff to sort this afternoon, but maybe I could buy you breakfast first?’ He offered and you nodded furiously into his chest at the thought of spending more time with him.

So he ordered the pair of you some food and you ate it in bed in just your underwear as you spoke about all that had happened in the last few days. Still not really believing he was in front of you and in your bed but soon after you’d eaten he was ready to make you believe again. Whimpering his name into the air as he buried his face between your thighs.

You didn't see him after that night until a few weeks later. During that time his messages became few and far between but you figured he may not have been a texting person so you let it slide as you were still learning about each other and how this whole thing would work. You’d both said it was only a bit of fun but unfortunately for you, you’d become a little too attached too quickly.

You were beginning to loose hope a little bit when you hadn’t heard from him for two days but all of a sudden he sent you an offer you couldn’t refuse.

You still remember the look on his face when you caught eyes in the restaurant. His whole expression lighting up as a look of relief washed over him and you melted into his arms as he held you. Pressing a kiss to your temple before you sat down across from him.

It felt like picking up just where you left off, him holding your hand over the table as he hung off your every word. Smiling shyly at you as his eyes raked over your figure and even in public your need for him grew.

It was almost like he could see it in your eyes so after the bill was paid, you asked if he fancied coming back to yours for a nightcap and you were glad that he accepted straight away. Barely letting you shut the front door before he pulled you for a heated kiss that made your knees weak and it only hit you then how much you missed him these past few weeks.

You’d said it yourselves, you were only looking for a little bit of fun but you craved him like you’d never done anyone else. You wanted to drown in those big brown eyes every second he looked at you and with every kiss over your naked skin your need for him multiplied.

He knew exactly how to take care of you, knowing your body like a book he’d read a thousand times before and he cherished every page like it was the first time he’d seen it. Reacting to every noise you made with his sole focus on making you feel as good as humanly possible. But it was a two way street and as much as he overwhelmed and consumed you, you knew you were making him feel just as good.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve missed you’ you told him quietly, your mouth running away with you as you came down from your highs but the small giggle you heard from next to you made you smile. Mason's fingers threading through yours gently as you looked at him and his smile made your heart race.

‘We’ll don’t take this the wrong way either, but I missed you too’

‘Could have fooled me’ you chuckled, watching his face fall slightly before he pulled you onto his chest so he could hold your jaw and look at you properly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that’ you told him, shaking your head at yourself as you felt like you’d ruined things with your silly backhanded comment but he still had a small smile playing on his lips and you knew he hadn't taken too much offence to it.

‘I know I’m not the best at texting but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you’ he told you softly. Kissing your temple before looking back at you again. ‘I can show you again if you like’ he laughed, hand trailing down your neck to your chest and when you felt his thumb run over your nipple you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

‘Nah you’re alright’ you laughed, watching his face fall slightly before he smiled, realising you were only joking as he shook his head at you like he wasn’t best pleased with your joke and you knew he was about to bite back.

‘Oh shut up’

‘Make me’ you whispered, watching his eyes turn dark instantly before he dipped his head. Claiming your lips with his own and swallowing the moan that erupted from your throat as he trailed his hand back up to your neck and gave it a gentle squeeze.

So you let him show you again.

And a couple of weeks after that you let him show you once more. Him sticking around for a day extra that time and even though he was giving you no reason to worry, there was something in the back of your mind that concerned you. He came into your life so suddenly each time and was gone again in a flash so you told yourself next time he popped up you were going to have a proper conversation with him and say your piece. Thankfully he was right on time, texting you again a few days later and your tummy erupted in butterflies as his name flashed up on your phone.

He was over in the next 15 minutes, joining you under the blanket before diving into your m&m’s and it felt like you’d never been apart. Blushing as he pressed a loving kiss to your forehead but the look on your face must have prompted him to speak as a shy look took over his face.

‘I need to be honest with it about something’ he gulped, fingers trailing over his face like he did when he was nervous. ‘I know you’re not looking for a relationship or whatever but I still need to tell you’

‘What is it?’ You questioned, not liking the way he mentioned about you not wanting a relationship as the dread sunk into you.

‘I know you can tell something is a little off with me, coming and going like anything and it’s not fair to keep you in the dark. I… I have a girlfriend’ he gulped, eyes shooting to the floor. ‘Well not right now I don’t but… it’s complicated’

His words hit you like a slap to the face. A girlfriend? But how? None of it made sense but the icky feeling of being the other woman soon took over as you pulled away from him.

‘Are you cheating on her… with me?’

‘No no wait, it’s not like that at all’ he told you, turning to face you so he could explain a little better. Reaching for your hands and against your better judgement you let him hold them. ‘We’re not together right now, yeah? Haven’t been for a little while, I promise. I’d never do that to you, or anyone. I’m not a cheater, I just…’

‘What?’

‘It’s complicated and I know it’s not healthy but we’re on and off again like you wouldn’t believe. It’s the same pattern all the time, she breaks up with me over nothing and ignores me for a few days. I worry myself sick cause I don’t know what she’s doing or who she’s with and when she’s finally over her strop I go crawling back with my tail between my legs’

‘Well that doesn’t sound fun at all’ you pouted, a little bit of sympathy seeping its way in but you were still confused and a little hurt by the fact he’d kept this from you.

‘Its not. And I know I should just end it once and for all but… I don’t know, it’s like I can’t. I love her’

You couldn’t deny it stung a little to hear him say he loved another girl after you’d slept with him multiple times but you understood. You both said you were just looking for a bit of fun so the fact he’s got some weird relationship on the side shouldn’t have bothered you too much but it really did. He’d kept it from you from the start and you had so many unanswered questions swirling around in your brain.

‘I know none of this is fair on you and now I’ve dragged you into this weird thing so I’m sorry’

‘Do you ever think of me, when you’re with her?’ You asked, your mouth tumbling out questions before you really knew what you wanted to say but the sad look on his face was making your heart break.

‘Sometimes’ he admitted quietly and you didn’t know what to think. ‘A lot, actually. Things are different with you, you feel like a warm blanket when she’s left me out in the cold. I just got sick and tired of worrying and waiting for her to decide to come back that’s all’

‘Why do you keep going back?’

‘I’m not even sure at this point’ he laughed, resting his head on the back of the sofa and you followed suit so you could lean back next to him. Both looking at each other as he began to open up to you. ‘We’re childhood sweethearts. She's my first everything like she’s all I’ve ever known and we’ve fallen into the most ridiculous pattern but I can’t make it stop. Trust me I’ve tried. It’s exhausting I swear but you do weird things when you love someone’

‘Is she good to you, when you’re together?’ You questioned, trying to get to the bottom of why he kept going back to her but as soon as you asked you realised you didn’t want to know.

‘She’s perfect at first, but it never lasts that long. It’s like I’m addicted to that high of when we get back together that I just roll with the punches now’ he confessed and your heart broke for him. ‘I just wanted to be honest with you. I know I haven’t been and I’m sorry’

‘Well I appreciate you telling me’ you sighed . Thinking this was it and he was letting you down gently but when you felt his hand on your cheek you looked up at him with wide eyes.

‘I know it’s selfish, and I know I shouldn’t but I want to keep you in my life still. If you’re okay with that?’

‘Oh I’m… Mase I’m not sure-‘

‘Please, I can’t not have you around. I feel like you’re meant to be in my life, like I feel different around you. I feel myself, you know?‘

You felt it too. You felt yourself around him and you wanted to be selfish and keep him in your life so against your better judgement you felt yourself nodding in agreement.

‘We can just take it day by day and see how we feel’ you nodded. Knowing you were setting yourself up for a fall but something inside of you didn’t want to let him go.

‘Yeah okay, like it’s still early days, but I’d really like for us to be friends at least’ he smiled. The word friends breaking your heart a tiny bit as they fell from his lips but you soldiered on. Smiling and nodding like you were fine with all of it.

‘Can I ask you something else?’ You whispered. Things clicking into place the more you thought about them and since he seemed to be being honest with you so you felt like you could ask him more.

‘Anything’

‘Your friend that first night? When he said we shouldn’t be talking it wasn’t because we were rushing things was it? It was because of her’

‘No that’s not completely true’ he told you. Picking your hand up so he could play with your fingers while he spoke. ‘She was part of it yeah but he really did think it was nuts we only matched the day before’

‘Have you done this before? Seen other girls in between’

‘Never, I swear. You’re the second person I’ve ever slept with in my life.’ he told you, looking straight into your eyes and this time you believed him. ‘Wait one sec’ he told you. Reaching for his phone so he could pull up his emails before pulling you into his chest so you could see ‘See? This is my registration email for that app’ he explained, pointing to the time and date and you saw it was the day you first spoke around about an hour before you matched. ‘You’re the only girl I spoke to on there too’ he laughed. Opening the app up so you could check his inbox and to your surprise you were the only profile there. ‘Do you believe me?’

‘I believe you’ you sighed. Looking up into his eyes as his flickered all over your face before landing on your lips. You felt awful but you ached for him. Wanting to look past everything he’d just said and throw yourself at him so you could feel him like you’d wanted to for days. And to your surprise he seemed to be thinking exactly the same.

You knew you shouldn’t, but when he lent forward to kiss you, you let him. Sighing into his mouth as he kissed you softly before you pulled back. Foreheads touching as you looked down into your lap.

‘We can’t’

‘I know’ he sighed, bringing you into his chest so he could just hold you ‘I don’t wanna stop’ he told you earnestly. ‘But I get it. If you’re not comfortable sleeping together anymore that’s fine but I can’t not be around you’

‘Mase, I don’t know’ you gulped, suddenly thinking everything through. Not sure if you were able to be around him now when you knew what you wanted from him but his puppy dog eyes were making it hard to resist him.

‘I just need a friend, please’ he told you and you could feel yourself getting wrapped around his finger. You didn't want to be his shoulder to cry on but in this moment that’s all you could ever be.

‘Oh Mase’ you pouted. Threading your fingers through his before he rested his head on your shoulder. ‘I guess we can be friends. But no more sex yeah? Even when you are on a break’

‘Okay’ he nodded sadly, knowing it was the right choice but also knowing he still wanted you.

Your little routine continued, him doing the disappearing acting before showing up unannounced and you still remember the first time he tried to act coy about it but as the pair of you sunk down into your sofa you knew you had to address the elephant in the room.

‘Mason it’s fine, I know the drill. You can just tell me if you were with her last week’ you mumbled and you felt him sigh next to you before placing his head on your shoulder.

‘I was with her’ he told you quietly. His words slicing through you but you acted like it had no effect on you. You were friends and you promised you’d be there for him no matter what.

‘And?’

‘Rinse and repeat. She’s thrown me out again’

You didn’t respond. Not really knowing what to say as on one hand you were happy you had him back but you knew it wouldn't last long.

You weren't sure if it was helping, now you knew where he was spending the time he had away from you. Learning that Mason and his girlfriend, Robin, did in fact live together but Mason had a flat of his own he’d stay in whenever he needed to. You both agreed on never going there though just in case she turned up unannounced and each time he wanted to see you, he’d show up at your door.

Now you weren’t sleeping together and were just friends, you took a different route on how you spent your time together. Making him hot chocolate and feeding him biscuits as you let him vent. Telling you what crazy reason she had that time to kick him out from not putting the kettle back in its base properly to staying behind at training a little longer and forgetting to text her about it.

He never seemed bothered when he first got to you though. Always excited to see you and wrap you up in his arms and every time his chocolate eyes looked into yours you felt your resolve cracking a little more. You were friends and that’s what you had agreed on but you couldn’t deny there was still that same level of attraction and pull to one another.

You always wanted to touch him and kiss him. Always were thinking about him and wanting him with you as you did the most mundane tasks and as time went on you seemed to be spending more time together as his and Robin's disagreements became more frequent.

You knew it was probably the last thing you should be doing but you missed him and wanted to grill him about what had happened this time so whilst he was on the way over you quickly freshened up just in time for him to ring your buzzer.

‘Hello trouble’ he beamed, taking you into his arms so he could hold you tightly and you couldn't stop yourself from squeezing him back. You’d missed him more than you thought and the kiss he pressed to your cheek made you shiver. ‘Missed you’

‘Missed you too’ you told him quietly and you really had. He’d cancelled on you the week before after he promised he was on his way. Leaving you to drink two cups of hot chocolate yourself but he was here this time and you hated how relieved you felt.

It was around the sixth time he’d walked away from her that something changed. He came over just like usual and you made him something to eat as you sat and spoke about why she’d chucked him out this time but the way he was with you was slowly evolving as he placed his hand on your knee and rubbed his thumb across it

‘What’s this you’re watching?’

‘It’s a documentary about twin flames’

‘What a twin flame?’

‘It’s basically another word for a soulmate. Someone you have a deep connection with that can’t really be explained. Like they’re your person and you feel this pull to them. You’re meant to spend your life with them, like their your one’ you told him. Watching a cheeky smile spread across his face and you knew what he was about to say before he’d even said it.

‘So like us then?’

‘Well considering this is about a cult that ruined a load of people’s lives I hope not’ you laughed, trying to push him words away as they made you feel strange but he just wrapped an arm around you as he kissed your cheek. Pulling you further into his lap so you could be closer.

Each time he’d seen you he pushed it a little more, holding your hand, kissing your cheek and making cheeky comments to try and make you blush but he was extra touchy tonight. And you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying the attention.

‘Can I have a cuddle please? A proper one’ he pouted and you knew what he meant instantly. You knew it was risky but the selfish part of you wanted to feel close to him so you did what he wanted. Lying down on your sofa before patting your chest and he climbed on top of you like an excited puppy. Resting his head in your neck as he wrapped his arms around you, his weight slightly crushing you but you didn’t mind. One arm around his shoulders as the other reached into his hair to scratch over his scalp.

‘That better?’ You asked, feeling him hum in satisfaction as he nestled himself into you even further and you wondered if he could hear your heart pounding in your chest with how close he was. Feeling his skin press against yours after so long felt comforting and exciting at the same time and you couldn’t help but reach down as press a kiss to his temple.

‘I always feel better with you’ he whispered, his lips moving against your neck making you shiver and you knew he felt it. Feeling his smile brush against you before he took the plunge and placed a gentle kiss to your neck.

You were turned on instantly, a shaky breath falling from your lips before you could stop it and you knew he could tell how much he was affecting you with one simple kiss.

So he didn’t stop. Gently sucking on your sweet spot as he littered your skin with kisses, but it was the way he pressed his crotch into your core that had you trembling.

‘Mase’ you whimpered. Tugging on his hair gently but this just caused I’m to growl into your neck before kneeling up so he could look you in the eyes.

‘Please, gorgeous. Please let me have you’ he begged quietly, eyes wide and dark as he dragged his bottom lip through his teeth. ‘I’ve been so good and I’ve kept my hands to myself for so long but I need you now baby, please’

You froze, not wanting to say no but knowing what saying yes meant and he took your lack of objection to mean he could touch you. One hand sneaking under your shirt to touch your bare waist and your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. He was being so gentle with you, teasing you just the way you liked before his fingers travelled to your pj shorts. Reaching up the leg and pulling them to the side but as soon as his touch landed on your underwear you froze. Eyes meeting his immediately as he ceased his movements.

‘Tell me to stop and I will’ he uttered, but you both knew there was no going back so you shook your head ever so slightly to let him know it was fine to carry on and it only took a beat for him to move his fingers again. Stroking your folds over your underwear and the sensation was driving you insane. Bucking your hips up gently into his hand to let him know you needed more and he was happy to oblige.

His hands moved to your thighs, spreading them out so he could access you a bit easier before his fingers were back over your core. Resuming his movements before dipping his fingers past the hem of your underwear so he could touch you properly.

You gasped at the contact, his fingers feeling like magic after so long and you shut your eyes again before you felt him move to hover over you. His forehead resting on yours as you both stared into each other's eyes and the intensity made you shiver.

‘Don’t close your eyes baby, look at me’ he whispered, fingers pulsing inside of you as he spoke and you whimpered at the sound of his voice. ‘I’ve missed this, missed having you like this’

You couldn't deny you’d missed him too, but there was a reason why you hadn’t been intimate with him for the last few months. He was making you feel too good right in this second though to think about anything else and when you felt his bulge press against your thigh you knew you couldn’t wait any longer.

‘Masey please’

‘What is it, sweetheart?’ He asked, voice soft and slightly playful. You knew he knew what you wanted but he wanted you to ask for it. Threading your fingers through his hair so you could pull his face down and into your neck before finally telling him what he wanted to hear.

‘Fuck me, Mase’ you whispered in his ear, feeling him shudder at your words before a low growl fell from his lips.

‘Good girl’

So he did what you asked, taking his time to re explore your body before holding your hands above your head as he drove himself into you. Each thrust feeling better than the last until you were whimpering his name through your high. Letting him collapse onto your naked body before you both erupted into giggles and even though you knew you should have stopped him, you let him kiss you softly.

‘Sorry, I know we said no more sex but I can’t not have you, pretty girl’ he whispered, lips peppering soft kisses over your cheeks as you blushed at his words. ‘I’m so fucking obsessed with you’

‘Well that’s worrying’

‘Yeah, I’d get some sort of restraining order in place if I were you’ he teased, lips trailing back to your neck again and the sensation made you squirm in delight. ‘Such a good girl for me. You want me again?’

You could feel him already hard against your leg again and against your better judgement for the second time that evening you nodded against his lips. Swallowing his small chuckle at your neediness as you kissed him deeply again, the rules you’d set yourself to protect your heart thrown out the window as you let Mason do with you as he pleased.

Even though he would remind you that he was technically single, you knew it was wrong to fall back into the routine of sleeping together. Knowing he’d be off soon after, leaving you more hurt than you realised each time but you took it because being with him felt so good.

That was until you’d clearly let him get too comfortable and he began to walk all over you. Cancelling plans at the drop of a hat, always being on his phone around you as he constantly texted someone with a smile on his face and you were unsure if it was Robin or someone else he’d met but it still hurt just the same.

The real kicker came when you were looking at the menu for a restaurant Sam had sent you and Mason had caught sight of it over your shoulder. Questioning you where it was and when you explained it was somewhere you’d always wanted to try he promised to take you soon however two nights later you saw the pap pictures of him leaving the very same restaurant with Robin.

You felt crushed, that was your special place that you’d introduced him to and now it was ruined for you. No longer wanting to go there or speak to him for a while so when he text you the next day you left him on read.

You gave in though, like you always did. Mason explaining a few days later when he’d showed up at your door unannounced that she had caught him trying to book a table for the pair of you and he’d panicked and told her it was for her. Telling you he’d take you soon but you no longer cared for it and he knew he’d messed up that time. Being extra soft with you that night as he tried to show you how much he cared for you without any words.

As the weeks went on, you were starting to feel like he kept you around just for sex. Coming and going as he pleased as he knew you’d never deny him and give him what he wanted but a cheeky glance at your phone would prove otherwise eventually.

‘Why do you still have that app?’

‘What app?’

‘The dating app we met on. Why do you still have it downloaded’ he questioned, his tone full of anger and jealousy but in all honesty you’d just forgotten to delete it. You hadn’t been back on it since you’d got Mason's number but he didn’t need to know that.

‘Why wouldn’t I have it? I’m single, remember?’

‘I beg to differ’ he scoffed, knowing he’d crossed a line with his words but he held firm. ‘Delete it please’

‘No, why should I?’

‘Cause I don’t like the thought of you having it on there’

‘Well I’ll be honest Mase, I don’t give a shit what you don't like the thought of. You know where to go if you think differently’ you shrugged, hoping he’d drop the subject and move on but to your surprise he picked his stuff up and walked out your front door without another word. Slamming the door on the way out.

You didn't see him again for a week or so. Knowing he was probably with her whilst you two were sort of mad at each other was making you feel weird so you did what you could to distract yourself. Shopping dates and dinners with your girls and today you had a lunch date with Rose. Filling each other in about what you’d been up to lately but you kept all thoughts about Mason in the back of your mind until Rose left you to pop to the loo.

‘Fancy seeing you here’ you heard, Mason's voice ringing in your ears as the shock ripped through you as you looked up to him. His hand resting on your shoulder with a cheeky smirk plastered over his face.

‘Mason? What are you doing here?’

‘Just had a game of golf with Woody over the road’ he told you, head bobbing in the direction of where he’d just come from. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Late lunch with a friend’

‘Friend? Or date?’

‘Why does it matter? You have a girlfriend Mason’ you told him. Watching his face drop momentarily before his sly smile returned.

‘It doesn’t I guess’ he shrugged but you knew what he meant by that. It didn't matter to him if you were on a date because he knew you’d be crawling back to him as soon as he clicked his fingers and the realisation hit you like a truck. ‘Like you said, you’re single. I have to get going but I’ll text you yeah’ he smiled, dropping a kiss to the top of your head and walking away before you could say anything.

You managed to perk yourself back up before Rose got back. Quickly asking for the bill so she could rush off back to work yet when the waitress came you weren’t expecting her to let you know the bill had been fully paid for and you were free to go.

You knew who had paid instantly. Slight anger rolling through you as you know he’d only done it as he thought you were on a date and was trying to prove a point to you and whoever you were with so you sent him a quick text to let him realise how silly and possessive he’d been.

You felt bad about the last line, but you stood by it. Your whole relationship was him getting his own way and you knew you’d hit a nerve as he never text you back after that.

You were miserable, stuck in this weird middle ground with him where he could never be yours and you knew what you had to do when he eventually came over that evening even though you didn’t want to. His cheeky smile and soft touches had left a mark on you but it wasn't just that. Yeah the sex was great and you always felt a pull to him but you liked him as just Mason. The silly cheeky guy who never failed to make you laugh or brighten your day with just a text.

At least that was how you felt about him once anyway.

He texted you letting you know he’d be over soon so you busied yourself. Putting your dishes away and giving the place a quick hoover but you knew you were doing anything to just not think about what was about to happen.

This felt like make or break for you and him. You didn’t want to be his bit on the side anymore and you were done trying to comfort him through a situation he had full control over. Yes you both went into this knowing it was a bit of fun but things had changed and you were ready to put yourself first. Either he gave you all of him or you were done. Plain and simple.

The sound of your buzzer going filled you with dread.

You opened the door for him, standing off to the side and slightly behind the door so he couldn’t get to you in any way and you could tell he was confused by your standoffishness.

‘You okay?’ he asked, his brows pinched together like he was unsure of what was going on so you nodded at him before walking into your living room and sitting in the armchair so he couldn’t sit next to you

‘Mason I think we should talk’ you told him. Wanting to get in first so you could get your point across but he was looking back at you in confusion.

‘What is it?’

‘I want us to stop seeing each other’

‘What? No I don’t want that’ he explained, his voice and face becoming hard but you tried not to look at him. Knowing it would just make you change your mind. ‘I’m sorry for last week, yeah? It just caught me off guard but I don’t want us to stop’

‘I’m really unhappy, Mason’ you told him truthfully. Watching his face soften ever so slightly as he was clearly disappointed he’d made you upset so you dropped your eyes to the floor so you couldn’t let his emotions influence you. ‘I didn’t ask to be in the middle of you and her and I’m stopping it before it goes any further’

‘What do you want me to do?’ He offered, sounding desperate and you could see he wanted to get closer to you so wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to block him out.

‘I don’t want you to do anything. I’m just trying to protect myself and if you’re carrying on with her then I’m out’ you told him, your eyes flickering up to read his expression and he looked even sadder than before. ‘Cause I bet she doesn’t know about me does she? I bet you have to lie to her when you come and see me’

‘Well technically no. Whenever I come here me and here aren’t on speaking terms so there’s no point’ he huffed but you just rolled your eyes at him. Hating the way he always had an answer for everything. ‘But that’s besides the point, none of that matters anymore cause you’re not in the middle of anything’

‘What do you mean?’

‘That’s why I came over here, to tell you I’ve had enough and I just want you’ he told you softly before his big brown eyes were looking up into yours. His bottom lip wobbling as he tried to swallow down his tears and you felt awful instantly. ‘I can’t keep putting myself through this every other week, it’s stupid. Not to mention you, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this’

‘Are you really not going back?’ You whimpered, tears flooding your eyes at what he might be hinting at but you waited to let him speak to explain properly.

‘When I went home after seeing you today she kicked off about some event she’s going to tonight and I just can’t do it anymore’ he told you, shaking his head as he held a hand out to you. ‘Please come here’

You did as he asked, taking his hand before sitting in his lap so you could hold each other tightly and the overwhelming need to apologise flooded you.

‘Sorry Mase, I had no idea I just-‘

‘Shh, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, okay? I’m the sorry one. I should've never let it get to this point’

As much as you agreed with him, you also had your part to play and before you knew it you were about to admit something you never thought you would. ‘I need to tell you something’

‘What is it babe?’ He asked, pulling away from you so he could look into your eyes and the soft look on his face melted you.

‘I think I like you’ you whispered, a look of shock on his face as your words sunk in. ‘Like, like like you, you know?’ You laughed, watching his eyes brighten as you tried to make light of the situation and you could see your favourite smile returning to his face. ‘I know I shouldn’t and I know this was never the plan but I do really like you and it kills me everytime you go back to her’ you explained. Your voice breaking at the end as you got emotional but his hand on your cheek brought you back to look at him. ‘But I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever weird game you and her have going on. How she’s making you feel is how I’m feeling and I don’t like it’

‘I never meant for that to happen I swear’ he breathed, kissing your forehead as he smiled sweetly at you. ‘You have no fucking idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that’ he laughed, pressing a light kiss to your cheek now but you were left slightly confused. ‘I like you too’

‘Really?’

‘Of course’ he laughed, pulling you tighter to his body as he nestled his face into your neck. ‘All this time I’ve been going back to her to try and get the feeling I always get when I’m with you’ he confessed ‘this just makes it more final for me you know? I’m done messing you around okay, I want you to be mine’

‘Good, cause I wanna be yours’ you laughed, cupping his jaw so you could stroke his cheek and lean down to kiss him properly. It was a kiss full of relief as you gently brushed your lips together after being apart for so long. One full of promises of better times ahead now you were both free to be with each other and you spent a little time talking things through before eventually landing on the topic of seeing each other earlier that day.

‘I know it’s stupid but after last week with the app and then today, I thought you were with someone else and I couldn’t take it. You’re mine okay?’ He confessed and you couldn’t help but let a small chuckle pass through your lips.

‘Ah, so you were jealous’

‘Incredibly so’ he laughed, not caring how he sounded. ‘And I felt stupid as fuck when you text me after and it was Rose. Like it really hit home then that i don’t want anyone else to have you. But I’m not being fair letting someone else have me’

‘I can’t believe we’ve finally got here’ you laughed. Disbelief laced through your voice as he looked up at you shyly. ‘You really want this then?’ You asked, watching him pick up your hands so he could kiss along your knuckles and you felt your heart thump at the sweet gesture. Loving that he couldn’t seem to keep his lips away from you.

‘Of course I do’ he laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose that made you shiver. ‘Being with her, it’s shit. She’s fucking awful to me but I’m stuck in this weird toxic cycle we’re I she says jump and I say how high. But it’s always been different with you’ he confessed, his voice gentle but certain and you couldn't stop smiling. ‘That night we matched and we spoke on the phone for the first time, she’d ended things two days before. I told myself I was done and I was gonna get her out of my system so I went on that app with all the intentions of just finding a girl to sleep with but…’

‘But what?’

‘But I met you, and… I’ve never felt like that before. I just couldn’t get enough of you so yeah when you said you were going out the next night I convinced my friends to go there so I could see you’ he admitted shyly causing you to laugh. ‘You took my fucking breath away, you know that? I couldn’t stop myself from touching you cause I felt like if I didn’t then I couldn't survive. That first time I slept with you, I was expecting to feel shit. I was expecting to be thinking about her but I didn’t. Not for one second’ He told you, eyes all over your face as he was spilling his guts. ‘And all I’ve thought about is you ever since. You make me feel alive when I’ve been walking round like a zombie for years’

You couldn’t speak, his words turning you into a mess so you did the only thing you wanted to do with Mason and leaned into him for a kiss. You didn’t stop this time though, letting him claim you fully once more after so long but this felt different to every other time. It was soft and loving and he repeatedly reminded you that you were his and he was yours and you swore you’d never heard anything so beautiful before.

You laid there for hours, spilling your guts about how you’d missed each other and how excited you were to start fresh. Hands never leaving each other's bodies as well as your lips but when he went to check his phone after it kept vibrating you saw his face drop. Writing out a quick text before coming back to join you but you knew something had changed about him. He was antsy and quiet and constantly checking his phone before standing up and reaching for his clothes.

‘Listen, I’ve got to head home yeah? But I’ll text you in bit and I’ll come see you tomorrow okay?’ He told you, throwing his hoodie over his head and you felt an awful feeling settling in your tummy.

‘Oh um, where are you going?’ You asked, not content with letting him go without an explanation and you could read the guilty look on his face from a mile away.

‘I need to sort something out’ he shrugged but you knew him better than he thought and you knew all the warning signs. Thinking over everything he’d told you tonight and you knew you had to say something now to avoid more heartbreak down the line.

‘Mason I don’t believe you’

‘What? Why not?’ He laughed. Stuffing himself into his shoes as he grabbed his keys but his nonchalance was angering you.

‘Cause this whole night you haven't actually said it’s definitely over with her and now you’re just leaving so suddenly. Why can’t you just tell me where you’re going?’

‘Babe, i…‘

‘Tell me it’s over Mason’ you asked but he stood there just looking at you. Not able to speak so you probed him again. Knowing if you pushed him he’d spill and he looked on the verge of tears. ‘Mason please-‘

‘I can’t’ he whispered, cutting you off as you felt your heart shatter. ‘I have to go’

You let him walk to the front door in silence, quickly chucking on some underwear and a shirt and following him to the door where he was zipping up his coat and you knew you had to be firm with him this time.

‘You walk out the door Mason I promise you, I won’t let you back in’ you told him firmly. Watching his hand rest on the handle but he made no attempt to move it.

‘Y/n don’t do this’

‘You’re the one leaving not me’

‘You don’t understand’

‘No see I understand all of it’ you told him. Hands balled into fists as you tried to convey how you were feeling to him. ‘You’re doing to me what she does to you after you promised you wouldn’t and I won’t stand for it anymore. So I’ll tell you again. You leave Mason and I won’t let you back in’

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. Walking back into the living room so you could sit on your sofa in hopes he’d follow you but when you heard the door shut and silence after you knew he’d left.

You tried holding it in, you really did but you were crushed. You’d fallen for his lies again and let him back in, ignoring all the red flags that now appeared so glaringly obvious and you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Letting yourself have an ugly cry into your pillows as you curled into a ball.

It was never meant to end like this. Mason was only ever meant to be someone to have fun with but you’d known from the second you’d seen him he was going to be special to you. Like your souls knew each other already and once they’d found one another he’d set up home in your heart. That’s why you let him treat you how he had, doing whatever it took so you could call him yours even just for a night here and there but you couldn’t let it carry on and hurt yourself like you were right now.

You didn’t hear from him that night, constantly checking your phone through your tears to see if he’d texted you but each time you were met with a blank screen. Feeling more and more hopeless as time went on until you’d exhausted yourself and you fell asleep.

Thankfully the next morning you had nowhere you needed to be and after checking your phone to find nothing from him still, your misery turned to anger. Suddenly wanting to know who this girl was that he couldn’t keep away from as you’d done everything in your power to ignore that part of his life and after some careful digging you managed to find her instagram. Your heart stopping at the first post you clicked on

Robin_xo

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Robin_xo It’s a forever thing 🩷

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You knew it was him from the first picture. The hoodie being the same one he wore last night and as you scrolled to the next picture your heart sank even more. The same trousers and trainers as yesterday too and you didn’t even want to scroll to the last picture but you did.

There he was, head tucked into her neck as they lay in bed together and you felt sick at the sight of them. Only a few hours before these pictures had been taken he’d been with you telling you that you were his one and you felt the rage slowly start to ripple through you. You felt like an idiot and you refused to be part of his little game anymore.

He may not have the guts to leave her but you were stronger than him and you could walk away from this any time.

You picked your phone up again, blocking his number, blocking his social media and even blocking him on the dating app where you’d first met him just in case he was desperate enough to try you there. Making sure he had no way of getting to you if he tried so you could have a clean break and move on even if the prospect of being without him felt hopeless.

Over the next few days you were able to pull yourself together, the first days being rough but you got yourself back into a routine and had started to perk up by the end of the week.

Your heart still hurt though, wanting nothing more than to unblock him from everything and invite him over but you knew as soon as you looked into his eyes, that had had you from the start, then the gaping hole he left would ache even more.

You didn’t want to be around anyone, choosing to spend your Saturday night wrapped up in a blanket as you fed yourself your favourite snacks. Doing everything you could to stop your mind thinking of other things and you hadn’t felt this settled in a while.

The pounding on your door came as a complete shock to you and the force of it made you jump. You knew it was him instantly but you were determined to ignore him until he went away. You’d told him you wouldn’t let him back in if he came back and you’d half been expecting it at some point but not this quickly.

‘Y/n? Babe you in there?’ You suddenly heard, Mason sticking his fingers through the letterbox of your front door so he could shout directly in and the sound of his loud voice frightened you a little bit. ‘Baby please speak to me. I know I’ve fucked it but please let me in’

You heard the letter box snap shut, hoping that he thought you weren’t in and after a few moments you stood up and rounded the corner into your hallway so you could make sure he was gone. But as soon as you got close you saw it open again, jumping to the side and out the way so you could hide just next to the door and out of sight but you knew it was all in vain.

‘I saw your legs, I know you're there’ he called, shutting the post box back up but it wasn’t for long. Watching it open again as he jammed his fingers through as you were frozen in place. ‘If you don’t wanna let me in then fine, but can you at least unblock me so I can call you. I look like a mad man shouting in the street like this’ he told you and you knew he was right.

You knew he was causing a scene and soon enough your neighbours would be wondering what was happening but you weren’t sure if you wanted to hear him out yet. Even just the sound of his voice now was making you feel uneasy but you knew Mason and you knew he’d sit out there until you spoke to him no matter how long it took.

Against your better judgement you unblocked his number and sent him a quick text to let him know he could call you but you only did it so you could tell him to go away and when you saw his picture flash up to show he was calling, you gulped down a nervous lump before hitting accept.

‘Baby please-‘

‘No’ you sniffed, knowing if he explained you’d be right back under his thumb and you were tired of all of it. ‘I'm not listening, I only unblocked you so I could tell you to leave me alone. All I’ve done is think about what you need and I've hurt myself in the process. I’m done talking about this please just go’

‘No I’m not going. I’m sorry but no you have to hear me out’ he countered, hearing him take a seat on your front step as you contemplated if unblocking him was the right choice.

‘I gave you your chance Mason and you blew it. I’m not opening up and letting you back in just for you to run back to her. I poured my heart out to you and you still went back’

‘Baby, please. I’m not going anywhere this time I promise’ he told you his voice pained but when you didn’t answer him you heard the back of his head thud on the door before you heard some shuffling. ‘I mean it, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll sit out here forever if I have to’

‘Mason I’m sorry, you’ve done this too many times I can’t’ you cried, feeling yourself getting overwhelmed at the fact he wouldn’t go and you couldn’t help but let out a few small sobs. ‘You don’t want me’

‘Of course I do-‘

‘No you don’t, you’re just petrified of being alone so you’re latching onto whoever you can’ you wailed. ‘You’re being selfish and I can’t do it anymore’

‘Please don’t cry. Not when I’m stuck out here and can’t do anything to help’ he pleaded, sounding more and more desperate as the moments went on. ‘Tell me what to do. What can I do to fix this? We’re meant to be together baby, can’t you see?’

‘I used to be able to but you’re hurting me Mason. Everything you do fucking hurts’ you sobbed. Trying to make him feel as awful as possible and from the sound of his breathing on the other end it was working. He sounded wrecked but you were ready to stick the knife in a few more times for good measure. ‘Do you know how hard it is to wake up every morning and know you’re waking up next to her, when you should be with me? It fucking sucks Mason, I hate it’

‘I’m sorry baby-‘

‘No you’re not sorry. I’m sick of being second place okay, I’m done’

‘There is no second place, you’re all there is yeah? you’re my one I promise’

You wanted to believe him. To throw the door open and hurl yourself into his arms but you stayed put. He’d done this to you too many times and you didn’t have it in you to watch him walk away from you again so you kept him out no matter how much it was hurting you both. It would be better for you in the long run to end things here and move on.

‘I bared my soul to you Mason and I thought you’d done the same. I thought we were finally getting somewhere but you’ve never wanted me from the start and now I need you to go’

‘Baby please-‘

‘No Mase! Please just go, please!’ you begged him, hoping he’d take the hint before you hung up on him as you couldn’t take listening to him anymore. He’d hurt you more than anyone else had and the sound of him trying to make things right was just hurting you even more.

‘Okay okay, I’m going’ he told you. His voice raw and full of tears and you could hear him standing up outside. ‘I’m going okay but I’m not giving up. I’m not giving up on us baby so just please please dont block me again and I’ll prove to you I’m serious okay? I’m serious about you’

You didn’t reply, fresh out of words to give him and you hoped your silence was enough for him to get the picture but unfortunately for you he still had more to say.

‘I’ll leave you alone okay, I know my word means nothing to you right now but I’ll make this up to you. I’ll text you on Monday and we’ll figure something out, just promise me you won’t block me’

You didn’t want to make him any promises and you were also unsure as to whether you were going to keep him unblocked so you kept silent again. Hoping he’d get the hint you were done talking to him.

‘Okay well… I’m off then. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Bye baby’ he whispered, waiting a beat to see if you’d reply but when you didn’t he finally hung up.

You didn’t know how he did it, but the urge to throw your door open and go chasing after him was itching just below your skin. You kept yourself rooted to the floor though, waiting for the sound of his car to start and drive away before you picked yourself up off the floor and took yourself back to the sofa.

Where do I go from here? You wondered. Face falling into your hands and you silently wept. You would love to give Mason another chance as you knew deep down in your soul he was your person but even if that was the case it didn’t give him the right to treat you how he had been.

You always prided yourself on sticking to your guns and being firm but when it came to Mason you’d thrown it all out of the window. Doing anything you could to keep him close and you wondered if giving him one more chance would even be worth it.

The rest of the weekend passed you by in a blur. Going to visit your parents on Sunday as you needed some comfort but as soon as you got home the wallowing hole that Mason left in chest started to hurt. He kept to his word and didn’t text you that day but at 8am on the dot on Monday there he was. The sight of his text on your phone making your mouth go dry and you opened it cautiously feeling like as soon as you did he’d pop out from somewhere.

It still hurt hearing from him, but you were glad he wasn’t after a response cause you didn’t have one to give to him right now. Your heart was hurting as you told yourself you wouldn’t let him get anywhere near you again but here he was.

The thought ran across your mind of just blocking him again and being done with it. Hoping he would get the hint and leave you alone but you knew that would never happen. And what if he was telling the truth? Was it really over with her? Was he finally free from whatever spell she had him under and could he one day be fully yours?

Your curiosity eventually got the better of you, pulling up Robins instagram again and you were shocked to find that any trace of Mason was now gone. Even carefully scrolling down the rest of her feed to find the cute pictures of them as teenagers had vanished also and even though you didn’t want to be one of those girls you checked her followers and following to find him missing from both lists.

You knew it was only small but it was something. Something to show he was serious and now all you were left wondering was if he had it in him to put the work in to win you back.

But work in for it he did.

Each day a new text would come through at 8am sharp and whilst for the first few days you were unsure and still a little bit sad, it became part of your routine than you expected. You were still sad about what happened and didn’t know if you had it in you to let Mason back in but he was really trying and with each new text that you left unanswered your resolve was chipping away more and more.

It wasn't just him saying good morning that made your heart defrost a little bit, it was the making sure you had a proper coat and umbrella with you and the cheesy jokes to make you smile. Never once missing a day or sending you one late and over the coming weeks you felt the need to reply grow. Even typing out a few replies sometimes but you chickened out at sending them. Knowing it would open to the floodgates for you to talk and you didn’t know if you were ready yet.

So you kept things one sided for a few weeks, finding yourself anticipating what he might say to you next whilst trying to keep up with where he was. Wanting to watch his stories but not be caught out but in the end you just went for it knowing the amount of people that see meant he’d never realise you did too.

That was until five weeks had passed and you woke up one day to a blank screen. No silly joke, no letting you know what coat you needed or even a simple hello.

You didn’t know what to do or what to think. You were so used to hearing from him now that being woken up to nothing left an unfamiliar feeling in your tummy. Had something happened to him? Or had he simply given up? Tired of trying with you every day to get nothing back and it was in that moment you realised that’s not what you wanted. You knew you were always going to give in eventually no matter how much you told yourself you wouldn’t but now you were unsure as to what to do.

You decided to leave it for a few hours. Giving yourself a deadline of 2pm and if he hadn’t spoken to you by that time then you’d send him a message in hopes he’d reply and as soon as the clock struck two you hit send.

Now you’d replied, the sudden realisation of what you were going to say if he got back to you flashed through your mind. Wondering if you should make him work for it a little bit more but you realised there was no point. It had been over a month since you’d left him sitting on your steps outside and you missed him more and more as each day passed.

The pair of you needed to thrash it out and start fresh rather than let this drag on any longer than needed so you thought about what you wanted to say to him when he replied and when your phone buzzed around half an hour later you picked it up excitedly in hopes he wasn’t mad at you or had given up.

You were filled with giddy excitement, knowing he wasn’t mad at you but his phone was dead and you felt like a huge weight had been lifted as you finally admitted you missed him. You were done with playing games with him and dragging anything out

The rest of the day dragged, antsy to get home and speak to Mason but you’d agreed to have dinner with a colleague and didn’t want to appear rude. Thankfully they had issues with their babysitter so you got away at a reasonable time and were able to hop in the shower and get ready for bed just in time to text Mason and let him know you were ready for him.

He read the message straight away but it took around five minutes for him to actually call you. Your heart in your throat as his picture came up and with shaky hands you clicked accept and readied yourself to talk to him.

‘Hello?’

‘Hey’ he answered, a sigh of relief pouring from him and he spoke and the butterflies swarmed in your tummy as you listened to the sound of his voice in what felt like the first time in forever. ‘You alright?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. You?’

‘Yeah I’m good’ he told you softly, closing your eyes as a wave of emotion rippled over you. ‘I’ve missed your voice’

You couldn’t stop the quiet sob that fell from your lips at his confession. You missed his voice too but you didn’t want to admit it to him right now.

‘Please don’t get upset’ he whispered. Concern filling his voice as he listened to you struggling to hold it together. ‘Please baby, cause I might do something drastic’ he joked, feeling the laughter bubble up and out of you before you could stop it and it’s like you could feel him smiling down the phone.

‘Oh yeah? Like what?’

‘Whatever you want, I’ll do it’ he told you seriously. ‘I mean it, whatever you want from me to make you happy, I’ll do it’

‘I asked you to leave me alone, you didn’t do that’

‘Cause I know we’d both be miserable in the long run’ he told you pointedly and you had to reluctantly agree. You had been miserable for so long but this felt like a bit of a turning point.

You kept the conversation light, letting each other know what you’d been up to lately and you could feel yourself slipping back into the same headspace as when you first met. Hanging on his every word as he made you laugh and the itch to see him was slowly growing.

‘This feels a bit like old times huh?’ You smiled. ‘You know, like the first night we matched? we’ve come full circle a bit’

‘I still remember that call’ he whispered ‘I knew I was fucked as soon as I heard your voice’ he laughed, hearing him moving around so he could get comfortable and it made you miss him even more. You wanted to get comfortable in his arms so he could hold you together. ‘Do you think I can see you soon?’

‘I think so, yeah’ you told him quietly, Mason giving no response to you but you could feel his smile down the phone. ‘Mason?’

‘Yes baby’ he answered, your tummy flipping at the sound of the pet name again. He’d called it a million times before but this felt different. It felt real.

‘Is it really over with her’

‘I promise, it’s done’ he told you sincerely and you believed him straight away. ‘Whatever you need for me to prove it to you I will okay’

‘I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you-‘

‘No it’s not that, but I've messed up and I need to prove myself. I’ve not given you anything to trust but I can change that and I will’ he told you pointedly.

‘What happened, Mase? Why did you go?’ You asked tearily before hearing him let out a sigh.

‘When I came here that night, I was serious about ending things. But she’s all I’ve ever really known so when she asked if I could come back and see her I only went because I'm weak. I don’t really have an excuse I just panicked but I knew I’d messed up straight away and then I saw she put that fucking post up. I told her to take it down and I tried to text you but they weren’t delivering and when I called you it was going straight to voicemail. I even tried messaging you on the bloody app but you weren’t coming up so I logged out and then when I searched again you came up’ he sighed. ‘I knew then I’d lost you so I really tried with her for a few days but you’re always on my mind. It's like I’d look at her but I’d just be wishing I was looking at you, pretending you were next to me and no matter what I did that never went away. I don’t feel for her what I feel for you, don’t think I ever have really and I knew I had to break the cycle with her. We loved each other but we just didn’t like each other anymore’

‘How do you know that won't happen to us?’ you asked quietly. Not sure you could ever not like Mason even after everything but if it could happen to him and his childhood sweetheart then what chance did you have?

‘I can’t make you any promises baby, but I just have this feeling you know? Me and her hurting each other was a routine, when we weren’t shouting at each other then it didn’t feel right. It’s almost like we took pleasure in making the other miserable but knowing I’d hurt you, that absolutely broke me’ he told you. His voice wobbling at the end as his emotions got the better of him and that was all it took for you to get upset yourself. Small sobs that you’d tried to keep at bay now battling their way to their surface and you knew Mason heard them straight away.

‘Please don’t cry love’ he whispered and you could hear him sitting up in bed like he was trying to hear you better.

‘Sorry-‘

‘No no don’t be sorry’ he interrupted, his voice full of sorrow. ‘I just hate that I can’t do anything’

‘It’s fine, I’ll be alright’ you told him but clearly you weren’t convincing enough as you heard him get out of bed on the other end.

‘No I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m coming over okay?’

‘You don’t have to, I’ll be fine in a minute’

‘No I do. If you don’t want me to come then I won’t but I can’t be so far away knowing you’re upset’

You didn’t want him being far away anymore either and the prospect of being close to him for a little bit sounding more enticing by the second and before you knew it your mouth was running away with you.

‘There’s a spare key under the plant pot’

‘I’ll be ten minutes okay? Just stay where you are’ he told you and you could hear him rustling around on the other end.

‘Okay’ You choked and after a quick goodbye he was gone.

You tried to calm yourself down a bit. Sitting yourself up in bed to try and stop the tears but no matter what they kept flowing and the anticipation of seeing Mason was making you feel sick.

You heard your front door open, gathering yourself together so you could try and calm down some more. Switching the lamp on beside you but as soon as he burst through the door you felt yourself breaking down again.

He was rushing over to you in an instant and you let him hold you to his chest. Tucking your face in his neck as his scent overtook you and you felt yourself melting into his embrace.

‘Shhhhh it’s okay. It’s okay baby I’m here now. I've got you yeah?’ He whispered. Rocking you back and forth to soothe you but all you could do was cry your little broken heart out once more. Gripping his hoodie with your fists like he might disappear but he was there and he was real. His fingers slowly rubbing over your scalp as he tried to calm you down but all you could feel was his own breathing becoming more ragged as he got emotional himself.

The pair of you couldn’t seem to separate, holding each other as tightly as you could as you cried out all of your pain. Him rubbing your back gently to try and soothe you but it was his comforting smell that relaxed you more than anything. Letting it engulf you as you squeezed him tighter before pulling back to look at him.

‘Please don’t cry anymore beautiful’ he whispered, gently wiping the last few tears from under your eyes and you gently reached out to wipe the tears away from his own face. The need to have him tell you face to face it was finally over being the only thing on your mind as you knew you’d be able to read him so without a second thought you cupped his face and smiled as he rested his cheek in your palm.

‘Is it really done?’

‘It’s done baby’ he nodded, and you knew he was being honest. ‘Last time I was here, when I sat outside, as soon as I left I went and got my stuff and I haven’t seen or spoken to her since’

‘Really?’

‘I promise. And you know what? I feel so relieved. Like huge weights off my shoulders cause I know it’s really done and it’s over’ he told you, unable to stop himself pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and you shivered at his touch before wrapping your arms around him again.

‘Look at me’ he whispered, pulling back so the pair of you could look at each other and even though he looked the saddest you’d ever seen him his eyes looked less troubled and you felt your heart settle. ‘Even if you really are done with me and this is it, then I just want you to know I’ll always be grateful for you, you know? Things have been different with you from the start in the best way possible and I can’t even begin to describe it. I just feel drawn to you, we’re like magnets. Like maybe it sounds stupid but it’s like our souls are connected. I know you said it was a cult but you’re my twin flame baby’ he laughed, making you roll your eyes at his attempt at a joke but your smile mirrored his before he got serious again.

‘You made me see how unhealthy everything was and I’ve never felt more complete than when I’m with you. You make me feel safe and you feel like home. Like when I’m with you my mind finally switches off and I know everything’s alright. Meeting you changed everything for me but I get that I may have pushed you too far’

‘I’m not done with you’ you told him. Watching his face relax as your words sunk in. Knowing you felt the exact same as him and that’s why you’d been holding on to him for so long. ‘I really almost was but I can’t keep away’

‘I’ll make things right i promise’ he breathed, his voice strained as he tried to hold himself together and even though he was clearly emotional you were ready to set down some ground rules.

‘If we do this, we do it my way alright?’

‘I’ll do whatever you want, i promise you’

‘I need time okay. I’m not saying we have to keep apart like we have been but I’d like for us to take it slow and make sure this is really what we want. I can’t get hurt like this again Mase’

‘I know, and I never would again, yeah? But we can go at whatever pace you like’ he told you and you couldn’t stop the smile taking over your face at his words. You knew he was being serious and the way he started smiling because you were made your heart thump, letting him pull you in closer as he cupped your jaw. ‘I missed you so much’ he whispered, kissing your head gently. ‘But I also missed who I was when I’m around you. You bring out the best parts of me. You make me want to be better, to do better, I want to be good for you, you know?. I couldn't have done it without you, I didn’t even want to do it for myself but I- I care about you so much’ he confessed.

You couldn’t speak, his sweet words rendering you speechless so you did the only thing you could think of to show him you felt the same. Leaning forward to softly capture his lips and you could tell he was shocked. Freezing ever so slightly before he melted into you and kissed you back.

You’d missed his kisses more than anything, the way just a simple touch of his lips on yours had the power to relax you like they did and you wanted to feel even closer to him than you currently were so you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him pull you further into his body.

Neither of you tried to take anything further, content with just feeling each other after what felt like too long apart and even when you tried to pull away he chased your lips so he could kiss you again before you couldn’t stop smiling. Foreheads resting against each others so you could still be close and it was only when he bumped his nose against yours gently that you found the courage to look at him.

‘That was unexpected’ he smiled, making you laugh out of embarrassment a little bit but he kissed your cheeks to let you know it was fine.

‘What happens now, Mase?’

‘What do you want to happen?’

‘A fresh start?’ You smiled, causing him to nod at you shyly. ‘I don’t wanna hold onto any anger or use anything against each other or anything like that. I just want us to be together and be happy. Just the two of us’

‘I want that too, more than anything’ he confirmed. ‘like I never wanna make you sad ever again, it kills me knowing how I’ve made you feel. I really would do anything to make this work, baby. I wanna grow with you and laugh with you and make you happy, yeah? Never wanna see you cry again’

‘I don’t think I’ve got anymore tears left’ you laughed, pulling him back into a hug and your heart fluttered at the way he clung to you. Stroking your back as he hid in your neck and you relished in the comfortable silence.

‘She knows about you’ he told you suddenly. His voice was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him but when you pulled back he must have sensed your uneasiness and carried on to reassure you. ‘Not everything, like she doesn’t know who you are but when I told her I wasn’t coming back this time she asked if there was someone else. She’d had her suspicions for a while but I just told her I’ve got a very good friend who I don't wanna just be friends with anymore. And that I love her enough to give her everything she wants and not keep hurting her because we can’t figure our shit out’

‘Love?’ You breathed. Wondering if the word had slipped out by accident but he nodded his head to let you know that’s what he meant to say.

‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to say it. It just needed you to know’ he told you softly. Thumb stroking your cheek as he gazed down at you adoringly. ‘You still give me butterflies, you know that? just like you did the first time I saw you. They’ve never gone away and I don’t think they ever will’

‘Oh Mase’ you whispered. So overwhelmed by everything he’d told you tonight you didn’t know where to start. You just wanted to hold him and kiss him and let him know you were going to be okay so you did just that. Kissing him softly before you pulled each other into your arms.

It felt like a dream, sitting there quietly and content with him as you just held each other together. Focusing on each other's breathing as you melted even closer together and you wished you could stay like this in his arms forever.

‘I’ll head off soon, yeah?’ He whispered into your hair, hands stroking your back lightly but you pulled away with a pout before he tucked some hair behind your ear. Smiling softly at you as you looked at him in disappointment.

‘Do you have to?’

‘I thought you wanted to take it slow?’

‘I do, but not tonight’ you huffed. ‘I need you here tonight’

‘Oh yeah? Need me here to do what?’ He asked, his voice getting a little more cheeky but he knew you didn’t mean it like that.

‘Hold me’ you whispered, watching his face soften before pressing another kiss to your cheek.

‘Come on, I’ve got you’ he whispered, the pair of you getting comfortable under the covers and you shivered as his thumbs stroked over your waist lightly. ‘You know, I wished I would of known there was a key under the plant pot when I was sat outside freezing my balls off a few weeks ago’

‘Trust me you wouldn’t have wanted to see me then’ you chuckled. ‘I was ready to tear you a new one’

‘I would have taken it’ he smiled, pulling you into his body a little further. ‘But I think it was better I gave you some space for a little while’

‘What about the constant texts?’

‘Don’t lie, you loved them. I know you were waiting everyday to see what I had to say next’

‘The animal facts were my favourite’

‘Oh yeah? Well I’ve got a load saved up for you’ he told you. The pair of you giggling like school kids but the wide eyed look on his face made your tummy flutter and when he lent down to kiss your cheek softly you could feel the blush spreading over them. ‘I know you wanna take things slow but I’m so excited to do all our firsts together again’ he told you softly, and you looked up at him with a confused expression.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know like, tomorrow will be the first morning I get to wake up next to you and not feel weird about it. And I’m gonna take you out on a first date, a real one and I'll take you wherever you want. And then you can come stay with me for the first time and I’ll show you off to my family when you’re ready’ he told you excitedly. ‘Does that all sound okay?’

‘That sounds perfect’ you laughed, loving how excited he seemed knowing he’d get to do all these things with you again

‘As much as I’d love to stay up all night yapping with you, you need some sleep baby’

‘You’ll be here when I wake up, won’t you?’

‘Of course I will’ he reassured you and after a quick kiss good night you got settled on his chest.

‘Hey, Mase?’ You whispered after a few minutes, knowing you should trying to sleep but there was something you wanted to tell him before you did.

‘Yeah?’

‘I’ve deleted that app’ you told him. Feeling his chest rumble under you as he laughed before placing a soft kiss to your hairline.

‘Me too’ he whispered. ‘Does this mean you’re not single now?’

‘Almost’

‘I can work with that’ he told you quietly, kissing your forehead softly as you snuggled yourself into his chest even more.

Were things perfect? No

Were they salvageable? Yes

If you would have asked yourself that question a few weeks ago then you might have had a very different answer but laying in Mason's arms right now and the promise of a fresh start when you woke up in the morning being only hours away made you realised that he would always be worth it. That you hadn’t just chosen him but the universe had picked you for each other and whilst life was never simple, you knew you’d never be lonely again.

Thank you so so much for taking the time to read this 🩷 I’d love it if you could send me some feedback to let me know what you think 😘

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feistyfreaks · 5 months

Note

that recent miguel fic was so hot omg now I want to request one 😳. Imagine dbf!miguel sexting us while away at a business trip or while reader is out with friends or something (..or even over the dinner table while out with our dad.. maybe..) he’d definitely be writing the most poetic, romantic yet filthy and disgusting texts ever, like ones you’d have to take breaks after each sentence because oh my god..

& with his ancient ass hed most likely send nudes via email as well 😔 but we’ll eat it up every time!

HIDDEN CONNECTIONS ┈ ! ✶

₊❏❜ content⋮ dbf!miguel x f!reader. huge age gap. readers aged up (18+). dirty talk. sexting. porn w not much of a plot.

note⋮ i love reading through these requests, i love y’all so much 😭!! yet again, sorry for the wait, procrastination has been eating me alive lol. but without further a do, i hope you enjoy 🙈.

dividers by @cafekitsune.

you sighed, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear as you browsed through the websites catalog, eyeing all sorts of styles. you wanted to up your relationship with miguel and try something new, so you decided to go lingerie shopping.

you scrolled through the petite section, bored out of your mind as you tried to look for something interesting and more erotical. you took a glimpse at the time, noticing that it was past midnight.

you raised a brow, "already? could've sworn it was eight a few minutes ago." you murmured to yourself as you glanced back at your screen, a baby pink set stood out to you and your eyes lit up, clicking on the link without hesitation.

the price was pretty expensive, but you marked it into your cart - just then a notification from gmail appeared at the bottom right of your screen.

it was from miguel.

miguel was your dads best friend, and you grew smitten by his charm growing up. at first you believed that it was a silly little crush that you’ll eventually get over, but that never happened.. instead your relationship with him began developing throughout your young adult years.

you sensed the irresistible tension and you started to question what the two of you were, and your question was answered when one thing led to another, both your clothes being discarded as things became heated in such a short amount of time.

but you struggled with your feelings, torn between your blossoming desires for miguel and the guilt associated with betraying your father's trust; but the age difference between the two of you only added a sense of excitement to your relationship, and both of you fell into the temptation of your desires, initiating an intimate connection, and that’s how you two got yourselves into a secret affair.

as you opened the email, the subject line immediately caught your eye. 'mi luz,' it read. miguel was about twice your age, and for some reason he always stuck to emailing no matter how many times you taught him how to regularly text — he believed emailing was better because they were more formal and easier to navigate.

you quickly opened the email and giggled, “esa linda sonrisa tuya ilumina mi día, y esos ojos tuyos iluminan mis noches."

a small grin curved upwards onto your glossed lips, it sounded kind of corny but you strove to decipher the meaning and intent behind each word. your hands flew across the keyboard as you quickly replied. “pfftt, you’re flattering me miguel. what’re you even doing up so late?” you pressed on send, and not long after you received a new notification.

“i’ve been thinking about you, i miss you. n' what's your excuse for being up so late hm? it's past your bed time nena.”

you could sense his teasing tone over the damn screen, and you couldn’t wipe off that cheeky grin of your face. your fingers hovered over the keyboard, you wanted to keep it a surprise, but the excitement got a hold of you first.

"well.. i was online shopping.. and came across this, what do you think of it?" you messaged along with the picture of the lingerie attached.

you waited eagerly for his response, like a puppy wanting to receive validation from its owner. maybe you should've waited, but you couldn't keep surprises a secret.

"why? are you planning on seducing me with that little outfit, chiquitita?”

a mischievous grin plastered onto your face reading his reply.

“maybe, maybe not, but you didn’t answer my question. do you like it? y'know, easy access.”

“the lace is pretty. yea i like it, and you're right. it does have such easy access. i’d love to see you in that.”

you chuckled, switched tabs and clicked on the checkout option. you filed in the credit card information along with the address, admitting the final 'confirm payment’ button.

“well you’re in for a surprise when you get back from your trip mister." you typed, "how much longer do i have to wait until i get to see you, you know i don't like waiting, i really miss you.”

“aww, getting needy aren’t we? i’ll be back home around this week darling. can’t wait to see you all dressed up for me. i’m looking forward to splitting those pretty legs of yours open and play with that pretty pussy until your soaking wet on my fingers.” he wrote back as you overlapped your legs to feel your clit pulse in your panties.

“i really miss you mig. just want you to sink your fingers into my hole and tell me how much of a good girl i am. i need you to come home n’ fill me up, fuck me into this damn mattress.”

“i want to come home just as badly as you want me to, but we both know that this business trip is important. but i promise you that i’ll bully my cock into your weeping pussy and fuck my cum into your tummy.”

your heart raced and you squeezed your legs tighter as you read email, as you and miguel continue your fiery exchanges, the emails become more explicit.

his filthy words made you palpitate, and he never failed to noticeably make an impact on you, you always found yourself drenching your undies. “fuck yes. use me, want you to pound your cock into me, m so wet at the thought.”

“yea? que putita eres mi amor, show me how much of a slut you are, show me how wet you get from telling you how good i’ll fuck you chiquitita.”

you sat up eagerly, slipping your sleeping shorts down to your thighs as you clicked on the small camera icon. slowly but lewdly you spread your legs, your hand came down to rub at the wet patch on your panties. your cursor hovered over the white button as it snapped the photo, and with another click you hit send.

your grew hot and impatient as you began pressing on the sticky nub over the drenched fabric. it was ridiculous how you were sexting using via email, but it only served to make you beyond hornier with the new adjustment.

“shit baby, look at how you’re fucking dripping. why don’t you go and hump your pillow, yea? tease your little cunnie for me, wanna see your cute pussy wetting the bed. i just know you’ll be letting out the most cutest noises while thinking of how i’ll fucking ruin you when i get back.”

heat raced through you and towards your core, you had to pause to take a deep breath.

holy shit.

you felt your cheeks go hot, and you reached for the pillow as you happily obliged, eagerly kicking off your panties and thighs cradling the soft silk as you settled your warmth into the pillows edge.

you let a soft moan feeling your clit pulse again. you bunched up your blanket and placed it underneath your abdomen as you leaned forward, stomach pressed up onto the bed sheets and the comfort of your blanket.

your page refreshes and your met with another email from miguel, this time there was a few images attached to his message.

you opened it and you feel your cunt clench around nothing. his belt was undone and you could visibly see the pink leaky tip sticking out of the confinements of his boxers, the second image displayed the underside of his fat girth and you felt yourself beginning to drool, the third photo portrayed his thumb rubbing on his slit as a string of his arousal stuck onto on his thumb, showing you just how sticky he was and the caption overall made you bite your lip.

“gonna put you on all fours, y te voy a poner al reves, te veras tan rica mientras te lo hago por detrás.”

you slowly roll your hips, your slick dampening the fabric and you effortlessly slide against the cushion. you moaned, tilting your head to the side and drifting deeper in thought. you start to think of him atop of you, his body fervid against yours, his heated lips attached to yours, his pelvis snug into yours as his cock splits you open — your hips hump the pillow faster and you whine out in euphoria.

your thighs tensed around the soft pillow and you feel your pussy practically flutter. with another rough roll of your hips you stutter, clit pulsing as you gush onto the bed sheets.

#ff⋆reqs 🧁#ff⋆inbox 📬#hornyhour #feistyfreaks #dbf!miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #smutmas 2023 #xmas #kinkmas

557 notes · View notes

leclsrc · 1 year

Text

has yet to pass ✴︎ cs55

centre image by tony belobrajdic

genre: exes to lovers, slow burn, fluff, humor, slight angst, yearning, some sexual tension

word count: 12.5k

Four years after an angry breakup, the universe is bored enough to nominate Carlos Sainz for GQ Sports’ Man of the Year and assign you to be the writer of his profile.

notes... internet translated spanish lol

auds here... requested, this fic is long! i hope you all like it apologies for the inactivity </3 exes to lovers we have a very love/hate relationship but this was a pleasure to write

You’re half sure your head is about to pop out from how annoyed you are.

At the office, mornings move slowly in the very corporate-desk-job kind of way, but today is notably slower. Your boss had called you in an hour earlier to discuss important matters, and this is your third hour waiting already. Either your boss is a dumbass, or you got the wrong email, which both essentially mean the same thing anyway.

The time on your Panthère tells you you’re curving into the three-and-a-half hour territory, and right as you’re about to get up to get a glass of water, the large wooden door swings open and your name is called through the crack in it. Suddenly the irritation dissipates into nerves, and because Jonathan didn’t specify anything in the email, you realize you could be wading into anything right now. Termination. Promotion. A brick to the head.

“Morning,” you offer once the door’s been shut behind you.

“Sorry for the wait,” he says politely. “We’ve been in discussions with GQ Sports all day. All night last night, too. It’s all proper boring.”

You nod, remaining fairly quiet and waiting for him to break the news to you. He clears his throat, places his hands on his hips and exhales.

“Right, so this is all related to GQ, actually. They’re doing a Men of Sports segment and they asked us to assign one of our writers to an athlete. You’re our best right now, really—your article turnout last year was absolutely stellar. So, there’s, ah… there’s tennis, yeah, there’s footie, obviously, and—under usual circumstances, you’d get to choose one of either. But we actually really wanted to cover racing this year.”

The cloud above your head carrying the dreams of interviewing Leo Messi or Roger Federer pops dismally.

“Racing.” You repeat curtly.

“It’s gotten proper viral this year!” He smiles, gestures to nothing to prove his point. “Every teenage girl’s got a crush or other on a driver. Anyway, we set you up with the racing category, and the segment comes out in around six months.”

“I’ve got a tiny bit of a qualm about th—”

“So it’s decided. GQ’s going to pick out the driver for you, and you’ll be introduced at a gala next week.”

“Wait—” you laugh uncomfortably. “I’m thankful for the opportunity, and wow, thank you for choosing me, really, but do I not get to pick my own driver?” You clear your throat. “I mean, I’m spinning the story.”

“I know,” he sighs. “But this deal moved pretty quick, so a majority of the leverage goes to them. Don’t worry, though—a lot of the drivers will have great stories, I’m sure. You’ve got Lewis, you’ve got the Verstappen guy, you’ve got the Rosberg fellow…”

“Rosberg retired in 2016.”

“Oh, fuck, seriously? Well. Hit me with a brick then.”

—

The gala is a fundraiser to celebrate the season kicking off, you realize when you step outside the car and read the navy blue banner across the entrance to the carpet. It’s all fancy fonts and table placements, but One look at the watches and earrings in this place will tell you there’s more than enough funds already. You digress, anyway, walking inside to find the only one person you’re familiar with in the world of racing.

“Lewis,” you mutter when you locate him, voice dry with dread (and lack of alcohol), “kill me now.”

“On the off chance you’re serious—I’m actually willing to do so.” You slap his arm and he scowls.

“I’m supposed to meet the driver I’m writing about tonight, but the GQ guy hasn’t texted me. Christ, I hope it’s you. At least I have years’ worth of blackmail on you to really sell the profile.”

He only laughs, guiding the both of you to a champagne tower and offering you one. You down it in seconds, suffocated by nerves and the curiosity blooming inside you. “You don’t think it’s…?”

“I think they keep track of those things,” he replies, but his voice is only half-sure. “Conflict of interest and that. But Jonathan did say it was a quick deal?” You nod. “So it’s not impossible, I suppose.”

Big help, you chirp sarcastically, eyes perusing the large room. There are tables populated by celebrities, by politicians, and of course, by drivers. You keep scanning, squinting to chisel your search further, but it’s cut off by a tap of two fingers on your shoulder.

“Hi. I’m Nick, the GQ rep, and I believe you and I have a meeting,” says the man behind you with an excited smile. “Why don’t we…?”

He gestures to the expanse of the room and you nod, falling into step beside him. He introduces the article, the concept of shadowing the athlete to achieve a more immersive piece of work as a result, something novel and innovative.

He’s right in the middle of talking about Jonathan when he stops at one of the cocktail tables and stations the two of you there. “Okay. You’re one of the biggest names in sports journalism right now, so it means a lot for you to want to represent racing. Especially because both Neymar Jr. and Nadal expressed bids to get you to write their segments!”

“They wh—”

“Right, here we are. Meet your shadow—or, subject—for the next six-ish months.” He places two hands atop your shoulders and wheels you around, so your eyes meet those of, “…Carlos Sainz Jr.!”

Yeah. This is fucking rich.

Nick is talking but none of it falls right on your ears. Everywhere in your mind, alarm bells ring at full volume, alerting you to the danger present, almost. You plaster on a fake smile to acknowledge his presence, but his outstretched hand goes unnoticed. Clearly picking up on the tension, Nick gives a sheepish giggle and ducks out of the exchange, leaving the two of you woefully alone.

“Carlos,” you say politely. “What a nice surprise.”

There is a limited amount of phrases that are considered acceptable to say to an estranged ex of four years. There’s oh, what a surprise!, didn’t expect to see you here, you look well. It’s limited because nobody ever thinks to run into their estranged ex of four years, and even then, any sane person would do well to avoid interaction at all costs. So you’re really the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to be situated with a stuffy public interaction, under the guise of professionalism, with your ex-boyfriend.

Your history is heavy in the air. The last time you saw each other, things had been a lot different, but now you’re two professionals. Really. You really are professional.

“I refuse to be within ten metres of the guy,” you say, on your third martini. Lewis faces you with poorly hidden concern, and beside him, roped into your lovelorn matters, so does Sebastian Vettel. “Ten metres. Actually, no. Make it twenty. How can I be arsed to write an all-over-him feature about a guy I absolutely hate and haven’t seen in four years?! I had it all sussed—get assigned to Lewis, write the best feature, then restore his eighth world title.”

“—She’s joking,” coughs Lewis.

“Oh, but now? Now, it’s get assigned to my ex, write like shit, never get recognized for a good piece, and die hungry and alone on the streets of London. You know, I should just call Jonathan and tell him I don’t want this. I’d rather go back to writing normal articles.” You pry your clutch open but a hand stops you before you can.

“Don’t.” Sebastian’s voice is gentle, but firm. “This is a test of character, don’t you think? More than that—it’s a test of how good you are as a writer.”

“True,” interjects Lewis, chewing on a quiche. “If you can write a stellar profile about an ex, I mean—you’re just proper talented. But it’s also about how strong you are now, morally. Emotionally.”

“I’m perfectly fine emotions-wise, thanks,” you retort. Both men shrug, backing off, and you feel like you should be smug about it—but your mind is stuck on the topic even as the night passes.

You end up deciding when you’re kicking your heels off in your flat a few hours later, giving Jonathan a ring despite the late hour. It takes a while for the man to pick up, but he does eventually, with an excited tone colouring his voice—“How’s my star writer? Sainz, huh? Real eye candy.”

“About that…” you start, walking over to your bookshelf and chewing your lip, trying to think of the right way to decline the offer. Your eyes land on one of the several awards you’ve garnered in your profession—in fact, the very first one. Most Promising Journalist, it reads, embedded into the front’s frosty surface.

Four years ago. And you’ve proven it since, if the crowd of glass around it is anything to go by. Why let a petty ex destroy what could potentially be one of your biggest gigs yet? Your segue outside of sports journalism?

“Earth to—yeah, hello? About what?” Jonathan’s voice breaks you out of your thought train.

“… I just, uh,” you say, nodding, “I wanted to say I’m really excited.”

—

Carlos Sainz Jr., 27, is on the rise as one of Formula One’s most talented drivers… (add more info…) His smooth driving style and charm has led him to become one of the most popular figures in the sport, both on and off the paddock. He is also a huge, absolutely irritating, cannot for the life of him be humble!!!, SON OF A BITCH, PRICK, ASSHOLE—AND THE BIGGEST WANKER ON PLANET EAR

“The team will be here in just a minute,” says the lady who’d ushered you into this meeting room in Maranello. You half-shut your laptop in fear she’ll catch sight of your brief Word document meltdown, but she doesn’t seem to notice, setting a glass of water beside you and you stare idly at it while waiting for the rest of the room to enter. You’re expecting Nick, Carlos, Mattia—the boss—and Charles, his teammate. Jonathan’s already beside you playing Candy Crush on his phone, as per boomer law.

This meeting is pointless. You’ve already exchanged the bare minimum pleasantries with Carlos, anyway, and you cannot for the life of you decipher why there needs to be a whole new corporate clash just for this. But here you are anyway, awaiting your ex-boyfriend’s arrival into the room and back into your sweet life.

He enters with everybody else, his hair half-damp and his eyes meeting yours almost immediately. You clear your throat and turn away, standing to shake hands with Mattia. He’s pleasant about it, expressing excitement for the final output and commending your earlier work as a writer. You offer the polite small talk back, discussing plans for the article and the release date.

“Over at GQ Sports, we’re really trying to make this concept as immersive as possible. That requires the writer to shadow the athlete at almost all times, maybe taking a couple days off if needed. That might mean she gets a paddock pass, and things like that.”

“That’s no problem,” Mattia says. “Anything for the article.”

You end up being introduced to Charles, too—Charles Leclerc, who wears a contagious smile and won’t stop letting his eyes frolic in between you and Carlos, like he can sense the history. You suspect Carlos brought him up to speed, anyway, but it’s still a bit amusing. While the meeting carries on, Charles chips in with a joke. “Hey, if you find this guy irritating, you and I are going to get along.”

You laugh a bit, but remain mostly quiet for the sake of being professional. You miss the way Carlos’ eyes linger on you a second too long, focusing on the tail-end of the meeting so you can, for lack of better word, get the fuck out of here.

Of course, though, you’re stopped in the middle of the parking lot by Carlos himself, whose apologetic face is the first thing you see when you turn around with a huff. You’d already known it was him—he was calling your name loudly as he jogged over to you—but it’s still a sour surprise.

“What?”

“Let’s”—he pauses to take a breath—“talk. Listen, I know it must be an imposition for you to write about this, about me. Let me make it clear that I’m 100% okay if you choose to switch athletes. And if you needed any background information, I’ll be willing to give you that.”

“I don’t care what you’re okay with,” you say blankly. “And I’ve got Google.”

“Right.” He stares. “Um. Okay, well, let’s—can we agree, then? To be civil, for the period of time this article will be written?”

You consider the truce. As much as you’d like to be snarky with him and make your disdain all the more clear, you’re also not interested in making a scene or causing any type of fuss around his—and your—colleagues. The glass awards on your shelf flash through your mind, and you inhale softly. “Okay.”

He smiles. This seems a bit more difficult than you thought, for reasons you didn’t even consider.

“Forget anything ever happened,” he says when your hands meet. Something jolts through you.

Yeah, you’re fucked.

—

Your introduction to the actual sports part of the profile goes well, with a flurry of chaos in Bahrain.

Despite Jonathan’s texted reminder from Friday morning (Stick to Sainz the whole time), you find yourself staying in your comfort zone, ergo following Lewis around nearly the entire weekend. Granted, you are itnroduced to a few more drivers—Mick, Esteban, Alex—but also Lando, one of Carlos’ closest friends on the paddock, who makes dirty jokes from the get go.

Still, even Lewis has to remind you you have another driver to actually cover, so you reluctantly detach from him on the race day and begin your search for—

“Carlos,” you utter, breathless from exhaustion when you finally locate him inside his room at the motorhome, which you swear you checked twenty minutes ago. Either he’s avoiding you or he’s truly impossible to find. He adjusts his suit and looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“Yes?”

“I need a couple of words from you.” You smile politely, taking a seat on the couch armrest. “Like, pre-race nerves, jitters, routine. Anything?”

“I have a playlist,” he says, humming. “I like to call family, have a talk with the engineers.” He says it like en-yi-neers, but you already anticipated it. You’ve known en-yi-neers for years. You know how he talks, pronounces everything. “And I say a prayer, trust the car.”

“Trust the car?” You type the last few words onto your laptop, which you’d been toting around all day. It balances on your lap. “Any follow-ups to that, considering there’s been some chatter around the car this year and its supposed faultiness?”

“I just do what I do best,” he replies, steadfast. “The rest is a gamble I’m willing to take.”

“Perfect.” You finish. “That was a great line. Thanks so much, really.” It’s your reporter voice, the one you use for just about everyone else on the paddock. He nods in response, and the room ebbs into silence again. It’s awkward, when you excuse yourself and exit, already planning exactly how you’re going to tell this to Lewis. Halfway out the door, you purse your lips, turn, and then:

“Good luck, by the way.” Your voice falls soft.

He looks up, momentarily surprised. “Thank you.”

You nod a little, smiling as you shut the door.

Carlos ends up getting second place—you’re beside a zealous Ferrari engineer when it happens, walking along the pit lane. Compared to your stoic smile, their reaction looks like the pinnacle of human emotion. Your turmoil is all inward, a melting pot of emotion for the driver. Would it be weird, you think, to feel proud? To feel happy? When things have ended?

Much later, when you’re wrestling for comfort in the throng of cheering Ferrari engineers, you squint to find Carlos on the podium.

You’re aware there are photographers everywhere, with high-def cameras that rival your natural eyesight, even, but still you tug your phone out and snap a few shitty zoomed-in pictures of him in second place, smiling and sprayed with champagne. You think of the profile, of the words you’ll use to capture this moment, the season kickoff. But most of all you think of the way his eyes seem to search for something specific in the mass of people, or the way you wished for them to meet yours.

—

Sainz, a self-proclaimed music lover, loads a pre-race playlist that changes every few locations. He names some of his favorite artists and songs as sources of motivation.

You climb into the passenger seat of his Golf when you finally find him, after a half hour of asking around everywhere. First, it was “in the motorhome,” then it was “in a meeting,” then it was “hanging out with Charles”—none of which ended up being true, anyway. He doesn’t question your presence (he hasn’t much, lately), just lets his eyes wander over to you briefly before you begin asking questions.

“Favorite song?” You get straight to it, stressed over the article. Jonathan has been on your ass about missing a deadline and causing the third world war in the process, or something or other. You sigh when you settle into the seat.

“Not even a hello or a buenas noches,” he says as he pulls out of the parking lot to drive the both of you to your hotel. “What’s this for?”

“You already know,” you say, humming as you sift through notes. “Listen. You did an interview before with Toro Rosso, right? Where you said your favorite artists were Muse, Kings of Leon, and The Killers. Right?”

“What the—you are a serious stalker.” He laughs out loud, eyes still on the road ahead.

“It’s kind of my job, Carlos,” you say, smiling and gritting your teeth. “Just answer.”

“Sí, sí. Yeah, I like that genre. I like rock, I guess… rock, indie, 80’s. You’d be surprised how little of an effect music has on my pre-race routine, though, even if I have a playlist.”

“Tell me more,” you muse. Your laziness to retrieve your laptop results in you scribbling soundbites onto your notebook instead.

“Music is an escape for me, you know? I like it a lot. So as long as something gets me going, I’m good with it. It doesn’t have to be by a favorite artist, or a famous one, or a Spanish one. Though I have been listening to Shakira a lot lately.” Obsessively listens to Shakira, you write. “It’s just release. Lately, I’ve been listening to the same few ones on loop.”

“Care to share?” Music = release. Same songs looped.

He presses something onto the centre console, and music flows throughout the car right after. “This.”

Baby I’m Yours by Arctic Monkeys, you write, and then, all at once, you slowly realize exactly what you’re writing. You stare at the scrawled-on words, the song bleeding into your ears and saturating your brain. You’ve always thought of this song with a weird feeling, one in between nostalgia and hurt, and now it’s on full blast. In Carlos’ Golf, no less, which happened to be the venue for many of your listening parties back then.

Back then—when nobody knew much of this song and it hadn’t yet become an indie anthem. It was just another cover by your favorite band in 2015. It became your song, the song for kitchen dances, the song for long car rides, the song for the red lights, the song for the morning routine.

But now it’s just a song.

“Carlos,” you say. It’s supposed to sound strict, firm, even a little angry. But you’re so affected, it leaves you quietly instead, weakly almost. “Come on.”

“Do you remember when you first showed me this song?” He responds instead, the volume still loud. You allow yourself to smile a little, leaning your head back and watching the cityscape of Bahrain whir past. In a foreign city, you think, you feel more at home than ever.

“Yeah,” you profess. “On my iPhone—what was it then? iPhone 5, or something.” You both laugh a little. The dam has broken, it seems, and topics of your past relationship seem to now be open to discussion. But it doesn’t feel alien, or weird, or uncomfortable. Carlos laughs, makes fun of your old lockscreen, and all is well.

A lot of memories have unwittingly attached themselves to this song. It’s the kind of song where, even in the opening notes, you’re already stunned with the myriad of them. There are the obvious ones: first finding the song, first dancing to it. But it trickles down into the smaller, more niche ones.

The time you got a busker in London to perform it for you both, and danced like idiots at ten-thirty in the evening, while some onlooking geriatric couple watched with mild entertainment. The time you got him a vinyl record of this EP, and left it in the cab before you were supposed to give it to him, leading to you crying on his sofa while he cuddled you and fed reassurance into your ear. The time he attempted to learn the chords to it and broke the string of your decorative guitar.

Like always, Carlos drives one-handed. He’s usually responsible, but if he’s cruising, or driving at a relatively slow pace, he likes to lean back and use his left. His right lays, unmanned, on the centre console of the Golf. You don’t notice it’s there until you finish writing a sample line on your notebook and you lower your left hand absentmindedly, brushing a finger against his in the process.

Your instinct is to jerk away, but Carlos is calm, humming to the song and reading road signs. So you let it rest there, in part to show yourself you’re capable of relaxing, but—and it feels like a heavy thing to admit—also because you like the feeling.

So your hands are there, just shy of each other, barely touching. His pointer finger twitches, almost like he’s trying to hold it back from inviting yours to wrap around it. You let yours brush over them a little bit, pulling away. Then he coughs, and lifts his hand to make a right turn, so you resume writing, eyes downcast.

—

You’d spent the Saudi weekend less with Lewis (in a bid to follow his advice) and socialized a bit more with Lando and Charles, who both proved to be pleasant company. They played table tennis with you and even shared a good chunk of grid gossip.

“Pierre and Yuki have soooo done it,” whispers Charles, scandalized, sipping a G&T from a decorative polka dot straw.

“Shut up!” You clap a hand over your mouth. “I mean, I had my suspicions. But really? They’ve shagged?”

“Oh.” He pauses dumbly, scratching his head. “I meant they’ve done marijuana.”

“Damn it, Charles,” bemoans Lando. “You’re a sodding buzzkill. We’ve all done weed, this is not news. The gay sex would’ve been.”

The afternoon progresses into night, and you seem to be on a roll with the sports component—Carlos gets to P3 in Saudi Arabia. You travel to his motorhome room after the debrief, where you hope he’ll be, and find him packing shit up inside.

“Good work out there,” you say, and when he looks up he finds himself meeting your eyes in the mirror. He fumbles with the zip of his suit and you walk a little closer.

He huffs out a polite thanks, tugging on the zipper harder. The cloth’s eaten it, a problem that’s been plaguing his race suits as of late—a problem, according to his engineer, easily solvable if he’d just be more patient with tugging it downward to loosen. A problem you’re familiar with as well, from his Toro Rosso days of ranting to you about zippers and sewing.

You lean against the wall and maintain safe distance. “I’m going to ask you about the race later.”

“Alright. What specifically?” He begins the mental Spanish-English translation in advance.

“Whatever you can give,” you reply, nonchalant. “Maybe more on the feeling while racing. The different perspectives of P3? Sort of like—yeah, you’re on the podium, but it’s not P1.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” he laughs a little, a bit embarrassed he hasn’t fully undone the zipper yet. “Um, sure. I’ll meet you outside afterward.”

“Thanks. And—” You stop yourself in your tracks, still facing him in the mirror. His eyes find yours again, eyebrows raised from the unfinished sentence. “—Be patient with the zip.”

He chuckles, memories surfacing like bubbling lava. “Right. Bueno.” He turns and throws his hands up, looks like he’s surrendering almost. “Help me out?”

You’re incredulous—it’s a highly compromising position.

But he’s not really smiling, and he seems to be seriously asking you to please help zip him up, so you nod. Nod once then twice, walking slowly over to him and placing two fingers on the zipper. You don’t notice how shaky your grip is until you see the way your hand trembles.

Slowly, you tug. Upward, then downward, then upward again, to loosen the stubborn thing. Your eyes move until they meet his, and you realize how close together you are. From here you can see the faint pink indents on his face from the balaclava, and you wonder almost how it’d feel to stroke over it with your thumb. It twitches on the zip and you remember to yank it again.

“Just give me a second,” you say, but you’re not even paying attention to the zipper.

Just him. Just the proximity. The thoughts of what if—what if you leaned closer, right now? Closed the gap, shut your eyes, let your finger trace over the shape left behind by his balaclava, zip forgotten?

“Take your time.” His voice is deep, gentle.

His eyes pierce yours, the tension growing in between you until you can barely breathe.

You pull and finally, it gives, unzipping the whole way. You blink, breaking eye contact and stepping backwards so fast you almost trip. “I’ll be outside.” The door is shut, the noise damning behind you as you finish an entire cup of water in what you genuinely think to be record time.

—

“Fine. Fifty euros.”

“Fifty?! Cheap trick. Make it two hundred.”

“If you’re in the hundred territory, might as well make it five hundred. Turn this into a serious thing.”

“Deal.” The Brit and the Monegasque clap their hands together in a firm handshake. “Let’s talk terms.”

Charles recites his end of the bet, as clearly as he did when this was first wagered just ten minutes ago. “She and Carlos will start dating before the article is even published.”

“They’re exes, innit?” Lando laughs. “You’re wrong, Charl-ito. They will never date, ever again. Exes don’t date.”

“Unless they’re soulmates,” he reasons.

“Psh, what do you know about soulmates?” The younger raises a condescending brow. “You dated a girl and then her best friend.”

“Back off,” insists Charles petulantly, watching Lando messily write down the evidence of their wager on a small slip of paper. For proof, he’d said, before slipping it into the back of his opaque phone case. He waves it around. “We shall see.”

“You will definitely be paying me up,” Charles says proudly. “Just you wait.”

—

“Care to listen to me?” You hoist yourself onto the stool of this hotel bar, ordering yourself a martini.

“Always,” says Lewis, immediately facing you. He’s always been one of the kindest, most genuine people in your life. He’s known you forever, and he’s the only person here who really knows the extent of your history with Carlos, all the layers, all the fights, all of it.

You sigh and lean against the backrest, deflated. “Carlos and I… I don’t know if this is going to work.”

“The article?”

“Being with him.” You pause to reword it. “Around him.”

“I see. Hasn’t it been, what—four years now, though?”

“Yeah, but…” But why does it feel like you both want those four years gone? The car ride with the song, the eye contact, zip situation after Saudi. You lick over your lips and sit a little straighter.

“Lew, it’s just—and you should know this—when you break up with someone, you’re forced to unlearn all the things you knew about them.” You sigh. “All the… just all of it. The habits, the quirks, the favorite words, the way they like their toast and eggs. And if you can’t, then fine, it’s still okay, because why would you ever need it again? But I haven’t forgotten anything, and now he’s back in my life.”

Lewis stares, with eyes that convey solemnity and a little sadness. He seems to understand, watching you intently, the way your eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

“So now I see him, and it feels like he’s like”—you inhale—“this sounds… bad, but like… I’m… like he’s a lover, kind of. In disguise, a little bit. I don’t know. Like, I have to pretend I know nothing about him, like every little fun fact is a new thing for the profile… but I know everything.” And what a heavy burden it is.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“No, don’t be. I’m pretty sure this is all one-sided.” You take a long sip. “That’s the price to pay for ending on bad terms, I suppose.”

“Just think,” he muses out loud. “When this is all over and you’re accepting your Pulitzer, you won’t even be thinking of him one bit.”

“Right,” you say. Carlos, Carlos, Carlos. He’s the only thing on your mind. “Right.”

You find a working title for the article later. Carlos Sainz, it reads on your Word document. On racing, gracious defeat, and life’s driving forces.

—

Like every other sport, Formula One drivers have their share of bad competition days. Sainz recalls a time his car failed and caused him to DNF—racing vernacular for “Did Not Finish,” a damning phrase for any driver on the grid.

A double kill vibrates through Carlos.

It’s a consecutive hit that’s both professional and personal, and greatly affects the momentum of the profile you’re busy writing. In Australia he’d been reserved, eyes stormy, walking alone but not angry. He’d congratulated Charles and everything, even offered a few words for the article. The last you saw of him was with a beer, brows knitted together.

Tonight you’re in Imola. He’d been okay after the race, the usual silence that comes with a bad result.

No hard feelings, he’d said. This is the business. Hugged Danny, excused himself; nobody said anything. It’s a normal response to a shit day. You spend the post-race buzz with Lewis and Sebastian this time, but you manage to congratulate Lando on the podium finish when you catch sight of him.

“Maaate!” He cries gleefully when he sees you. “Where’s the muppet?”

“Mourning,” you drone. “Reasonably so, I guess.”

“Tough crowd,” he says, kissing his teeth. “But, yeah. Hey—shots on me!”

“Tempting offer.” You eye the bunch of tequila on the table. “But I think I’ll retire early. I need to send a draft pretty early tonight.”

“All good. Have fun being a loser,” he says, watching you leave.

The hotel, it turns out, is not nearly as fun as the party. Which is common sense.

You spend time writing and rewriting a few paragraphs of the article, stuck on the title of it and honestly wishing you were with Cuervo and vodka right now. You suppose you don’t need one just yet—they usually come to you late, anyways. Jonathan sends you three follow-up emails regarding a draft, so you send him the latest version and read over the file, reciting favorite lines under your breath.

In the middle of reading on the Bahrain P2 and a little segment on Sainz’s favorite Ferrari moments, somebody knocks on your door.

It’s a surprise—you don’t spend much time with people on the paddock, and only few of them know your room number, which leads you to narrow down the person on the other side to a select group. There’s Lewis, most likely of them all. Charles, who you’d grown much closer to as of late. Level with him is Lando. Then maybe, just maybe, Sebastian, to offer late night advice.

It could’ve been any of them, but it’s not. It’s somebody else.

“I’m sorry.” His voice threatens to break. “I didn’t know who else I could talk to.”

“Carlos?” You blink.

You usher him in after, and you hope his mind is anxious enough that it doesn’t pay much attention to your hideous pajama situation (old hoodie, souvenir L.A. pajama pants). You end up on your balcony, both of you facing the frigid nighttime air. It freezes your cheeks, casts your hair backwards. Your eyes slide to his stoic figure, the way even his hair is blown back by the wind.

He’s quiet, but more relaxed, less stiff. “Sorry, again.”

“S’okay.”

You duck back inside and return with two cigarettes and a lighter. “Wanna?”

“Awful habit.” But he accepts it anyway, sticking it in between his lips. It bobs as he speaks, still unlit. “I need this, though.”

“I don’t do it regularly,” you defend, pressing the flame to the cig. He exhales. “Some situations call for them.”

“This definitely does. Bit of a slap to the face, you know?” You nod. “I’m sorry.” The apology carries more weight than it should, and you know why.

Like it’s the most difficult thing in the world, you breathe a few times before you respond in a hushed tone. With your words comes a huff of smoke. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. You gave it your all, took a risk, it went to shit. But you gave it your all is what matters in the end. You put heart into it, which is something not everyone does in sports these days.”

“I feel… complimented.” You both laugh at the lack of good phrasing, so he rewords it. “I meant, I feel, how you say? Touched. It means a lot to be praised by you.”

“Does it?” Smoke again, another whiff of it.

“They only ever want to praise the podium finish, the P1, the title holder.” He lets the words fizzle. “But here you are praising a driver who finished like shit twice in a row. More people should be like you, paying thanks to the underdogs.”

It’s not the underdogs, you think. It’s just because of you.

“More like the shit drivers,” you say instead, in a low rumbling voice. He laughs, calls you stupid in Spanish, and it’s a dead issue.

Later, before he leaves, when the room’s much darker and less bathed in moonlight, you whisper goodbye to him through a small crack in the door. He smiles a bit, and you catch it even with the lack of lighting.

“Thank you.” He says. He means it. You catch his perfume when the door swings closed. It smells like wood.

—

Sainz has off-grid hobbies, one of the most notable of which is cooking. He claims to have a good hold over the kitchen, and cooks several of his favorite dishes on the rare weekend off. Blah blaaahhhh, cooks well. Usually wears funky apron. WRITE THIS PROFILE ALREADY STOP EATING PASTA YOU DIPSHIT

Lando had invited you all to an Airbnb owned by a friend in Umbria, a two-ish hour drive from Imola.

With two free days, you’d followed a small group of drivers—Carlos included—to soak in the rest of Tuscany. Charles and Lando, however, left as soon as you arrived, to check out the last few hours of the farmer’s market. Alex had met Lily at the Eurostar station and they’d gone biking together.

This effectively left you and Carlos alone, which was not an unusual occurrence, but still proved to be a bit tense. With the kitchen free and the fridge stocked, Carlos suggested he cook for you both. Despite your best efforts, you ended up at the island writing and taste testing sauce, chicken, anything he slid over to you on a saucer with a tiny fork beside it.

“You’re going to give me cholesterol problems,” you quip. “This pasta is too good.”

“Cacio e pepe.” He twirls some onto a fork, straight off the pan, and shoves it into his mouth, a low mmmm leaving him once he gets to chewing. You laugh, a stifled sound through the noodles in your mouth at the exaggerated show of delicious food.

“Any favourite food you think is notable enough for the profile?” You type again, backspacing your harsh reminder. Makes a mean cacio e pepe (look up translation later). “Like, food you cook yourself, or even other recipes.”

“This,” he says, pointing to the pan. “This is fuel.”

“Amen.” Loves cacio e pepe.

“And it’s good with chicken.” He points to the oven, where he’s been baking chicken for a bit now. The kitchen smells of it, of the rosemary and oregano and pepper. “Oh, and put that I cook with music on. Let me connect my phone.”

Cooks w/ music. “Why do you need to mention that?”

“Ladies love a chef,” he says simply, letting a familiar song thrum into the woody kitchen. “And I love ladies.”

“Okay, slag.”

“Fuck off!” He begins shimmying all across the kitchen island, cranking open the oven mid-dance to check on the chicken, then continuing to clean the counter. Still he dances, and not very well, either—he always claimed singing was a stronger suit of his, so you allow the fool to be a fool.

Back when you two were still together, Carlos already had a preference for 70’s disco in the kitchen, saying it brought out the dancer in him. Nothing seems to have changed in that department, and you smile with mild embarrassment and amusement watching him dance across the kitchen, using the kitchen towel as a prop and swinging it around.

Loves dancing to The Communards while baking rosemary chicken. “Let me taste the chicken, by the way,” you ask when you finish typing, hopping off the stool and walking to the oven. He continues dancing, hips cocking poorly from side to side to the old song. He retrieves a fork and cuts a piece of chicken, reviewing its doneness briefly before turning with a piece of it stabbed into the utensil.

“Open,” he says. “It’s hot.”

It’s too natural, the way he slowly feeds you the piece. You don’t even realize it until you’re chewing, and by then he’s back to dancing to the song that’s now reaching its end. “It, uh,” you stutter, a bit nervous, “it’s really good.”

“Of course, I cooked it,” he says smugly. You grab a lime from the fruit bowl and throw it, hitting him in the back of the head in retaliation. He turns slowly, still dancing, lips stretched into a challenging smile.

Lando and Charles walk in ten minutes later to Carlos and you, yelping and chasing each other around the wide counter, chicken left atop it and forgotten in favor of the tag game. Charles, toting bags of fruit, faces Lando with a victorious expression. Pay up, he mouths, cocky.

—

It’s much too hot in Miami, but you appreciate the heavy beach culture and the even heavier nightlife.

You work on the profile until your fingers hurt from typing, sending Jonathan another draft for approval. Charles joins you on a cocktail taste test at the open bar until your tongue tastes like gin and your head is a bit spinny. Both Ferrari drivers end up having a shitload of pictures of you sleeping on the leather couch, enough that Lewis ends up getting ahold of them, too.

It’s a 2-3, in the end, with P1 going to Max. The latter throws a party at some place along the beach strip, invites you in one of the only conversations you’ve ever shared with the guy so far. He seems a bit unfriendly, but when you walk into the exclusive club later that night, you find him doing a handstand in front of a beer keg, so that’s that.

FUCK YEAH! Max hollers, following it with a howl so happy it reverbrates in your ears. It’s crowded everywhere, and you’re pretty sure Lewis isn’t here, so you spend a few minutes roaming around, getting a good grip on the vibe of the place.

It’s Carlos who finds you in the middle of the dance floor, nursing yet another drink to aid your lack of social skills. His voice is rough in your ear and it smells like a Jägerbomb, a low laugh escaping it right after. “All alone?”

“Unfortunately,” you tease, turning to face him. “Man, I thought guys were confident in Florida.”

“Cuidado,” he warns, smiling. “This dress is pretty difficult to resist.” His tongue’s definitely been loosened by shots, his eyes half-lidded and looking you up and down. You laugh, raising one eyebrow at the sudden flirty tone, but welcoming it nonetheless, depositing your now empty glass on whatever cocktail table is nearest. Who said you were sober?

“Nobody’s inviting me, so why don’t you and I dance instead?”

He licks over his lips—he never seems to keep his tongue in his mouth—and winks, nodding.

And here in Miami, through the strobing purple lights of this ridiculously expensive club, you wrap your arms around his neck and dance to whatever Calvin Harris song is blaring through the bass.

His hands are all over you, loosening your stiff stature; they wring into the fabric of your obejctively too-short dress, raking it up a bit. You lean back and he leans forward, following you, drawn into you, your noses pressed together and your eyes meeting. Your breath heightens, holds, your fingers moving to his long hair and holding him close to you.

His hand moves over your ass, pulling you in. He smiles, pokes his tongue into his cheek, and you giggle, almost causing your lips to touch. Your mind is haywire from the alcohol, but you can’t really bring yourself to care. The warmth grows between you, closer and closer, the dynamic easy—

And then someone spills their drink on both your feet, causing you two to break apart and laugh off the tension instead. You’d almost fucking kissed. However you’re going to tell this to Lewis, you don’t even know.

And you’re not entirely sure, you think as you rinse whiskey and bile off the tip of your heel in the bathroom, how it sounds like to write Sainz and I almost made out in public on the GQ profile.

—

Nick emails you directly to ask if Carlos can do some test shoots in Miami for the profile cover.

You convince him to agree, even if he thinks he’s no good in front of a camera, and you two show up to a mostly empty warehouse studio. There’s a white backdrop situated toward the back and a tiny-sized crew of people working.

“Hi. Is this for GQ?” You ask the photographer. “Test shots?”

“Oh, hi.” He stands and shakes your hand. “I’m Luke. Big fan of your work, by the way. So the concept today is just plain shirt, long hair, gorgeous face, white background. Good?”

“Bueno,” Carlos says behind you with a smile.

You sit on a chair a few metres behind Luke while he works, watching the shots pop up on his screen every time the shutter clicks. As it turns out, Carlos is a brilliant liar, because every single shot—even one where he was fixing a wrinkle in his tee—looks perfectly usable anyway. Sainz is a natural stunner, you jot down.

It’s a bit awkward to admit you can’t help but stare, but his face is undeniably handsome, especially when he’s in front of the camera. Thankfully for you, and heavily owed to Carlos’ natural skill for modeling, the ordeal’s over in less than thirty minutes, and you begin preparing your stuff to leave.

“Oh, crap. I forgot I had to do a test bridal shoot for R&B’s wedding anniversary in September.” Luke sighs, clicking through the photos rapidly.

“R&B. The… music genre?” You ask, confused and toting your bag on your shoulder.

“Silly! Ryan and Blake. As in, Reynolds and Lively? They plan their photoshoots way in advance, and they always need sample poses to choose from.”

“Oh, I get it.” You smile. “Well, we’re sorry for keeping you.”

“You”—he stops both you and Carlos, pacing in front—“you two wouldn’t… mind, would you?”

“Mind… mind what, now?” Your eyes flit toward Carlos’ and you both laugh nervously.

“Being my mannequins for the bridal shoot!”

Both of you balk, making up all kinds of excuses, but as fate would have it, Luke is very convincing and you’re against the backdrop after five minutes of persuasion. He directs you into different silly, quirky poses—a piggyback ride both ways, smiling goofily, the like. Carlos can’t stop laughing every time the shutter clicks, at how silly the two of you must look.

Luke plays some music to get you both looser, and directs you into a few mocking dance poses. Then he directs you in a partners-in-crime pose, which you love the outcome of. Okay, last one, newlyweds, he says. Carlos, why don’t you get behind her and wrap your arms around her waist?

You clear your throat, letting him do so anyway, his hands big around your frame. “Careful,” you whisper when he’s right behind you. Luke raises an inquisitive brow behind the camera, watches your chemistry unfold through the viewfinder. Your breath hitches a little, but you swallow the nerves.

Look into his eyes, Luke says. So you do, meet them, force yourself not to look away for once and just stare. It’d been easy to do this, because you could just as easily break the stare, but now it’s different. Your eyes flutter, and his stay unblinking.

It’s like that for a minute, just staring, like all the things you want to say can communicate themselves through eye contact alone. Another twenty seconds pass before Luke coughs, breaking the moment.

“I said we were good like a minute ago, guys,” he says knowingly, packing up with a smirk.

—

Lewis advises you to avert your pent up “romantic” tension to another boy. It’s difficult, but you challenge yourself to find somebody anyway, maybe outside of racing, to use your extra paddock pass (courtesy of Mattia) on. The guys in your DMs are all skeevy, or you’ve unfortunately ghosted them, so they’re all out.

After some searching, you end up using your extra pass in Spain, and for James, a Sky Sports sound editor for streamed football games. He’s British and a huge Tottenham fan who you met during drinks with a few reporters the month prior. Not bad, but not necessarily your type; at this point, though, you’ll take anybody above the bare minimum. And James is above it—a gentleman, kind, funny in the quaint English way. He could be taller, but you find him charming enough.

Noise flows through the paddock, chatter and cheering and interviews. “This is so cool,” says James animatedly. “I feel like a regular Schumacher.”

You give a phony, flirty laugh and enter the Ferrari hospitality, raking your hair backwards. “I’m going to get something real quick, okay? Stay put…” You point at a lone chair. “Over there.”

“Alright,” he says with a smile. “I can’t roam arou—?”

“No!” You say, a tad too quickly. “I mean, sorry. Don’t. Just. I’ll be back really quickly.” Before you can even retrieve your phone charger from Carlos’ room, the owner himself walks into the area, squirting water into his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows together when he sees you standing beside a stranger.

“Hi,” Carlos says, a bit bluntly. His eyes are darting everywhere but at you, lingering a bit too distastefully on James’ timid figure. “You are?”

“Her date,” James says with a nervous laugh, pointing a thumb towards you. “James. Huge fan of you. Of the team.”

“Sure.” He offers a tight-lipped smile, hand meeting James’ outstretched one to form a polite handshake.

It’s awkward, is what it is—awkward and stuffy and Carlos won’t look at you. He clenches his jaw a little, smiles, looks up and down. “You, uh… how long have you guys been…?” He waves a finger in between the both of you, almost fearfully, like the answer will cast him into ashes.

“Not—not long, really.” James laughs again to relieve the tension that seeps across the room. “A month?”

“A month?” Carlos repeats, arms crossed.

“We haven’t even, like, had se—”

“That’s—” you cut in, sharp and apologetic, “wow, that’s plenty. Thanks, James. Could you get us some drinks? I’ll have a beer.”

“It’s one-thirty,” he says.

“Yeah,” you respond. “A beer.”

He leaves you both alone sheepishly, and you turn to face Carlos’ intense expression.

His arms are crossed and he rakes a hand through his hair—but he doesn’t say anything. Why should he, anyway, he thinks to himself, staring at you. You wore your hair in a ponytail today, so he sees more of your pretty face. Oh and so does James. Pendejo.

“Are you okay?” You ask, even if he knows you know what’s up.

“Totally. Muy bien.” He shrugs, drinking water again. “Should I not be?”

“Never said that,” you say, raising both eyebrows.

“Okay. Well enjoy the beer.”

So he’s jealous. Fine, sue him. He’s jealous of the British gangly guy you thought was good enough to invite onto the paddock. Barely even made a lasting impression. He gives a small, phony smile and walks back, meeting Charles along the way.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, mate,” says the younger, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Maybe the ghost of James?” He flicks the guy’s forehead, laughing.

P4, it ends up being. Not nearly good enough. But James is the first to say, “Congratulations, hombre!” in a God awful accent, so it becomes ten times worse, really.

—

“Alright guys, Carlos and I here today with some members of our team, and we’re going to play some fun trivia games.” Charles’ eyes read from the signboard behind the camera, his amusement wholly unscripted as he looks from you to Andrea and back to Carlos.

You honestly don’t know why you agreed to this. It might have been Lewis’ gentle persuasion or your boss’ overenthusiastic persistent voice, or the sleepiness that’s been wearing you down and boggling your mind lately, or—and it’s probably this—the fact that James ghosted you after Spain, because you “clearly have a thing with Sainz, and I don’t wanna be a homewrecker.” Whatever it is, you’re apparently a guest on the C² Challenge segment.

Today is a trivia game against Charles and Andrea, and you’ve all been given a general guide to what the questions entail—math, music, general knowledge, and one scripted Ferrari question at the end. The structure is fairly basic; each team member gets to answer one at a time, both contributing to overall points—and no coaching allowed, for some odd reason.

Charles is a little shit, so he’s made an off-camera bet: loser should treat winner to a round of shots at the next afterparty/get-together. And—who are you kidding, really—Carlos is also a little shit, so he’s game for the bet and has fired you both up to win, spouting Ferrari trivia in your ear should it come up.

“I got it,” you say snappily when he hasn’t stopped pestering you for five straight minutes. “I got it.”

“Oh, did you got it?” He asks sassily. “Okay. When did Ferra—”

“We’re starting in three,” says the cameraman in Spanish, Italian, then finally English.

He holds three fingers up and you hug your tiny dry erase board closer to your torso, readying your camera smile. The video—and the game—start off well enough, a quickfire competition developing between the two teams that infects you and Andrea quickly.

“Stay calm and collected,” Carlos proclaims, lips stretched into a proud smile. “Our team motto.” He elbows your side and you roll your eyes with a smile, teasing.

“I think it’s, ah, always—always cheat, mate,” Charles protests, pointing an accusatory finger.

“You are soooo—tch, I propose we kick Charles for poor sportsmanship,” retorts your teammate, laughing. The force of his laughter shakes the stool he sits on and you bite back a smile, remaining relatively quiet like you’ve been since the start of the video.

The remainder of the game passes with Carlos and Charles neck and neck, you and Andrea working overtime to make sure your teams don’t lose the bet. Eventually it boils down to one question, which Carlos is in charge of answering. Behind the camera, the producer raises a signboard and reads it out: We all know C². What is eight squared?

What a relief, you think. They’ve basically handed the win to you and Carlos on a silver platter. You wait, bumbling in your seat and raising an L sign toward Charles, who sticks his tongue out in response. Excitedly, you watch Carlos cheer for himself and finish writing, turning the board inch by inch until you all see the answer he has written on it.

Everyone stares. Then: “Team Charles wins!”

“Que?!” Carlos blinks, scandalized and a bit amused. He stares at the question then at his answer then, as if dreading the laser eyes, at you. Your eyes narrow, disappointed.

“Carlos. What is eight squared?”

“Eight squared. Eight, and you take another eight, and—it’s right here.” A tan finger points firmly at the number written messily, square in the middle of the whiteboard.

“Eres un tonto,” you quip, remembering bits of teasing you’d used on him years before. “Carlos, it’s 64. Eight times eight, not eight times two.”

“Ay, puta—” He shuts his eyes and laughs. “Lo siento! Sorry, sorry. Sorry! I cost us the win.”

Across you, Charles is coaxing a much more begrudged Andrea into a childish victory dance, pulling his arms up and down to convey the joy of winning. You sigh exasperatedly, but smile . For what it was worth, you had a great game anyway. The noise grows, and you watch the producers pack up, the cameraman parting from the camera for a moment to converse with one of them.

Left alone with you for a bit, Carlos lets his voice slip into a quieter one. “Sorry again. I forgot.”

“Forgot?” Your brows furrow, confused. “What?”

“That, you know”—he points at the lonely 16 on the whiteboard he holds—“it’s supposed to be 64.”

“Oh.” You laugh, a light sound. “Whaaat?! It’s not that deep, Carlos. Seriously, don’t worry about it. It was all fun.”

“Well, I’m glad you had fun,” he says softly, smiling.

“Yeah, me too,” you say, unable to hide your smile. You stay like that for a bit, something blooming in the pit of your stomach you can’t—and refuse to—name.

—

You get two days off, and Charles had suggested you all go to Paris before you go to Cannes, where the Ferrari team is apparently expected for a meeting before Monaco. You’re the one who’d said yes first, even if Carlos seemed to hesitate; he had asked why, to which you responded you’d never been before.

You’d read about it, watched about it, and like every other human on Earth, seen pictures of it. But you’d never been to Paris; work placed you mostly in London, sometimes South America, other times Italy. But Paris was never a destination. So Carlos allowed the greenlight and you flew, with Lando, Pierre, and Esteban tagging along for shits and giggles.

“I’ve waited my whole life for my Eiffel Tower moment,” you say, not even trying to hide your wonder. Carlos got the best room for himself, but invited you in, for the view. He doesn’t tell you he went through hell and back to get precisely this room, so you could peek inside and see the tower.

“Well, you’re here now.” He wedges the hotel balcony door open and walks toward the railing. You follow suit, arms crossed over your torso, eyes stuck on the view. “How is it?”

“It’s as beautiful as I imagined it to be,” you confess honestly, eyes still stuck on the tower, the way it stands alone and glittering against the black of night. Cliché as it is, you feel like you’ve checked one huge box off your bucket list, staring at the landmark like it’s going to evaporate into thin air.

Beside you, Carlos hums in agreement, but his gaze is stuck on something else. “I know.”

“Oh, do you?” You laugh. “Are you in the business of admiring beautiful things?” You tease, looking up at the stars.

Sensing his eyes on you, you slowly avert your gaze until your eyes meet. The light reflects in his eyes, and they meet yours blindingly, beautiful, luring you closer. The joking tone of your words is caught in your throat, desert dry, your lips parted to spout words you’ve now forgotten, lost track of.

Your silhouettes dance against the lights of the city below, two figures admiring the other. His eyes flicker down to your lips, linger there a second too long. You stumble closer, your foot touching his. “…Paris.” The words struggle to leave but they do, quietly, an admission of guilt. “It’s always reminded me of you.”

“Not Spain?” He asks, leveling your volume. You’re closer, so close you feel his breath fan soft against your own face. His voice is deep, accented so thickly, the way it is when he talks with you because he falls into a familiar rhythm of knowing you’ll decipher whatever he has to say.

You giggle, a low, breathy sound. A barely there shake of your head. “I… love it so much, is why. Always have.”

Had there been a pedestrian across the street who looked just a few floors upward, they would’ve found the both of you there, smiling foolishly, blanketed by the night sparkles of the Eiffel Tower and the rest of the city. They would’ve seen the way Carlos leaned in, his eyes on yours and then on your lips, the way you nodded in silent, warm invitation. Come closer, you seem to say. Don’t stray any further.

A lock of your hair touches his jaw, from how close you two are. So close. Everything smells like him, like the musky woody perfume he wears, the detergent he uses. All of that, and everything underneath. The scent of him. Just him.

You hold your breath when you both lean in, eyes fluttering shut and waiting, waiting for his lips to meet yours.

The door shakes with several knocks, Lando’s voice seeping from the other side of it. “Mate, we’re gonna be late for dinner!” He says boredly, letting his fist collide with it a few more times for good measure.

Instantly, you and Carlos separate, both of you clearing your throats, rushed flimsy excuses escaping your mouths at the same time. You’re warm all over, the excitement, the nerves, tapering off into nothing as you walk back inside the room, busying yourselves with anything. Oh, I need to check if Jonathan’s emailed me. Oh, let me go answer the door.

Lando is waiting, expectant, on the other side when Carlos pries the door open. “Mate! Dinner! I texted you like twenty minutes ago and y—oh.” He spots you sitting at one of the lounge chairs in the room, and immediately his brows raise. “Hey, dude. You’re here?”

“Yeah, to, uh—to get Carlos to OK some edits,” you say with a smile, hoping your nonchalance isn’t too shaky. “I needed to get a draft in by three hours ago, so.”

“Oh. Right, obviously.” His eyes narrow a little, but he doesn’t relax much, gaze suspicious and a bit beguiled. “Well, if you’re not busy, we’re having dinner?”

“I’m good,” you decline, a touch too quickly. “It’s getting late.”

“Alright, well it was a courtesy invite, you dipshit,” Lando teases, and everything feels a bit more normal. You just flip him off, and Carlos retrieves his coat, eyes still not meeting yours when you all exit at the same time. Lando makes up for the hole in the conversation, droning on and on about the restaurant they’re going to, and how good it seems to be.

The elevator ride is equally charged, and you spend it humming and interjecting Lando’s words to come across as unfazed, even if you’re so totally not. Once you’re alone you finally let big exhales leave you. You don’t know if it’s from the anxiety of almost being caught, or the anxiety from the kiss unfinished.

—

LOVE the latest draft, Nick & I both. Could we get a deeper angle? Something re: regrets? Would really tie it together! Best, J

“Huh. Do you have any regrets?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from the short email. Next to you, Carlos nods his head slowly. You’re on the beach in Cannes, taking time off before the meeting and people-watching. Charles had joined you for a good half hour before leaving to sleep in the hotel instead, leaving you two to bask in the now setting sun.

“Everyone does, no?” He stretches a bit. The topic is tense. “But yes, I have some specific ones.”

“Like?” You ask weakly.

“I was stupid when I was younger. More immature, more forgetful. You grow older and you think of all the things you could’ve done right, years too late. There’s a proverb I heard once that goes—camarón que se duerme se lo lleva la corriente. It means to—to stay alert. Don’t let things pass you by.”

“And do you think you followed that advice?”

His eyes meet yours. “Do you?”

—

It’s quiet when Carlos walks inside your flat, and already his heart begins to drain, filling with guilt.

He steps over the creaky floorboard, notices your car keys on the table, your jacket haphazardly slung over the rack, your Chanel bag half-open on the dinner table beside an empty wine glass and a sweaty bottle of Cheval Blanc. The bedroom door’s half-open, light bleeding into the dark rest-of-the-place, and when he gently pushes the door to get in, the sight he faces is crushing.

“…Estás bien?”

You face the window, your back to him, in a beautiful, beautiful black dress. Your hair had been up, but it’s unpinned now, falling in loose, messy waves. You hiccup, and then tense. Feigning nonchalance, you croak out, “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” he says honestly. “I didn’t know the thing was earlier.” His eyes hover to the glass award on the bed, one you’d hoped he would watch you receive tonight.

“I said I’m fine,” you say. “Just”—you sniffle—“it’s fine, Carlos, just get out.”

You’re standoffish, and cold, but Carlos knows you’re incredibly hurt. In an attempt to try and coerce a conversation, he stays. “Let’s have dinner tomorrow,” he suggests in a low voice. “On me. Right? To celebrate.”

“Leave me alone, Carlos.”

“I wanted to go,” he insists. “I had a meeting that ended late, and—”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” you assert, turning. You’ve clearly been crying hard, your face flushed and shiny, a few rogue tears still on your chin. “Just go.”

“I know how much this mattered to you.”

“And yet you didn’t go.” You sniff, wiping fruitlessly at your face. “Carlos, just…” Your voice sounds thin, heartbroken, worn with pain and real tiredness.

“Cut me some slack.” Carlos argues softly.

“No, I just… I don’t even know how things got to this point, Carlos. We used to be so much happier. But now, it’s like I have to demand for your time like everyone else does. Now, I—I cook, I plan dinner, I put my own career on the back burner so I can spend more time with you even if I’ve gotten calls, promotions that you don’t even ever… ever ask about, just everything. I don’t think… I don’t feel you love me that way. Care for me, that way. You’ve never shown it, not lately especially.”

“You should’ve told me,” he says, hurt.

“This kind of thing, it…” you shake your head, wiping your clammy hands on the black silk. “It doesn’t need to be said.”

“Let me make it up to you.” He steps closer but you’re quicker, almost stumbling in your rush to avoid him.

“No,” you protest, “just go, Carlos, just go. Get out and close the door.”

“Cariño—”

“Go,” you say, voice hard with contempt. You refuse to meet his pleading eyes. “Go, Carlos.”

So he does.

He passes by, again, your handbag, with the sleek travel-sized bottle of Santal 33 you keep with you always peeking out, and the Cheval Blanc he’d bought you a few months prior, and the jacket you’d bought with his approval almost a year ago. He lingers in his car for a minute, the rain pelting the Golf noisily.

He drives off, wiping tears from his own face.

And maybe, had he stayed a little longer, he would’ve seen you tearfully emerge from the elevator, into the lobby, then out into the rain, still in your black dress, and let yourself get soaked waiting for him to come back, refusing to believe he’d even let himself leave you so broken.

—

You play Uno to pass the time, your last night in Cannes.

He’s won two games in a row at this point, and you’re almost 100% sure he has a plus four card in his hand, so you play a bit more deliberately, eyeing him with a challenging glint in your eyes. You’re a bit watered down by your earlier conversation, but you feign nonchalance anyway.

Blue 2. Blue 5. Green 5. Then finally, he slaps it onto the deck—a plus four card. “Oh, come on, Carlos,” you say, almost actually irritated.

“I’ll kiss it better,” he says. Suddenly overwhelmed, you push yourself off the counter and storm out.

He follows you, stumbling into the empty balcony and softly shutting the door, voice still colored with laughter. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you’d be so upset about the—”

You barely hear the rest of his clearly half-hearted, humorous apology. It doesn’t matter to you.

What does matter is everything from the years past crashing on your shoulders like debris, like rain, finally giving under the weight of being so close to him again. Everything. The tangled fog of your relationship, the start, the middle, the terrible end neither of you wanted. You pulsed with want, with yearning, with sadness.

So you ask yourself why? Why? Why? Why couldn’t he have come back? More importantly—why did he let you go so easily?

The truth is, you’ve drowned yourself in work so long you’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel, to be felt. And if Carlos is doing this, all this, all the touching and the tension and the debris and the rain that crash on you like a bruising, torrential storm, for his own pleasure, like this is all a game, then you’ve yearned for nothing.

“This isn’t about the game, Carlos!” It heaves itself out of you in a half-sob, carried by the wind.

He stops—stops walking, stops smiling. Just stops and stares, brows knitted with concern. You refuse to look at him, staring instead at the skyline, arms crossed. The view blurs with tears, lights meshing together prettily.

He stutters your name out in a feeble response. It’s mortifying, the way you start to cry when it leaves his mouth.

You turn then, willing your lips to stop quivering. “Good for you,” you say shakily, “you can—you can fool around, kiss me like it’s nothing, pretend like we never even mattered so you can make jokes about how we’ve ended up here again, back, together.” You inhale, but it’s no use; you’re crying even as you speak. “And I’ll laugh, because it can be funny, you know, fuck it. But… I’m so—”

The wanting shows, in moments like this. Wanting love, wanting comfort, wanting warmth, an escape from work and stress and life. You know how it feels, to be loved. You’d been familiar with it, at some point. You want it again, the ache, the kiss, the pain of it all. More than that, you want him. For just a moment. But all this wanting is so exhausting.

You want this profile to be over. You want to pull him close and tell him how proud you are, but also how hurt you are. You want Spain. You miss Paris. Everything, everything, every memory, every single painful loving thing bursts inside you.

“—tired.” You nod your head, licking tears that have perched on your lip, smiling humorlessly, shrugging. “I’m—I’m tired, and lonely, and being around you makes it worse. Being around you hurts me. It hurts you. This profile was a bad idea, and I should’ve trashed this the moment I learned I’d be covering you. Because I knew then it would’ve turned to shit, and I was right.”

He stares, unmoving. He remembers, too. He’d tell you everything if the words clicked just right. But they never do; they tangle like cotton balls in his throat before he can kneel and name everything he remembers, everything he loved about the two of you. Cariño. Just be mine, tell me everything, tell me you love me.

You wipe a hand over your face. “Let’s just let this go already. You know, we really were good for a while. This… this is maybe just one of those things where we made it in another life, but not this one.”

At his returned silence, you nod, then walk quietly past him and back into the room.

It’s just as empty as you’d left it, dim and lit only by the warm light above the kitchen counter. Your forgotten Uno game lies on the same spot, beside the two empty wine glasses. You stare for a second. Life had been different when he’d lay down his cards just minutes ago.

A coat is tugged from in between couch cushions, your heels from by the door hastily pulled on. Every movement feels heavy, like sandbags are tied to your limbs, your tongue, your eyelids. You turn, one last time, to see the moment suspended in time—and you meet his eyes. Even across the room you feel like you’re drowning in them, dark and solemn.

“Wait,” he says, and even with just one syllable he’s managed to stop your world from turning again. “You’re right. Everything you said. When I’m around you, I hurt. I’m reminded of how awful I was then. It’s painful to be together.”

Eyes meet, eyes blink, eyes close.

“But you didn’t trash the feature. And I still enjoy your company. You could be covering Rafael Nadal or whoever right now. I could be in a jet to Japan. But you and I are here, are we not?”

Only you. It’s only you.

“I’ve missed you.” It rips through him. “I want to be here with you. I want to make the pain go away, so let me.”

“It’s useless,” you protest, tearily. “This won’t work. I’ll get mad, you’ll get fed up, I’ll get bored, you’ll put work before us.”

“Okay.” He paces toward you, nearer and nearer, closing the distance between you both. “I’ll make it work.”

“Carlos,” you weep, “I don’t know why you don’t get it. Life sucks. And all we get are little moments where things are… are good. So don’t waste the moments like this. Let’s not waste the moments on this.”

“You’re not a waste,” he says—and you crumple into his arms, worn, exhausted.

A knot in your heart is slowly unraveling itself. You’ve waited, yearned for so long, and finally you’re in his arms again, with the kind of quiet resolution only he would understand. You left the lights on for him. You’d do it again, but you don’t have to.

You bury your head in his chest, a chorus of apologies leaving him. I’m sorry, he says. I’m sorry, I love you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Everything.

I love you, you say weakly. I love you, that’s enough. I waited for this to leave, but all it did was hide. The love has yet to pass. It never will.

—

“Yours really is the best selling one!” Nick pulls you in for a hug. “We have Nadal and CR7 on the roster, but Sainz’s is selling like crazy. Your writing is just—” He kisses his fingers. “You are amazing.”

“You flatter me,” you reply gracefully, letting him pull you into another embrace but prying him off a bit faster. You don’t need another Jonathan-esque freakout in the middle of the room.

The GQ party, six months later, almost a mirror of the fundraiser just a few months ago. Only this time, you’re not tacked onto Lewis, and you’re not buzzing with nerves (as much). You had run into Lewis when you entered, and Charles too, and Lando when he spotted you, but none of them are your plus ones to this event.

Your profile is the talk of the journalism scene. Nobody can shut up about it, and it thrills you, excites you, to be witnessing your work be recognized beside Carlos himself. He brings you a glass of champagne and presses a kiss to your cheekbone, smiling against it.

Neither of you notice Lando and Charles behind you, watching like hawks. The elder cackles, presents his hand like a sacrifice and turns to the Brit. “Aha.What did I tell you, chat?”

“Five hundred euros,” moans Lando, slapping a bunch of bills onto it. “You’re an intuitive prick.”

“Those two are soulmates.” They stare at your foolish figures, smiling like idiots, high-fiving even. “The kind that’ll always, always find their way back to each other. Always.”

Lando shrugs. “Hey, honestly, for once, I’m glad I lost a bet.”

“I look great on the cover,” Carlos says, both of you staring at the screen’s display of it.

“Shut up,” you smile, interlocking your fingers. “Well, my writing looks great inside.”

“Really does,” he says. “I’m so, so proud of you, cariño.”

“Proud of me?” You tease, staring up at him. “You made the last minute title change that caused fans to go crazy.” You both turn to stare at it displayed on the screen, smiling fondly.

Carlos Sainz—on racing, gracious defeat, and refinding love.

#f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader

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strawberriianime · 5 months

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3-In-A-Row

♡ Kirara Hoshi x Reader x Kinji Hakari

♡ It was supposed to be a study session for finals but things took a turn~

♡ cw: college au, threesome, 18+ descriptions of sex, oral sex both giving and receiving, fingering, double penetration, Kirara has a pp but they/them pronouns (love them), unprotected sex, cum swallowing, nastyyyyyy just read!

A loud sigh rang across the room belonging to no other person but Kirara. When it came to studying Kirara was always the first to crack due to it being "boring". You closed the text book seeing you were the only one still paying attention to it as Kirara was laid out on the chair and Hakari scrolled on his phone. "I suppose we can take a break it is getting quite boring." You stood up deciding to stretch out your back hearing the satisfying crack. "Hey?" Kirara spoke gaining your attention. "Do you think people think we fuck?” The question made you choke on air. It wasn't uncommon for you to come to their dorm to study but you never really thought what other people would think. Yeah, you guys spend a lot of time together but that’s what friends do. “Well uh, I?…” you were lost for words honestly not knowing how to respond. “Hmm ever had the idea of fucking me or Hakari hmmmm?” Kirara leaned up propping themself up onto their elbows. You’d be lying if you said the idea hadn’t crossed your mind once or twice, it’s no secret really. A couple times you’ve gotten drunk and made out with them but hey it never went that far. You were in college and single you could do whatever you wanted to do. Making your way to Kirara, you sat crisscrossed bringing your face close to theirs. “I maybe had a fantasy or two” you spoke, they could smell the spearmint gum you were chewing earlier lingering in your mouth..

Hakari sat back quietly watching the situation unfold between you two. "How about we make that fantasy come true hmm? Or are you scared?" Kirara's face came closer to your own lips just centimeters apart. Without a second thought, you brought your lips down to theirs tasting the strawberry chapstick they had coating their lips. Hakari watched eagerly as Kirara pulled you in by your waist, causing you to straddle them deepening the kiss. Your tongues brushed against one another both battling for dominance. Your hands ran under their shirt feeling their slender waist, rubbing circles on their hip. With a quick tug, Kirara was quick to remove your sweater leaving you in your baby pink lace bra. "Oh, how cute!" they exclaimed admiring the fabric rubbing their finger across. "You can take it off if you'd like" You smiled as you felt their hands come to your back toying with the clasp allowing your breast to spring free. "Hakari would you like to join us?" you extended a hand to him watching as he shuffled in his seat. He was quick to sit on the other side of you leaving you in the middle of them. You felt a pinch of your nipple before feeling something wet on your right bud. You arched your back as you felt a similar feeling on your left and your pants being shuffled down. Placing a leg on Hakari's leg, he snaked his hands down your pants feeling the thin fabric that separated his fingers from coming in contact with your dripping heat.

Nodding your head you allowed him to pull the fabric down your legs allowing him to rub his fingers up and down your aching slit. The feeling of Kirara sucking at your nipples and Hakari playing with your heat was enough to get you moaning. Once Hakari gathered enough of your juices he began rubbing circles on your clit. His touch was rough, but rough in just the right ways. You felt two fingers poking at your entrance causing your to arch your back when they made their way inside. Based on the technique you could feel that it was the middle and ring fingers rolling along your insides. He began pumping his fingers inside the sound of your slick filling the room. Your legs twitch at the feeling pussy clenching on his fingers longing to be filled more. You moved your hands one to each of their laps and began palming them through their pants. Deciding that was not enough you slipped your hands under their pants palming them both with a steady pace. As your hips began to stutter against Hakari's fingers your climax was just about to peak he pulled his fingers out leaving you clenching around nothing. He brought his fingers up to his mouthing tasting the sweet saltiness of your essence.

Removing your hands from both their pants, you dropped to your knees in between both of them. With ease, you removed both of their pants allowing them both to spring free. Licking your palms, you grabbed both members taking one in each hand and starting off with slow stroaks. You teased at the tip rolling your thumb and collecting the precum that bubbled from the slit. You licked your lips eagerly as you moved over to Kirara, licking slow and steady strips along their member. You didn't stop stroking Hakari as you licked up and down taking Kirara into your warm mouth. They let out a low moan enjoying the feeling of your mouth licking every inch of them. With a pop, you released Kirara from your mouth and made your way to Hakari whom you swapped now using the saliva from your mouth to stroak Kirara. Following the same steps you were quick to lick at Hakari's dick, placing small kisses along the shaft. With a quick drop, you had taken Hakari's deep into your throat almost gagging considering how thick he was. He was quick to grip your hair pushing you down even lower, nose being tickled by his pubic hair. You continued to stroke Kirara as you felt them twitch in your hand knowing they were close to their release. You felt Hikari's dick pulsate in your mouth causing you to such even harder. "Fuck I'm going to cum Kirara don't you cum yet" You bobbed your head even faster feeling the build-up of his release coming. Within an instant you felt Hikari's release flood your mouth, his cum not too thick with a slightly salty taste. On queue, you were quick to swallow every drop not leaving any behind.

As you caught your breath, you felt Hakari pull you up and place you on the chair so you were on your hands and knees in front of Kirara. You were almost confused when you felt a sudden wet suck down in your nether realm. You gripped the couch not being able to shake the feeling of Hakari lapping at your pussy. You licked at your lips once more, ensuring Kirara did not feel left out. You licked slowly at their tip watching as precum began forming once more. Coating your hands in saliva, you use your hands to pump up and down to cover what your mouth wasn’t reaching in the position. Kirara let out a series of groans to pair with the moans you released upon them.

Hikari placed delicate kisses along your fold before hooking his hands on your underside roughly palming the fat of your ass. He used this leverage to pull you lower to his face as you practically sat on his face. His tongue moved fast as he licked up and down your fold collecting the natural juice that formed from your needy hole. This tongue made way from the ball of your clit to the warmth of your hole licking around the aching area. He was quick to thrust his tongue in causing you to let out a high-pitched moan.

Just as you knew you were about to cum, you could tell Kirara was as well. Hallowing your cheeks, you sucked harder going down deeper and grinding yourself onto Hakari’ face. With a few more pumps and a couple sucks you and Kirara were both moaning together. Your release coating Hikari’s face as Kirara came in your mouth. It took a moment for you all to catch your breaths

“Tired already?” a voice rang through the room. You were brought out of your thought feeling a poke around your entrance. You were pushed onto your back, your back meeting Kirara's chest. You felt Kirara grip around your waist raising you slightly, feeling a second poke at your entrance. "Think you can take us both?" Before you could respond you felt something hard poke around pushing its way inside based on the movements it had to be Kirara adjusting you and lowering you down onto their length. They let you adjust to the feeling before Hakari began rubbing circles on your clit. You let out a whimper feeling your nipples being played with once more, your pussy clenching around Kirara wanting to feel some form of movement. "Had to get you nice and wet" Hakari said as you felt another poke at your entrance, looking down you were already stretched so seeing Hakari attempt to stretch his way inside you. There was a slight discomfort as your leg shook with the painful stretch of having two people inside one hole. Once he was able to push himself fully in, he threw one leg over his shoulder and the other on the side of the chair allowing comfort for all.

Once they figured you were comfortable, they began moving at a push-and-pull rhythm allowing nonstop pleasure for you. "Shit you're soaking wet" You knew it was true you could hear the squelching of your pussy with each thrust. The amount of pleasure you felt was overstimulating considering you were taking both there wasn't a second gone by where you didn't feel pleasure. "You both feel so good inside me" You threw your head back on Kirara's shoulder. They took this advantage and began peppering kisses on your neck. "I don't think I can take this much longer, I'm going to cum." You whined out. "Hold on a bit longer we're almost there" You felt their movements pick up causing you to moan much louder than before. Taking your right hand you began circling at your clit making you clench down even harder. "Shit, I'm going to cum" you whined out feeling their thrust getting more jagged by the minute. With a few more pumps and the stutter of their hips, you felt yourself spasm warm liquids mixing with their own. Grunts, groans and moans filled the room as long-anticipated orgasm came over everybody.

A couple of minutes had passed before they both pulled out of you slowly making sure to not further overstimulate your body. It took some time for you to catch your breath and to calm your nerves. "Here you go!" a towel was put onto your body suddenly. it was Kirara where was Hakari? Speaking of, he walked back into the main room "Let's get you all cleaned up I was running a bath for you." What have you gotten yourself into?

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

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Something to Fight For (Epilogue) Dad!Joel x f!Reader

Something to Fight For: Epilogue

Warnings: Tooth-rottingly sweet epilogue.

Words: 5.3

a/n: I dragged y’all through angsty hell and I PROMISED I would deliver a happy ending and imo it don’t get much happier than this! Now, if you're sad this is over I understand. Nice thing is, I got vignettes happening featuring the characters in this story. Some of 'em sweet, some spicy, some funny. I can't say goodbye to these characters or this world quite yet. So I'm not gonna. And if you want, you're always welcome to request a scene you'd like to see in the comments! I love hearing what you want to see! And I got heaps of other writing, but if you like this sweeter sort I recommend: “Bravo! Take a Bow” and “Losing our Minds Together”

I thank every single one of you out there that read this story and left a review because it really feels like we built a community here in the comment section. I'm gonna miss seein' y'all here. Hopefully you stick around while I keep writing, but if not I am so glad we could share this online moment together. Thank you for making this fanfic author a happy gal. I'm gettin' choked up here so I'll stop and we can get on to seeing our sweet idiots in love.

Oh and please review, reblog, etc cuz it makes me smile.

--------------------------------------------------------------

You walk into life on Rancher Street as naturally as if you've always been a fixture there. You think this is borne from a routine the three of you slipped into without thinking.

Mornings are coffee and cereal (Joel's banana pancakes on the weekends), then it's getting ready, brushing Sarah's hair, packing leftovers into cartoon lunch bags (for Sarah) and brown paper bags (for you and Joel).

You're dropped off first; your work is on the way to the school. Its kisses for both of their sweet smiling faces and then you're thrust into the world of animal rescue. Joel drives Sarah to school next, holding her hand until they reach her classroom where he kisses her forehead and tells her to "learn lots" before handing her off to her new first grade teacher.

He drives to Tommy at whatever site they're working at. The days are long, but punctuated with texts from you. Most are funny, some sweet. Occasionally Joel tries to write back but when he really wants to interact with you he just excuses himself and calls you. Hearing your voice always makes him smile in that dreamy, crooked way that has Tommy giving him shit the rest of the day.

At five promptly Joel returns to pick you up with Sarah buckled in her car seat smiling up at you. His heart jumps every time you come through the door, eyes bright and smiling as you jog over. He holds back the urge to kiss you senseless, restraining you both to a quick peck and then drives his girls home.

Dinner is done by Joel unless you've offered (which you rarely do because cooking is a drag). Instead you help Sarah set the table and the meal is spent listening to Sarah talk about her day and the animals that you’ve helped to rescue.

After dinner Sarah goes to play with her toys or watch a DVD while you tidy up. Joel sits with his coffee in his favorite green mug at the counter, eyes on you and chatting as you do the dishes. He always tries to help at first but you always remind him that he did the cooking and that you want to keep things fair.

This is when you both talk about everything and anything. Work, movies you want to see, plans for the weekend, philosophical questions (you've both decided that you'd rather fight one horse sized duck versus a thousand duck sized horses, for example). Joel is hard to get information out of. He isn't used to talking about himself, but you urge him to do so. He thinks his job is boring but you're fascinated by controlling clients and his keen mind when problem solving an issue at a job site.

Sometimes Sarah turns the volume of the TV up really high during these times and Joel has to yell over the noise at her to turn it down, smiling and shaking his head. It's one of your favorite parts about being here. There's always noise in the background, either a television or laughter. Your home had been so quiet, so empty, you'd just never realized

The other favorite part is how Joel always finds ways to touch you. Subtle things like a hand trailing over your lower back as you wash the dishes, nestling his shoulder against yours as you watch television together, laughing and hip checking you gently as he passes you in the hallway.

The only thing not perfect (at least for Joel) is the odd evening when you leave to go back to Maria's basement suite. He doesn't call the old suite your home because as far as he's concerned this is your home.

His stomach always drops when he sees you've gathered your purse in your hands, ready to leave. Joel usually walks you to your car, but some nights he stops you both at the front door, bringing you into his arms and kissing you deeply.

"I should go Joel," you tell him as he holds you, his mouth moving from your lips to your jaw, kissing that spot behind your ear that has you whimpering and your legs buckling. "Still have stuff there."

"Please stay," Joel murmurs against your mouth, hands wrapped around your waist as he presses into you against the wall. "Just a little longer."

Sometimes (often) this works. Your resolve breaks under his sweet mouth and hands and on these nights you wrap your legs around his waist and allow him to carry you back to the bedroom.

These nights he spends hours making love to you until you're too exhausted to leave. These nights Joel likes best because you linger in his arms and in his bed until the morning, the scent of your perfume on his pillow and sheets until you return that evening.

"Love having you here," Joel sleepily murmurs into your hair, kissing you awake one morning. "When are you just gonna move in?"

Still half asleep in his bed you stretch, snuggling up against him and sighing into the crook of his neck. "Whenever you want, baby."

Joel wants you there all the time. He wants Sarah to know that you're there; he doesn't want to hide you. But you're tentative, nervous that this all feels too good too fast. You ask that Sarah not know that you're spending the night, not just yet. She knows that you’re daddy’s girlfriend, but that’s all you want her to know right now.

You pretend to arrive in the mornings, making a show of ringing the doorbell and smirking as Joel welcomes you in, his eyes amused.

Despite the occasional seduction, Joel understands and he lets you go at your own pace. He agrees to what makes you feel comfortable.

But he loves when you arrive with a new cardboard box of your stuff from Maria's. He sees the blush across your cheek as he excitedly takes it from you, asking where this one will go. Most of its clothes and those boxes are promptly brought to the bedroom and unpacked into the closet. Seeing your blouses hung next to his button ups makes him feel good.

Week by week more of your things are brought over until one day there's nothing left for you at Maria's except for your bed, dresser and sofa. You tell him as much over a late night snack of chocolate pudding after Sarah has been put to bed.

"Pretty much everything I need is here."

Joel makes note of this, his heart hammering in his chest as he reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out the key he got cut.

“You’ll need this, then.”

He slides it across the counter with his forefinger, his eyes not leaving your face as he does. He sees the surprise there, the widening of your eyes.

"You have a lot of keys to your house just lying around?" You joke, feeling your heart race.

"Nah, got this one cut the day after the wedding," Joel murmurs. "Thought you'd need it sooner or later."

He loves seeing you blush, especially when you do that shy smile of yours.

When you look uncertain later that night in bed next to him, fingers twisting together anxiously Joel notices, lowering his book to glance at you.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you really okay with me moving in here?" You ask with a furrowed brow. "It's not too soon?"

Joel's mouth over yours is all the answer you need. But he's so delighted by your potential move in that he'd already launched into an outline of what to do with your furniture.

"We could sell your sofa and bed. I know a guy who needs a sofa. Only 'cuz my stuff is bigger and already here, but I don't want you feelin' like this isn't your house too so maybe we should-"

Kissing is the second best way to stop Joel Miller from rambling. The first is climbing on top of him and urging him inside of you, languidly bringing you both to orgasm.

You do both just to be safe.

The things left at Paul's had been clothing and a few personal items. You considered leaving it, but decide in the end that you shouldn't have to.

Your small pile of cardboard boxes are left outside his old apartment. He's sure not to be in said apartment when Joel goes with you to retrieve them.

You'd ridden over in Joel's truck, the day punctuated by an unexpected silence with Joel's protective hand over your knee. He'd loaded the boxes alongside you, his face tight. With every box retrieved from Paul's place Joel grew more and more miserable.

He hadn't responded to your gentle teasing as you both worked, had turned down your idea of going out for lunch, and had been all over a grumpy bastard.

When you'd loaded everything and were driving home Joel's hand had flown back to your knee, grip just as tight as before. When you finally questioned him about his bizarre behavior his dark eyes had been hard.

"The boxes and Paul," Joel winces, eyes fixed on the road. "Just reminded me how close I was to losin' you."

You make him pull over right then and there so you can crawl into his lap and kiss him senseless. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you so tightly to him you feel breathless.

"You'll never lose me, Joel," you whisper against his neck. "Never."

When you make love that evening your fingers linger on his cheeks as you stare into his eyes and the words you whisper as he fills you are of the love you have for him, the longing for this life you held for so long within you.

As you both begin to drift off, tangled together under the sheets you press a kiss to that patch in his beard that doesn't quite grow.

"I'm not going anywhere, Joel. I'm done running."

///

You miss having an office space like your studio had. A little area for just you to organize your thoughts and work. But it's a small price to pay because you like existing on Rancher Street. You've enjoyed every day of the last three months.

It feels like home when you're there and not because of the structure but the two figures inside. Home isn't a place, you've come to realize, its people. Joel and Sarah.

Evening rituals are the same as when you babysat. Picking out books as Sarah slips into bed smelling of toothpaste and the hair cream Joel massages into the curls under her favorite purple bonnet. You smiling at her while she snuggles down under the covers, propping toad up next to her so he can see the pictures in the books.

"Okay we're ready."

The only difference is that Joel is there too, bending down to kiss his daughter's cheek and murmuring a low "G'night babygirl. Sweet dreams. Love you."

She gives him a sweet 'I love you' back, kissing his lightly bearded cheek. If Joel takes too long to leave, getting distracted by the sight of you gathering books or just wanting to linger, Sarah is prone to shooting him a silent look that communicates: okay, I love you dad, now please leave.

He always does. Because reading before bed is your special time, just the two of you. Joel used to do it on the nights you weren't there, but now you are there every single night his services are no longer necessary.

Joel's qualities are better served in the kitchen, you and Sarah decide as you watch her drawing on the sidewalk with the chalk you've just bought.

"Daddy's a better cook than you."

She says it thoughtfully and without malice as she draws a lopsided flower.

"Yes," you agree with a nod, making a star pattern nearby. "Much better. I think he puts love in his food. I just use salt."

But the ever empathetic Sarah is quick to point out your many virtues as well. The main one of course being your stellar reading ability and your stories in general.

So every single night Joel stands there outside Sarah's room, arms folded and shoulder tilted against the hallway wall, his cheek facing the half closed door of his daughter.

There he listens to the two of you giggling or you reading the book Sarah has picked from your pile (Sarah's right, you're very good at doing the voices), the gentle murmurs of 'I love you" thrown back between you two and those sounds wind around Joel's heart in a way he never knew just sounds could.

He's so fucking happy.

And when you finally creep out, quietly closing the door behind you and shooting him a pleased smile, Joel is always there to grip you by the hand and drag you to your shared bedroom down the hall.

Rarely do the two of you make it to the bed with all your clothes on because Joel has many virtues outside of the kitchen as well.

///

Joel watches you give a frustrated sigh, frowning at the laptop on the kitchen table before putting your face in your hands.

"Everything okay?"

"Just this fu- darn sanctuary project," you self correct, remembering a listening Sarah sitting across from you.

Sarah has a piece of paper she has drawn to look like a laptop and she pretends to clack away on it when you do on yours. Joel sits next to you, his knee brushing yours as you complain.

"Alex's contact said she could get the supplies at cost and he was supposed to get back to me but he hasn't and now the landscaping guy is saying -" you pause, realizing Joel's eyes have taken on a dreamy, faraway look. “-And you're not even listening to me, are you Miller?"

He gives you a guilty look. "Nope."

You give a sharp laugh at his honesty, leaning over and shoving his shoulder with yours affectionately.

"Hey, I really wanna show you somethin'," Joel says with a hint of excitement in his dark brown eyes, a window into the boy he must have been. "C'mon. Both of you."

You follow him down the steps to the basement, to Tommy's old place, your hand wrapped around Sarah's. You both follow him towards the large door separating the areas, watching his broad shouldered walk, the excitement in his rapid footsteps.

At the door there he spins with a small anticipatory smile on his handsome face.

"I thought this would be a good place to have for an office," Joel explains shyly pointing to the door behind him.

You smile up at him, delighted that he thought of you needing one. He pushes open the door for you, his eyes on your face as he does.

Balloons.

Hundreds of colorful balloons take up almost the entire main room of the basement.

Sarah doesn't wait for you, she runs in headfirst giggling and shrieking, her arms open wide.

You walk into the basement in a daze, your eyes owlish as you take in this prism of color, feeling the balloons brush your skin, the awe-inspiring sensation of being surrounded in a rainbow. You laugh, it bursts from you.

You can see that the space beyond the balloons has been transformed into an office, complete with built in bookcases and a custom desk under the window. You trace a hand along the desk before being swept up in the color of the balloons and Sarah's contagious laughter.

Joel is standing there just outside the door, his eyes bright as he watches the two loves of his life laughing and tossing up the colorful balloons.

Sarah kicks at them with vigor, her head thrown back in laughter at the squeaks they emit when knocked about.

Joel looks to you, expecting the same behavior and pausing when he sees how you're now standing there looking at him with damp eyes. The balloons float between you, falling to block his eyes as you approach.

"Joel."

"Mmm?"

"Get in here," you order gently, your finger curling around his collar as you gently tug him in encouragement. You can't move him of course, but he grins widely, nodding and stepping into the color with you.

For a moment neither of you speaks. All you can see is Joel and the balloons that seem to surround you on all sides, the colors framing his beautiful face. You can hear Sarah's distant laughter.

Then Joel smiles in that sweet, open way of his. You look down when you feel his hand taking yours and see a diamond ring being slipped onto your fourth finger. You stare at it in amazement before your gaze meets his. In his deep brown eyes you see a future so beautiful you never could have imagined it. What you don’t know is that when Joel looks into your eyes he sees exactly the same.

"Will you ma-"

"Yes," you breathe without letting him finish, your hands coming to either side of his jaw. He pulls you into his arms grinning before his mouth is on yours, gentle and sweet. You know that your eyes are wet and you know that on your deathbed this will be one of those moments that comes to you, comforting you.

You pull back and look around at all the balloons, the color and you smile broadly through the tears.

"Couldn't wait for your birthday," Joel murmurs against your cheek. "Hope that's okay."

"Yeah," you say curling your arms around his neck. "It's okay."

You don't mind at all.

///

"Shit, did you feed the cat?"

"Daddy you said sh-"

"I know babygirl," Joel says rubbing the back of his neck as Sarah looks to him with a chastised look. "Was wrong of me. Daddy just doesn't want to find another hairball in his shoe. "

Jam, your orange tabby kitten is not really yours at all. Despite being brought home for you, Jam quickly decided that Sarah with her warm bed and shirts covered in food crumbs was a much better companion than you. You don't mind though, seeing how much Sarah loves the cat is enough for you.

"I fed him," you say giggling as the three of you make your way up the drive. The whole gang has been invited to Frank and Bill's for a Sunday lunch. You see them quite often despite living on Rancher Street full time.

They often encourage you to bring Sarah and you do without hesitation. She loves Bill and Frank just as much as you do. She loves painting with Uncle Frank and baking with Uncle Bill. She loves that their house smells like cinnamon in the winter and fresh flowers in the summer.

Despite living right next door, Maria and Tommy arrive late with cornbread and lemonade, but are given a reprieve when Maria shares that she took so long getting ready because "morning sickness makes it hard to feel cute."

Joel had hugged Tommy so tightly you were sure you heard bones cracking. You had just cried, throwing your arms around Maria, careful not to squeeze. Sarah asked to feel the baby and Maria told her it was a bit too early to feel much, but she still let her niece gently stroke her swelling belly.

"I think it's gonna be a boy," Maria told you sagely over lemonade at the table. "A mother knows."

You smile, thinking of a little mix of Maria and Tommy in the vision of a little baby boy. Your eyes sail over to Joel, watching as he chats with Jackson and Tommy. You wonder what it would be like if you had a kid. Who would it take after?

You’re distracted by this idea when Sarah and Bill bring out the dessert, followed by Frank with the coffee. The cupcakes are decorated to resemble beautiful flowers and you all wait as Sarah picks the perfect one for each of you. A daisy for Sarah, a lily each for Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy, a purple rose for Daddy, a peony for Frank and a forget-me-not for Bill and finally Sarah smiles at the pink carnation she labored the longest over with Bill. Sarah immediately cites that this one belongs to you.

"That one," Sarah says pointing, watching as Bill pushes the plated cupcake in your direction. "Do you like that one, Mama?"

Joel's hand that's been absently rubbing along your spine stills when he hears that. His attention goes to your face, seeing the way your eyes have gotten wide. Mama.

You feel your breath catch in your chest as she calls you this, her tiny face turned up and smiling at you. You don't want to embarrass her, don't want to draw attention to the fact that she's called you Mama.

She did it so casually, so naturally that a part of you is worried she didn't even realize she'd done it. If you draw attention to it you're scared there's a chance that she'll take it back.

"I love it," you whisper, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, bug."

You kiss her again, feeling tears prick your eyes when Joel's hand skates to the small of your back, squeezing softly. Maria and Tommy are wet-eyed, and share a soft smile before turning their attention to their cupcakes. Frank sniffles, pretending he’s just about to sneeze. You catch Bill’s eyes across the table and when you see them glossy and that’s what makes the tears spill over your lash line.

"Why are you crying?" Sarah asks, her head cocked to the side. She can’t understand why everyone suddenly got so quiet.

"I'm not," you insist. "Just allergies."

Sarah is satisfied or maybe just relieved with this answer and she and clamors onto the chair next to you, ready to dig into her own cupcake. She leans companionably against you, starting to tell Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy about the class hamster.

You feel Joel's kiss on your temple and you turn to see his eyes damp like yours.

"Mama," you whisper to him. "I'm Mama."

////////

3 years later

Joel is at your side, whispering how strong you are, how beautiful, but all you want to do is punch him.

Hard.

"You did this to me!" You say through clenched teeth as a wave of painful cramping goes through you. Your head falls back onto the damp hospital pillow.

"If I recall it was a very mutual decision," Joel insists with a wry smile. His mouth goes to your ear and his voice drops to a deliciously low timbre only you can hear. "The words 'fuck me pregnant' were a direct quote by you, were they not?"

You don't answer him on that. Not just because he's right, but because a stab of pain is going through your pelvis that takes your breath away.

St. David's is a very fine hospital with very fine people but at this moment everything is not fucking fine. You feel like you've been split in half by a fucking axe.

"Doing so good, baby," Joel croons, wiping the damp hair from your forehead and temples as he watches the doctor and nurses at your feet. "Keep going, keep going."

For a delirious moment you think that it was Joel saying these exact words that got you pregnant in the first place and you let out a high pitched laugh as Joel looks to you in concern.

"Push," the doctor says, breaking into your foggy brain. And so you do. As you have been doing for the last three fucking hours.

You grit your teeth, feeling Joel's mouth on your temple whispering words of encouragement and you push. You push with everything you have and then...

There is a pause and then the loud braying sound of a newborn's cry. The doctor's voice behind the mask rings out.

"It's a girl!"

A sister for Sarah, just like she'd wanted.

A second daughter for you and Joel.

You look over to see Joel's dark eyes shimmering with tears and you feel you've never been so in love with him as you are in this moment. You burst into tears, your face wet as Joel kisses you.

"You're amazing," Joel whispers against your mouth. "Fucking amazing."

The nurse brings over a pink faced infant with a shock of dark brown hair. She is pink all over and her little face is scrunched up as she wails. You take her into your arms, marveling at how you and Joel made the little creature you're now holding. She's so warm and she smells so good.

You glance over at Joel, recalling all the nights spent with his hand curving over your belly, murmuring soft sweet things to your daughter as she grew there. You think of when you both sang together, your hand carding through his hair and his eyes on you. You remember how on the days she felt really jumpy, all it would take is Joel singing a few bars from a song and she would quiet right down.

Now Joel's finger goes to trace the slope of her tiny nose and you smile as she quiets down, grunting. Seems he has a soothing effect on her outside the womb as well.

"She's so fucking perfect."

"Hopefully she doesn't swear as much as her parents," Joel says as he presses his lips to your temple.

You giggle at that, pulling her back so you can see your daughter's sweet face. The wailing has subsided and she gives little grunts as she tries to open her eyes.

"Hi Ellie," you coo. "We're your parents."

/////

Four years after your first meeting, Joel Miller sits across from you in the very booth you had your disastrous blind date on. It's become a sort of tongue in cheek tradition, to have you all back to where it began.

Only this booth is far more crowded than it ever was then. A very pregnant Maria slides in next to you, looking every bit the beautiful goddess she always does. Tommy and their son slip into the opposite side beside Joel, saying their hellos.

"They're so cute," Maria coos as she watches Sarah give Ellie a toy to play with before going back to her puzzle book.

"Sarah loves being a big sister," you smile softly.

"Tell that to Jackson would you?" Maria says rolling her eyes at her eldest child who is obsessed with his game boy. "He seems to think that this new baby means the beginning of the end."

"He's been an only child for so long he doesn't want to share you," you insist. But you can't help but feel secretly lucky that your daughter's had an immediate connection.

Even when pregnant, Sarah had talked to the baby in your belly, she'd even helped pick out her sisters name. At this moment Sarah is curled up next to you on her seat, pencil in hand and her eyes focused on her latest obsession.

Toad has been replaced by puzzle books (though you still find him under her pillow most nights) and her new favorite color is green. She's wearing green head to toe tonight including the green barrettes in her hair. She's like a slender blade of grass with wild hair and big, hazel eyes.

And while much about Sarah has changed, she still smiles when you and her father kiss, she still wows you with knowledge beyond her years and she still plays with the ends of your hair when she's anxious or distracted. Oh and she still loves you to death.

You sling an arm around her, your eyes on the menu before traveling up to watch Joel across from you. He's looking at Ellie in her booster seat next to him, babbling incoherently as most toddlers do.

Ellie is a daddy's girl though and through, obsessed with Joel the minute she laid eyes on him. It's now to the point where if she starts crying most mornings you simply glance his way. He always gives a grumpy frown before you see the smile peeking through as he goes to retrieve her from her crib.

He's smiling broadly at her now, his finger tracing down her nose as she gurgles. Something he’s done since she was born. There's something about seeing Joel Miller, all broad shoulders and inherent masculinity, being so soft that makes you love him harder.

Sometimes when you're watching him play with your daughters or watching him cook you all dinner, you feel this overwhelming love for Joel that's almost incapacitating.

He seems to sense your gaze because his eyes travel over to you. He gives you a playful wink.

"You look great tonight," Joel says with eyes that linger on your décolletage.

"Thanks," you say taking an equally appreciative look at your husband. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

More than pretty well. Joel Miller is, as Frank had once told you, sex on legs, and you have to agree with the assessment. His linen shirt is rolled to the elbows, showing off his muscled forearms. His hair is brushed back from his face and he's wearing his glasses as he reads the menu. (Something he only does when desperate as you’d found out when living with him).

Joel wets his lower lip without thinking, his eyes drifting back down the front of your dress. Maria and Tommy are helping Jackson decide on what to order for dinner, distracted from your end of the table.

"You keep looking at me like that, Miller and we're gonna wind up with another kid," you murmur with a smirk, knowing Sarah's not paying attention.

"I'm not opposed to that," Joel says, his gaze heated.

"That's because you don't have to carry or pop them out," you reply with a good-natured roll of your eyes. "Just get to do the fun part."

Joel grins as you tilt over the table to fix the bow in Ellie's hair that your mother sent you. Ellie gurgles happily at you, smacking her tiny fists on the table. Joel takes this as an opportunity to not very covertly ogle your chest.

"Joel," you hiss, even though a smile is breaking out over your features. Joel tries to look innocently up at you, brows raised.

“Yeah baby?”

You want to be irritated, but he knows very well you love it.

"I don't know this one, Mama," Sarah says pointing to something on the page in her puzzle book. She's normally very independent so you know she must be really stuck. You glance over at the crossword clue.

"A six lettered spore producer," you read aloud and think for a moment. "Fungus?"

"That fits," Sarah enthuses, her pencil writing hurriedly.

"Speaking of which, I'll have the mushroom ravioli," you say as your server comes to take your order. Joel orders his chicken penne and Sarah's spaghetti and then his hand comes to fall on yours as the server takes the rest of the orders for the table.

His hand is heavy and warm, but that's nothing compared to the warmth of his eyes. It's the kind of look you associate with deep thinking, his "dreamy stare" as you've coined it.

"What are you thinking about, Miller?'

"Just that I never thought I'd be married to the same woman who screamed at me in the parking lot of this very restaurant."

You giggle behind your wineglass, watching Joel's eyes go soft.

"Or how happy I'd be."

He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing gently. He holds you there, watching as you stare back at him with eyes so full of love you're shocked Cupid himself hasn't come to give you his job.

You begin to smirk when Joel's dark eyes drop to your chest and then dart back to your face.

"I was also thinking about how three is a very nice number. . ."

436 notes · View notes

strawberrystepmom · 7 months

Text

pairing: werewolf!kakashi hatake x f!reader

word count: 5.2k

about: your boyfriend leaves you alone for one week every month and you can never seem to put your finger on why. convinced he’s cheating, you book a romantic getaway to pin him down and figure him out. while preparing to leave, you instead discover the hairy secret he has been keeping from you all this time.

contents: nsfw - mdni. cw knotting, cw mating, cw breeding kink. miscommunication with resolution, established relationship, piv sex, vaginal fingering, reader has breasts and is referred to as pretty and mate multiple times, reader has pubic hair, few mentions of birth control (reader is on it but method is not specified), sloppy and messy sex (saliva is mentioned but there is no specific instance of spitting)

notes: part of thot-o-ween 2023! ngl i had the most fun writing this one out of the whole group this far and i hope that it shows and you enjoy reading it! thanks for the support the last four weeks and i'm so glad we are getting into the thick of the good stuff now. ♡

“Don’t be ridiculous, he absolutely adores you.”

Despite the consistent reassurance of your best friend, you aren’t certain that your boyfriend Kakashi does adore you.

It’s not that he isn’t wonderful because he is. Supportive, serious without being a bore, and surprisingly humble - these are all things it takes no effort for you to feel and say about him. Despite this, you can’t shake the nagging distrust you’ve felt since he told you he’s going on his once a month week long business trip. Unfortunately, this time it coincides with a romantic getaway you tried to book for the two of you as a surprise. Despite days of trying to convince yourself that it’s nothing and you have nothing to worry about with his cyclical departures, you have a really bad feeling.

“I can’t explain it but my intuition is going crazy. It feels like he’s lying to me.”

Your mind has played through all of the reasonable possibilities for his departure and is now filtering through the unreasonable ones. The “he has a family he’s hiding from me” paranoia pings between your ears like a racing pinball and your friend can tell, her face set in a displeased frown. She has been placating you for the past five months, politely shoving you in the direction of speaking your mind to the man, but she knows you’re uncomfortable with the idea.

She reaches across the small table the two of you sit at, dotted with discarded napkins and cups full of rapidly melting ice, and grabs your hands between hers. You appreciate the gesture and squeeze her fingers with your thumbs, smiling softly.

“You already know my advice because I’ve given it freely. What you do next is completely up to you.”

Nodding, you know she’s right. She has told you to confront him, to snoop, to follow him and these all sound like wonderful ways to handle the issue in theory. In practice, though? That’s a different story.

Dropping her hands and picking your phone up from the table, you sigh and open the little green bubble that is the messages app. Kakashi’s thread is at the top of your list and you open it, smiling looking at his sweet wishes of a good evening with your friend.

Hope you’re having fun. See you soon. 😊

“I booked that cabin before he told me he was leaving, do you think I should still tell him about it?”

Your friend nods firmly, sticking to her earlier advice.

“Yes, you should have told him as soon as you planned the getaway but maybe he can arrange something with work if he knows. It’s still a week out.”

Sighing, you nod in agreement and tap out a message in response to your boyfriend, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.

I know this is kind of off the cuff and you already told me you’re going to be gone but I booked a cabin for all of next week for the two of us. If you can’t make it, I understand. Romantic surprises are so hard sometimes!

The message whooshes and shows as sent, the blue text bubble sitting as heavy as the anxiety in your stomach. It’s long winded and something you probably should have said in person rather than via text but considering how nauseous you already feel anticipating his answer, you think this may have been for the best. You lock your phone and place it back down, not wanting to stare at the screen any longer, and the waitress comes to drop off your check.

Just as you reach for the little black tray with your receipt, your phone pings and your eyebrows raise. You smile at the waitress as you slide your card onto the tray and send her off, picking up your phone as soon as it’s not rude to do so.

You are so thoughtful. Don’t worry about not saying something sooner, I will see what I can figure out. Thank you for doing something so sweet.

Maybe your mind really has been playing tricks on you. It’s hard to hide your grin as you pass the phone across the table and your friend smiles as she reads as well, holding her hands out and tilting her head.

“See? Good communication is key.”

You know she’s right.

Across town, though, Kakashi paces the floor of his bedroom wondering how the fuck he is going to make this work.

How he ended up landing someone like you is still beyond his rational understanding. You are too good to be true and booking a surprise romantic getaway, in any other situation, would be a gift. A luxury, even. Time spent with you, secluded, watching the autumn leaves fall? He couldn’t dream of anything more but next week simply does not work for him.

Pressing the screen of his phone wildly, he swipes through apps until he finds his moon phase tracker, popping open the calendar to see when exactly the full moon falls. He’ll get more details from you later but if you booked it from Monday to Sunday, he may be able to pull off leaving early but staying for most of the time. The full moon falls on Friday and realistically if he spent the week with you up until Thursday, he may be able to pull it off.

Sighing, he slumps down on the edge of his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. The luck he has had over the last few months hiding his secret from you has been nothing short of fortuitous and he’s glad for your trust in him even though it eats him up to lie about his whereabouts for a week every single month.

Putting you at risk is the last thing the man would ever want to do so he’s already taking a huge chance trying to make this week work knowing that his hormones are stronger in certain months rather than others. He has felt overcome by his instincts this entire month, it’s the reason he has buried himself in busy work rather than spending his free time with you, but he knows that if he hangs you out to dry this week it could result in him losing you.

That’s simply not an option he’s willing to entertain so he will figure it out despite how it makes his gut twist and his mind race.

Swiping off of the moon cycle app, he opens his messages and the cursor blinks at him tauntingly while he considers what to say.

I can come along Monday through Thursday if that’s alright with you?

Tapping the little blue arrow that sends the message off to you, he feels a weight on his shoulders that he can’t quite name. It’s sadness because he knows eventually he’ll have to tell you the truth about himself or let you go but selfishly, he wants to put it off for as long as he possibly can.

Something about you makes him believe that those old stories his dad told him growing up about their kind having fated mates may have been true. His mother was his father’s mate, she knew of his secret and kept it until the day she died, and despite this harsh world, Kakashi has always kept the smallest kindling of hope that it could be true.

Then he met you and his body all but told him it was, the ruts coming more consistently and stronger, lasting for longer than they ever have. What started as one day a month he had to hide away to keep from exposing himself became two days, and then three, and then an entire week having to seclude himself from you to keep from giving into his more base urges.

Another sigh leaves the man and he taps his feet against the floor beneath them impatiently, clutching his phone in his palm. Three pings in succession make him lift it to his face, squinting slightly thanks to the brightness of the screen, but he smiles reading your words.

Omg yay!!!

I’m glad to get you for even that long

Thank you for making it work for me

It’ll be a risk but he’s willing to take it to see your pretty smile and to spend time cozied up reading and watching your silly shows and enjoying each other.

It’ll all be worth it as long as he can keep control.

The days leading up to the trip pass uneventfully for you but Kakashi feels differently with each hour that passes, especially today.

He’s hot. Cloyingly and overwhelmingly, to the point he has to lay on his couch in nothing but boxers and an old tank top dug out of the back of his dresser drawer to try and cool down. Sweat glistens across his skin and his very bones ache, all of the blood in his body running to his cock and making it impossible for him to think.

When you arrive at his apartment to spend the night in order to make leaving in the morning simpler, you’re shocked to see him lying on the couch with one hand down his boxers halfheartedly playing with his hard cock with one arm thrown over his eyes. His cheeks are pink and he’s panting, only glancing up briefly when the door opens and shuts. He scrambles to sit up but you can tell he’s struggling, his abs tensing with every breath he takes.

“Oh babe, are you alright?”

Dropping your bags at the front door, you rush to his side and kneel on the ground next to where he is strewn across the sofa. You press the back of your hand to his clammy cheek and coo, your other hand tangling in his unruly hair and combing it away from his forehead. He doesn’t uncover his eyes but his breathing is so heavy you worry something is seriously wrong with him.

“Kakashi, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need to go to urgent care?”

He shakes his head and groans, chest still heaving and you notice the tip of his cock peeking above the waistband of his boxers. It looks the same as you remember it in every way except for the color - so red, as if it’s blushing to be spotted and leaking a pool of sticky pre-cum onto the barely exposed skin his tank top isn’t covering. You know the two of you have been too busy the last several days to spend much quality time together and sex hasn’t been possible but you’ve never seen someone so horny they’re actually ill because all current signs point to that being the exact issue.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Embarrassment keeps him from opening up. Kakashi is ashamed of who he is, a beast more than a man, and he’s even more ashamed that he has no way of keeping the secret from you any longer. This rut is too strong and he needs you to leave lest his instincts take over his logic. Pulling his arm from over his eyes, he tries to sit up and you assist him to the best of your ability, his cock throbbing through the thin fabric of his boxers and catching your eye despite your attempts to focus on his handsome face. His stormcloud colored eyes have never looked more tumultuous than they do right now and you reach out to cup his face, only for him to gently grasp your wrist and pull you away.

“Don’t touch me.”

The look on your face, brows pinched and mouth agape, reminds him that he’s a monster and not a man and he should have never brought you into his life. The only thing he can do is hurt you. His grip on your wrist is gentle and he loosens it further but you capture his hand in your own, eyes brimming with tears of frustration.

“Please tell me what’s happening,” your voice cracks as you speak and you feel warm tears spill down your face, irritated by your own ability to hold it together, but your worst fears are coming true in front of you. Something is off about your boyfriend, you were right, and now he’s denying your touch when he clearly needs it. “I just want to know the truth.”

The truth would be a heavy burden for both of you and the last thing he wants to do is force you to carry it with him despite the pleading look in your eyes and your quivering bottom lip.

“What are you hiding from me?”

Your voice cracks again and his heart breaks all over, gray eyes trained on your face despite his disgust with himself. Despite the tears and the way they blur your vision, you scan his face and drink in every feature because despite how you feel right now, you love this man. You were hoping to tell him so this week, tucked away in the idyllic countryside, and now you feel the dream slipping away from you.

“Are you married? Do you have another life?”

Desperation for the truth makes your hands shake and he shakes his head, blowing a breath out of his lips. He continues to feel so hot it’s painful, like he’s burning alive, and he is resisting inhaling and choosing to breathe through his mouth instead to keep from catching your scent that is gradually replacing all of the fresh air in the apartment.

Allowing you to hold his hand, he sits forward and looks you in the eyes. If his gut feeling is real, if what he believes about you is true, then he needs to be honest. If you are his mate then you’ll understand. His voice shakes when he speaks and you scoot forward on your knees, closing the distance between your bodies as much as possible, still kneeling on the floor next to him.

“I think I should be offended that you’d even think that about me.”

Despite yourself, you laugh and he hides a smile of his own, eyes darting away from you. He pulls you up to your feet and scoots over on the couch, hissing as you occupy his space even further. You are affecting him more strongly than you ever have and his self control thins with every moment that passes.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know what else to think. The weeks away, the secrecy, all of it…my mind has filled in the blanks I don’t understand.”

Kakashi nods. He understands, he truly does, knowing that his behavior has been less than exemplary while he has tried to keep his secret from you, but he wants to right his wrong while his mind is still clear. His cock throbs angrily, still pressing against the bottom of his stomach even while he sits, and he knows it’s now or never.

“This is going to sound ridiculous but I’m not what you think I am.”

Tilting your head to the side, you look over your handsome boyfriend and wonder what he could mean. Is he lying about his job or where he’s from? He can tell you aren’t following so he looks away from you and tries again, spitting out the words he himself has tried to run from his entire life.

“I’m only half a man, the other half of me is something else entirely.”

Again, you look lost and he grasps your hands in his own hot ones and chuckles, letting his eyes shut.

“Werewolf. I’m a werewolf.”

He opens his eyes at the sound of your surprised laughter and he’s met with the smile he has found himself falling more in love with every single day, your nose scrunching the way he finds utterly adorable.

“Kakashi…” you start but he squeezes your hands and shoots you a look so earnest you feel guilty for ever questioning him. His cheeks have turned from pink to flaming red, the same color as the engorged tip that is still peeking out over the top of his boxers. Your jaw drops and he groans, eyes falling to your lips.

“What is happening right now is called a rut and unbonded men like me go through them occasionally.” You nod, understandingly. You are always unfailingly kind and patient to him, more so than he deserves for lying to you all these months. He takes your silence as permission to keep speaking and you remove your hand from his to push his sweat slicked hair off of his forehead, noticing the way his nostrils flare with your touch. “Mine have been happening more frequently than that, though, because of you.”

He expects to have lost you again and to see confusion on your face when his eyes flit up to look at you but instead he sees a sweet, almost nervous, half smile. You don’t know what he means or how you could possibly be affecting his rut but the insinuation that you have this strong of an impact on him is flattering to say the least.

Arousing too, you think while pressing your thighs together. Your focus shifts from the heat in your own core to Kakashi and you lean your head on his shoulder.

“How can I help you through this?”

Your boyfriend is far from shocked that this is your next question for him but he’s grateful, shaking his head and gazing at you nervously from the corner of his eye. You have been surprisingly okay with everything so far, or at least it seems like it, but he worries how you’ll react if he tells you everything.

“Well, ruts are usually resolved by…well, for lack of a better word, mating.” Nodding, you keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder. “It’s not just, you know, having sex like we usually do. It’s more than that.”

You shift where you sit and he watches you intently, gasping when you move to straddle him and sit on top of his thighs. His bulge presses against your core and you hum, still combing your fingers through his hair. Those instincts he was dreading continue to work at him, his mind all but overwhelmed with the sight and scent of you, and his mouth fills with saliva.

“I can handle a few days of fucking if that’s what will make you feel better,” you smile and press a kiss to his forehead, his hands finding their way to your hips and holding them tightly. His grip is harsher than he has ever touched you but it doesn’t hurt, it’s simply anchoring you in place. “But if that’s not all, I will do anything you need.”

He chuckles lowly, the sound sexy and ringing in your ears, and you instinctively grind down on his lap to relieve the tension of your own arousal. It doesn’t take much to turn you on, not when it comes to him, but the mystery of what you have to look forward to makes your head swim.

“I, uh…well, I’d need to knot you.”

Your eyebrows raise and your eyes glisten with mischief watching him search for the right thing to say.

“What does that entail?”

Again he sighs, cock throbbing painfully, and you press your lips to his forehead again. He holds you in place to keep your hips from grinding or bumping against him. His mind is growing fuzzier with each passing second and he doesn’t need the encouragement of your luscious hips to turn him into something he can’t explain away with a conversation. He’s teetering on the edge of it anyway.

“You’re familiar with my dick, of course, but when I’m rutting it’s different. It’s…” He trails off again and you reach down between your bodies, snapping the elastic waistband of his boxers. You smirk, the little temptress that you are, and he groans in defeat.

“Show me.”

Despite his brain telling him not to, he nods, happy to bend to your whims as long as you’re okay with what you see. He shifts where he sits, keeping you anchored to his lap with one hand and he uses the other to pull his boxers down around his thighs. You gasp when you notice the thickened base, larger than you’ve ever seen it and swollen.

“This is your knot?”

He nods, eyes fixed on your face as you inspect the newest part of his anatomy, to you anyway, and he’s relieved to see nothing but curiosity on your face. Your hand drifts back between your bodies and you squeeze the base of him, his knot almost too large for your hand to wrap around, and his hips buck into the touch. He pants, chest heaving with each breath, but you keep your grip intact.

“So let me make sure I have this right,” you start and he nods to indicate that he’s listening despite the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling at your touch, lower lip tucked between his teeth. “You need to knot your mate to get through this and feel better?”

He nods again, happy that he doesn’t have to explain the gory details and that you were able to fill in the blanks on your own.

“Do you know who your mate is? Is it someone I need to go find for you?”

Shaking his head, his brows furrow.

“You are my mate. That’s the only explanation why my body is reacting like this to everything about you.”

His voice sounds strained, struggling to hold onto his humanity with each passing second. You mercifully let go of his knot, the relief on his face disappearing when you do, and you lean forward, just inches from his lips.

“Then fuck your mate and feel better, baby.”

Sealing your offer by pressing your lips against his, you’re shocked to find that they’re as hot as his hands, his body, his cheeks, but they feel like home to you and the sloppy sound of your tongues running against one another in open mouthed kisses fill your ears. His grip on your hip tightens and he does his best to remain gentle as he slides you off of his lap and places you on your back on the sofa below you. He pauses for a moment to glance over your face, to be absolutely certain that you still want this, and you smile at him.

Reaching for the button of your jeans, he helps you slide them off and tosses them across the room, your panties coming off with them and the rest of your clothes in short order. He wants to shred them, to see the pieces fall and flutter away from your beautiful body, but he holds himself back.

This is just the beginning of his rut, after all, and the two of you are bound to have a very interesting week ahead of you so he savors this moment, the first that he can be who he really is in front of someone he loves.

It’s freeing and terrifying but his cock is throbbing so painfully he can’t focus on anything else.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?”

You nod when he slots himself between your spread legs, his boxers and tank top gone. Your cunt pulses at the sight of him, walls clenching almost painfully around nothing as you look at the size of his knot and wonder how you’re meant to fit it inside of you, but he quiets your wandering mind by leaning down and pressing his chest to yours, kissing you sloppily.

“God I love you,” he mutters and you hum in agreement.

His mouth is wetter than it ever has been, a side effect of his current state, and saliva drips down both of your chins and drips into the valley between your breasts. You moan into his mouth and your hips cant and grind against his erection that slips into the cleft between your pussy lips and he feels himself slipping further and further into the basest of his needs, the warm slick seeping from your cunt a nectar he can no longer resist.

Kakashi’s fingers slide down your body, dragging through the pool of saliva between your breasts, down your torso, across your belly button, and finally down to your aching pussy. He makes himself useful quickly, one of his long digits replacing his cock and running through your soaked folds. You whine, hips bucking, and he increases the pressure of his finger as he slides it over your slippery clit.

“My pretty little mate is so eager for me, huh?”

Nodding dumbly, you spread your legs further hoping he’ll take the hint to get moving to where you need him the most. Your eyes dart from his face to where his finger slowly slides inside of you, warmth accommodating the digit with ease thanks to how soaked you are, and sweet relief washes over you. Tipping your head back, you softly moan beneath him while he works you open for him - he’ll need all the help he can get if you’re going to take his knot, and a second finger joins the first while his thumb massages your clit just the way you like.

“Oh baby, you feel so good.”

You nod and hum, hips grinding into every thrust of his fingers in and out of you, the sound of your own sloppy pussy making your breaths stutter. Who would have guessed you’d be so into finding out your boyfriend’s not so little secret?

His fingers continue to spread you open, shifting and grinding against the spot deep inside he knows drives you wild, and you know you’re about to cum for the first time tonight when his thumb grinds small circles directly into your sensitive clit. Your back arches off of the couch and you clench around his fingers, mumbling his name. His lips find yours, chests still pressed together, and you whimper into his mouth while your legs shake.

Withdrawing his fingers from inside of you, he holds them up and spreads them apart, breaking away from your lips long enough to let you look at the slick that webs between them when he does. You gasp, his fingers glistening with your arousal, and he smirks.

“Think you’re wet enough for me now. Gonna stuff you full of me, is that what you want?”

Nodding, you shiver, catching a glimpse of the hunger in his eyes. He’s the same man you love and have known for all this time but there’s a hunger you can’t wait to sate dancing in his eyes. Your cunt clenches again, finally ready for more after your orgasm, and he reaches between your bodies to position himself at your entrance.

The first inch isn’t anything you aren’t used to but you still gasp as he slides himself inside of you, your nails digging into his shoulder while his blunt head prods at your eager cunt, slipping inside with ease. He sinks deeper and deeper and you gasp breathlessly when he stops just short of the inflamed knot at the base of his cock.

“Can’t go all the way in, not yet,” he explains, grinding his hips and guiding them to make sure the head of his cock brushes against the same spot his fingers were just working. You are breathless, wordless, and completely overwhelmed, deciding to let him have his way with you however he needs. His hands travel the expanse of your waist, settling on either side of it, thumbs brushing the underside of each of your breasts that bounce slightly with each movement he makes.

He isn’t satisfied keeping his hands at your waist, though, and one travels back down your stomach and rests in the hair covering your mound. He loves the feeling of the hair between his fingers and he stretches his hand so that his thumb brushes against your clit, maintaining steady pressure on the bud while he grinds and thrusts in and out of you.

“Baby,” you coo from beneath him and he smirks, leaning forward enough to fold your legs up against your sides. Your thighs are pressed against your torso and your knees rest by your ears, the shift in position making you groan, shocked at how deep he is despite the whole of him not even being inside of you. “Need it all, Kakashi, please.”

How can he deny you when you ask so sweetly and he’s so close to cumming himself?

Shifting his own position so that he is practically mounting you, the front of his thighs pressed to the backs of yours. It feels like you can hardly breathe with how he has you folded but you don’t mind, succumbing to the mind numbing pleasure of the additional inches of him slowly sinking inside of you.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

You nod, licking your lips, and he continues to push what remains of his cock inside of you. His hips grind and shift and you do your best to lift your own to meet him but he stills you with the hand spread over your pelvis, pressing directly on your clit while you stretch to accommodate his knot that slowly slips inside of you.

The stretch is delicious and your lashes flutter against your cheek, eyes rolling back into your skull. He thrusts shallowly, not wanting to release his knot from your warmth, but he gives in quickly and withdraws his knot. You gasp at the loss of the fullness but he’s quick to rectify his wrong, slipping his knot back into you in a quick motion that leaves you breathless.

“Full,” you spit out with a nod and he chuckles, dipping his head to kiss you again.

“Not as full as I’d like you to be but soon.”

You giggle and kiss him back, his grunts and pants against your lips making you whimper. He’s so sexy and you’re so full of him, your head spinning when his grunts increase in a way you know means that he’s close. His cock spasms inside of you and his thumb doubles down on its ceaseless pace on your clit, his knot swelling as he groans and fills you with his release. His knot remains swollen and keeps his cock in place, the warmth of his spend filling your pussy.

Reaching for his face, you grab both of his cheeks and kiss him, his thumb still rubbing idle circles on your clit until your hips jerk and the sensation becomes too much.

“I love you,” you return his earlier sentiment with a smile against his mouth. He smiles and kisses you back, the two of you afraid to part and technically unable with his engorged knot still inside of you.

“We have to stay like this for a little while,” he explains and you nod, eyes glossy and body limp. “Instincts say I have to make it take even if we both know it won’t.”

Smiling, you keep your grip on his face and kiss him again.

“Do you feel better?”

He nods, sighing contentedly.

“For now but we have a long week ahead of us and the full moon is on Friday.”

Dots connect in your head and you giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist while he gradually shifts and rests his head on your chest.

“Good thing we’ll be all alone in the woods then, huh?”

Kakashi chuckles and nods, kissing you between your breasts.

“My thoughts exactly.”

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #thot-o-ween 2023 #monster mash 2023 #kendall writes #cw knotting #cw mating

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