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#start racing in the grass
rozecrest · 4 months
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kevin is a born romantic like the way chiron FALLS back into his bed after he calls him because a man who looked like him played a love song on a jukebox and chiron is immediately having erotic dreams about him bathed in yellow light again
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welcometoteyvat · 1 year
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co-op is crazy bc in the same co op session you can immediately click with someone and then find out the other rando who joined might be a racist
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violet-dragongirl · 1 year
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Did my first Formula C practice, qualify, and race and got first place!
The team i'm with is in 3rd though. Teammate AI driver didn't do so hot (which is fine like, small steps to getting Team Gold and all)
I'm surprised I picked up the pacing quite quickly though I'm still having trouble starting when there's cars all around me (ANXIETY :'] ), but I'm gonna get the hang of the AI settings I placed in as well as might change them to better suit how I want to play this game (mostly chill but do wanna win so it's on a fairly easy difficulty setting).
The thing I'm also adjusting is like...the screen I'm using now isn't the screen I used to play this game on and it's smaller width wise so everything feels SO DAMNED CLOSE when it also really ain't.
As far as the tuning mechanics go, I'm just gonna leave the tyres up to the pc to figure out mostly (like...Unless there's a VERY specific way to have the tyres pressure and...agh I forgot the second important setting), but in general It's gonna have to be a Per Car/Per Track/Per Weather basis.
I'm gonna hate wet/rainy weather so goddamn much >.<
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dreamingcricket · 8 months
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politely requesting either halsin or astarion with a tav/reader who like..shrugs off their advances bc they don’t think someone like either of them would take interest in them. like very oblivious to the fact that people actually like them. (totally not self indulgent lmao) ((i love mutual pining to lovers i-))
CW: Mild sexual content, reader is injured
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Astarion has started to question whether this is your way of gently rebuffing him, or you're actually this dense.
He's not a subtle flirt. He uses all his most seasoned tricks, exhausts every overture he can think of. He can't remember wanting anyone this much. And yet, every one of his suggestive quips is laughed off.
He's there in the morning, sliding in beside you as you drink your tea. "Good morning, beautiful. You're looking absolutely radiant today." He runs a finger down your arm. When you blush and smile back, something warms in the pit of his stomach.
He's there as you put on your armour. "Allow me, dove." And as he tightens the straps on your mantle, he lets his fingers brush the underside of your jaw. "There. Just right." He purrs into your ear.
And of course, when he feeds. He takes his time, pulling you close, cradling your head, running his fingers through your hair. He nuzzles into your neck before he bites, pressing his lips against your rabbiting pulse for just a moment longer than he should.
Even in battle, when he's swiftly at your back, flashing you brilliant smiles as he races to your defense, you jovially thank him, like you do all your companions. Like he's your friend. Just your friend.
All efforts so far, completely ignored.
So now he watches you from across camp, the firelight dancing across your features as you laugh (he tries to ignore the tender stirring in his chest at the sound).
He throws back his glass of wine, and grimaces at the pitying glances of his compatriots. Of course it was obvious to anyone except you.
You stood, bid Wyll and Karlach goodnight, but instead of disappearing into your tent, you vanished into the brush.
Astarion sat for a long moment. He should let you go. You clearly weren't interested, and he should just... move on. Like he always had.
Who are you kidding, you fool?
He didn't care that he startled Gale with his speed and he pursued you into the woods.
You were seated on a rock, your face turned up toward a shaft of moonlight, eyes closed. He stopped to admire you.
"Sorry I took off. I just wanted to enjoy the quiet."
"I'll go, if you want me to."
You start, and turn towards his voice. "Astarion, didn't expect you."
"Were you expecting someone?"
"No... just-
He's suddenly surging forward without thought, and the two of you are rolling across the grass.
"Astarion, what the fu-"
He silences you with a burning kiss, brimming with anger and desperation. You roll him onto his back, furiously returning his advance. "What-" you pant between kisses. "-took you so long, idiot."
He's furiously tugging at your linen shirt, baring your back and shoulders. You'd be angry if you weren't still reeling.
"You never flirted back!" He pins you down, only to find his hips locked between your legs.
"I flirt constantly, Astarion! You drink my blood every night! I've been waiting for you to take the next step for weeks!" Now it's you tearing at his shirt, your hands groping for purchase on his shoulders. "I thought you didn't think of me like that." Now it's your lips against his neck, and he chokes on a moan.
"That's not flirting!" He's never been this heated during sex. He's a collected lover, and for all the inherent violence of his existence, he realizes - he wants to be gentle. At least this time.
He takes your hands in his and stills your thrashing. You lock eyes, both of you out of breath, chests heaving. He places a single, gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. "Shall we begin again, love?"
"I'd like that."
"My name's Astarion. You are a truly stunning creature," he leans down, and whispers to you, "... and I'd very much like to make love to you tonight."
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Halsin thinks you are quite possibly the most extraordinary person he's ever met.
 
He can't erase the image of you the first time he saw you from his mind, eyes ablaze, arcane power crackling at your fingertips. 
He's had so many partners, but all of his love affairs were brief, transient. Deep, but nothing had ever moved him like this. Typically, Halsin is straightforward with his feelings. His passing dalliances with fellow druids and traveling rangers had never daunted him. But with you, making his feelings known was... complicated.
You'd been through a significant trauma, and while you put on a quite the brave face, ever the intrepid leader, he's been around long enough to see your fragility. You'd seen so many horrors in such a short amount of time. Emotions were running high, he wouldn't risk coming on too strong.
So instead... he brought you gifts. It was a very natural way to court someone, at least. Baskets of berries, a fresh catch from the river, perhaps they're gifts to his own taste, but he hopes you'll enjoy them.
He offered to braid your hair, to help ease the tension in your shoulders with a massage in the evenings (his hands are absolutely enormous, which certainly helps). 
And, unbeknownst to the rest of the camp, and to his mild shame, he couldn't help but rub his scent near your tent. He wouldn't invade your boundaries and touch your things, but he couldn't help his instincts. Lae'zel noticed at last, but only scoffed and offhandedly remarked, "The way you dance around your affections is pathetic. Tell them, or stop simpering."
Things eventually came to a head when you were injured, badly. The arrow tore through your side, and you hit the ground before you could register you'd been shot, the world became pain and a blur of color and noise. 
Halsin was by your side in a heartbeat, shielding you with his frame as spells and arrows flew overhead.
"Don't move little one, you're losing blood." He sounded calm, but there was a tremor in his voice. You'd never seen him afraid before.
"Halsin..."
"Shh, shh. Hold still." His magic flows through you, and the muscles in your side knit back together as he pulls the arrow free.
"Halsin." Your hand lifted to weakly brush his cheek. Your vision was swimming. 
The thunderous roar of battle magic echoed nearby. Gale rushed towards you. "Are they alright?"
"They will be." Halsin spoke it like an oath. "But they're weak." 
"We'll finish this, get them to safety!"
Halsin cradled your body to his chest and barreled off the battlefield. You drifted in and out of consciousness, but were always aware of his arms around you. They felt like safety. Like home.
The druid ducks behind a half destroyed wall, and begins to reassess your wound. "Gods, you frightened me." He lays you down carefully, head in his lap, and begins to clean the wound. 
You smile up at him. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me."
"I like this."
He's puzzled. "Being horribly injured?"
"Being held by you." 
At that moment, your body finally gave out, and your vision went black. 
When you woke, bandaged and sore, in your tent, Halsin was sitting by your bedroll with his back to you. Recalling in horror the confession you'd made, you try to pretend you were still asleep. 
"I know you're awake, little one." 
You sigh. "I'm... about what I said, I'm sorry. I know you don't feel that way, and-" 
"Stop." He turned and placed a finger against your lips. "No more words." 
You braced for his rejection. At least the druid was kind, empathetic. Or perhaps his pity would make it worse. 
His lips coming down on yours were not what you expected. He was gentle, and smelled of moss and pretrichor, dark soil and sweat. You kissed him back, laughing into his mouth. 
He pulls away, then presses his forehead to yours. "I'm here. As long as you'll have me." 
"Oh, I intend to." Your attempt to sit up is hampered by a shock of pain from your wound. "Ow. Shit."
Halsin guides you back down to your pillows. "All in good time, little one."
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rafesaddiction · 8 months
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Hole Practice (or: Golf Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: You want to learn how to golf better. Rafe teaches you a different kind of lesson. Rafe's pov
Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, sorta toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spanking, rough sex, fingering, anal (first time), oral (rafe receiving), p in v, cream pie, degrading (reader is called whore by rafe), daddy kink, mean!rafe, bratty!reader, dom!rafe
Word count: 4.3k
“Hey, ain't that your girl, Rafe?”
“What?” Rafe put down the bottle of water he was drinking from and looked at Topper, then his gaze wandered to where Topper was pointing at.
“Over there. The one that is holding up everyone at hole 9.”
“Fucking hell,” Rafe grumbled under his breath when he spotted you. Several hundred yards away, there you stood with a golf club in hand, bending down to place the ball on the ground.
“She got a terrible swing but a real nice ass, real nice.” Kelce snickered and Rafe's head spun round, glaring at him.
Kelce defensively lifted his hands and slowly walked backwards. “Hey dude, chill. I'm just saying those shorts suit her nicely, just paying compliments. Respectfully.”
Rafe tossed the water bottle away, clenching his fists, stomping forward, every muscle in his body tensed up. He was frowning as he felt hot rage coursing through his veins. Rafe was about to beat the living shit out of one of his best friends when a sound made him stop and turn your way again. The wind had carried the sound of your laughter over to him. And Rafe watched you giggle and joke around with some guy, your caddie from the looks of it.
Rafe's hands balled into fists as he watched the two of you talk. That guy had put down the golf bag he was carrying for you and stepped closer. Stepped very close. Too close. He stood behind you, directly behind you, with your ass only covered by those ridiculously tiny shorts pressing against his crotch as his arms wrapped around you, his hands on yours, holding the golf club.
Rafe let out an angry scream that wasn't even a real curse and ran over to the golf cart, got in and started driving over the hilly course towards you.
“Yeah, man, take the fucking cart, so we have to walk!” Topper yelled behind Rafe, but Rafe didn't even bother to turn around. “Fucking unbelievable,” were the last words he heard from Topper, and Kelce's snickering in response. Rafe's hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles showing white on his right hand, his other hand coverd by his golf glove.
He drove at full speed, which wasn't that fast with this damn golf cart, but at least faster than running. Racing over the greens, he didn't pay attention whether he was interrupting other people's games. His gaze was fixed on you and that fucking caddie that was practically dry humping you on the golf course.
The cart came to a halt close to you, Rafe jumped off, took a club from the bag at the back and stormed towards you and the caddie, raising the club, fuming with rage.
You and the caddie turned, looking at Rafe stunned and shocked. While you opened your mouth to say something to Rafe, the caddie muttered a curse, his eyes widened as he saw Rafe with the golf club swinging at him. The guy quickly pushed you out of the way, so you fell on the ground, landing on the grass, while he ran, ran as fast as he could with a yelling Rafe chasing him. And Rafe would've gotten him, would have beaten him to death, if it wasn't for your whining noises that made him stop and turn, lower his golf club and walk back to you.
Rafe was towering you, casting his long shadow over you, as you were sitting on the ground, rubbing your ass on which you obviously had fallen, looking up at your tall boyfriend with large eyes.
“I'm hurt,” you mouthed and sniffled.
Rafe grunted, reached down and picked you up. With so much vigor that you practically crashed against his chest. Bracing yourself, your hands touched Rafe's heaving chest, felt those tense muscles underneath the fabric of his expensive polo shirt. You looked up at him with big eyes. He clenched his jaws and his large hands gripped your hips as he held you close. He was still fuming with rage.
“What the hell were you doing?”
You lowered your head, then looked up, with just your eyes.
“I was just practicing holes.”
Rafe's eyebrows raised and he almost choked.
“You what?”
Your eyes went to his chest and your finger was idly drawing circles on Rafe's shirt. You shrugged and innocently explained, “I’m taking some practice lessons. I wanted to get better at golf, so that you would take me with you when you and the boys play.”
You stopped your drawings on Rafe's chest and looked up at him with pouty lips.
“Are you mad at me?”
Instead of answering, Rafe growled and frowned.
You smirked at him, you cocky little brat.
“What are you wearing anyway? Every bastard on this course is staring at your ass.”
“Don't you like my golf outfit, Rafey?” You knew he hated it when you called him that and you did it anyway. His jaws clenched.
You wore a collared blue shirt but instead of a matching skirt or proper golf shorts, you wore the tiniest shorts possible, tightly snugging your curves, barely covering your panties.
“This is no proper outfit for golfing. Those shorts scream ‘fuck me'.”
Rafe's right hand slapped hard on your exposed ass cheek, surely leaving his hand print.
You flinched and winced, then pouted, and struggled to free yourself from Rafe’s grip, but he was stronger and pulled you closer and slapped your ass again. His palm tingled, and from the look on your face, your cheek must be burning.
His fingers grabbed your chin to lift your face as he leaned down.
“I’m gonna teach you holes now,” he whispered, darkly, close to your lips.
Your cheeks flushed. He grinned devilishly. With all your bratty behavior and cockiness, Rafe was still able to make you blush. His mouth claimed yours in a hungry kiss, tongue pushing in, he took what was his, as he held your body close.
When he let go, your cheeks were still flushed, your lips swollen and you were slightly out of breath.
“Since you have chased my caddie away, you will have to carry my golf bag,” you announced and turned to look for your ball.
Rafe grumbled but shouldered the damn golf bag and followed you.
“Where's that damn thing anyway?” He asked when he had caught up with you.
“There,” you pointed at the gorse.
Rafe exhaled. “We're not getting it out of there. Just take a new one.”
“No, that would be cheating, I'm gonna get it.”
“Y/n, fucking don't!”
But you ignored his words and stomped onwards, right into the gorse – and with every step you took, your ass was bouncing invitingly.
“Fuck's sake,” Rafe grumbled and followed you.
He found you bent over, legs straight, head down, ass up, hands touching the high grass, looking for your ball.
Rafe's own balls tightened at the sight. That perky ass, those tiny shorts hardly covering anything, that red mark on your bare skin – he had been correct, his hand print was showing.
His growl made you turn your head at him, but not lift your upper body.
“I think I've found it, but it's stuck.”
Rafe grumbled, walked closer. Walking with his dick getting harder was damn uncomfortable.
“Fuck's sake,” he repeated.
“What?” You asked innocently, wriggling your fine ass.
“Enough,” Rafe barked and you flinched at his harsh tone.
Before you could get up, he grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and his hand smacked your ass several times, making you mewl. Rafe carried you out of the gorse, over the greens to the golf cart.
“Ouch,” you mouthed and pulled a face as you were seated on your ass, sore from his spanking.
He got in the cart, sat behind the steering wheel and shot you a sideways glance. His eyes narrowed.
“Stop complaining, that was nothing yet.”
“Where are we going?” You sniffled.
“To the club,” he stated tersely. He knew he wouldn't make it back home to Tanny Hill, with his dick already achingly hard. A room at the club would do, and he knew there would always be one available – the perks of being a premium member.
“But what about my lessons?” You looked at Rafe, sulking.
“Oh, your lessons ain't over yet.”
He could see you nibbling at your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous or excited or both.
While he was driving across the course, he tried to look where he was going, but you kept on wriggling in your seat, which was fucking irritating.
“Stop that!” He faced you briefly and lifted his hand, a warning gesture.
“Sorry, daddy,” you said sweetly, leaned forward, and your mouth covered Rafe's finger. Sucking on it, you looked at him with large eyes, your lips closed tightly around the digit, your tongue swirling around it.
“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Rafe almost ran over some gaffer – not that he would've cared.
Rafe tried to get back on track while his cock was pulsing. You took his hand, guided it between your legs, rubbing over your thighs as you spread them. His hand touched the fabric of those damn shorts, and Rafe could feel that you were already soaking wet, those layers of clothing couldn't even hide that.
You began moaning as you were rubbing his hand against your core.
He pulled it away, raised it, finger pointing, and glared at you angrily.
“Don't!”
You pouted, crossed your arms in front of your chest and looked away. But Rafe grabbed your jaw forcefully, turning your face to look at him, pressing harder than necessary, which made you wince and gaze at him.
“You don't touch yourself unless I allow you. You know the rules.”
He kept his eyes on you while still driving.
“You hear me?” His voice loud and intimidating.
You cast your eyes down and mumbled, “Yes, daddy.”
His cock twitched in his pants, which were getting too damn tight by now.
When he let go, you added, hardly audible, “But I didn't touch myself, it was your hand…”
You probably thought that he didn't hear that as he didn't react to it right away, but he did hear it, and it drove him fucking insane. And you would experience soon enough how mad he was because of you.
Rafe parked the golf cart close to entrance of the main building, got out, grabbed your arm, so hard he would leave bruises, and dragged you along with him. You could hardly keep up, he was walking so quickly, and with his tall legs, he was able to make longer strides.
At the reception no one questioned why Rafe was holding you in such a tight grip while you were obviously struggling to escape. He asked for the key card to a room and he got it and on top of that, the receptionist wished him a pleasant day. Rafe growled in response.
He shoved you towards the elevator and got inside with you. It cost him a lot not to ravish you the moment the doors closed. The grip around your arm was iron. When the doors opened, he pushed you out, along the corridor to the room. After opening it with the key card, he forcefully pushed you inside. You stumbled and almost fell, but caught yourself on the edge of the king-size bed.
Right after he had let go off you, he started to undress himself, pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes.
“Take off those goddamn shorts and get on the bed. Now.” His commanding voice left you no choice but to obey. You looked at him, eyes wandering over his naked body as you undressed yourself, taking the shorts together with the panties off last. He frowned at you, but your eyes were on his rock hard cock that he was stroking, while glaring at you.
You climbed onto the bed. Impatiently, he walked over and grabbed you, moved you around as he wanted to have you, flipping you over, then pulling your body up, so you were on all fours now, while he kneeled behind your spread legs.
Rafe leaned over your body, his chest touching your back, his hand grabbed your throat, forcing your head up, a restrained sound coming from your opened mouth.
“You gonna be a good whore, right?” He cooed into your ear.
With his free hand, he guided his hard length between your legs, rubbing it along your dripping wet slit, covering it nicely in your juices. You mewled and started wriggling.
“Please,” you moaned, already so needy.
He turned your face to shut those desperate moans with his greedy kiss, while his cock was replaced by his fingers, which where rubbing along your slit, parting your folds, but never quite entering and never touching your clit. You were so incredibly wet, his fingers were practically dripping as he pulled them away and sat up behind you, letting go off your throat, leaving you with a confused look on your face.
“I still need to teach you a lesson.”
You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but Rafe continued, a sardonic grin on his face.
“The lesson is: If you wear such tiny shorts, hardly covering your ass, but showing it off, inviting everyone to fuck it, you get fucked up the ass, like the whore you are.”
“But –” you started to complain, but a slap of his hand on your ass made you cry out instead.
Despite it being such a fine piece of flesh, Rafe had never fucked your ass before, only put a finger or two inside your tight hole once or twice. You didn't have proper training yet, but you needed to learn that your teasing had consequences.
He spat on his already wet fingers and stroked between your ass cheeks. You whined, but he knew that it was a sound you made when you were impatient. You wouldn't have to wait long – though it wasn't what you actually waited for, he knew that. Rafe gripped you by the hip, as his fingers pushed against your back entrance. Your muscle was tense and instead of opening up for him, it closed. Rafe growled and he felt your body shudder. His grip got firmer, preventing you from retreating as his index finger pushed inside, stretching your tight ring.
“It hurts, daddy,” you whined and craned your neck to look back at Rafe.
He slowly moved his finger back and forth inside you. Your breathing hitched as he curled that finger in your tight hole. Your muscle was clenching so hard around his digit, it almost made it impossible to move it.
He let go off your hip to hit your ass cheek.
“Relax! Or it'll just hurt more.”
Your answer was a whining sound and you let your head hang between your shoulders.
Rafe pushed your legs further apart to get better access, pressed on your lower back and you obeyed by arching your back nicely. He grinned at the sight. You were completely exposed to him and at his mercy.
He pulled his finger out, only to push back in two fingers, thrusting deep and hard.
You let out a scream and started begging.
“Daddy, daddy, please,” you whined.
His fingers fucking your ass, he let his hard cock teasingly brush along your pussy, never applying too much pressure, just enough to tease you. When he pulled back, his cock was covered in your wetness.
“So wet for me. Such a needy whore you are.”
His fingers left your hole, the tight muscle pulsing invitingly. He rubbed some more spit on it and felt you shiver under his touch.
He took his cock in his hand, guiding it, stroking your round ass cheeks with it, before pressing the wet tip against your throbbing little hole.
“You gonna take it like the good whore you are, hm? Your my little whore, right?”
You mewled and panted.
He waited.
“Daddy, daddy,” you whined.
Then he heard you inhale and exhale deeply, pushing your ass up, that little hole twitched and opened up, inviting him in, and he pushed in.
You cried out as his cock's thick head stretched your tender muscle. He needed both his hands now to grip your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place, as he greedily watched his thick cock slowly pushing into your fine ass.
Your screaming turned into an irregular whimpering as the thick head was practically sucked into your ass.
“So, good,” Rafe praised you, his own breathing heavy. “You're doing so good, baby, taking me so good. Such a good whore.”
His thumb caressed your hip, he felt you relax just the tiniest bit. He tensed up, tightened his grip again and thrust his hip forward, making your body almost jump forward by the force, if he hadn't held you that firmly.
He growled as your walls clenched around his cock, but he pushed deeper. Pulling back, he gasped as your sensitive muscle was clamping so hard around his thick cock.
“So good, baby,” he said under heavy breathing.
He pushed in, watching with greedy fascination how his too big cock vanished inch by inch into your perfect ass, stretching your too tight hole mercilessly.
“Daddy! I can't!” You cried out, sobbing now.
“You can and you will.”
He began moving in a steady rhythm, fucking your tight ass good and hard. He didn't push too hard though, knowing well what you could take. You were sobbing and crying and whining, but he didn't stop, he knew your body better than you did, and he knew that you could do this. Your little protests, your screams and moans and whimpers made him only go harder.
He couldn't get it all in though, you were too tight and not trained, and he was too big. Part of him got angry about that, but you felt so damn good, he could use you so damn well that it seemed enough.
Then he saw your hand move between your legs, you were desperately trying to touch yourself. But Rafe didn't let you.
He angrily growled, slapped your ass hard, making you flinch. Then he grabbed your hand by the wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and holding it there.
You cried out in pain.
“I told you not to do that!” He growled between clenched teeth. You were driving him mad, so fucking mad.
Your body shook and trembled under his hard thrusts as he took what was his, took you without mercy. Pounding you harder, his growing anger made him lose all restraint.
You were so tight, the friction was so intense, the sounds you made were so hot, Rafe felt his climax approaching and he didn't hold back. He felt his every muscle tense up, then let go, gasping for air, as he reached his orgasm, shooting his cum into you. His whole body electrified and in that post orgasmic bliss, he pushed again into your well-used hole, once, twice, driving his load deeper into you, before pulling out. When he let go off you, you just face down collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard, a fucking mess. He grinned at the sight of you.
“My whore,” he whispered into your ear, leaning down, kissing your damp hair, before he got up. His own breathing slowing down eventually.
Watching you lie there, and wriggle and pant, he knew you hadn't reached your climax yet.
“Don't you dare move”, his voice a dark command.
He waited for a moment. And this time it seemed you were actually listening, probably fearing the consequences. Had you learned your lesson after all? He doubted that, you were such a brat and would always be. Since you didn't move, just lay there panting, Rafe went into the adjoining bathroom to clean himself.
When he came back, you were lying in the same position on the bed, on your stomach, arms away from your body, legs apart, your body raising and falling from your exhausted breathing, cum dripping out of your hole between your reddened cheeks. Rafe grinned at the sight of the mess he had turned you into.
He sat down on the bed, still naked, back resting against the headboard, his legs on the bed, he was sitting next to you, not touching you, but you could definitely feel the bed tilt from his weight, feel his proximity, as he felt the heat radiating from your body.
You lifted your head, turned your face to gaze at him with teary eyes.
“You're such a mess,” he grinned at you, his hand caressing your face.
“Did you cum?” He asked, but already knew the answer.
You shook your head.
“You wanna cum?”
You nodded eagerly.
“Then you know what to do,” he simply said.
You got up on your knees next to him, sat down on your heels, flinching as they poked into your sore ass cheeks.
“Please daddy can I cum?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.
“And how do you wanna cum?” It wasn't a real question, more of a test.
Still, you seemed to contemplate the answer, biting your bottom lip. Your gaze turned to his cock, though not hard, still impressive. Then your eyes moved to his hands. Those hands that knew how to hold you, to touch you. Then your look was on his face. Yours was a beautiful mess. Your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, your eyes teary and bloodshot, tears and sweat had ruined your makeup and smeared mascara all over your face. God, you were so beautiful.
“With your cock inside me.”
The way you said those words, with such sincerity and almost solemn honesty, it made his cock twitch in response.
But words weren't enough.
“Then work for it.”
In an inviting, almost generous gesture, he pointed at his crotch.
You very willingly accepted the invitation, moved closer, bent over, and Rafe hissed as your greedy little mouth took in his thick cock, sucking hard at it, tongue swirling along the tip. One hand clasping the thick shaft, you steadied yourself with the other hand on his thigh. You gazed sideways up at him, when you began bobbing your head.
Rafe's breathing quickened, as he felt his cock growing in your mouth. His hands clutched the expensive bedsheets, stopping himself from forcing your head down further. You were already gagging on his length, not nearly half of it in your mouth.
Your efforts did some good, but he wasn't ready yet.
He grabbed you by the hair to pull you up, made you whimper, spit dripping from your swollen lips, as you were gazing at him.
“Ride it.”
His command made you freeze and visibly shudder, but you hurried to follow his order. As he let go off your hair, you straddled him, mewling when his thick length pressed against your sensitive core, too long neglected, it seemed.
He gripped your jaws hard, made you focus on him. His piercing eyes glaring at you.
“Don't you dare cum before I’m inside of you. Understood?”
You tried to nod, which was hard with his tight grip at your jaws, but your pleading eyes told him, you had understood him.
“Good.” He leaned forward to kiss you hard, before letting go and leaning back in the pillows.
Your hands ran over his muscular torso. You bit your lips, looking at his hard abs, as you began rocking your hips against him, your tits bouncing nicely. He grabbed them, kneaded them with both his hands, felt how you flinched and tensed up, as you felt his greedy hunger. His cock pulsing under you.
You closed your eyes, as if you would focus on the slick sounds your pussy made when slapping against his hard dick.
“Turn around.” Rafe's voice made your eyes flutter open. “Let me see that ass that you want the whole golf club to fuck. Let me see that ass that only belongs to me.”
Rafe added an encouraging slap on your ass to stress his command. He even helped you to turn, sit down, astride with your back to him, while you did nothing more than make those small needy sounds that drove him insane with lust.
His hand pushed on your upper back, making you bent down a bit, holding onto his legs.
He had the perfect view of your ass and pussy. His cum dripping from your ass mixing with your own wetness dripping from your pussy.
Two fingers dipped into your cunt, making you squirm and mewl and beg.
“Daddy…”
You clenched around his digits and he slapped your ass.
Pulling out his fingers, he lifted you up, pushed you into position, guiding his now rock hard cock to your pussy and pushed in. Rafe grabbed your hair to get you into an upright position again. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his hips rocked hard against yours, pushing his whole length into you as you sank down onto him.
“Rafe, Daddy, fuck,” you stammered, your whole body shuddered and you were completely undone, cumming all over his cock just from his first thrust into you.
And he fucked you through your high, not stopping when you were all spent. Using you over and over again.
You were such a good whore for him. And all your holes were his.
a/n: writing this was a lot of fun. i don't know shit about golf. thanks for reading. i hope you enjoyed it. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, and likes too! i've only been doing this for 2 weeks now and i'm kinda overwhelmed that my first x reader smut fic got over 1k notes! thank you all so much! i got ideas for many more fics. let me know what you'd like to read! p.s. happy kinktober!
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sixosix · 6 months
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aether (one of the) main character(s) in hit game genshin impact hits on you.
thank u sm for beta reading @mitsies i love u and your silly comments and insightful suggestions on googledocs, wc 700, NO ONE IS ACTUALLY DEAD
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“Holy—Archons!”
Anyone would be surprised if a body materialized from thin air right in front of you, lifeless like a doll. You stare at the body, thoughts racing as fast as your heartbeat, and all the while, the man with sun threads as hair lay eerily still on the ground, eyes fluttered shut.
The man is terrifyingly beautiful, like a fallen star. A limp and unmoving fallen star, that is. Your jaw extends to the ground, terrified and—mystified? Immediately, your instincts scream at you to perform emergency measures, but—
A pixie comes barreling in from somewhere, tears running down her cheeks as she zeroes in on the presumably dead body.
“Was he your friend?” you ask quietly, mourning on her behalf. Were they siblings? The way she’s slapping his face around seems so.
“He’s not dead!” the little pixie exclaims, sniffling and shaking the apparently not-dead body.
You stare at her, perplexed. “Then why are you crying?”
“Because Paimon had to go through that trial challenge alone!”
“The what?”
Paimon huffs, slamming her tiny fists on the man’s bare waist. It seems to not even have left a mark on his skin. “You wake him up. Paimon’s upset at him.”
It’s hard to say no when tears are rolling down her face. Obediently, you poke around the man’s shut eyes, and it snaps open.
You flinch back. He blinks blearily.
“Are you okay?” You study his face, looking for any signs of a newly born zombie, but his face looks flushed and as healthy as any living human being. His eyes are bright and gold as they stare back at you.
“I’m in heaven,” he says. “Celestia has done it. I’m seeing angels, and I’m in heaven.”
Angels? Celestia?
Paimon tackles his face, shaking his shoulders and crying. “You’re not dead, dummy! How dare you leave Paimon in Dragonspine! All alone, Aether!”
“Oh,” Aether says, sounding almost disappointed. “Then…?”
“You’re not dead,” you agree with Paimon, because evidence lies before you despite the initial fright. However, his comment about angels has you a little flustered. “Um, what happened?”
“Ah,” Aether laughs sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I failed the trial, and it respawned me back here. Which is weird—I haven’t been in Bubu Pharmacy for ages!”
“I’m sorry?”
Aether jumps to his feet, startling you enough to fall on your ass. He grins down at you and offers a hand. “At least I got to meet you,” he says, pulling you up from the grass. You stumble from his strength; he catches you easily, and you bump against his chest. “Or—not meet you yet. What’s your name?”
You can’t believe the previously perished fallen star is now hitting on you. “I’m… Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeats, smiling broadly. “I’ll remember that.”
You hope that your face doesn’t betray the warmth you feel fluttering under your skin.
Aether sighs, casting a glance at the ground he was previously lying on. “Sorry you had to see that. That was probably very disturbing and decidedly not flattering for me.”
You can’t help but laugh. Aether beams. “Does that happen often?”
“When I get a little rusty, yeah.” He tilts his head, looking at you up and down, then around your surroundings. “Do you work here? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Just recently.” You gesture vaguely to the side, feeling a little shy. “If you don’t see me hanging around, it’s probably because I’m always loitering the docks to watch out for exhausted tourists.”
Aether’s smile turns sly. “Nurse me back to health, would you?”
But then Paimon starts tugging on his ear and away from you, a relief for your racing heart. “Enough flirting! You can come back here after you unlock that precious chest!”
“Ow, ow, okay,” Aether laughs, hesitating, before letting you slip from his hold. He takes a few steps back, his smile as blinding as stars seconds away from exploding. “The docks, right? I’ll see you soon!”
By 'soon,' you hope he doesn't mean he'll attempt to die again immediately, but you figure you'll find out eventually. You glance around to see if anyone is watching, then decide to take a stroll around the docks for reasons no one should know.
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i cant believe mitzi's first aether fic is THIS i feel so ashamed lmfao, but TY FOR READING!!!!! <3
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screampied · 3 months
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gojo planned to confess his love to you on valentine’s day.
he had the entire thing set, he was anxious, pondering just what your reaction might be. you were forever on his mind — even now, he was picturing your smile, imagining you returning the words and accepting your gifts. his heart swooned at the thought, the feeling of you finally returning your feelings to him. he’s had a deep love for you as long as he could remember.
“she’s gonna say it back, she’s gonna say it back.”
he repeated those words in his head like a mantra.
just the thought of your name made gojo’s heart race at such a speed. he was in love with you. he figured today would be the perfect time to tell you, smother you with compliments, decorate pretty roses in your hair and maybe snag a polaroid picture with you to keep in the back case of his phone.
although, once he finally meets up with you, he’d never know how foolish he really could have been.
you’d be somewhere outside by yourself, perhaps sitting on the grass and soaking in the humid sun with the most gorgeous relaxed expression. he texted you prior that he wanted to tell you something, very subtlety.
he felt his heart beat pick up at the sheer sight of you—you were so effortlessly pretty. trapped in your own little world. gojo trods his feet up to you, hiding his hands behind his back with a gift he had prepared for you. it was a necklace with a bunch of your favorite candies inside. he also had a cheesy card that read, “do you have a name? or should i just call you mine.”
it made him snort, he found the idea off of google.
as he kept making his way towards you, dragging his feat, he’s repeating his sappy speech a million times in his head. he straightened his tie, reaching for his pocket to grab a rose out of his pocket before he stopped once he saw geto approach you …
with a kiss.
gojo had a slow reaction, he felt like his breath got snatched from his chest. a tough snatch to where he could barely breathe. geto stroked a thumb against your chin before after a few brief seconds, he pulls away. you smiled at him before geto surprised you with a big box of what appeared to be a gift.
“oh..” gojo mutters, feeling trapped, as if his feet was stuck in place. you looked so happy, he started to feel stupid. he’s so ensnared into his own loud screaming thoughts that he doesn’t even realize that you’re standing in front of him now.
“satoru. hey. you wanted to talk to me about something?” you utter, glancing up at him, wondering why his body language was so awkward and stiff.
his jaw tightened before he blinks twice, sighing out a soft. “huh? oh that—oh, it’s uh, nothing,” and then he forces a fake smile on his face. he was too late to win your heart, and it costed his own to be shattered into a million glass pieces.
“are you sure?” you pry.
he gives you a nod, and you literally slip from his fingers the minute you turn your heels to walk away. gojo felt numb, tears started to swell into his eyes as he brought the gift up to his chest.
a single tear runs down his cheek as he watches you walk off into the sunset with geto, cursing to himself mentally that that should have been him. he had a force smile, because in the end — at least you were happy.
“happy valentine’s day,” he sniffles, knowing the true meaning of heartbreak at that particular moment. “i still love you.”
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moneymasnn · 1 year
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Right Timing | Charles Leclerc
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Notes: 11k words of Charles and y/n pinning for each other…your all (hopefully) going to love it xx
this is my first post in about 6 months and I'm so happy to be back! thank you all for the continuous love and support I fucking love this app. this fic hasn't been proof read but oh well, ignore some spelling mistakes, sorry. anyways... ENJOY!!!
Blurb: One where you have a huge crush on your best friend's brother, the one and only charles leclerc, since you were a teenager, with him continuously telling you he was too old for you and you had no chance. You eventually gave up hope and moved on. But did charles? (Best friends brother troop/ slight enemy’s to lovers troop/ Older boy and younger girl)
Warnings: lots of angst, crying, sad y/n and sad Charles. lots of arguments and slight nsfw? but not really. Small age gap.
11.1k words
Arthur leclerc, your best friend since nursery… Your favourite partner in crime, your favourite laugh on a bad day, your favourite person in the whole wide world. Best to be described as home, your comfort person. He was the voice within reason, all that was right in the world. 
He's your best friend.
Y/n y/l/n, she was truly and utterly his favourite thing about the world. He counts his lucky stars he has her to help him carry his weight. Y/n was the only person Arthur let visit him when his dad died, and in his books, that made her alright. Sure she would make him want to scream and cry and punch walls, especially with her choice in men. But Arthur was always there for her, when she needed to laugh or to cry he knew what it was she needed at any given moment, he could read her like she was his favourite book. 
She was his best friend. 
How it started:
A little girl with puffy red cheeks sat at the bottom of the nursery playground. Her legs crossed on the green summer time grass as she sniffled again, gently plucking a daisy for the ground before adding it to the daisy chain she was making. She liked to say she enjoyed her own presence, but truly she was distracting herself from the lack of company. With the other young girls teasing her for her wild curly hair, she willingly chose to be sat on the grass of the playground alone.
“Hey! Can you teach me how you did that? I wanna make one for my mum!”
And with no regard for her personal space he sat down next to her on the grass, squashing half of her daisy chain, but she didn't tell him that.
He didn't care that she was crying or that she had poofy hair or that she was even a girl, he was eager to learn her talents and carry on with his lunch break.
But when Arthur noticed the signs that the girl was rather shy and sad he thought he would stay with her for the rest of lunch, keep her company.
Little did she know this company wasn't going anywhere any time soon.
And at age five, the pair promised to be friends for life.
It didn't take long for them to get their mothers talking, and after that it was set in stone, playdate after playdate. Arthur's mum became your mum's hairdresser, so there were many nostalgic memories for the two in the salon, especially when y/n would accompany her mother to her appointments. The pair's best memory is y/n letting Arthur cut her hair in the storage cupboard of his mum's shop. The horror on both parents' faces when one of y/n's pig tails were held in the hand of the young boy.
Their friendship only bloomed from there…
After spending almost every weekend watching Arthur and his older brother race in karts in the rain, to spending most afternoons around the leclerc residence playing with Arthur on his xbox, the girl felt like family.
When she was young she always found herself drawn to the middle leclerc. He was away a lot of the time, karting. He was slightly older so no doubt he found the pair childish and would always moan when he was made to spend time with them.
Charles' mother was the first to figure out your little crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the family on a winter skiing trip, you were around thirteen. It was your first time up in the mountains, so when your arms started to wave and you felt your body lean way too far back Charles did the only morally right thing, dropping the glove he was putting on and outstretching his body to catch you in time.
He didn't catch you in time. 
Instead his heroic act to save you turned into humiliation when he realised you had taken him down with you.
Pascal carefully watched as you turned around, her eyes glued to yours that were glued to her sons. She watched your tinted red cheeks as Charles scoffed and begged you to get off of him as his bare hands were now engulfed in the thick snow, causing him to suffer with a cold for the rest of the holiday.
Your eyes widened and sparked at the sight of him. You would gaze up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, an expression his mother would soon get used to as she watched you fall for her son over the next few years. 
Charles was older, and very uninterested. He didn't find your little crush as cute as everyone else did, the thought it made him look uncool. He would roll his eyes when you would grab his arm or duck when you would try to kiss his cheek. He hated when your families would go out for meals and you would sit next to him, or how you would call him after a race to congratulate him, no matter his result.
Charles always saw you as his little brother's best friend, nothing more and nothing less.
That was until your first boyfriend. A three year age gap wasn't that big of a deal as they all grew older. Charles found himself having mutual friends with his brother and would occasionally bump into Arthur and you at a party.
You were 16, you thought you had met the love of your life, an older boy, he was 18, around charles age who was now 19 and worming his way into f2. 
Arthur didn't approve of Joao. He knew you were trying to prove to charles that the age gap isn't that big of a deal after his brother had repetitively told you you were to young for him, but somewhere down the line you found yourself mesmerised by Joaos eyes and that was it for you, charles no longer rented the forefront of your mind.
Joao was great, at first. You knew he wasn't the love of your life, but for the moment he looked to play the role quite well, and you were happy. You just didn't expect it to end like it did, maybe age gaps do matter?
You were at some house party in the hills of monaco, some friend of Joaos. You were downstairs in the kitchen with Arthur as he watched you drink your body weight in alcohol. He could tell something was bothering you but he chose not to mention it. In all your years of friendship he knew you would come to him eventually. 
“Where is the lover boy anyway?” he spoke up.
Your lack of response is when Arthur clocked onto your boyfriend being the reason for your excessive drinking. Him ditching you, yet again.
You slammed down your empty red cup, wiping the dribble from your chin as you decided enough was enough and you looked for the presence of your boyfriend. 
Arthur bid you good luck on your travels as his attention was now turned to the girl he had been eyeing up across the room.
And with your liquid courage you stumbled around the party. The house was huge. Gigantic windows that draped around the whole house. Everywhere you looked was so picturesque, making you fall in love with Monaco more and more. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights leading down to the beach front. From the other end you could see continuous hills leading up into the stary sky, tiny specs of light from homes probably just as big and fancy as the one you were currently standing in swarmed your vision, a far cry from the apartment you and your mother shared where your view was a brick wall to another apartment complex.
Your heels were rubbing the back of your ankles as your hands gripped the bottom of your dress pulling it down as it was miles too short as you made your way out to the garden.
And there he sat, on the steps leading to the lit up outdoor pool, your boyfriend. A skinny little blonde girl sat on his knee. She was older than you, clearly. She took the cigarette from his lips and placed it on her own as her other arm draped over his shoulder. It was like this week after week, it was like you were a ghost.
This isn't the young love you put out for, and you decided enough was enough.
You always forgave him, but tonight was different. This night changed everything.
Tears welled in your eyes as you turned back into the house, you were going home. Joao caught a glimpse of this as he jumped up and followed you back into the house, why he would always chase after you you still don't know.
“Y/n, baby stop.” you ignored the sound of his voice as you pushed through the crowds of people to get back to the kitchen in hopes that Arthur was still there. He wasn't.
You made it to the kitchen before he grabbed the back of your arm pushing you against the kitchen island. His hand came up to wipe away a fallen strand of hair as he tucked it behind your ear.
“Come on y/n i didn't even do anything-”
“She was on your lap.” your voice crooked, you so desperately didn't want to be the little girl everyone thought you was and cry, not in front of everyone anyway. 
“It's not that big of a deal-”
“It is that big of a deal! I'm humiliated!” you shouted back, creating a scene you so desperately wanted to avoid.
“I just- I just want to go home.” you said in between sniffles.
“Baby, don't cry, let's just go back to mine, okay? I'll call a taxi-”
“No, I want to go home, my home.” you begged, the tears were falling now.
His grip tightened around your arm as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
“I need to find Arthur, and I need to go home.” you said, pushing his arm as he still had you pinned against the counter.
“Oh come on y/n, drop the act you know you want to come back to mine.”
You threw your head back dodging his fingers that were trying to touch your hair again, avoiding his eyes.
“Joao let go, you're hurting me.”
That only made his grip tighten around your arms, pushing you against the counter even harder than before. As he leant down to your ear-
“She said let go mate.”
Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt joao grip loosen as he stood back.
“Yeah and what are you gonna do about it, leclerc?”
That's when punches were thrown and Joao was hunched over holding his busted lip. Joao was grabbed by another person before he could lunge back at who you assumed was Arthur, but as you turned your head you saw a different leclerc shaking his hand. His knuckles were red, and his eyes were darker than the ones you were used to, charles.
“y/n get in the car.” he said, you stood up, sniffing and nodding your head. But then you remembered your missing friend.
“Arthur-”
“I'll get him. Get in the car.” his tone was strong, not what you were used to from the middle leclerc. 
You waited by his car in the cold for a few moments just before Charles came out the house, a stumbling tipsy Arthur under his arm. There was pink lip gloss smeared over his cheeks and lips, and at that moment you felt a small smile creep on your face. 
However, the car ride home was silent, you sat in the front with Charles, as Arthur passed out in the back seat. Faint french music played from the radio as charles eyes were firmly gripped on the road.
As you rounded the street to your home Charles finally spoke up, “You really know how to pick them.”
You sniffled again, unable to reply to him mainly because he was right and you were embarrassed. As the car came to a stop Charles undid his seat belt mumbling that he would walk you to your door.
He balanced on the back of his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight your tear stained cheeks. Charles thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half an hour, your hair hadn't been brushed and you were rummaging through your purse like a mad woman, he still thought you were pretty. He would never tell you that though.
“Don't tell me you've lost-”
“Got them!” You giggled, shaking your keys in the air before whipping your nose for what felt like the fifth time that night. You stalled as you pushed the key in the door, turning to look Charles in his eye for the first time since the party.
“Thank you-” but he cut you off, not wanting to hear it. You were his brother's best friend, Arthur wouldn't forgive him if he ever watched you in a position like the one that night and didn't do anything.
“Dont.”
“No really, thank you, charles.” You smiled, Charles smiled too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Charles and not charlie.
After a moment you dropped your bag on the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head rested on his chest as he hastily moved his hand and rubbed your back.
“Just make sure the next one isn't a total dick, okay?” he whispered, his chin placed on the top of your head.
He didn't know how much that sentence broke your little 16 year old heart.
You smiled and entered the house, Charles didn’t drive off that street before you waved at him out your window.
On the drive home we looked back at his younger brother, drooling on the back seat of his car. 
It was that night where he realised the both of you weren't all that different, but so far apart.
The first time Charles saw you after that night was a couple months later, a family day at the beach. You had turned seventeen in that time and joao was old news. But charles eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sat in the sand on your own. Sipping from a bottle of beer that you most likely stole from his crate, your toes were dipped in the wet sand as you watched the sun set on your own.
Arthur had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, Arthur's attention was stuck on the pretty blonde that was talking to his nan.
The rest of your families were distracted too, or so Charles thought. His mum watched him intently as he walked back to the car park, grabbing a spare jumper from his car before making way down the beach front to join you.
He spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party he just wanted to make sure you were okay. 
He crouched down in the sand next to you, aware of how your eyes were on him. He placed the jumper on your legs,
“You're going to get a cold.”
You scoffed but complied. Putting the jumper over your head and pulling at the sleeves, it smelled like him.
“How are you?” you asked charles, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the monegasque sea.
“I'm okay.”
The boys lost their dad a little under a year ago now, you hadn't really seen Charles since. But he knew you hadn't left Arthur's side for them few months.
“How you holding up, really?” you nudged his shoulder with yours, he did his little signature smile before looking down at his lap. Avoiding the question.
“Thank you. For looking after Arthur I mean, he's lucky to have you.” 
“Charlie…”
He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn't pressure him to answer your question, insted you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the coastline in silence.
Charles appreciated the silence and the way you didn't push him, moments like these he understood why Arthur loved you so much.
“It will be alright you know.” you hummed on his shoulder.
“I know.” Charles whispered back.
“Really, i can already see Charles leclerc, ferrari formula one driver. Your face will be all over Monaco, and we're all so proud. He'll be so proud.” 
Charles hated how much you believed him, because in that moment a nineteen year old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself everything felt impossible. 
“Don't forget about me when you're all big and famous, yeah?” you smiled up at him.
Charles looked down at you, his eyes were glossy but the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, he threw his head back in a laugh. 
“I dont think I'm ever getting rid of you.”
Now it was your turn to laugh, “at least your self aware charlie.”
After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place.
“y/n..” he whispered, oh how he whispered your name in his little broken accent, your heart melted as he backed away.
“I know, I know.”
You smiled and placed your head back on his shoulders looking at the sun that was nearly gone.
“You know I'm too old for you, right?” Charles whispered as he leaned his head on yours that was resting on his arm.
“I'm in it for the long game leclerc.” Charles giggled as he let his cheek get comfy on your head, pushing his side into you as you fully watched the sun disappear over the sea.
On the night of your 18th birthday Arthur had taken you out to your first club, you drank, alot…
Charles happened to be at the same club, so when your drunk body collided with his you couldn't help but wrap your arm around his torso, clinging onto him.
He gently placed hand on the small of your back smiling as you leaned on him.
Charles was 20 now, soon to turn 21 and had just signed a contract with alfa romeo, he was officially in formula one. Even Though you were proud of him you missed having him around. 
You stood on your heels, leaning up to his ear as Charles met your movements and bent down to hear you better in the loud club and your heart fluttered at the small action of his ear hovering near your face.
“I'm eighteen now charlie.” he could hear the smile in your voice.
“I know, happy birthday mon amour.” kissing your forehead, this was the closest you had ever been to him before, and you craved more. He had never called you the nickname before, he was teasing you.
“I'm officially an adult nowwwww.” you longed out his ear before you hand palmed his cheek. You so desperately wanted to kiss him.
“Y/n.” His tone was serious as he caught onto your intentions.
“Y/nnn.” You teased him back, imitating his serious tone and rolling your eyes as you do so.
“I know you want to Charlie, come on…” you giggled at him, but you were drunk and a mess, so the arm around your waist was to stop you from falling flat on your arse not because he just wanted to touch you, you thought. You pushed his hand off you and stood up straight, Charles sighed as he placed his hand back on the small of your back, you looked up at him. The stupid little puppy dog eyes that he refused to listen to.
“I'm too old for you, love.” Charles' hand once again held you close as you started to lose your balance again, “and you're too drunk.”
“Drunk on love.” you exclaimed, Charles laughed, like really laughed and you couldn't help but admire the creases around his eyes. He moved your arm over his shoulder so he could hold you up.
“Let's find Arthur and get you home, okay?” but as Charles pulled away you pulled him back.
“I've waited eighteen years, Charlie, I'm sure I have the patience to wait a bit longer.”
Charles thought maybe you had forgotten that night, but you remembered the way his hand was filmy stuck to the small of your back most of the night, and how he lent down to hear you and how his stubble felt in the palm of your hand, and the butterflies only got worse. 
You were falling harder everyday and you hated yourself for it, he didn't like you back.
Charles carried on with his f1 career with alfa romeo that year and you took up a journalism degree, following around arthur as he navigated the world of f3. You would occasionally bump into Charles when the boys had races at the same circuit. 
But with his first Monaco race you obviously had to be there to support him.
Charles hated how his heart beat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his garage with your old ferrari cap on and an alfa romeo shirt with the number 16 on the back hugging your chest. 
You truly had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and Charles found it harder to stay away. Your hair isn't frizzy anymore and you had for sure gone through puberty, he didn't like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.
The worst part is you hadn't even openly flirted with him in a while, and he couldn't seem to figure out why, and that bothered him so much more than he liked. 
The small little y/n that used to follow him everywhere, always latched to his arm, looking up at him with heart eyes. I mean, you weren't sixteen anymore that was sure, but Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment that you weren't head over heels for him anymore. 
Charles needed to snake off that weird feelling in his stomach.
You were now 19 about to turn 20, it was the off season and you couldn't wait to soak up some sun on the leclerc yacht. Your favourite summer getaway.
You drove up to the small paddock on a little beach and climbed onto the grey boat, it was charles’, of course. The whole family was there, you were talking to pascal as arthur pulled you around the side of the boat, nearly causing you to break an ankle.
“Erm hello? Watch it.” you scolded him for pulling you so ruffly.
“You're over the whole in love with my older brother thing, right?” he asked, his hand running through his hair.
“I- i why?” you said, clocking your head to the side at Arthurs panicked manor. He knew you had been doing great this year, and he also knew why you declined every single boy that had attempted to ask you out on a date this year. 
“Okay, erm,'' Arthur stood up straight and scratched the back of his head.
“Forget your stuff, let's just get off this boat. And er, don't turn around okay?” he tried to nonchalantly say, his hands gripping your shoulders were a dead give away something was wrong though.
You nodded your head and followed Arthur down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.
“Since when have I ever listened to you? I going to read my book on the sun-”
Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Charles, your Charles with a girl.
A pretty girl, beautiful actually, she was slim and perfect and her smile was enough to make you want to crumble in a ball. 
She was leaning on him, grabbing his bicep as her hand brushed through his hair, he was laughing like really and truly laughing at whatever it was she had to say and you had never felt emotions like the ones you felt in that moment.
You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out himself, no remorse, and had just served it back to you on a silver platter.
He really didn't want you. 
“y/n, i didn't even know he was bringing her i-”
“You knew?”
Arthur sighed before running his hands through his hair, “it's been around four months, mum really likes her, she's nice. I mean she's not you, but he's happy so i can't complain.'' Arthur shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to console you in that moment.
You turned away from the happy couple and sat on the small steps that lead down to the bottom of the yacht. Arthur sat down next to you, pulling your body into his as he wrapped his arm around you.
“What about me? When will I be happy?”
You hadn't realised you were crying until Arthur grabbed your arm and pulled you straight off the boat.
That was your wake up call, you had spent too much of your life waiting for someone that never wanted you. 19 years to be exact, a sad sad story to anyone that knew you. You were embarrassed and angry at yourself. 
You needed to actually move on. 
So that's what you did.
And that's when you met him, a young british boy, he was around your age and drove for a papaya team that shared the f1 grid with charles.
Lando norris.
He was 20, awkward, way too cocky for only his second year, and when you bumped into him in Bahrain of 2020 you chose him to be the one to make you move on.
He asked for your number a few races later and the two of you used to text all the time. He took you on cute picnic dates, asked if he could kiss you before he did, and overall was the kindest most respectful boyfriend a girl could ask for. You were actually happy, and it only took nineteen years.
It was imola when you bumped into Charles in the paddock, his brother wasn't here so he was confused as to why you were here, but then he saw the McLaren hat on your head and his eyebrows furred evenmore.
“y/n?”
“Hello, charles.” you gave him a tight lip smile before moving past him but he chased after you why you walked down the paddock strip. Past the ferrari garage.
“You're a McLaren fan now, huh?” 
“Yep.”
Charles' heart hurt at your bluntness, he grabbed your arm so you would stop walking and talk to him. 
“y/n.” serious charles. That stupid tone that usually made you freeze and obey whatever he had to say.
But this time you rolled your eyes and pulled your arm from his grip.
“Charles, I really have to be somewhere.” you lied, checking your watch.
“Like a journalism thing? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here, you could have flown with me and Joris?” and Charlotte, but he didn't mention that.
You really tried to pull your eyes from the red drivers suit that was wrapped around his hips, he was a ferrari driver now and you had never been more happy for him. You just wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how proud you were of him. 
But right at this moment, you had never wanted to create more distance between you both.
“y/n?” 
Both of your heads snapped as Lando ran up to you, you coughed and took a step back from charles.
Landos arm wrapped around your shoulder as he put out a fist for Charles to spud. Charles' eyes were glued to landos arm resting on your shoulder and he could feel the blood pumping in his heart speeding up.
Lando kissed your temple and Charles' eyes were glued to yours. 
“Charles.” Lando smiled nodding his head.
“Lando.'' Charles' voice was laced with venom, not that Lando noticed. 
“So you guys are?” Charles' eyebrows furred pointing between you both.
“We havent you know, labelled it yet. It's still kind of new” you smiled, it had been months.
“But I'm happy, really happy.” Charles knew that was a message to him, you were happy and he needed to leave you be. But with Lando of all people, Charles couldn't seem to shake this one off.
Charles mumbled something about needing to be somewhere and walked away from you both. Lando again oblivious to the interaction as his arm stayed secured around you and he balabbed on about the race as you walked to the McLaren motorhome.
Charles hated him. 
Charles hated himself for his feelings.
He didn't know why he was so bothered, he had never been this bothered, nothing gotten to him like you and Lando just did. Joris told him maybe it was because he had a soft spot for you deep down, he joked that maybe Charles liked you back and Charles ignored him for the rest of the weekend at that accusation. But that didn't mean he didnt ignore his words. 
It was over, you grew up and he should feel relieved you've moved on, right?
He broke up with Charlotte a month later.
Charles scoffed when you first bought lando along to family night, he hated how your mum loved his accent and how arthur laughed at all his jokes. He hated that he hadn't caught your eye all night, instead your eyes were glued on the stupid little british boys. Charles hated it, he sat there like a toddler that hadn't gotten their own way all night. He knew it was wrong but he hated his feelings more than he hated lando being sat at his table.
Charles was in the kitchen, he was picking at the leftover pie on the table top as everyone else was outside fawning over one of landos stories, he had really charmed the family.
His mother walked into the kitchen as he was taking a bite of cherry pie looking like a caught child, she laughed at the cherry stains in the corner of his mouth and passed him a tissue.
The pair stood in silence for a moment before Pascal spoke up.
“That's definitely not allowed in your diet, my sweet.” she smirked knowing the driver's strict diet.
“But you won't tell on me maman.” Charles flashed his puppy dog eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. She sighed and moved closer to him as he stood up straight. 
“You have a lot on your mind my boy, and don't tell me you don't because I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Maman.” Charles sighed.
“This is about her isn't it?” Charles' eyes refused to look at his mother at her words.
“I don't even need to say her name, it's her, it will always be her.” she smiled as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.
“She's happy, Charles.'' he heard the sternness in his mothers voice.
“So everyone keeps telling me.” Charles scoffed again.
“So then you know you're being an ass, right?”
Charles' eyes widened at his mothers language but she just laughed and waved him off.
“After all the years she spent pining after you, Charles, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.”
“But what if I'm not happy?” he asked his mum, she just sent him a sympathetic smile and grazed his cheek once more.
“Do you love her?”
“I dont know.” Charles shrugged.
“See, it would be cruel to break her heart over this kind of uncertainty. Either you love her or you're just jealous. You have a lot of thinking to do my boy, but don't do anything until you're really sure. She's fragile when it comes to you.”
Charles nodded his head.
His mum was right, he really did have a lot of thinking to do. 
And as if on queue there she was, walking into the kitchen, the widest smile on her face as she grabbed another beer from the fridge. She had started to let her curls rome free recently and it was sending charles’ heart into a spiral, with her stupid little shorts and crocs and no doubt she had conned lando into giving her his jumper. 
She used to do that to him, Charles thought, remembering all the times you had tricked him into stealing his hoodies. 
She smiled at Charles mum and told her again that the food was lovely, nodding at Charles, and she left just as quick as she came in.
“Maman, I'm so in love with her it physically hurts me.”
And there it was, the words you had so desperately wanted to hear your whole life, but you didn't hear a sound as Charles vowed to never say it again out loud. Your happiness came before his.
Charle suffered for a year, he knew he loved you, he had said it out loud once and the vulnerability he felt in that moment knowing you were stood just 15 feet away with the boy you were in love with was enough to make him swear to never voice his feelings again, he was embarrassed and wanted the world to swallow him whole. The worst part was the guilt, he could only feel like he had let one of the best things go, slip straight from his grasp all for a bit of pride. He didn't want to be seen with the young naive girl that had a crush on him, but now he just felt stupid. Stupid that he didn't recognise your love for him sooner, he had always thought you were one of the most amazing humans he had ever met, he found himself looking for you in other people when he didn't even know it. He was stupid, and he knew that for sure.
Charles dedicated the rest of the year to focusing on his f1 seat, with ferrari fucking him and sebastian over and over and after his wins at spa and monza he felt hungry for more and felt that the true love of his life should be formula one.
But his heart hurt when he didn't hear from you after his win in spa, and then it crushed him again when you didn't contact him after his result at monza.
No call.
Not even a text.
He had fully let you slip from his grasp.
It was a long year for Charles that year, and as summer break quickly approached he found girls and training were his favourite pastime. He stopped turning up to family events when he knew lando would be there and you were in love and happy. After a while it was a rarity he would even stay at an event for an hour.
He was 22 and as a new season started the only thing he was talking from lando was his teammate, not that charles was complaining. He liked Carlos, and he was ready to step up and take that 1st driver's seat. He was ready to make everyone proud just like you had promised him that night on the beach.
After a while charles mothers birthday rolled around, one he would definitely not miss as his mother requested a small family meal. Everyone was sitting, looking over the menu when Charles undoubtedly noticed the missing presence of you.
“Where's y/n?” Charles asked Lorenzo, who was sitting next to him.
Lorenzo just shrugged and turned his attention back to his menu, was it normal for you to not attend family outings? Charles hadn't been around for so long he didn't even think to consider that maybe she didn't turn up to these things anymore either.
“With Lando I suppose.” Charles murmured, he tried not to sound jealous but the older brother just laughed.
“Lando?” as he turned to his younger brother.
“Why would she- you really haven't spoken to her have you?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes widening at the thought of his brother being so dumb.
Charles just shrugged his shoulders as he urged his brother to continue.
“They broke up, a while ago actually.”
Charles didnt know why his shoulders felt lighter but he chose to ignore it and try to press some more information out of his brother.
“So? First break up, we've all been there, doesn't mean she can't be here for mamans birthday.'' Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to act like he didn't care.
“She's not even in the country charles.”
Charles' head snapped towards his brothers, “She's taking a gap year, last I heard she was staying in Australia for a while.”
Lorenzo could see the gears turning in charles’ head; he knew he wanted to ask more so he answered for him.
“Hey Arthur, where's y/n these days?” Lorenzo asked his other brother who was at the other end of the table with his girlfriend.
Arthur shrugged before answering, “Still in australia at the moment, she really likes it there, but i told her she cant like it to much because there's no way i'm sitting on a plane for twelve hours every time i want to actually see her face and not on a phone screen.” arthur joked, everyone else laughed along with him for a moment until charles countered up the courage to speak up.
“Why didn't she just travel with formula one? She wanted to be an F1 journalist anyway.”
Arthur's eyes narrowed at his brother. 
You definitely hadn't meant to cause it, but there was a small crack in between the brothers' relationship within the last year. Arthur definitely blamed Charles and his stupid effects on you for you running away.
“She wanted to be away from f1 for a while.'' Arthur told his brother like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, hoping to squash this table subject, not really wanting to talk about his run away best friend.
“I mean I don't blame her, especially when her Lando ended like it did. She's living her best life.” Carla, Arthurs girlfriend chimed in. Arthur slightly winced at his girlfriend's words not wanting this to be the dinner conversation tonight, especially when Charles clearly knew nothing about y/n's life within the last year.
“What?'' Charles asked the table, but no one answered him, instead everyone's heads were down dead planted down at the table, everyone except for Carla who had no idea what she had just started.
“Why did no one tell me what's been going on?” charles raised his voice slightly, catching the attention from everyone else on the table.
Charles mother intervened knowing where this was going, “charles, not right now-”
“No, she's been going through something and no one even thought to mention it? What the fuck.”
Arthur was visibly turning red, Charles noticed as Lorenzo's head was shaking telling his little brother now wasn't the time, pleading Arthur to just bite his tongue.
“Say it arthur.”
The flame was lit.
“And who do you think upset her in the first place, charles?” Arthur tutted, picking up his menu pretending to scan it so he didn't have to pay attention to the conversation anymore.
“Drop it, arthur.” Lorenzo sternly interrupted.
“Considering no ones told me anything how the fuck am i supposed to answer that question?” Charles spat back at his brother.
Arthurs cheeks were a visible red now, he was about to blow up. Something he had been holding in for a while. He slammed his menu down and turned to look at his older brother.
“You know what Charles, you have no right! No fucking right, sorry maman for the language-” charles mum just put her hands up in defence as she let her youngest son get it all off his chest. 
“She loved you, and you constantly broke her heart and told her no and then when she was finally happy in a relationship you had to go tell the world you love her so much that ‘it physically hurts you!” Arthur mugged his brother's words.
Charles was shocked, he had no idea what was happening. 
No one knew of his feelings towards you, no one except- charles head snapped towards his mother who pulled a tight lip smile and just shaked her head in a no. Charles was about to deny deny deny when-
“Yeah, she heard it. And it fucking broke her charles. It was mean and it was selfish, and I've never despised someone more than you for what you did to MY best friend.”
“Arthur-”
“I'm not finished. Then you have the decency to finally come to a family meal for the first time in nearly a year, nearly a year charles! And ask about her like you didn't completely cut her and us out of your life? You're selfish, completely and utterly selfish charles.”
Charles sat at the table pale, he felt the colour drain from his face as he scrambled to find the words to say but his mouth didn't open.
“You really do pick and choose your moments brother, I don't know why I even came tonight, I'm sorry maman but I told you I wouldn't be able to sit in a room with him.”
Arthur stood up, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and took Carla's hand in the other.
“I'm really sorry maman, and everyone else, happy birthday, i guess.” Arthur gave his mother a hug and walked out of the restaurant with carla. Leaving everyone else at the table in pure shock.
Especially Charles, he had know idea what to say, he looked up at his mother opposite him who looked at him with sympathy.
“My sweet boy, I'm sorry to say it but there was some truth to your brother's words. I told you she was fragile.”
Charles felt awful.
Charles felt like he was going to cry at the table.
It had been a long year for Charles, he had groveld for the most of it, thinking you were happy somewhere while Lando flew you anywhere and everywhere around the world. Now he came to think of it, maybe there was a better reason for the young mclaren driver avoiding him.
He wasn't really friends with Lando, but his teammate, Carlos was close with the boy and whenever there was an offer for the three of them to hang out Lando magically had something come up and couldn't attend. 
It all made sense now. Even the fact he hadn't seen you in the paddock, he thought maybe you were caught up in your studies, oh how he was wrong.
He sat at the table for the rest of the meal, and with every passing comment he didn't think he could sink more into his chair.
He was an awful person, he thought.
When the family were leaving the restaurant Charles hugged his family members, swallowing the anxiety and embarrassment down.
He looked over at Lorenzo who sent him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Tonight wasn't supposed to go like that, i told arthur to just drop it i-”
“No, it's okay. I deserved it.”
“I dont know, you fucked up, but you didnt need to run, nether did she.'' Lorenzo, his older brother shrugged.
“What happened? With her and lando." Charles pushed.
“alot .” lorezono chucked.
“I don't know if it's my place to-” enzo sighed at that stupid little puppy dog face his younger brother was pulling.
“I'm pretty sure she cheated on him, Arthur said as she fell into a bit of a hole. So the only thing she really could do was just leave Monaco for a while. She seems good, Charles, healthy and happy." Lorenzo shrugged, watching as Charles' eyes widened and he latched onto every word. 
“If it's any closure she's not mad at you, Arthur, well I'm sure he would be he loves y/n like a twin sister, but she's not mad at you. She was just confused and hurt.”
“If i call her-'' Charles started but his voice flattened as he realised it would ne dumb to contact you.
“Call her Charles, I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you.”
You knew what today was, arthur's molthers birthday. You had called her in the morning sending her your love and wishes, she told you that Charles was attending the meal and Arthur would be on his best behaviour, little did you know.
You wondered if Charles knew what you were up to, if pascal or lorenzo had been keeping him in the loop.
You were at the beach, cocktail in hand and book in the other, your earphones were in as you hummed to the faint sound of the music and read, but you were disturbed when the rigging was a call from your phone echoing through your earphones, charles.
Pick it up.
Pick it up.
You couldn't do it.
Your body froze in place, you pulled your airpods out, throwing down your book, not caring that you lost the page you were on. You took in a deep breath and picked up your phone, and just as your thumb hovered over the answer button, the ringing stopped.
He had called you?
You needed a moment to think about what you were going to say to him, what he would say.
You so desperately wanted to hear his voice, it had been a year, and you wondered if that was enough time for feelings to vanish.
You looked out at the calm seas for a moment, did you really want to fall back into a loop of pining for him like a puppy. You loved him, loved, past tense. You were a grown woman now, so you opened your phone and called him back.
Ringing.
“Hello?” his voice echoed through the phone.
“Charles?”
You heard his sigh of relief over the phone, and your heart melted all over again, he hadn't even spoken yet, but the closeness of his presence made it all too real.
“I'm sorry.”
He's sorry?
“Charles-”
“I'm sorry, okay. Arthurs right, I was mean and I was selfish and you deserved so much more than what I did to you. From the bottom of my heart y/n/n, I'm so so incredibly sorry.”
“It's- it's okay.” 
You forgave him.
“It's not.”
There was a silence that lingered for a moment.
“What I said, what you heard, it wasn't supposed to happen like that. I really didn't want it to happen that way.” he pleaded over the phone, his breathy voice echoing through the speaker.
“I want to see you.”
More silence.
“Please, y/n.”
“Okay.”
More silence.
“Soon, okay.” There was promise to your words.
“Soon.” he repeated, as though it was something for him to hold onto. 
Soon.
“When I'm ready Charles I'll come home, I'm just not ready yet.” you winced at your own words because you so desperately wanted to see him too.
“Then don't come home- i'll come to you, i'll catch the next plane if i have too just tell me where you are-”
“Charles, I'm not ready yet.” you interrupted him. 
Silence.
Charles wanted to cry, hearing your voice and knowing you were just within reach he wanted to see you, hold you, apologise as much as you would allow him to. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and love you forever, but you weren't ready.
“I'll wait for you, okay? Soon or not.” his voice cracked, and god did it melt your heart.
“I'll see you soon charlie.”
This was feeling a little too much like a goodbye for charles.
“y/n?”
“Yeah?”
“Am I too late?’
“Time doesn't apply when it comes to you.” and Charles had hope. He hadn't fully let you slip, yet.
Charles would now spend every waking moment wondering how soon was soon?
But after a while he figured ‘soon’ was a little long, three more months to be precise.
You had left Australia, travelled around more like you wanted to, and you came back to Monaco just before the end of the f1 season.
Charles was already in Abu Dhabi by the time you landed back in monaco.You had asked everyone to not tell him of your arrival.
You were sitting with Arthur in his mothers living room, just like the old days. You told him about your travels while he updated you on his love life and gossip in the paddock.
You had missed this.
And it wasn't until pascal passed you a warm cup of tea and sat with the two of you, sharing her own gossip from the hair salon you realised how much you were ready to be home again.
Arthur had run to his room quickly to grab his trophies to show you and as he walked out of the room your eyes lingered on the suitcases by the door.
“You're going to Abu dhabi?” you asked pascal.
“Tomorrow.” she smiled at you.
Pascal could visibly see the gears turning in your head, she placed a hand on your knee and smiled up at you.
“I don't want to pressure you y/n, and i know you just got back but you should consider it.”
You knew what she meant and you nodded at her with a small smile, and Arthur came back.
You went home a few hours later and sat in your room, if you go you'll see him, but you're going to see him at some point regardless. 
You felt vulnerable.
So completely scared, but that didn't stop you from texting Arthur that night telling him you were going to join him and his family tomorrow.
You were going to see him.
Your time was up.
You were ready.
You meet up with the leclerc family at the airport in the early hours of the morning, your suitcase gripped in your hand as you were mentally preparing yourself to sit on the plane and go over any and every possible outcome this weekend could have.
Arthur sat with Carla at the front, and Pascal was fast asleep. But the chair next to you suddenly became occupied when you looked up and saw the eldest leclerc.
“You look well, y/n.” he smiled down at you.
“Thank you.” you smiled back at lorenzo.
“I think the time away did you good, no?”
“yeah, i really needed some space, but now i'm back and just feeling a little..” you stumbled on your words, struggling to describe your emotions.
“Overwhelmed?”
“Yeah, exactly that.”
“Does he know you're coming?” you knew the ‘he’ lorenzo was referring too.
“I dont think so.”
“He's going to be happy to see you.” lorenzo nudged your shoulder.
“I hope so.” you nervously chucked.
You took in a deep breath and looked back at the eldest leclerc brother, “I'm just anxious, I have no idea how this weekend will pan out. The next time I'll be back on this plane going home I could be happy, sad, crying or planning to run away again. I just feel so lost.”
“Lost isn't a bad thing.'' Lorenzo shrugged.
“He's just as lost as you y/n, trust me. I just hope you both figure it out, you both deserve the peace of mind. And if this all goes to shit, you still got on this plane today and tried.”
“I just don't want to get my hopes up.”
“Then don't, sometimes things aren't just meant to be.”
That's what was worrying, you had loved this man for years, and now was the deciding day if he loved you back or not and you don't know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him
being the love of your life up yet.
You weren't mentally prepared for the shit outcome of this story, you didn't know if you could handle Charles breaking your heart another time.
When the plane landed and the warm air hit your skin you took in a deep breath. Time to face the music.
You went straight to your hotel, it was a Friday so Charles was about to participate in fp1 by the time you turned up to the track.
The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of happy fans filled your ears, you had missed being in the paddock more than you knew. This place was your home.
You were walking with Arthur and Carla when your name was called, judging by the accent you knew it wasn't the monegasque, it was the papaya coloured boy running up to you.
You told Arthur and Carla you would catch up with them as you stopped and smiled at lando who had now reached you. 
“Hey.” he smiled.
“Hey.” you smiled back awkwardly.
“Listen lando, you deserve an explanation-”
“It's okay y/n, we were young, it was a while ago you’re forgiven.” Lando chuckled as he poked your shoulder.
“But that doesn't mean what I did was okay, you deserve more than what I gave you.” 
Lando gave you a sympathetic smile.
“Consider it done with, okay? No hard feelings.”
You smiled up at the British boy, he looked good, he seemed well and that made your guilt feel a little less painful.
“I erm, I have a girlfriend actually, she's great, her names luisa.”
You watched as he lips upturned at the mention of his girlfriend, he was smitten.
“I'm happy for you landini.”
You both laughed for a moment, the free air was nice. Seeing lando meant there was a weight lifted off your shoulders.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing, I didn't want things to be awkward.” he said.
“I don't think I could ever be awkward around you.” Lando smiled at your words.
“Are you still thinking about becoming an F1 journalist?” he asked, remembering how it was your dream, he had also hoped your disappearance in the paddock for the last year wasn't his doing, stopping you from reaching your dream.
You smiled as he remembered, “I'm working on it.”
“Well i hope i see you around more often then, you deserve it y/n, really.”
Lando was getting called from the other end of the paddock as he had to be in his car within the next 10 minutes, you both shared a hug and it felt nice to feel comfortable with him.
His hands squeezed your back before saying a quick bye and skipping down the paddock. 
As he pulled away and walked past, your eyes connected with them all to familiar grey ones you were so nervous to see.
Charles.
He didn't seem too happy though.
He had just watched you smile and laugh with your ex in the middle of the paddock and then hug him bye, even though you thought nothing of it, Charles' mind was spinning.
There he was, a tight lipped smile right opposite you. He had grown out his stubble and he looked tired. You knew he hadn't had the best of seasons with Ferrari, you didn't keep up with it too much, it upset you that his childhood team had failed him massively. 
He nodded his head and followed his press officer in the opposite direction, but you weren't going to let him go just yet.
“Charles, wait!”
And before you could process it you were running, sprinting down the paddock after him, but he had already disappeared into ferrari hospitality.
“Shit.” you mumbled as you jogged down to the garages in hopes of catching up with him.
You scanned your pass and walked into the back of the garage Pascal had walked up to you and grabbed your hand.
“You need to put some headphones on dear, it gets loud in -”
“Pascal, where did he go?” you asked her frantically, like a mad woman out of breath.
“Charles?”
“yes!”
A slight smile just appeared on her face as she turned around, “Be quick dear, I think I can see him putting his balaclava on.” She pushed your shoulder and you walked around the red barrer that clearly said ‘no public entry’.
“You can't be back here, ma'am.” a security officer grabbed the back of your bicep.
“No, I need to get through, it's an emergency.” you whined, pulling your arm from his grip.
“I'm sorry ma’am, it's a safety hazard.” the man's grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you away from the back of the garage. You pushed off him but his grip only improved as he swept you off the floor, lifting you up at your attempt to run. You kicked your legs like a child learning to swim and kicked arms that trapped you.
“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have no choice but to remove you from the garage.” he said, trying to dodge your feisty little kicks.
“And If you don't get your slimy huge hands off me right now i'm going to-”
“y/n?!”
Your head snapped at the sound of your name, Jorris, Charles' best friend.
“Jorris, oh thank god!”
“She's okay, she can come in.” Jorris grabbed your other hand and wiggled you away from the huge security man's grip as he dropped you back to the floor. You brushed off your dress and gave the security man a dirty look before turning to Charles' best mate.
“Jorris, where is he?” your breathing was rapid and your heart beat feeling like it was thumping out your chest.
“y/n you really shouldn't.” he sent you a sympathetic smile.
“Please.” you pleaded with him. After seeing you try to fight a six foot five security man Joris really didn't want to feel the wrath of you right now, so he complied.
“You have five minutes, follow me.” he led you through the back of the garage.
Whenever Charles got in the car he liked to be left alone to his own devices, it was his switch off time, but you knew on some occasions he didn't mind the company, you just needed to talk to him, tell him you were here for him. You didn't want him getting in the car overthinking that you were here for lando.
And before you knew it, there he was, standing in front of you, you were painting out of breath with your hands on your knees as you looked up at him.
Charles giggled as you held up a finger to let him know you were still getting your breath back. He pulled his ear pieces out of his ear and zipped up the rest of his race suit.
“I hate to rush you, but I have to be in the car in four minutes.” Charles frowned, “and four minutes aren't enough for what I have to say to you, y/n.”
“Let's keep it short and sweet then.” you stood up straight and smiled at the boy.
“Im sor-” he started but you cut him off.
“That's not what I meant by sweet.”
Charles squeezed his eyes and winced at his name being called behind him, he opened his eyes and saw you beaming up at him and he knew he was in love, he just wasn't going to tell you yet, especially not if he had just witnessed you make up with lando. Lando made you happy, Lando didn't break your heart on multiple occasions like he had. Charles wouldn't blame you if you went back to the British driver.
You tilted your head to the left and smiled at Chris, Charles' manager. He was pointing at his watch and tapping his foot.
You looked back at Charles and took in a deep breath, you stood on your tip toes and placed your arms on his shoulders, gently placing a kiss to his cheek.
Your soft lips connecting with his ruff stubble is something Charles cherished, he couldn't wipe the Cheshire cat grin off his face.
“I know it's only a practice session, but good luck out there charlie.”
“Thank you.” he smiled, trying to hide his blush. He couldn't believe he was blushing and how the roles had reversed between the two of you.
“What about lando?” he had to ask, it was on his mind.
“I'm not standing next to Lando wishing him good luck right now, am i?” you smirked at him.
Charles smiled before looking back at his manager, he bent down and kissed your forehead like he had done a thousand times, but this time it felt different, electric, it felt like love. It was love.
“I'll be waiting for you, okay?” you told him.
Charles smiled to himself, he wasn't too late.
If anything was on Charles' side that day it wasnt timing. Charles finished fp2 with a few flying laps and a heavy heart, his first plan was to find you but his press officer had forced him to do interviews, and then he had a meeting and then he had checked his watch and it was way past nine and he knew you were probably back at the hotel by now.
He huffeed as he left his meeting, grabbing his jumper and keys and saying goodbye to the engineers that were going to work on the car overnight.
He had it all planned in his head, he was going to get some flowers on the way home, knock on your hotel door and ask you on a date.
“Charles!” called out his manager, he really hoped he didn't have to stay in this hell hole any longer, he just wanted to leave the track and get his girl.
“What?” he huffed.
“She waited.”
“What?” Charles repeated, his manager now having his full attention. 
Charles caught the way his manager's lips turned into a devilish smirk, but he wasn't looking at Charles, yet something behind him. When he whipped his head around there you were, his heart thumped at the massively oversized ferrari jacket one of the staff must have given you to keep you warm while you waited.
You just smiled at him and waited for him to walk to you, but charles sprinted, he was a man on a mission and when he got to you his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you up in the air for a moment before he dropped you back down, his hands still remaining tightly wrapped around your torso.
He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing his forehead on yours.
“Take what's yours charlie.” you smiled. 
Charles' thumb gently traced over your plump bottom lip before he placed his hand on your cheek, smiling like an idiot. 
He slowly grazed his lips on your before gently adding pressure and connecting your soft lips with his in a quick kiss. A kiss that was full of smiles as Charles pulled you as close to him as possible. Towering over you as he kissed you unlike he had kissed anyone ever. The way your lips moved in sync with his was magic to him, it had never felt like this before.
He pulled back letting you get some air, before using that as leverage to stick his tongue in your mouth, he put all his power and passion into the kiss and it was just as you imagined him to be with you. Sensual and passionate. 
Your hands ran along his shoulders and up to his head where you gently tucked on his hair. Charles groned on your lips and eventually pulled back, he giggled as he placed his forehead on yours again. 
“All mine, finally.” He said through a wide smile.
“I've always been yours…”
Thank you for reading!! Here’s a gif of baby Charles because this is how i imagined him when y/n had her teenage crush. Bare faced and spiky hair🥹
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yourgothiccqueen · 2 months
Text
LN4 - “Formula One Sucks”
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Summary: A grumpy reader meets her match.
Parings : Lando Norris x Female Reader
Warnings: none except swearing - fluff and silliness!
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3
Masterlist
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
“I think just don’t give a shit about it!”
“That’s because you’re a boring cow!”
Y/N sat crossed legged on the grass outside her tent, sun beating down on her face as she half heartedly sipped on a capri sun. Spending the night lying on the floor had left her aching and exhausted, and she feared spending the day watching ‘cars go round in circles’ would truly tip her over the edge.
“I just don’t get why I had to come.” Y/N groaned. “You know loads of other people.”
“None of whom were free at short notice on a Sunday!” Y/N’s friend Annie exclaimed.
Y/N groaned dramatically. She was already hating the fact that she was going to be spending the day trying to shelter from the heat whilst pushing her way through crowds of obsessive fans.
“It’s the three things I hate the most - cars, people and outside.”
“Oh shush, you had to come because you’re such a joyous, positive influence in my life who I knew would jump at the opportunity!” Annie said, sarcastically. “Now stop being so bloody miserable.”
Y/N scowled and playfully swatted Annie on the leg.
“You’re a bitch, you know that?”
“I know. Now drink your capri sun and cheer the fuck up.”
—————————————————————-
By 12pm Y/N had not, in fact, cheered the fuck up. She was truly finished with the world of formula one. So far she had queued for the loo, listened to some very loud music and spent an extortionate amount of money on a relatively small (and cold) hot dog.
Annie had long disappeared, claiming to have spotted some guy called ‘Fernando’ before rushing off into the crowd with a squeal, promising to meet Y/N at their seats later on.
It was beginning to get all too much for little Y/N L/N (😉) as she made her way throughout the bustle of people, eager to finally find someplace quiet to eat.
Eventually she found herself going through a set of doors (which definitely did not say staff only) as she found herself a quiet corner.
“Perfect.”
Before she could even take a bite, she heard a cough from behind her.
“Ermmm, what are you doing?”
Turning around, Y/N found herself faced with a relatively young man, wearing an orange cap with curls of brown peeking out the bottom. He looked strangely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it, and quite frankly she was too hangry to care.
“I’m eating my hot dog.”
The man smirked and let out a small laugh.
“Yeah, I can see that.”
Y/N shrugged and said “ask stupid questions, get stupid answers” before taking a bite.
The man raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the passive aggressive woman in front of him, who seemingly didn’t know who he was.
“Are you here for the race? Or do you work here?” He questioned.
“I’m here for the race. Are you?”
The curly haired man smirked slightly, letting out a little laugh.
“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”
Y/N crammed another bite of hot dog into her mouth “Well, enjoy. It’s all a load of crap if you ask me though.”
A look of intrigue on his face, he asked “what makes you say that?”
“It’s just boring!” Y/N exclaimed. “Car goes zoom, someone wins, hurrah - so bloody what?! What’s the point?”
The man looked back at her, a look of mild bewilderment and irration written across his face.
“Well yeah, the car is one aspect of it, sure. But it’s the drivers that bring that passion, that excitement every week. They’re the ones who shake things up and keep things fresh. They’re the ones who make it worth watching.” The man let out a small cough. “I mean, that’s my opinion anyway.”
“Hmm. So which driver should I look out for today then?” Y/N queried.
The curly haired man shot her a questionable look.
“Don’t you know the names of any of the drivers?”
Y/N shrugged “I know Lewis Hamilton.”
He let out a laugh and another smirk again “well, that’s a start I suppose.”
Y/N was getting sick of this man smirking at her. But then again, it was a very nice smirk. And he did seem like a very nice man.
“So, what are you doing here if you hate formula one?” The man queried, arms folded against his chest.
“My friend’s a big fan, and her boyfriend who was was meant to be coming has got the flu.” Y/N sighed. “As much as I hate being here, I’d feel even shitter if she came on her own.”
The man let out a small smile “Well, that’s nice of you to do that for your friend.”
He suddenly glanced down at Y/N’s lips, and appeared to take a step closer.
Was this mysterious, attractive stranger about to kiss her?
His thumb reached up to her chin and she couldn’t help but look up into his eyes.
God he had beautiful eyes.
She felt his thumb touch her skin with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes fluttered shut.
He smelt *heavenly*. What aftershave was he wearing?
“Sorry, you had some ketchup on your chin.” He let out a soft giggle.
Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she felt herself return to reality.
“Oh!”
The mystery man let out a giggle as his thumb brushed against her chin - “all gone.”
She laughed. “Thank you. It’s not everyday a stranger wipes ketchup off your face. Did we just get to second base?”
The man let out a laugh (it’s a very nice laugh).
“Sure. I’ll count it if you do.”
An urgent shout sounded from a door behind them.
“I’ve got to go. It was nice chatting to you though.” The man stated. “And to answer your question, look out for Lando Norris today. I’ve heard he’s one to watch!”
“Will do.” Y/N called, still slightly stunned from the interaction.
A few moments passed before a security clad gentlemen rounded the corner.
“Oi, you shouldn’t be back here! Get back out the front!”
“Relax - I’ve finished my hot dog, I’m going!”
———————————————————
The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as Y/N sat close to Annie, eyes fixated on a certain McLaren as he reached his final lap of the race.
“And Lando Norris has finished in P2!”
Cheers erupted from around Y/N and she found herself joining it. Turned out that ‘cars, and people and outside’ could be pretty exciting - who knew?!
“Fuck yeah!” Annie shouted, jumping up and down.
The McLaren driver removed his helmet before waving up to the crowds, a grin plastered on his face.
Y/N’s own grin left her face.
“Oh shit. That’s the guy I met earlier!”
“What?” Annie exclaimed. “You met Lando Norris?”
“Yes! Is he a big deal?” Y/N stated, panic rising.
Annie glanced around them, signalling to the cheering crowds - “Duh! What did you say to him?”
Y/N gulped - “I shoved a hot dog in my mouth and told him formula one is crap.”
Annie stared. No words left her mouth.
Y/N could feel her face turning red. “I then proceeded to ask him if he was going to the race.”
A quick, sharp laugh left Annie’s mouth, before she fell into floods of hysterics.
“Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!”
Y/N could feel herself cringing.
“Oh god, I don’t know! Lots apparently!”
She glanced down to Lando again, to find him smirking up at her. He winked, before turning back towards his team.
“Oh my god, I’m never going outside again.” Y/N cringed. “This is all your fault!”
“My fault?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t tell an F1 driver that his sport is crap!”
Before Y/N could respond, she felt a tap on her shoulder. A uniformed worker pressed a piece of paper into her hand.
“I’ve been asked to give this to you.” The woman smiled, before walking away.
“What is it?” Annie questioned, eyeing the paper.
Y/N unwrapped it, finding quickly scrawled words,
Hello Grumpy,
I hope the race was enough to change your mind about formula one. Here’s my number if you ever fancy a hot dog or a debate over ‘cars going zoom’.
LN xx
“What. The. Fuck.” Annie’s eyes widened.
Y/N grinned.
“Maybe I do like F1 after all!”
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minami-ff · 6 months
Text
I Want My Kids to Have Your Eyes
Levi x Reader (fluff, sfw)
what a bold thing to say to your captain.
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Moonlight hung over the hill like a comforting blanket as you both reclined an arm’s length apart on the soft grass beneath, bodies sinking into the earth. The day had been relentless, a gruelling mission that tested every ounce of strength. Now, in the quiet aftermath, you two found solace gazing upward at the summit’s view, shimmering like scattered diamonds against the canvas of the night sky.
The shared stillness remained comfortable, before you posed a soft interruption to the quietude, "Captain, do you ever think about your future?"
Levi's eyes briefly left the constellations above, attention shifting to you. "Yes, it usually ranges from the next second to the next few months. Which area of land outside the walls to explore, how defensive operations should alter for the next month, which day certain intelligen-”
“Captain-” You interrupted, then hesitated, the vulnerability of the topic making your heart race. "I meant a peaceful future, like having a family, kids?"
Levi's brow furrowed slightly. The thought of it was unfamiliar, impossible. "In this war? That’s far-fetched," he remarked, gaze returning to the stars.
A subtle smile grew on your lips as scenarios played at the back of your mind. "I know, of course, but don’t you ever imagine it? A life after the war, a future where Titans are just stories we tell our children." Levi's expression softened, a fleeting hint of wistfulness in his eyes.
"Like sometimes I think if I had children, I’d take them to play by the oceans, make adorable lunch sets," you continued, "how beautiful they would look if they had your eyes…" Embarrassment started flushing up as you realised you rambled on way too far.
His eyes widened imperceptibly, caught completely off guard by your comment.
"WAIT, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean having them with YOU, of course... definitely not…" You trailed off, a splash of pink painfully obvious on your cheeks. Get yourself together y/n, what on earth are you saying to your captain?
“Ouch.” A flicker of disappointment crossed his features. Levi cleared his throat, seemingly caught in the unexpected turn of the conversation. "Well aren’t you very in objection to that idea." he snickered, hiding a trace of sorrow beneath his face.
“Nevermind, I’m sorry, please forget what I said." You apologised in the tense atmosphere.
But Levi didn't dismiss it. Instead, his mind seemingly remained lost in contemplation. "How will your children have my eyes, if they don't have my genetics?" Determined to disprove your faulty reasoning.
You chuckled nervously, "I just mean I hope they’ll be a pretty colour, and delicate shape, like yours."
Levi displayed a rare vulnerability in his expression. He had never given thought to the aesthetic of his eyes; they were simply a part of him, a feature he never considered noteworthy. This was the first time he had received a compliment about them, and it left him momentarily speechless.
"At this rate, my most optimistic guesstimate is that I’ll be slaying titans till I’m 60." You broke the awkwardness joking, "in that case I might not be able to have kids, doubt any man would still take my crinkled self on a date anyway."
"Why not?" Levi replied seriously, his voice a soft echo in the tranquil night. "I won't be even a tiny bit surprised if you're still this beautiful at 85."
A blood-bathed blush adorned your complexion, stomach filling with butterflies and warmth, brain connections zapping around - wondering if he really thought that way, or,
“you’re just saying that.”
Levi sighed, “in all your years of knowing me, when have I ever felt obliged to tell a white lie, Comrade?”
"Right…” You muttered, with all sorts of thoughts doing laps beneath your skull, trying to continue the conversation as level-headed as possible. “Perhaps I'll meet my first love at 99,” a giggle escaping your breath as you joked.
Unexpectedly, Levi's response carried a weight that belied the casual banter. "Well. I think people can be in love without being in a formal relationship. You could easily have your first love now."
Your gaze laid upon his side profile, slightly puzzled by his logic, "but how can you be in love with someone without holding hands, saying mushy things, and all that?"
His head turned towards you, a moment of silence filling the air with eyes drilling into yours, revealing a sincerity that tugged at your heart. "I definitely can."
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Peace | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader (fem!District12!Baird!reader)
Summary: Coriolanus Snow never thought that he would find peace, until he did.
Warning/s: Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, talk about death (reader is alive, don't worry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: Inspired by one and only Taylor Swift.
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Our coming-of-age has come and gone
Suddenly the summer, it's clear
I never had the courage of my convictions
As long as danger is near
And it's just around the corner, darling
'Cause it lives in me
No, I could never give you peace
Coriolanus Snow could swear that the rustling of the grass beneath his shoes couldn't be louder as he walked in the Meadow.
However, even though he felt an odd irritation towards that, he felt good. He was finally able to get rid of his Peacekeeper white uniform which he replaced with a simple white shirt and some gray pants that he found. His dog tag was still hanging from around his neck. He forgot to take it off from all of the haste when he was trying to find you as fast as he possibly could once his shift ended for the day.
The wind was dancing gracefully across the leaves on the trees surrounding the always oh so peaceful Meadow just a little outside of the border of District 12.
District 12.
Coriolanus Snow was still a little bit doubtful when it came to the loser District.
He could remember his hated towards, well, everyone and everything when he found out that he was going to be deported for the Peacekeepers. He could still remember that empty feeling when he sat at, what seemed like, the most uncomfortable chair in the world as someone started to cut his blonde locks away.
He lost everything. Every hope for the better.
That is up until it was reported to him that he could chose any District in all of the Panem that he wished.
Coriolanus could've been deported to a nice, clean District like 1 or 2. Yet he chose the poorest District of all. The words "District 12" left his mouth without the second thought when the authorities asked him where he wanted to be deported. He didn't even speare one single thought as he said it.
He asked himself, why did he do it? The question wouldn't leave his mind. It haunted him every day. It clouded his ever racing mind.
Why did he do it?
Yet now, he finally spotted a figure sitting on a giant rock, playing the guitar while muttering the words as she tried to write yet another masterpiece that he was going to cherish forever.
Your hair was flowing around in the wind as your fingers graced the strings of your guitar that Coriolanus got for you from the Capitol.
He tried to stay as quiet as he possibly could. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want you to stop singing so he froze once he got close enough so he could listen to you for a bit.
Even the mockingjays on the trees seemed to quiet down as you played the guitar. They were soaking up every melody, every note that you decided to grace the word with.
"And it's just around the corner, darling
'Cause it lives in me"
Your melodic voice rang around the Meadow. So quiet yet so powerful. Graced with softness and pure care. He didn't deserve you. He knew that.
Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that truly mattered was the fact that you were alive.
Every doubt he had racing, cursing, his mind vanished forevermore as he listened to you sing and play your guitar, when he saw you performing with the rest of the Covey, your family, the night after he got deported to 12.
Right now, nothing was more important to him than you. He didn't care about his deportation, about Dr. Gaul, about Highbottom.
Maybe he was clueless. Maybe it was his fault for letting himself feel vulnerable in this very moment in the Meadow outside of 12. Or maybe he was just young and dumb for finally letting his guard down... but he felt like there was hope for him at last. Because you were here. You were alive, and if he had to mess up his reputation and lose everything once more just so he could here the sweetest of melodies leaving your lips he was sure that he would do it.
"No, I could never give you peace"
But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm
If your cascade ocean wave blues come
All these people think love's for show
But I would die for you in secret
The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
Coriolanus felt himself freeze completely.
His brain nor his body was working anymore as he watched the screen along with the rest of his classmates that were chosen to be mentors for this year's tributes in the Hunger Games.
The scene was tough to watch. He wanted to look away yet he found himself unable to do so.
No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rip his eyes away from the screen that showed reaping the tribute he was supposed to mentor.
A girl from District 12.
He felt uneasy the moment he found out who he was supposed to be mentoring, he felt like his hope was lost. His hope for winning the Plinth Prize and repearing his reputation was ruined. He was ruined.
But now, as he watched you step in after your name was called out, he felt unfamiliar feeling of pure warmth growing and spreading in his chest, consuming him completely. The feeling was unknown, it made him feel weak. Out of control. He hated it.
Yet, as Coriolanus watched your hair bounce as you stepped out of the crowd in the middle of the square, he felt like he would fight the devil himself just so he could make sure that you were safe, that you were going to get out of the arena alive.
He watched your expression and your posture. You were trying to appear as calm and unbothered as possible. You were successful in your attempt, but he saw right through it.
Perhaps it was because he found himself in the similar position as he watched you or perhaps he simply observed a bit too closely.
Whatever it was, it did not prepare Coriolanus Snow for what was about to happen.
°
Why am I here? What am I doing?
These are the questions Coriolanus asked himself as he unintentionally, yet at the same time quite intentionally, tried to seek some warmth from his red Academy's uniform in his pathetic attempts to warm himself up a bit in the middle of a very cold night on his way over to the zoo where you were forced to stay before the games started.
The food wrapped in a handkerchief that had his father's initials on it started to feel too heavy in the pocket of his uniform.
Feeling the cold shiver run down his spine he realized that it's not from cold or from the fear of the Peacekeepers blocking his way over to you in the middle of the night. No. It was something else. Something he was aware of, but couldn't yet admit it to himself.
He watched every step he took so as to not startle you in the cage of the zoo.
As he got closer, he realized that he saw a figure in the dark leaned against the bars of the zoo's cage.
It was you, of course. You were looking up at the sky as your hair slightly flew around in the light, cold night's breeze.
At first he thought that his plan to play star-crossed lovers was a dumb call. That it was bad. Mentor falling desperately, hopelessly in love with his tribute was just madness and quite a desperate attempt to draw some good public's attention to give you a shot at surviving in the arena was quite pitiful, truly. Where was his head at, at that moment? Who would ever fall for that nonsense?
But as he saw how the people thrived for a tragic pair of star-crossed lovers and as he realized that good citizens of the Capitol loved a good tragic story, he came to a conclusion that maybe all of this was actually worth it.
More importantly, as he called out your name quietly as to not startle you and alert other tributes he figured that it was a right call after all.
Especially when, even tho a part of him didn't want to, as he came over to you on the other side of the bars, gave you food that he smuggled from the Academy, wiped your long lost tear as it streamed down your beautiful cheek, as he soked in your beauty, admired your gentil kindness and finally as he kissed you like he needs you more than an oxygen that he has to breath over the empty space in the middle of the bars, he wasn't really pretending after all.
Yet when it was time for him to go home just so his absence doesn't go noticed by grandma'am and Tigris, he asked you one thing that was bothering him, eating him alive. One thing that caused him absolute despair from the moment he met you.
"Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" He whispered in the darkness as he held his hand against your cheek like you were the most delicate rose.
Your integrity makes me seem small
You paint dreamscapes on the wall
I talk shit with my friends
It's like I'm wasting your honor
Coriolanus Snow was hurrying towars the room in the Capitol's Academy in which he will be able to monitor the games along with some of his classmates.
He had to stay at home to help his grandma'am much longer than the would've liked. He was in such a hurry that once he got to the door he literally pushed it open with full force.
He strolled down effortlessly over to his chair so he could look over you as he heard the voice of one and only Lucky Flickerman.
"Now that is an entrance I'm jealous of."
Coriolanus ignored him.
He sat down next to Sejanus Plinth as he reasted his head on his hand as soon as he did that, the look of pure stress overflow his features as his piercing blue eyes locked themselves on the screen watching you.
"I may be wrong." He heard the voice of Sejanus Plinth as he stared at the screen, not looking away. "But it seems to me that you actually, genuinely care about whether or not she makes it out alive."
Coriolanus felt himself freeze for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to gain his composure back.
"I don't-"
"Don't lie to me, Coryo."
He kept his mouth shut after that.
And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences
Sit with you in the trenches
Give you my wild, give you a child
Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other
Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother
Is it enough?
Coriolanus Snow could still remember the feeling of slight cold breeze as he hoped off of the train in 12 for the first time ever.
His boots stepped right into mud and he closed his eyes for a moment in slight annoyance. What an amazing way to alive here and do the things he was ordered to do.
He gripped more tightly just in hope to gain more confidence that he could actually pull through with this.
He stepped forward, letting out a puf of breath to steady himself.
Just as he was about to step after the rest of the new recruits as the one who is last in line he heard something that he hoped he would hear again. A voice which belonged to the person for whom he decided to go to the poorest District, paying the last bit of money he owned.
"Coryo!" Your voice shouted and he turned around slowly, almost not believing that you're here.
You ran as fast as you could just to get to him as fast as possible.
Your hair was flying around as your ran, the back of your dress dragging itself after you. The lightness of your steps, the graceful way you carried yourself, your eyes, your lips, you.
You collided against him, throwing your hands around his neck as you gripped on his shoulders as tightly as you possibly could, afraid that he will disappear from your grasp once again.
You looked so out of place. You were like a finest, most beautiful rose of all, but that rose grew in the middle of the mud. It fascinated him.
He wrapped his arms around you instantly, gripping your body strongly yet at the same time gently as he brought you to his body even closer. You felt like if he pulled you any closer the two of you would become one person.
He hid his face into your neck, breathing in your flowery scent. It smelled like home. Home which he was forcefully ripped away from, but now he was finally able to return.
"How did you-? What-?" He stuttered, couldn't get the words out.
"Tigris told me you were about to become a Peacekeeper." You got out, still holding onto his arm, your gripp still tight, afraid of losing him again. "However, Sejanus told me that you would arrive to 12."
This took him a back a little.
"You spoke with Tigris?" He asked, his voice not hiding his utter, but non the less happy, shock.
"We wrote to each other." You answered with a smile. "She's amazing, truly."
He couldn't be happier at this moment, he was so happy that it scared him.
But maybe, as he watched your smile and took your hand into his, pressing your palms against each other, he realized that just maybe life in the poorest District won't be as bad as he was afraid.
But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west
I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best
But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me
One thing was for sure, life after the games was not easy.
You would have nightmares. He didn't know about them, you wouldn't told him. That is up until the rest of your family met up with him on a picnic day.
You looked so tired, so pale, you weren't acting like your usual self. It scared him.
That's when Lucy Gray pulled him aside after she saw his worried gaze on you the entire day. What she told him ripped his heart and shattered every piece.
"She's screaming at night." Lucy Gray whispered just so you wouldn't catch them, not that you could, you were so tired you were barely awake. "She has nightmares about the arena."
When he later on confronted you about your nightmares just so he could help you somehow you broke down.
You told him that maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be with her. You were sad a lot more often, the screaming because of nightmares and everything else haunted you.
Before you could say anything else, tho. He kissed you like he would die without you.
"You're safe with me." He mumbled against your lips. "We can have a future here together, that is if you will have me."
"Of course I will Coryo, but-"
"No but's, then, my love." He told you, taking the handkerchief out of nowhere as he wiped away your tears that continued to stream down your face.
"Here, away from every harm, away from the games... maybe I could finally give you peace."
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
->
->
->
TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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wosoamazing · 1 month
Text
Abandoned?
Warnings: Injury, serious chest injury, ambulance, hospitals, parental abandonment, mentions of death. A/N: In this fic the most recent international break was friendlies… This was a request from someone on wattpad.
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It was the 25th minute when Fox kicked a ball, unfortunately for you it came hurtling towards you and before you could move out of the way it crash into your chest, the sound of the ball connecting with your upper torso reverberated through the stadium as you collapsed to the ground from the force, you immediately grabbed your chest as you rolled around the pitch clearly in agony, medics from both teams were on the pitch before the game was paused, there was no time to waste. 
Your chest felt tight, it felt like someone squeezed your heart every time it beat, you could almost feel bubbles ‘pop’ in your chest, and your chest heaved with every breath as you struggled to get air in, whilst also feeling incredible pain every time you sucked in the slightest bit of air.
The stadium was dead silent, it was like there wasn’t a single soul there. And when the ref finally blew the whistle after what felt like hours, the ambo cart immediately raced its way across the pitch to where you laid, surrounded by medics. Sheets were quickly brought onto the pitch and held up around you by various training staff of both teams to provide some protection against the various cameras that surrounded you, an announcement was made informing all media to seize action of cameras however that wouldn’t have stopped the public from trying to get photos.
-
Leah felt time slow down when you hit the pitch, she felt her body freeze, she was standing there staring at the spot you laid surrounding my medics, and paramedics, she didn’t know what to feel, it was almost like her body had forgotten to feel. All your fellow teammates stood there watching her, not knowing whether they should go over to her or not, however when they saw the sheets being brought out they knew it was bad, it basically never happened. Lucy started to make her way over to their Skipper, Kiera and Georgia followed behind her, knowing Leah needed support in this moment. They watched her fall to her knees as announcement was made, leaning forward, burying her face into the grass, her shoulders shook harshly as sobs wracked her body. A circle was formed around them by the USWNT as they tried to comfort Leah. Leah had absolutely broken down, she didn't know how to feel, she was just hoping, praying for dear life that they weren't resuscitating you behind those sheets. You lived with Leah, spending almost every second of every day with her, she didn't know what would happen, how she would cope if you left her.
Diagonally across the pitch from the circle, stood Lotte, who had her arms around Fox, the American cried into her shoulder, he body shook as her fellow arsenal teammates tried to comfort her, reassuring her that this wasn't her fault and that it would be okay.
-
A paramedic was running over to the crowd and waved a man down who was brought onto the pitch, he was one of the Trauma Doctors at St Mary’s and just happened to watching the game with his family on his day off, “Update us” he said as he made his way through the sheets with the paramedic, “pulse is thready, bpm of 163, clear respiratory distress, muffled chest sounds, GCS score unattainable,” “c-spine collar,” you were placed into a neck brace, “prep for an on field thoracostomy,” someone said, before your jersey was cut off and the cold air hit your skin as they disinfected the area, “this is going to hurt, stabilise her,” you felt a knife cut into you and you moaned out in pain, before something was stuck in your chest, and an oxygen mask was placed over your face, you felt a pair of hands leave your body, and heard the sound of heavy boots crunch in the wet cool grass, indicating someone was running somewhere. 
“Ready for transfer,” there was a silence, “on my count, 1,2,3,” your body was held straight as you were tipped on your side, the movement causing you to feel slightly dizzy and you could almost hear bugs in your ears, something hard and cold was placed against your back “and 1,2,3,” you were tipped onto your back again, now lying on the backboard, as the foam blocks were placed next to your head and secured your world started to go a little hazy, as someone readjusted the tube that was stuck in your chest.
“Stay with us y/n,” you tried to open your eyes further but you couldn’t and suddenly everything went black.
________
“And the parents are on their way? Or so I’ve heard,” you faintly heard someone say as they stood outside your room. You had just woken up, and everything was still slightly hazy.
You quickly came to at those words, you eyes widened, and you felt your chest start to get tight again, your heart pounded, you were shaking, your breath was ragged, “I-I don’t want to see them,” you stammered out as you shook your head, and tears started to fall from your eyes, Leah didn’t know ones heart could break so many times in one day but here she was, feeling her heart break for at least the second time. She quickly got up so she could be closer to you, taking your hands in hers, “No baby,” she shook her head, face etched with pain, no matter how much you hated your parents, she knew this was going to hurt. “It’s not them anymore, they, they,” she let out a heavy sigh, “they gave you up, they signed away their rights. When they got the call, they said that it wasn’t their duty to make the decisions or to take care of you, they, they said they didn’t want to be associated with you, they came to the hospital, purely to sign the papers to give away their guardianship,” Leah watched as a range of emotions crossed your face, you couldn’t believe it, yes they had already kicked you out and you barely spoke. But this was different. This was something else. This was complete abandonment, they didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. “I’m sorry baby, I’m so so sorry, I-” Leah was cut off my the loud alarm sounding on the monitor, your panic had caused your heart rate to get to high and your oxygen levels too low, your chest heaved with every breath again, and you could feel it burn as oxygen entered your lungs, but that pain was nothing, nothing could ever compare to the feeling of being disowned legally by your parents. Knowing they travelled all the way to the hospital, just to sign a piece of paper to say they didn't love you anymore.
You had just finished facetiming Kyra, Steph and Caitlin, when you turned your head to face Leah, who was sitting in the chair near your bed, her face seemed serious as she read something on her phone.
“We aren’t playing Bristol City,” she suddenly announced “well obviously,” you rolled your eyes at her, “no like the club isn’t, they forfeited,” “oh,” you paused for a minute, “I want to see Emily,” you blurted out, the thought having been circling your mind for the last however long.
“I don’t think that is the best idea, B-” “But why? It’s not her fault, she did nothing wrong,” “That’s not the reason why bubs, Emily is struggling at the moment, she knows it wasn’t her fault, but she feels like it is, because she kicked the ball, she didn't mean to hit you, but she does feel guilty, she feels like she just shouldn’t have kicked the ball.” You nodded your head, and picked up your phone, scrolling through instagram, when you came across statements from both Arsenal and England.
An update from the England Lionesses: Y/N is in a stable condition, she is awake and talking. Her recovery will be in the hands of her club and we wish her all the best. We ask that out of respect for the players and those involved that no photos or videos taken during/after the incident are shared, these players are people too and deserve privacy. We are thankful for all our fans' support and apologise for the abandonment of the match, all tickets will be refunded. 
Arsenal WFC have released a statement: After discussions with our players, staff, Bristol City and the FA we have come to the decision that we will be forfeiting our next fixture in the WSL against Bristol City, we understand what this decision means and how it affects our position in the table however we must keep our players wellbeing at the forefront during this time period and in no way would it be fair or right of us to ask any of our players to play a match in the coming days. The incident involving y/n has affected every single one of our players deeply and we want to be able to take the next few days to focus on their wellbeing and health, something we could not do if we were to have a game. We would like to reassure the public that y/n is in safe hands and is in a stable condition. 
As you finished reading the statement from Arsenal you felt your bottom lip start to quiver, you looked over to Leah who was once again looking at her phone,  “I’m sorry,” “for what?” she softly asked, “for scaring everyone, I-I didn’t mean to,” you quietly spoke as soft tears fell from your eyes, “hey, hey, none of that, it wasn’t anyone's fault okay, we all just care about you and want to make sure you’re okay,” she reassured you as she moved to sit with you in the bed, “okay” you said as you moved to lean your head back on her shoulder, “I love you so much, we all do, never forget that,”
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hana-no-seiiki · 7 months
Text
YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT ME NOT F*CK ME!
yan! school grass (most handsome/perfect guy)/rival x crossdresser! male! reader x yan! friends - part one
tw/cw: mention of abusive parents (but not reader’s) and yandere themes. also your rival has some repressed sexual urges, he really needs to get laid or some head or something-
just read migi and dali and gahd NOW I WANNA WRITE A WHOLE CROSSDRESS /GENDERBENDER BL NOVEL IM IN HORRID ROTTING
Like I imagine this the best with stoic and/or tsun yans the best. You know those types that want to be perfect but only feels perfect when they’re with reader.
ive always loved these tropes as a kid, from mulan to that one tawog episode where darwin fell in love with fem! gumball and like this was even before i knew i wasnt cis but gahd AAAAAAA
also inspired by @moyazaika ‘s rival work. go read it!!
but anyways have the fic, lowercase intentional for first part to differentiate povs.
it was a dare given by your friend group earlier last weekend. wear the girls uniform and a wig for the entire month. it was easy to get the materials necessary for the most part. your mother had several wigs and was more than happy to style her son in feminine clothing. she was just amazing and supportive about your whims like that.
it didn’t take long for you to realize that no one recognized you in your new look.
the day started like many of your other ones at the school, you’d race your rival as the first one in class and whoever wins gets rights to a smug look on their face until the next thing you guys eventually compete on.
but unlike the crestfallen expression you expected — nay wanted — from that stupid pretty boy, you were greeted by what you could only described as complete bafflement.
“what?” despite having a different reaction from what you imagined, you managed to keep a composed appearance. “cat got your tongue?”
“ah. . .”
and that were the only words he said to you the entire day. nothing else. not a single groan of anger whenever you answered everything correctly, he didn’t even attempt at stopping you mid-way or disagree with you answer simply because he wanted to annoy you.
and so you couldn’t help it, as soon as the bell rang signalling lunch time you swiftly turned around to face him.
“are you alright?”
you inquired. not at all worried about his well-being at the slightest. you hated him with all your being after all and you didn’t make an effort to be soft with your tone either.
“h-huh?” he looked dazed. like his head had been in the clouds and you just yanked him down to ground.
your rival never got distracted.
“you—“ you reached out about to smack his face to keep him in check.
“if you’ll excuse me!” he smacked your hand out of the way, screeched at you, and then left in a hurry to who knows where.
nevermind that was definitely him. that silly brat hated it whenever you touched him. he must have just been having issues at home again or something.
Haoyu was trembling — shaking uncontrollably as his breaths turned more shallow by the second. His heart was pumping blood in places of his body where it shouldn’t have been in the middle of school hours. Sweat lined his entire skin and it didn’t help how the bathroom he rushed into had nothing to keep the temperature down.
Who were you?
You sat at his rival’s seat. That nasty kid that always got in his nerves. No one questioned the boy’s absence and he would have asked the teachers on what had happened if you didn’t suddenly take his breath away.
You were, ethereal. Otherworldy even. When he first saw you he was taken away by the way your hair moved in the wind (if only he knew . . .).
Still, he was far too distracted by [Y/N]’s absence to properly let the feeling simmer.
Then, all that went away when you reeled in his mind back at you again at class. You were incredible, capable, intelligent, and oh so perfect. But unlike that stupid child that usually sat in front of him, he did not feel an ounce of envy at all.
If only who could see your eyes as you spoke; the tone of your voice conveyed so much passion that he wanted to see in those beautiful (e/c) orbs.
And his prayers were granted by none other than the goddess that is you,
“Are you alright?”
Your voice? Oh your voice! Haoyu’s heard it already of course, but each new time you spoke it was like a whole new melody, a new piece that immediately turned into his favorite.
His mind was too fried with these thoughts, thoughts that his parents would no doubt beat out of him if they found out.
His feels the parts down there suddenly move. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the phenomenon. He wasn’t without his hormones after all. But this was the first time it ever reacted that way so strongly, like if he didn’t give it attention himself it’d explode.
“Mmph…”
And for the time in his entire life, Haoyu does something he knew his parents would definitely be disappointed if not livid about. A hand on his mouth, and another in his school uniform’s pants.
lunch time.
you usually spent those studying or preparing for the next class as hanging out with your friends always ended with you being too distracted to do schoolwork but today you had to show up with ‘proof’ that you went through with their dare.
“yiran ? yichen ?”
no response.
you sighed. as usual, the twins were late. what did you expect? those two would be caught dead before they could be early much less found in the library.
and so you spent the entire time reading,
unaware of the crowd that formed around you while you were busy studying.
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verstarppen · 7 months
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omg i saw you said you needed logan requests and i have so got you 🫶🫶 maybe he like gets with one of the other driver’s sisters or something and in order to soft launch she starts posting like a ton of american cliches yk like red white and blue, fishing, american foods and stuff like that idk lol i just thought it would be funny and cute and then they like hard launch by him posting something celebrating wherever she’s from maybe??
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summary; the ricciardo urge to be obsessed with america takes a whole new meaning when your relationship with the only american on the grid is revealed...because of kinder eggs
pairing; logan sargeant x fem! ricciardo! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; this goes out to @wtfisakilometer2 and the logan trenches anon i hope you're both reading this because it's for you and you only
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liked by danielricciardo, liamlawson30, maxverstappen1 and 295,199 others
ynricciardo oh fr? on cod?
view all 99,956 comments
liamlawson30 cough cough
ynricciardo once i get your funko i will chew his arms off
danielricciardo Always nice to see you touching grass
ynricciardo hilarious
pierregasly Free him from the land prison
ynricciardo go thank the lord it's not you on that rod
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liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, ynricciardo and 596,395 others
f1 BREAKING: Logan Sargeant will not race in Austin GP due to health problems
view all 100,700 comments
eastcoastbearman WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED
baconforza it's qatar's fault im telling you
logansargeant It's just a cold, guys. Thank you all for the support and get well soon messages 😊
roboclaren YOU'LL EAT THEM IN LAS VEGAS MARK MY WORDS 🦅🇺🇸 realmvettel DON'T DIE ON US WE HAVE HISTORY TO MAKE
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant, landonorris and 821,223 others
ynricciardo WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETERRRRRRR 🦅🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸 RAHHHH
view all 102,222 comments
verstappler i know danny's little texas loving heart is melting rn
lionkingseb going for a rival's sister is not the williams strategy we expected
patiencesainz is it in the ricciardo genes to love murica this much
troubletauri HOW DID THIS HAPPEN
egggrosjean missing a gp to care for the gf made me respect this man
landonorris STOP IGNORING MY TEXTS
ynricciardo you're obsessed with me logansargeant 🤨 ynricciardo im running an illegal funko kinder distribution mafia ring don't worry about it babe
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
blog taglist: @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 @allygatcr  (first logan points how are we feeling)
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Text
1.8k / 22 / soap soulmate au, part 3
Oh, shit, Ghost thinks. What the hell did you just do?
Ghost stumbles out in the road, looking after you in shock. You just... jumped out. In handcuffs. There's no way you think you can make it anywhere like--
Oh, double shit. You're running right for the cliffs in the distance. Looks like you might make it, too. That ain't good. Morally justified or not, he's still the criminal here. If you get to rough terrain and he loses you by car and on foot, you’ll go for help, and his squad won’t stand a chance.
He swears, grabs his pistol, and points it at your back.
He has a clear shot. He's sniped easier targets.
… He sighs and lowers his gun. Johnny, you owe me one.
You've got a good head start on him, but when he eventually catches up, he's going to be pissed.
Your ankle and hand sting from your rough landing. Adrenaline pumping, heart racing--you've got to get to those cliffs, and fast.
Behind you, the engine roars closer. Wheels crunch over gravel. He’s catching up. But the cliffs are right there. A river snakes through the rocky terrain. If you can just throw yourself across the water, you can make it. You can lose him on foot.
You pump your legs as fast as you can. The wind burns in your lungs. Keep moving. Just a few more seconds before you reach the water.
You’re so focused on the water that your foot lands wrong between river rocks and your ankle twists. You keep going, gait lopsided. You can’t stop. Once he catches up, you’re either a hostage again or you’re dead. But first, he's gotta catch up, get out of the car, open the door, grab his gun, sprint after you--
Then his car swings around you, pulling what should be an impossible drift over the rocks, one tire scattering river water into the air. You skid to a stop, making a break for the cliffs instead. There's a waterfall. You might make it if you jump--
Then Ghost is on you, a blur from the open car door to the edge of the rocks. He grabs you almost out of the air. You land stomach-first on the ground. You grunt, windless, gasping for air. Pain surges through your body. Fuck, that hurt. The rocks are harder than the grass was. You see stars.
Then you start to realize the position you're in. Your hands are still cuffed in front of you--over your head, now--and he's got his knee on your back. He's holding you down with all his weight, the barrel of his pistol pressed between your shoulders as he grits his teeth.
"Stay. Down," he growls.
He's not gentle. It'd be inconvenient to kill you, but you're really testing his sense of pragmatism. You're making him expend a hell of a lot of effort to keep you alive--jumping off a cliff, fucking seriously?--so he doesn't owe you any extra effort toward keeping you comfortable. Quite the opposite.
You shift your pained body under his knee, groaning into the sharp river rocks cradling your face.
"I said stay down," he growls, grinding his knee down against your back. You feel every individual sharp rock pressing into your skin. "I will hurt you.”
Normally he doesn’t give warnings like this, but he figures he owes it to Johnny to keep your stupid pretty face intact. As much as he wants to put a dent in it right now. And if you keep acting all resourceful…
You keep still, trying to catch your breath. Your hands curl around the river rocks and feel around for something loose and sharp. No such luck.
He grabs your shoulder with one hand to keep you still. His knee moves off your back for a second. You realize he’s trying to get a better look at the soulmate mark on your neck.
"Got to be another John MacTavish somewhere in the world," he mutters. "Bloody common name."
He grips the back of your vest and hauls you to your feet, practically scruffing you as he drags you back to the car. He growls something under his breath along the lines of irritating little shits finding each other.
Back in the car, Ghost’s phone rings again. This time, he glances back at you and switches his phone to his non-dominant hand. He picks up his pistol with his other hand and steers with his knee.
“Ghost,” he answers. This time, the reply has him shifting in his seat. “Negative. Didn’t see her.” Another long pause. The voice on the other end is louder and more animated than the one before. “I told you I’d look, and I did. Wherever she is, she’s fine.” The reply is clipped. “The captain told you not to go looking. Chrissake, Johnny, you’re not hanging out at base looking for a date. You’re a wanted criminal. Have a crumb of self-preservation.” Another long reply, this one rising in volume. “I know. Yes. I hear you. I know— Johnny—”
He goes quiet for a long while, uttering single-syllable responses occasionally. You can’t hear Johnny’s words, but you do hear his tone of voice. He doesn't sound happy.
“If the captain tells you to stay put, you stay put. End of story.”
You glance at the rear-view mirror again. Ghost is looking back like this is somehow on you. The sour face of a man getting chewed out.
Ghost and Johnny go back and forth until Ghost finally seems to tire of it. "No, not right now," he says. "I told you what I know. I’ll call you back."
Johnny curses from the other line right as Ghost hangs up.
Your fingertips are still tingling from the sound of Johnny’s voice, even at a distance, even over the phone. Maybe from the cuffs, too.
You don’t miss the irritated look on Ghost's face. "You in trouble?" you ask.
Ghost doesn’t hold your gaze. "He's a little pissed off, yeah."
After that, you don't speak for a long time. Your whole body hurts, and the adrenaline and sheer length of this day are taking a toll. Your eyelids sag. But every time you drift into sleep, you see Johnny's face again and jerk awake. It's torture. You don't have the mental fortitude to block him out anymore. You’re terrified that wherever Ghost is taking you, Johnny will be there.
You lean your forehead on the window, squeezing your eyes shut. "So..."
"What." There's no venom behind the response this time. He doesn't bother looking at you. But he's listening.
It takes longer than you'd like to work the words you're trying to form out of your throat. "John is still in one piece?”
He keeps driving in silence for a moment. You can almost hear his brain ticking as he considers. There's a tenseness behind him, a tension that's wound up and ready to snap.
"Yeah. Got a few holes in him, but it takes more than that to keep him down. Stubborn bastard." Another long, heavy silence. His hands grip the wheel, and he glares ahead. "Got a problem with that?"
"I'm not sure."
"You got issues with Johnny, you tell me. Got enough problems without you being all coy."
“Do you, uh, have a soulmate?”
Christ, he hopes you're kidding. He can only take so much of this from Johnny, and now you? Obviously Johnny hasn’t stoppedtalking about you. Can’t stop talking about what a pretty thing you are. Face like a muse, he keeps saying. Bastard described you in so much detail that, when Ghost was surveying the Las Almas base, you popped out like a neon sign the moment his sniper scope swept over you. He could've grabbed any damn Shadow, but no, he decided to do Johnny a favor and grab you. Now he can't bloody shoot you no matter how much you deserve it. Lucky Johnny’s not here to see what a bloody mess you’ve made of yourself under his watch. Not that he tells you any of that. Best to keep Johnny in the dark until they get the information they need out of you.
"You're a hostage," he says. "Act like it. And Johnny's off the table."
That’s a relief. You dread the thought of looking Johnny in the eye and trying to figure out how to make excuses for almost killing him. You can only hope to delay it as long as possible.
It turns out the "base" Ghost spoke of is a shed in the middle of nowhere. A barn at best—from the outside, but from the inside, it’s huge. You recognize a few members of the Mexican Special Forces, also your former allies before your company betrayed them on Shepherd’s orders. Rodolfo in particular gives you a hard stare as Ghost drags you past him and into a much smaller room. It's a weapons closet converted into a makeshift interrogation room. He pushes you down into the chair hard by the shoulder. You lean on the table, flexing your sore wrists behind you and wishing you could just put your head down and sleep.
He keeps a close eye on you once you're down. You show no clear desire to run again and no more than a passing interest in the impressive spread of rifles and launchers on the walls. You’re in the heart of an enemy safehouse. Even if you managed to grab a gun and escape this room, every other person outside wants you dead. You’re almost glad Ghost locks the door. At least there’s a barrier between you and them.
In the dim light, Ghost notes the bruise on your cheek and the scabbed-over cuts and gashes littered over your exposed skin. Your forehead sports a nasty, wet-looking burgundy splotch where your head hit the ground after he tackled you. You look about as defenseless as a wounded rabbit. If he weren’t busy trying to keep you from escaping as a hostage, he’d probably feel bad about hurting a friend's soulmate.
He's not his most charming self here.
"Stay awake, now," he warns you.
The overhead light clicks on. Ghost stands across from you, but the person standing by the light switch is Captain fucking Price. He stares at you, his hard gaze boring into the soulmate mark on your neck.
Then he smiles. "Good find, Ghost," he says. "This is the one. Guess Soap wasn't lying."
part 1 / part 2 / [part 3] / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10
more Soap / masterlist tag
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rainylana · 19 days
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“Takin’ care of my best girl.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: reader has a panic attack during the night.
warnings: panic attack, anxiety, tears and descriptions of anxiety symptoms, hurt/comfort, fear of allergic reaction/throat swelling.
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You’re sitting on the porch. The air is cool and breezy against your face, the moon shines a calming light on the grass in from of you, making it shimmer. There’s cats roaming in trash cans. Maybe they’re raccoons, actually. It was a beautiful night, but you weren’t really able to enjoy it.
Your heart was pounding, head aching and body trembling with fear, a fear you didn’t know what it exactly was. Your stomach was so twisted with knots and nerves you thought you’d surely pass out. It hurt to breath. You couldn’t breath. Your hands were cradling your head, holding your body tight and hoping it would pass.
It always passed. It always went away and you were always okay. They didn’t normally get this bad. You were getting so much better at handling them. For some reason tonight wasn’t the case. You debated waking Eddie up, but you hated keeping him up with you when you got this way. It wasn’t fair to him.
You had tried all the things to help you. You squeezed an ice cub in your palm, took a cold shower, tried watching to tv to distract yourself. You couldn’t stop swallowing, testing to see if your throat was closing up, which was now raw and irritated from your constant swallowing. You tried taking deep breaths, hands shaking as you placed a hand over your chest, grasping at your shirt.
Once you thought you were getting better, it would start up again. The sudden racing of your heart that made you breathless. After a few minutes, you began to pace, gripping at your chest and willing it to go away. What if there was something wrong with you? Were your lungs actually closing? Were you having an allergic reaction?
That’s what got you every time. You always thought you were dying, and you never were.
You needed to go to the hospital. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d been to the er many times for panic attacks, but what if it was serious this time? With trembling legs you walked back inside to your bedroom, rounding the bed and shaking Eddie urgently.
“Eddie?” Your still holding your chest. “Eddie?”
His eyes flutter open, squinting in the dark. “Hmm?”
“I’m scared.” You say, bringing up a nail to bite. “I think something might be wrong.”
Those key words had him sitting up, rubbing his eyes. He leans over and switches on the light, looking up to take you in. He knows what’s wrong immediately, lifting the blanket so he can get out of bed. “What’s going on?” His voice is tired and gruff. “You anxious about something?”
You shake your head yes, grasping at your throat. “I- I uh, I think my throat might be swelling up. Maybe I ate something.”
He nods slowly, bringing his hands up to ghost at your arms. “What brought this on? Did it just start?”
“No, I’ve been up awhile.” You say, trying to swallow again. You do, but harshly, pushing out a choked breath that has you pacing around the room. “Eddie, I’m scared.”
“You’re alright, baby.” He’s following you, grabbing your hand. “Come on, let’s go out to the living room.” He guides you out there, sitting you on the kitchen chair by the stove. “I’ll make you some tea.”
Your eyes start to well up and you shake your head. “No, I- I think we should go to the hospital, Eddie.” Your voice came out desperate.
He’d done this with you so many times, yet the urgency and fear in your voice always made him nervous, even though he knew you were completely fine. He puts the tea in the microwave, setting it for two minutes before he’s crouching in front of you. “Hey,” He’s grasping your face. “You’re alright. You know that. We just have to work through it okay? Like we always do.”
You let out a sob that makes his heart ache, a tear dropping town to his wrist. “But I’m scared.”
“I know you are.” He coos, petting your hair. “If you really want to go I’ll take you, but you’re strong enough to fight this, baby. I’m right here with you, right? We can get through this.” He leans up and kisses your forehead, then your cheek, going back to the microwave to let you think.
Your knee is bouncing quickly, your knuckles tapping at the table like you’re trying to communicate through morse code. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier, your head getting harder to keep up. You gasp, groaning loudly as you lean over.
He’s bringing the cup of tea over to you quickly, sitting it on the table to hold your back. “Just breath, sweetheart.” He’s rubbing your back, crouching beside you. “You’re alright.”
You start to sob, head between your knees as you fight to be sick. You hiccup, shoulders shaking with your cries. You reach to grip his arm. “My stomach hurts so bad.”
It wasn’t rare for you to throw up when you got worked up. He quickly brought the kitchen trashcan over to you, sitting it in front of you so you could have it at the ready.
“Keep breathing.” He instructs you, bringing the tea over to you. “Here, try and drink some of this.” He wasn’t ever sure if the tea helped, but it made him feel useful when you got to feeling poorly.
When your tea is gone, after practically gulping down the hot liquid, he’s rubbing your shaking shoulders, trying to get the knots out of muscles. He switches on the tv to gilligans island, the episode where the professor is trying to make a phone out of a coconut and a banana peel.
You keep crying through half of the episode, coiling over here and there. When you did, he rubbed the back of your neck and kissed your shoulder, telling you to breath and that you were going to get through it.
When you’re three episodes in, your tears have stopped and you’re left with nothing but embarrassment and humiliation, your face beat red as you begin to mutter an apology. “I’m sorry.” Your voice is shaky and hoarse. He’s sitting beside you now, his arm tossed around your shoulders.
“Don’t be.” He smiles, tapping your nose. “Just doing my job.”
“Your job?” You sniffle.
“Takin’ care of my best girl.” He kissed you, a quick peck on the lips as he leans over and turns off the living room light, snuggling back into the couch and pulling you into his chest.
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