Make It Fun, Don't Trust Anyone- Erik Lehnsherr X Reader
Make It Fun, Don't Trust Anyone- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader
“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he visibly failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.” His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?”
A/N: Hello! If anyone sees this, I hope you enjoy! If not, this is entirely self sufficing and I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. Just to note, sorry if the scenes taken from the movie seem a little..rushed? If there's one thing I do not enjoy it's working out how to incorporate existing scenes into canon compliant fanfiction. The struggle.
Word Count: 6,692 / Read it on AO3!
If you'd like to see more from me about Erik- please feel free to send in any requests! :)
The Cuban sunlight had acted as the perfect antithesis to your situation; the gaping hole that had formed and taken a residual spot within your ribcage as you knelt beside Charles, screaming and crying at the lack of feeling in his legs.
But your eyes had not been upon him.
You had stared up at Erik, stomach collapsing at his stoic gaze; only remnants of his grief were prevalent to yourself, the person that had known him most in the world. That wretched helmet had sat upon his head, his eyes empty with the melancholy of his own steadfast determination.
“Join me.” He had whispered, his lower lip trembling as his eyes finally landed upon you; the first time since you had boarded the plane to Cuba. He had reached out then, his palm splayed towards you; hope swimming in his eyes as he beckoned you forward.
You had simply shaken your head, lips tight and breaths heaving as you held his gaze. You watched as his heart broke, as his eyes glistened and bloodied hands trembled. You watched as he nodded and as he turned away from you. Turned away from the love that you had shared, choosing his own foolish endeavours of revenge over you. Allowing grief to swallow you, you had ducked your head; unable to watch as he walked away, unable to face Charles, writhing in the pain of your lovers’ actions.
That had been it- you had returned to the school. Welcoming and accepting prospective students; working as an administrator and overseeing the school’s board. It had been good, amazing- supplying a necessary distraction to the heartbreak you had endured and a chance to improve your powers, learn from the experiences of others. There, in your reluctant state of happiness, you had met Adam.
Adam, the school’s mutant psychology teacher; specialising in mind-based and largely telekinetic powers. Your curiosity regarding Erik’s powers had led you to him, sitting beside his desk; asking question after question. Questions soon turned into conversations and you soon found yourself being courted. All the traditional romances that had never crossed your mind when with Erik had become your reality; constant flowers, gifts, candle-lit dinners as your heels caressed his leg beneath the table.
Your family had loved him, adored him. They had never met Erik, for obvious reasons, and whilst they were more supportive of your mutant gene than the average family; they had hoped that you would still be able to live the average life. Meaning, that you would acquire the average husband. Your family had practically demanded that you married him despite only being a year into the relationship, the pointed remarks about you being ‘unwedded at such an age’ a constant force at each gathering.
So, you had. You had adorned the white dress, the large diamond ring, and Charles had granted his blessings by allowing you to host the wedding on the school’s grounds. Everyone and anyone that could have possibly been there had been in attendance, a day simply to forget about the wrongdoings of the past, the present and the future.
On paper, everything was perfect.
“Do you ever think about him?” Charles had asked, the night before your wedding, the two of you nursing a glass of scotch each within his office.
You had exhaled through your nose, a lodge forming at the base of your throat, “No.” Despite the pronunciation of such a small, singular word; your voice had croaked, your chest trembling pathetically.
Charles had simply nodded, his eyes flickering; his powers catching your obvious lie. “He’s in prison now, you know?”
You nodded, humming affirmatively, your gut twisting at the reminder.
“Are you sure you want to go through with tomorrow?”
“I do.” You smirked, a failed attempt at humour as Charles had only looked back at you with sympathy, “I can’t sit here and say that Erik is never on my mind but… this is for the best.”
Charles had only nodded, his face twisting as hair fell before his eyes, “He will never bother us again, I will make sure of that.”
Whilst you had thanked him, smile wide and eyes crinkling as you both raised a glass; you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach had swooped in disappointment. The way your chest had heaved with unbridled pain, simply at the thought of never seeing Erik again. You would wrestle with it for the years to come- the guilt of constantly thinking of another man as you lay beside your husband.
Your love with Erik had, to simply put it, been enigmatic; fuelled by passion- both by the mission at hand and the way you felt for each other. There had been awful, screaming fights on the worst days and entangled limbs with scratches lining his spine on the best. You had loved him with every ounce of your being, cared for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t there. Whilst you had endured the worst pains of your life with him, you had also been at your happiest.
It had been toxic, ferocious, you had never known what would come next.
You missed it every day.
You passed the feeling off as pure delusion, your mutant gene playing cruel tricks on your mind as the years passed; as you grew bored. Bored of the same mundane life every day, bored of the simple forehead kisses, bored of that house. You and Adam remained within the dark confines of the manor instead of finding a place of your own following the fallout of the war in Vietnam; acting as support for Charles, who had steadfastly begun to dwindle in both his morality and his health. You had used this as an excuse every time Adam had attempted to introduce the necessary conversation of moving on, settling down. Children. You had deflected his attempts every time, claiming that you needed to be there for Charles, that you weren’t ready, that it wasn’t the right time.
You knew for a fact that the reality lay within your inability to let Erik go, your inability to potentially miss the opportunity to catch a taste of his mere presence again. As the breadth of time since he left and the distance with Adam widened, you thought of Erik more and more. His serrating blue eyes and wicked charm haunted every moment, both awake and unconscious. You yearned for him, worried for him, hated him. You hated him for giving you up so easily, your lack of support in that specific moment signifying the end of everything, defining the status of the rest of your life. Sometimes, during the darkest of nights, the ones where you felt so alone, the nights where the wind howled and the trees drew vines and branches upon the walls- you imagined what it would have been like to join him, to have clasped his hand against yours and allowed him to lead you into the darkness.
Secretly, you knew that following Magneto would have led to your early demise, sometimes you pondered on whether that could have been a better end to your time together than your reality.
But then, as Spring turned into Summer; as the grounds of the manour flourished in their unkempt state and the sun cast illuminations through the large windows- Logan arrived at your doorstep. A mission from the future, unbelievable if not for the pure conviction in his eyes. Unbelievable if not for the grief that haunted his strong features.
You had been completely unprepared when Logan had stood from the chair you had offered him, yourself having been perched on the edge of Charles’ crumpled couch; your legs crossed and hands clasped with worry as he had detailed the horrors he had experienced, the horrors that he was there to prevent. He had paced the length of the table, surveying each resident of the room; you hadn’t missed the way his eyes had flickered between you and Adam; his forehead scrunching before his brows raised in amusement.
“Ah…he warned me about this.” He grinned, flicking a finger between the two of you and scratching at the base of his head. “Kinda weird to see actually.”
“Sorry?” You smiled politely, head swarmed with confusion, you looked over at Adam only to see he bore a similar expression, “He?”
“We need to find Magneto,” Logan spoke determinedly, his gaze fierce, his voice taking a tone of finality. He was serious, conviction overtaking the air as the gravity of the situation dawned upon each resident.
You knew that he was right.
In that moment, you had been able to do nothing but stand and promptly leave the room; abandon the sound of Charles’ manic laughter that followed Logan’s words, Hank’s doubt that tended to suffocate a room. But most notably, you were abandoning your so-called husband’s silence.
Somehow, you found yourself curled beneath your bed covers, arms crossed over your knees like a small child; your form shrunken in your fear and heartbreak and doubt, tremors racking your shoulders. As you attempted to steady your breathing, a knock sounded at your bedroom door. Expecting it to be Adam, you promptly rose from your position; scrubbing furiously at your swollen eyelids.
But to your shock, Logan entered the room.
“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” He held his hands out placantingly, slowly approaching you as if you were a timid animal, “I know you don’t know me, but I know you, Y/N, very well and… I wanted to check you were okay.”
You nodded, crossing your arms and biting your lip as you mulled over the words he had spoken since his arrival, “It’s okay… I just- haven’t heard his name outside of my own head in a while.”
“Erik?”
You smiled, your heart blooming at his real name, the name you had known him by, “Yes… I’m assuming you know about us; I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve witnessed one of our messes for yourself,” He had smiled at that, his teeth glinting as he chuffed in amusement, though you could only stare at Logan, building the courage to ask what you desperately wanted to know, “When, you know, you were sent here… was Erik there?”
“Yes.” Logan nodded.
“Was I?”
Logan nodded once again, though opted to do so silently this time.
“What did he tell you about us?”
Logan laughed properly then, a smile finally breaking across his face, “He told me not to meddle, that your situation is especially… sensitive, at this point.” He scratched a hand across his chin, his expression filled with nothing but pure mirth as he spoke, “Which I can see, seeing as though he’s locked one hundred feet underground and you’re married.” He finished that with a pointed look at your ring finger.
You nodded, that you found yourself unable to match his amusement, unsure of exactly what it was he found funny, “I haven’t seen him in almost ten years.” You shrugged, “When I try to think about it, I don’t even know what he looks like anymore.”
“But you still think about him?”
You sighed, lowering your gaze to pick at the loose threads upon your old bed sheets; you had always been reluctant to get rid of them, the memories that they held with Erik remained too precious. Slowly and timidly, you spoke, “Every day.”
Logan could only nod, an exhale sounding from his nose, “Well, if I can trust anything from my time knowing you; it’s your ability to give that man hell.”
So, the following day; with an overly-energised, overly-excited teenage mutant in tow; Hank, Charles, and Logan had embarked en route for the Pentagon.
“Stay safe.” Adam had spoken as he leaned against the entrance to the house, having opted to stay behind; claiming that the house needed to be watched despite Logan being the first visitor in years. You had simply smiled at him, waving goodbye before turning towards the car; you didn’t miss the way the door had immediately slammed, Adam having chosen to waste no time in ensuring your safe departure. He had been quiet since Logan’s arrival, especially since the mention of Erik’s name and your obvious upset in response.
You feared that despite his promise to protect the house, he would not be there upon your return.
“I can’t believe you even married that guy.” Logan had mumbled, chuckling to himself and shaking his head as he slid into the car’s driver's seat; you could only manage a meager glare- your doubt regarding Adam had been clear even to yourself.
Whilst the others performed the monumental task of attempting to free Erik; you had been tasked with organising the transport from the Pentagon and away, far away. You knew that Charles had orchestrated this purposefully, giving you the chance to see Erik as little as possible if necessary. You had accepted without a fight, you feared that if faced with Erik in a dire situation; you would act impulsively, irrationally. You feared that if faced with Erik, you would be able to do nothing but throw yourself into his arms.
“Not appropriate.” You had mumbled to yourself at the thought, tapping a hand against the car’s wheel; dark aviators high upon your nose as you awaited. Your other hand hung from the drivers-side window, a dwindling cigarette balancing lazily between your fingers; it had been a nasty habit you had picked up in your adulthood, largely to Adam’s chagrin who had banned you from doing so indoors. You began to recognise that the stress of marriage had aged you significantly; the existence of service had overtaken your life in a way you hadn’t predicted.
Just as you had begun to dwell upon your own disappointing life decisions; a loud bustle of noise exploded from the doors exiting the building’s kitchen; you only had a second to rescue your cigarette and balance it between your teeth before the group rushed to the car. Peter immediately sped ahead and claimed the passenger seat, grinning at you cheekily as he slid beside you; though this was quickly diminished when Logan slammed the car door back open, promptly gathering the teenager by the lapels of his jacket and ejecting him from the seat. You could only guffaw as he promptly plucked the cigarette from between your teeth, taking a hasty drag as the rest of the group piled into the back.
You refused to glance at the rear mirror.
“Seriously Y/N?” Charles huffed exasperatedly from what you could assume was the seat directly behind you, the rustling of his jacket prevalent as he attempted to get comfortable in the tight squeeze of seats, “This may be a getaway car but it doesn’t mean you can abuse it to your will with your smoking.”
You gritted your teeth, slamming your foot upon the pedal and pulling out onto the road; en route to the airport. Erik’s presence behind you plagued your mind, causing your fingers to tighten upon the wheel and your toes to curl within your shoes, every hair upon your neck stood ramrock straight as you waited, yearning for him to acknowledge you.
This was what you had dreamed of, every night for years, and now you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him.
A gleam caught your eyes as you drove, suddenly all too aware of your left hand rested on the steering wheel. Your wedding ring still adorned upon your finger, glistening obnoxiously in the afternoon sun. Risking a glance, you rose your eyes to the rearview mirror- only to immediately flick your eyes back to the road before you.
There, in the middle seat, sat Erik- his cheeks sunken, hollow; the effects of years in confinement were prevalent in his every feature. His skin was pale, almost ghastly; his haircut was shaggy, uncaring. But what shocked you the most, what made you pull your eyes away from the man you loved so suddenly- was the way his eyes, those hauntingly blue eyes, stared straight at you, straight at the ring upon your finger. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from squeaking in response, the taste of blood plaguing your mouth as you willed yourself to focus on the road, focus on the mission at hand.
You knew that Logan had witnessed every moment of that encounter, his dark eyes sunk into the side of your face as you determinedly stared forward, refusing to acknowledge any of the people around you. Alongside the stench of smoke, the air in the car was thick with tension- the aura of unspoken words choking every passenger. Even Peter, the usual chatterbox and the one who had spoken your ears off the entire way to the Pentagon had opted to stay silent; instead staring out of the window, his lips twisted in his own display of tension.
As you drove in silence, you became all too aware of Erik’s presence; you found yourself pinpointing his specific breaths, the crinkle of his prisoner-assigned uniform, the shuffle of his legs against the side of your seat, the nervous tap of his finger against his knuckles.
It was a miracle you managed to reach the airport.
Upon saying goodbye to Peter, you determinedly pushed past the front-row seats of the private jet, opting to sit at the very rear of the plane alongside Logan, of which had simply raised an eyebrow and sighed as you lowered yourself before him, “You two are more pathetic than I expected.” He exhibited an air of nonchalance as he lit his cigar, despite the plane now very much being in the sky, and propped open a newspaper upon his lap- though it was prevalent that he found delight in watching the entire situation unfold.
You raised your eyebrows, shrugging your shoulders stubbornly and sliding back against the base of the chair, “There’s no ‘us two’,” To which you complimented with the use of air quotes, “I am married, Logan.”
Logan could only laugh at that, shaking his head, a habit he seemed to have picked up in his exasperation at what was unfolding before him, “You do realise I’m from the future right?”
Scowling, you crossed your arms and opted to sulk at the back of the plane; still determinedly refusing to look Erik’s way- who was now engaging in a heated argument with Charles.
“Do I at least age well?”
“Of course,” Logan smirked, holding his cigar up in a toast; though he was quickly interrupted by the creaking of metal as the foundations of the plane shook; Erik. Logan jumped forward and immediately threw the two of you to the ground- acting as a human shield as the plane began to tip sideways; Erik’s passion overtaking all rational thought as plates and glassware shattered beside you.
“You abandoned us all.” He spoke with finality, Charles lay splayed across multiple seats, his hair a tangled mess as he gaped at Erik. You could only pull yourself back into your seat as Charles left for the cockpit, both you and Logan gasping at each other as you attempted to regain your stolen breath.
“So,” Logan grunted, fetching a new cigar and lighting it, “You were always an asshole then.”
You could only scoff as Erik turned, facing you for the first time since boarding the plane; you noted the way his eyes landed upon anything, anywhere but you.
“I bet we’re best buds in the future,” Erik smirked sardonically, his voice rough with the sudden severity of his outburst.
Logan hummed, puffing on his cigar before offering you a puff, to which you politely declined, “Not like me and your old friend Y/N here are.”
At the mention of your name, his hands spasmed at his sides; his fingers convulsing in a bodily reaction at the mere recognition of your existence. You would have felt excitement, love; if it weren’t for the way his eyes told a different story- cold and piercing as they landed upon you, his cheekbones twitching as he allowed himself a second of eye contact before he abruptly turned, returning to his seat across the plane.
“Jesus,” Logan mumbled to himself, reclining in his seat and widening his eyes at you; you could only nod. Jesus.
With Erik and Charles opting to keep to themselves, the rest of the journey went swimmingly- immediately upon landing you wasted no time in departing from the suffocating air of the cabin; luxuriating in the deep breaths of fresh, evening air that greeted you.
“We need to find somewhere to rest.” Charles spoke from behind you, “The drive to the next spot is too long and we’re all exhausted.” He glared pointedly at Erik then, who simply sighed; as you allowed yourself a glance at him, it was prevalent that he too was plagued by fatigue. His cheeks were more sunken than before, his eyes drooping as he visibly struggled to hold himself up. You yearned to reach out, place a hand on his spine and simply hold him, aid him as he wrestled with the weight of the world upon his back. But then, as his eyes turned towards yours, the weight of the wedding ring upon your finger prevailed once again; you could only turn away.
Hank managed to find a group of last minute rooms at a nearby motel, though as he returned to the reception's waiting area, keys in hand, his nerves were ever-prevalent. “I only managed to get three rooms; two have two beds and another has one, I was thinking-”
“I’m taking the solo room,” Logan ordered, snatching the key from Hank’s hand and sauntering down the hallway, though not without sending a wink over his shoulder at you. Bastard.
“Oh-” Hank froze, the other keys dangling from his fingers- you could only watch as he winced, practically praying for you to forgive him with his eyes, “Charles, I doubt it would be safe for you to be with Erik, so I guess…”
You could only sigh, electing every ounce of confidence you could embody before standing, cutting Hank off once again before retrieving a key from his hand, without turning you spoke, “Well, come on then, Erik.”
You felt his presence behind you, each of you electing to say nothing as you unlocked the haggard wooden door; its hinges creaking as you pushed open the door. Before you stood two double beds, an only-just-comfortable distance between the two. Nodding to yourself, you entered the room, your fingers twirling the keys nervously as you surveyed the room; you felt the air thicken as the door slammed behind you- you felt like prey finally being cornered by the predator.
Erik cleared his throat behind you, the sound thick and grating, “I’ll take the bed beside the door; would you like to use the bathroom first?”
You turned towards him, shocked by his kindness; he could only stare back at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and exhaustion tinting his features. “I- Sure.” You could only croak, opting to briskly enter the bathroom; afraid of irrationality taking over your lovesick mind. Reaching behind the shower’s curtain, you turned on the water before stripping off your clothes, the sound of your ring clattering against the sink as you placed it down caused you to flinch, knowing that Erik would be all too aware of your every move from the other side of the door.
You took your time in the shower, breathing in the warm steam and collecting yourself after the events of the day, collecting yourself in preparation for the events of the night that was to come. You could do this, even if it meant a sleepless night whilst Erik lay only feet away; whilst the object of all of your nightmares lay only feet away. It reminded you of a night, a night a long time ago; in a motel room just like the one you were in, his skin against yours; his breath hot against the base of your throat as he had slowly stripped you of your clothes, as he had kissed every inch of you. It reminded you of his pants as he pushed into you, his groans as he buried his sweat-coated forehead into the skin of your shoulder, biting and licking and sucking there as you became one. The way that he had moaned his love for you into the skin there, your responsive moans loud and uncaring as you had clawed at the skin of his back, gripped at the hair upon the base of his head-
Stop; you shut off the hot water, stumbling from the shower as you panted, your cheeks and chest red with warmth as you desperately attempted to remove the memory from your mind. Gripping the porcelain of the sink, you eyed your pathetic reflection; willing, begging, yourself to let this go, let your silly daydreams go. This was reality, your reality. Getting through the night was the only necessity you needed to accomplish, then you could avoid Erik and promptly never see him again.
You could go back to your husband, back to your life.
Undeniably however, you couldn’t ignore the way Erik made you feel, the way his mere presence made you feel. Adam’s influence upon you paled entirely in comparison, your obligation to return to him simply one of duty, one to appease your family, one to live the ‘perfect’ life- be the perfect wife. But you craved more, you craved better; for years you had chased and yearned for the way Erik’s slightest touch had made you feel- the way that his love encompassed every molecule of your being; the way that he had branded you for life, rendered unable to ever feel the way you had felt with him again. Your thoughts of Erik made you all too aware of how long you had spent in the bathroom.
How long you had spent, very obviously, avoiding him.
You emerged from the bathroom in nothing but the oversized shirt you had packed hastily to sleep in; swiping it from the bed due to the short notice you had received in regards to this trip. You felt bare, naked suddenly as you left the bathroom to Erik’s piercing gaze. He sat, fully clothed, lounging against the headrest; allowing a pen to swirl around his fingers, dancing from pointer to thumb as his wrist spun. Entrapped, you could only stand there and stare; stare at the beauty of his powers, at the beauty of him.
“It feels good,” He spoke slowly, carefully, allowing the pen to drop onto the sheets beside him, “To use my powers again; to feel metal.”
You nodded, smiling politely, unsure of exactly what to say in response. You opted to stay silent, allowing yourself to walk past him and into your own bed, the crinkle of the duvet loud in the silent room, loud within the silence that was swelling between you.
“You aren’t wearing it,” Erik spoke suddenly, his voice slicing through the silence; to your shock. Once you recovered, you simply crooked an eyebrow at him, to which he spoke; swallowing his words audibly, “Your ring.”
“Oh,” You shook your head, staring down at your empty finger, remembering that you had placed it on the sink, “I usually-”
“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.”
His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?”
Slowly, at the pit of his lungs, he formed a laugh; his head shaking as his fingers trembled once again, “You think so lowly of me, Darling.”
“You left me!” You were yelling now, rising from the tangled bed sheets as your chest heaved with anger, heaved with the heartbreak and sadness that had plagued you for the consequent years following his departure, “You left me.”
“I gave you a choice, Y/N. You chose Charles, you were more than welcome to come with me.”
You shook your head, scoffing, “Well… if I had gone with you; I would be dead by now.” Your tone held a sense of finality, as supported by your return to the bed as you promptly turned your back to him, curling up under the duvet and refusing to face his reaction to your words. His response followed in the slam of the bathroom door as he promptly left the room; leaving behind the stale air of your own regret.
It felt like hours as you waited, wondered; hoped for him to come back. Hoped for the two of you to forget the words that had been said, to sleep comfortably in your separate beds and complete this mission as peacefully as possible; to go your separate ways and live your separate lives once again.
In the depths of these daunting thoughts, you fell asleep; the exhaustion of the day’s tensions taking hold as your eyes slipped closed. You woke, hours later, to the moon’s rays spanning throughout the room; a ghostly glow hanging in the air as you rubbed at your eyes, glancing to your side, Erik was fast asleep; his sharp edges and soft hair illuminated in the scant light- you allowed yourself a moment, just that moment, to take him in. Drink in the features you hadn’t faced in almost a decade, the features you longed to reach out towards; to trail a finger down his jaw or scratch a nail upon his hair. His hair was wavy, a slightly damp smell filtered throughout the room told you that he too had taken the opportunity to shower.
The thought of his broad shoulders and lean back illuminated by the spray of hot water did nothing to help the swarm of doubt swirling within your gut. Shaking your head, you reached into the bag beside your bed; fetching the box of cigarettes stashed within one of the inner pockets.
Then, barefoot and in just a shirt, you shouldered open the room’s door, balancing a cigarette upon your lip as you did so before promptly lighting it, traversing the motel’s corridors silently before reaching the fire escape. Hoisting yourself upwards, you climbed up the ladders before finally reaching the building’s roof. The night was clear, quiet; the only sounds emerging from the distant highway and subsequent traffic- you listened out for any signs of disruption as you lowered yourself to the roof, allowing your legs to dangle from the side of the building.
The silence of the night and the goosebumps prickling at your bare arms allowed the tears to emerge; it allowed them to pour down your cheeks, for snot to bubble at your nose and for your lips to tremble with unkempt sobs. You allowed for your hurt to take hold, for your hurt at Erik’s words and actions and simple presence to take hold. But then you allowed your hurt towards yourself to unfold; for allowing yourself to end up here, in this situation- living this life that you had manufactured for yourself.
You couldn’t go back to that motel room, but most notably you couldn’t go back home. You couldn’t bear it anymore; the stresses of being within that barron manor were becoming too much to bear. If you couldn’t be with Erik, then you would rather be alone; somewhere far away, far away from here. You stewed upon this thought for a long time, as you lit your second, third and fourth cigarettes; it prevailed.
Just as your fourth cigarette began to dwindle, the slam of a door sounded below you before hasty, alert footsteps lined the hallway. You rose, walking back towards the highest entrance of the fire exit before looking down; listening as the hurried steps continued, haggard breaths accompanying it. Opting to investigate, you lowered yourself onto the platform below before descending the stairs; entering the residential hallway of the hotel. There, at the end of the corridor stood Erik, the obvious source of the worried footsteps as his chest heaved; he was turning in place, visibly searching for something as he rushed down the hallway.
“What-” You mumbled, slowly walking towards him as he had not yet spotted you. Finally, you decided to catch his attention; concerned as to whether there was some form of danger, “Erik?” You called, a hand shielding your eyes as you peered down the dark hallway. You watched as he froze at the sound of your words, his head snapping towards you as he drank in your presence, your appearance.
“What the fuck-” He breathed, immediately shaking off his shock and advancing towards you, practically running as he reached you. Entirely unannounced, he swept you up into his arms; shaking as he lowered his head to your shoulder, practically breathing you in as he tightened his hold by the second.
“Erik, what-”
“What is your problem?” He pulled back almost as soon as it had begun, his breathing staggered as a blush covered his cheeks; he wore only the black tank top and sweatpants he had been asleep in, his hair a mess upon his head; as if he had just jumped from his bed, “I woke up and- and you were gone, your bed sheets were practically stale with how long you’ve been gone I-”
“I’m fine.” You assured, catching his hands between your own as an attempt to calm him down; the worry he had been feeling now prevalent within the staggering of his chest and the blush at his cheeks, “I just went to have a smoke I- let’s get you back to the room.”
He nodded, his glassy eyes immediately beginning to droop as he allowed you to use your grasp on his hand to pull him down the hallway. Upon depositing him into his own bed, as you left to enter your own, a tight grip latched upon your wrist; you turned, only to be met with those blue eyes swarming with desperation, “Stay?”
You sighed, nodding reluctantly before crawling in beside him; allowing him to drape an arm over your waist, allowing him to rest his head upon yours. Before your departure, before the decision would be set; you could allow yourself this one thing, this one night of unplagued sleep as his comfort would ward away the nightmares that tended to tinge your nights.
But, before you could fall asleep; Erik’s voice rumbled above you, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You could only shrug, pressing your nose to his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, “Me too, Erik.”
He moved backwards then, settling so that his face lay directly before yours; the tip of his nose rubbing against yours with each second breath. It seemed that he could only muster a whisper as he continued to speak, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His eyes grew wet as he spoke, his head shaking slightly as he smiled sadly.
“Erik.” You whispered, your voice soft with contempt as you raised a hand to his cheek; brushing away the tears that had begun to fall there. Feeling him swallow against your wrist, you could only watch as his eyes flickered downwards, just as your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. Before you could register, he had moved; his lips pressed to yours as your cheeks grew wet with his steadily falling tears. Your mind allowed nothing else but to kiss back, to shift your leg upwards and to caress his cheek with your thumb. He kissed you earnestly, slowly; as if approaching a terrified fawn, testing the waters as to what you would allow him. You could practically taste the desperation perspiring his tongue, as you assumed he could yours. You would take anything, trade any parts of your wretched souls if it meant that you could feel this forever; feel the warmth of his tongue sliding against yours for every waking moment that remained.
Erik pulled back then, only to lower himself; his mouth hot and needy against your throat, his hands trailing patterns against the skin of your stomach; becoming exposed as your shirt had rode upwards. His ministrations rendered you only able to lay there and pant; to bask in the feeling of being needed, wanted. Truly, ferociously.
As he began to paint a trail of kisses down your stomach, something changed; something shifted in his demeanour. His hands, beginning to pull your thighs upward, were shaking and whilst his lips were forming kisses, they were forming words too. As you raised yourself to rest against your elbows, you finally heard the words forming within his mouth, “Please don’t go back to him.” He was whispering, pairing the almost unspoken words with a gentle kiss to the nearest area of skin; he was crying again, his eyes glistening with fresh, unshed tears as he burrowed his face into your skin. It seemed as if he was afraid to let you go, practically burrowing himself into your being, with the hopes that you would stay.
“Erik, Erik wait-” You spoke urgently, lowering your hand to his chin before pushing him away; he stared up at you through his glassy eyes; his hair ruffled and cheeks rosy. Confusion graced his features at first, though he soon registered the concern in your eyes and realisation visibly dawned upon him.
He removed himself from you then, moving to sit at the end of the bed; the duvet splayed around his waist as he sat with his legs crossed. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, wiping at his mouth and running a finger over his teary eyes, “I’m sorry Y/N, I- it’s not my place to tell you what to do.”
Instantly, you crawled towards him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and settling yourself into the space between his legs; you felt his cheeks crinkle as you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, but you could still sense his confusion, his doubt. “I knew I would be leaving him the moment Logan mentioned your name, whether you were coming with me or not.” You stroked his hair as you spoke, caressing your fingers through the thin tendrils of oaky brown hair that adorned your lover's head. Erik grinned then; his teeth shining as he practically mooned up at you, he kissed you again then; pulling you in and deeper into his lap.
Before you could push him onto his back, before you could lower yourself upon him and mobilise the groans that would fall from his mouth; he abruptly straightened up, untwining his hand from beneath your shirt and raising it in the air- your wedding ring flew towards the two of you, hanging in the air before Erik made a flicking motion with his fingers; you could only gape as the ring flew through the open window and into the darkness of the night.
“Erik!” You squealed, hitting at his chest as he laughed loudly, unabashedly. Despite being secretly pleased, you couldn’t allow him to know that. “That was expensive!”
“I can find you better,” Erik grumbled against your chest, burrowing his head into your shirt and inhaling unashamedly, “That one wasn’t you anyway, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that ghastly thing on your finger.”
The only response you could have mustered in that moment was to shove him back against the bed; silencing him with the warmth of your own mouth.
More Posts from Slapmewithacroc and Others
DadBstf!seb just teaching you how to fuck after your dad asked him to stay at the house with you whilst he’s away
this fucks. so much. you get it. you get me.
Just as you arrived home for summer break, your parents were leaving for the 25th wedding anniversary trip. Although you were 20 and had stayed home alone a million times over, your parents, well your dad, still didn't trust you to stay at home alone.
As an extra precaution, he asked his best friend, Sebastian, to stay with you for the few days they'd be gone.
You and Sebastian always co-existed, you got along just fine and there was no bad blood but it's not like you spent a lot of time having conversations with him. Truthfully, for most of your life, Sebastian popped in for a weekend here and there or your parents took a trip to see him race. Even when you did watch the races, he wasn't really there - he was mostly focussed on his race.
But now it was just the two of you, in the house for the next six days.
Sebastian have left earlier that day, knocking on your door and telling you that he's got some errands to run and he would be back later that afternoon. You shouted okay and rolled over and went back to sleep.
It was nearly 6, when you heard the front door unlocked. Sebastian coming in with a few bags before returning to the living room to check on you.
“What’re you watching?” He asked, walking around to sit next to you on the couch. “Oh uh, fifty shades.” You shrugged, “they finally put the second part on and I fell asleep in the theatre when we went to go see it.”
“Are you old enough to be watching this?” Seb looked over at you, deadpan but you laughed. “Very funny,” you reached for the remote, “I can change it, we can watch something else.”
“No no,” Seb shook his head, settling in on the couch. “Don’t change it on account of me, watch your movie.”
The two of you sit in silence for a bit, focussed on the movie, playing on screen. And, of course, as expected, a sex scene on. You hear Sebastian snicker and you look over at him, confused.
“What?” You asked, “you’re not that childish, are you?” You joked and he shook his head.
“It looks so.. forced. I know it’s not real but they didn’t even try to make it seem real.”
“I wouldn’t know the difference,” you shrugged, turning your attention back to the scene. Sebastian was curious, everyone knew that but they also knew curiosity was what killed the cat.
He shifts to face you, “what does that mean?”
“I had sex once at this party but I was drunk and from what I can remember, it wasn’t that great.”
“Well that’s no good,” he says and you shrug once again, “that’s life.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.” He looks at you and you look back to him, brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”
Sebastian scoots a little closer. “I can show you.. if you’d like.”
“We shouldn't,” you turn to face him.
He shrugs, “what’s the harm?” He pulls your leg and now you're face to face with him. “You need a real man to show you how to fuck.” His hand comes up to rest on your cheek and you find yourself leaning into him. You close the gap, kissing the man.
It was heavy, heated. His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Seb’s hands on your ass when he kisses you.
Not a word is spoken between the two of you, what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over again. You were flat on your back, Seb settled between your legs.
“Are we-” you cut him off with a kiss. “Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “Seb please.”
He nods, there wasn't much else to say. Not that anything makes sense at the moment, it was all physical. His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.
Seb’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.
“All of this for me?” He asks, cocky as ever.
“God, just fuck me.” You mumble, not wanting to wait. You waited long enough.
Seb nods, barely pushing into you. Your hands grip on his biceps, his lips finding yours when he pushes in all the way, muffling the moans that left your lips.
He pulls one of your legs up to hitch on his hip. “Fuck,” you breath, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Seb’s hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips.
Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.
Seb leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you know those boys couldn't satisfy you the way I do.”
Sweet Dreams
Masterlist, AO3 Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader Word count: 3.9k
Summary: Castiel watches over you as you sleep, but when you seemingly have a nightmare, he reaches into your mind to comfort you. Only it wasn't a nightmare ;) Content: smut !! Making out, Masturbation, Grinding, Oral Sex (f and m receiving), Body Worship, Breast play, p in v sex, cowgirl, cas loses his virginity, language :)
You closed your laptop, letting out a sigh. Sam and Dean had left hours ago, following up on a lead in town, leaving you to research. Usually, this was Sam’s job, but with Castiel in the wind, Dean claimed someone needed to “stay at home base” in case he came back. It was a weak excuse, but after the last hunt, you couldn’t blame him. You let vampires get the jump on you one time, and suddenly you were incapable of working a case.
At least they got me my own room this time, you thought with a chuckle as you looked down at your attire. It was rare to get time alone nowadays, and when it did happen, you liked to take full advantage. The small silk nightgown hugged your frame nicely. No matter how many crappy motel rooms the boys took you to or how many cheap army surplus clothes they surrounded you with, you couldn’t help but love an expensive pair of pajamas. It was your own guilty pleasure.
Deciding you’d done enough research for the night, you stood up and walked to the bathroom. Leaning down, you splashed water on your face. Distracted, you missed the flutter of wings, and when you stood up straight, looking in the mirror, you nearly had a heart attack.
“Cas!” you gasped, placing a hand over your heart. Turning around, you were met with the angel, his crystal blue eyes locked on you. “You scared me!” you exclaimed, walking out of the bathroom.
“I apologize,” he said gruffly, following you into the cramped room. You sat on the bed, watching as he took a place in the corner, standing stiffly.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were busy in Heaven,” you asked, crossing your legs. His eyes followed your movement, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks turned a shade pinker than usual.
“Cas?” you spoke again, watching as his eyes finally came back to your face. He cleared his throat.
“Right, my business in Heaven has concluded,” he paused, “I thought I would check in on you.”
“Check in on me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. He only nodded in response.
You stood up, walking over to him. “Is something wrong, Cas?” Concern filled your voice as you brought a hand up to his forehead. His eyes fluttered shut at your touch, ignoring your question.
Up close, you could see his pink cheeks, his uneven breath, and feel his clammy skin under your palm. If you hadn’t known better, you’d think he was sick. But Cas had told you a long time ago that angels didn’t get sick.
Removing your hand, you watched as his eyes opened slowly. His mouth opened and closed like he didn’t know what to say.
“Castiel?” You said his name softly.
“I think I need to speak with Dean,” he finally spoke, his voice quiet.
Your brows furrowed. “Is it something I can help with?”
He shook his head quickly, stepping away from you and pressing himself against the wall. You took a step back as well, deciding that if Cas wasn’t going to tell you, you wouldn’t pry.
You looked away and turned your attention to the TV, nibbling on your bottom lip. It was a bad habit you’d picked up over the years.
Feeling his eyes on you, you turned back to Cas. “Want to watch a movie?” you asked.
He nodded once, staying quiet. You turned off the lights and climbed into bed, getting cozy under the covers. Realizing he hadn’t moved, you patted the spot next to you, giving him a soft smile.
You grabbed the remote and began flicking through the channels. You heard his footsteps on the carpet as he approached the bed. You listened as he removed his trench coat and shoes, then expertly undid the top buttons of his collared shirt. You felt your cheeks heat up and quickly looked back at the TV.
Despite knowing he could never feel the same way, you couldn’t help the crush you harbored for the angel. It wasn’t your fault he was so beautiful, so sweet.
You felt the bed dip as he sat next to you, and you fought the urge to look at him. Finally, you landed on How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Rom-coms were a guilty pleasure for both you and Castiel, surprisingly.
“This is one of my favorites,” you said quietly. He hummed in response but said nothing.
You fell into a comfortable silence, watching the movie together. You felt his eyes on you occasionally but did nothing, keeping your own gaze fixed on the screen.
When you were sure he was distracted by the movie, you caved and looked at him. Your breath hitched. The light from the TV illuminated his face, making his skin seem to glow.
Your eyes wandered, taking in his casual appearance. The undone buttons of his shirt gave you a glimpse of his chest, revealing a build you hadn’t realized he had under all those layers. He looked ethereal. And he was in your motel bed.
You bit your bottom lip and looked away. Relax, you told yourself. This wasn’t the first man in your bed, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Letting out a deep sigh, you sank further into the pillow. You could feel yourself getting drowsy. You turned on your side to face Castiel.
“Cas?” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. “I’m going to sleep now.”
He turned to look at you. “Do you want me to go?” His voice sounded deeper than usual.
You thought for a moment. “No, you can stay if you want.”
He nodded once. “Sweet dreams,” he said quietly, turning his attention back to the TV.
You tried to stay awake, just to sneak glances at the angel lying next to you. But you were only so strong, and it wasn’t long before the world went dark.
Castiel watched as your eyes fluttered shut and your breathing evened out. He was surprised you had asked him to stay. From what little experience he had with humans, he found most were uncomfortable being watched in such a vulnerable state. Dean had strictly forbidden him from watching him and Sam sleep, calling him creepy on multiple occasions. Which was a shame, as Castiel rather liked watching over his friends. They were so much more peaceful while asleep.
His thoughts stuttered to a stop as you shifted closer to him in your sleep, most likely seeking warmth in your unconscious state. He felt his heart speed up like it had earlier. Letting his instincts guide him, he shifted, putting his arm above you on the pillow, giving you space to move. A few minutes later, you had maneuvered yourself onto his chest.
It felt wrong to be this close to you. As an angel of the Lord, he shouldn’t be as fond of you as he was. Castiel’s role was to be a guardian to human life—nothing more. But as you snuggled into his chest, those thoughts faded away. He wrapped an arm around you, feeling the soft silk of your nightgown.
In that moment, he knew you were perfect. There had never been, and there would never be, another human like you. Castiel had always admired you—your bravery, intelligence, wit, and all the other good human qualities. He had convinced himself that was why his chest constricted when you were near and why he could hardly think in your presence. But lately, it had gotten worse. Now, when he was around you, Castiel felt lost for words.
Nothing he could come up with felt good enough for your ears. He now understood why humans worshipped false idols. As disturbing as it had been at first, you had become his. And he found himself not caring anymore. It felt right—in a way nothing ever had before. It was what he had wanted to ask Dean about earlier. If it was normal to feel this way.
Soft noises from you pulled him from his thoughts. He felt your heart quicken, your skin growing warmer. You let out a particularly loud groan, and your brows furrowed in a way they only did when you were upset. Worried you were having a nightmare, Castiel reached a hand to your temple and entered your mind, ready to ease your discomfort.
As he entered and moved around in your mind, he found himself back in the motel room, replaying the conversation you two had had earlier. Confused, Castiel continued to watch.
When you put a hand on his forehead, he watched as the dream version of him whimpered, pressing his face into your hand. Castiel felt his cheeks redden. He watched as you moved your palm to the side of dream Castiel’s face, leaning in gently, pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. Your hand slipped downward, taking his growing bulge in your hand and massaging it.
The dream shifted suddenly, becoming blurry. When it finally cleared, Castiel saw the two of you in bed together. You were sitting in his lap, and he watched as his hands went up your nightgown, resting on your ass. Your hands were in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as you kissed him roughly.
Castiel couldn’t help but move closer to the scene. He watched as dream him ripped off your nightgown, revealing all of you. Castiel’s jaw went slack, and his pants grew increasingly uncomfortable. Your back arched as dream Castiel took your nipple in his mouth and sucked. Dark bruises began to appear as he mouthed over your breasts.
In the back of his mind, he knew this was an invasion of your privacy—that you wouldn’t want him in your mind. But when the dream shifted again, showing you pulled to the edge of the bed with dream Castiel on his knees between your legs, he knew he wasn’t strong enough to leave. He didn’t know much about human intercourse, but this was heavenly.
As Castiel continued to watch, a tightness built in his lower stomach. The feeling in his groin was long past painful, and he groaned. Reaching a hand down, he palmed himself as he had seen you do earlier.
Dream Castiel slid his fingers inside you, and the noise you made had Castiel’s knees buckling, forcing him to sit down on a nearby chair. He watched as you reached down, pressing his head further between your legs, hearing his own muffled whimpers at your actions.
Now moaning himself, he continued rubbing, the tightness building. He didn’t fully understand what he was doing, but God, it felt good. When your back lifted off the bed and you screamed his name, Castiel felt the coil snap. His vision went white as he was pulled out of your mind.
When his eyes opened, he found yours looking back at him. The real you staring up at him. His chest was still heaving, and he could feel the warmth in his pants. Looking down at you, he saw confusion in your eyes, but you weren’t faring much better. Your pupils were blown, and he could feel your heart racing.
Your head ached as you fought to regain consciousness. It was so warm, you thought idly, snuggling into the heat source. Breathing in, your senses filled with the scent of pine, clean laundry, and something undeniably masculine. A distant alarm sounded in the back of your mind, but you were too content to care. As your awareness sharpened, soft groans reached your ears. One particularly loud one had your eyes snapping open.
You looked up and met none other than Castiel’s gaze. Gasping, you scrambled off him, sitting up beside him. Letting your eyes trace over him, you realized he was in quite a state—flushed, breathing heavily, and staring at you in silence. A sharp pang in your head had you groaning as you brought your hands up to massage your temples, struggling to keep up with the moment.
"Cas," you breathed. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. Are you okay?"
He cringed and looked away, suddenly finding the wall much more interesting. Not this time, Castiel. A wave of confidence surged through you as you moved back toward him, swinging a leg over his torso and straddling him. That got his attention. His hands hovered over your hips, not quite touching you.
"What happened, Castiel?" you asked seriously.
He hesitated for a moment, and for the first time, you could have sworn he looked... nervous. "You fell asleep," he finally admitted, his voice quiet as he continued to look past you. "You moved closer to me. You looked—" he paused, "peaceful."
You hummed in response, encouraging him to continue.
"Then you started having a nightmare. I knew I could fix it, so I entered your mind."
You bit your tongue, uneasy at the thought of someone—even Castiel—being inside your head. "Only—" he chose that moment to meet your eyes—"I don’t think it was a nightmare."
Your brows furrowed as you struggled to remember your dream. You had been in the motel room, talking to Cas, and—oh. Your face heated as the pieces fell into place.
Only, Cas wasn’t done talking. "I am still not familiar with human sexual behaviors, but watching your dream, something happened." He hesitated again. "Something in my groin."
Your eyes widened, and you instinctively glanced down—only now noticing the obvious wet spot on his slacks.
"I felt a similar sensation when I first arrived here," he continued, brows furrowed. "It seems I’ve lost control of my vessel."
You clenched your thighs together, struggling to maintain composure. "I see," you murmured. Silently hoping you were reading the situation correctly, you asked, "What do you want to do about it?"
He licked his lips, blue eyes darkening. "I would very much like to continue your dream—if you will have me."
A slow smile spread across your face as you leaned down, savoring the moment. You brought a hand up to cradle his cheek, the other resting on his chest. "Can I kiss you, Castiel?" you whispered, your lips ghosting over his.
"Please," he whimpered, the desperate need in his voice sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.
You pressed your lips to his softly, giving him a teasing peck. As you started to pull away—thinking he might want to take things slow—Castiel made it clear he had other plans. In a flash, he wrapped his arms around you, flipped you over, and captured your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless. You moaned into his mouth, matching his enthusiasm as he devoured you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
When you finally pulled away for air, you gasped, "Cas, where did you learn that?"
His expression was completely serious as he responded, "The pizza man."
A startled giggle escaped you. Before he could kiss you again, you pressed a hand against his chest, stopping him. He looked at you worriedly.
"As much as I want to continue this," you purred, "you are wearing far too many clothes."
Without hesitation, Cas nodded and snapped his fingers. His slacks and dress shirt vanished, leaving him in only his boxers. Your breath hitched. His body was even more perfect than you had imagined—marble-like skin, taut muscles, and a strong, broad chest.
You reached out, letting your hands wander over his skin, and he shuddered beneath your touch. His responsiveness had you dripping with anticipation. You could feel his arousal pressing into your thigh, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick with longing.
"As much as I enjoy this," he rasped, "I would really like to touch you now."
Your stomach clenched in excitement. "Please do."
His eyes were wide, as he sat up and gazed over your body appreciatively. Sensing his hesitance, you decided to help. Grabbing his hands, you put them on your breasts, watching as he let out a deep breath. He began kneading them in his hands and you moaned as he experimentally squeezed your nipple.
You let him massage you over your nightgown, silently pleading in your head for him to just take it off. No sooner than the thought had entered your mind, Castiel grabbed the top of your nightgown and ripped it as effortlessly as he had in your dream, finally exposing your breasts to him.
You let out pornographic moans as Castiel began working you over. Sucking and nipping and kneading at your breasts until they began turning purple. His muffled noises drenching your panties.
“Show me” he moaned into you, kissing your breasts, “show me what you want”.
Your cheeks were red as the scene from your dream played over in your mind. At that moment you wanted nothing more than to see him between your legs.
“I see,” he spoke into your skin, reading your mind.
“You don’t have to.” you replied anxiously, staring at the ceiling.
At that he lifted off of you, rising up and gently guiding you to meet his eyes. “I want nothing more than to worship you” he spoke deeply, causing you to shudder.
He kissed you gently, before moving down. He placed kisses from your collarbone, to your breasts, and to your stomach before moving past where you wanted him. He kissed your thighs and you shook with anticipation. You watched with bated breath as he spread your legs, revealing your need. His eyes were almost black as he snapped his fingers, your panties disappearing. And without warning , he touched your center, causing you to fling a hand to your mouth to hide your ridiculously needy moan.
Castiel explored, running a finger through your slit. You could see how focused he was, his brow furrowed in concentration.
When he reached your clit, you bucked into his hand, causing his lip to upturn with pride.
“Castiel” you whined, unable to take your eyes off of him.
Hearing your prayers, Cas finally granted your wish, moving his mouth to your core and sucking. Hard.
You gasped and moaned as his mouth moved over you, it was nothing like you had ever felt before. Not for the first time that night you wondered, where he had learned this.
“You're doing so well, baby," you praised, reaching a hand down to grab his hair, causing him to whine loudly into your pussy.
Interesting.
Feeling the vibrations of his moans against you and the scruff of his 5 o'clock shadow on your thighs, your release came fast and soon you were arching into his mouth, screaming his name as you came.
It took you a few moments to calm down enough to speak as Castiel continued to lick at you gently, prolonging your high.
Soon enough you reached down to his hair and guided him up to you, pulling him into a kiss. You felt the wetness on his face as you tasted yourself on his tongue.
“Your turn” you spoke seductively as you pulled away, causing Cas to look away shyly. “That may not be necessary,” he said, causing you to look down between you.
Oh my god.
His boxers were wet with cum as he hovered over you; apparently he got off on eating you out.
You smiled, reaching a hand to caress his face, watching as he visibly relaxed at your touch. “Castiel, that is the hottest thing I have ever seen”, you told him honestly, feeling against your thigh as his dick came back up to attention.
Apparently angels didn’t need downtime.
His jaw went slack as you moved your hand up into his hair, scratching at his scalp and hearing him moan as you gently tugged.
Deciding it was your turn to please him, you guided him to lay back and resumed your position on top of him, now pressing your groin into his. His boxers being the only thing separating the two of you. You rolled your hips teasingly, causing Cas to grab your hips tight enough to leave a bruise.
You bent down, kissing his neck until you hit the one spot that had him throwing his head back into the pillows. You fixated there, sucking and nipping at the skin until Castiel was shaking with restraint underneath you.
“Please,” he moaned, watching you through hooded eyes.
Taking pity on the poor angel, you trailed kisses down his skin until your lips met his waistband. Meeting his eyes one more time, he nodded with silent confirmation and you pulled them down, watching as his cock sprung up, slapping his stomach. It was pink, long, and impressively thick.
Even his cock was perfect, you thought absentmindedly.
Castiel’s groans brought you out of your thoughts. He was painfully hard and had more than earned this.
You spit on your hand and wrapped it around his cock, causing him to let out a hiss from the sensitivity.
You worked him slowly, moving up and down a few times before leaning over and taking as much of him as you could into your mouth.
Castiel let out a sinful moan, a string of enochian words coming from his mouth as you began bobbing your head up down, focusing your attention on the head and jerking off what you couldn’t fit. It wasn’t long before his abdomen tensed and he was pulling you off of him.
Releasing with a pop, you looked up at him confused.
“I want to finish inside you.” he spoke breathlessly.
You bit your lip, climbing back on top of him. Reaching down, you grabbed his cock and lined him up. You were impatient and you could tell Cas was too. When you felt his tip catch your entrance, you sank down slowly. Feeling each inch as he stretched you, a pleasant ache in your lower stomach grew as you reached his base.
You looked at Cas to see his mouth open and eyes shut, his head thrown back in pleasure. Shakily letting out a breath, you moved your hands to his shoulders, lifting yourself up until he was almost entirely out of you, before slamming back down.
“Fu–ck,” Cas drew out, causing you to squeeze him in response. More desperate noises spewed from the angel as you felt yourself pulse around him. That was the first time you heard him swear and damn did you want to hear more.
Catching his breath, Cas brought his hands to grip your waist as you began bouncing on his cock. Loud moans came out of both of you as you chased your high.
You rode him until the ache in your thighs was too much to bear. You paused, praying to him silently to finish what you started.
Castiel let out a feral noise as he read your mind. More than happy to take the lead, he held you still and thrusted up into you as he sputtered in enochian.
“G geh ol madriax.” he moaned, “Ol trian forever boaluahe g.”
His voice had you barreling towards your second orgasm. It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar pressure in your lower abdomen.
“Castiel I’m gonna cum,” you let out pathetically as he fucked up into you. “Me too,” he groaned, as his thrusts became more sporadic. You felt yourself crest over and cried out his name as you came. Castiel wasn’t far behind you, a few more thrusts and he tensed, moaning as you felt his hot cum pour inside of you.
Spent, you collapsed on top of him as you both caught your breath. A few moments passed as Castiel rubbed your back and played with your hair.
“Thank you,” he spoke quietly, breaking the silence.
You smiled into his chest, sighing happily, “No, thank you Cas.”
gale: katniss will choose whoever she can’t survive without
peeta who was just peacefully sitting in the corner, trying to remember what the color orange looked like and didn’t even know there was a love triangle to begin with: ok??😐
Ngl the way I was reading this as a joke but now I’m HOOKED!!? This was so cute and sad at the same time omg I love itttt
Momentary Bliss
Summary: Luigi Mangione. Star student. Travel enthusiast. Alleged murderer. Hero of the people. For a fleeting moment he was more than that…he was yours.
A/N: fluff/angst fic abt a whirlwind romance luigi has with reader. WC is 7.4k so get comfy
Luigi sits in his seat, leg anxiously bouncing as he checks his watch for what feels like the millionth time. The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off. Now he just feels anxious. Anxious to leave this city behind and put as many miles as he can between him and New York.
He fidgets his jacket and releases a shaky breath.
“Hey, do you mind turning on the A.C.?” He calls out to the driver.
The bus driver looks in the rear view mirror and huffs when he sees who called out to him.
“Why don’t you try taking off your jacket first, pal?” He asks, before pulling his gaze away, continuing to look over the scheduled stops.
Luigi leans his head against the headrest of his seat and sighs. He feels much too hot with his face mask. And all the layers he’s wearing aren't exactly helping ease his sudden claustrophobia, but they’re a necessary evil. He has to stay covered, stay hidden until he’s far enough away to not be recognized. He breathes a sigh of relief when the driver finally puts the map down, checking his mirrors one last time before switching his turn signal on.
The bus has only just started to pull away from the curb when someone yells out.
“Hey! Wait!”
Luigi rolls his eyes as the bus comes to a stop, the doors opening a moment later.
“Oh my god, thank you so much.” You sigh as you climb the steps.
“Need to store anything under the bus?” The driver asks, scanning your ticket before handing it back to you.
“Nope.” You shake your head, holding up a small duffle bag with a smile. “Traveling light.”
The bus driver nods, closing the door again and turning to look out his side mirror.
“Jus’ grab any open seat.” He instructs.
You scan the bus, weighing your options of who would be the best person to sit beside. Luigi had curiously looked up when the doors opened, wanting to see who got on; however his mistake was that he didn’t look away. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he ended up locking eyes with you, but he still found himself letting out a startled gasp. You smile kindly and Luigi immediately looks away, fidgeting with his sleeves.
Fuck, he thinks to himself. So much for trying not to draw attention to himself.
You maneuver your way down the narrow passage, murmuring “‘scuse me” and “sorry” to the already settled passengers with a sheepish grin. Finally, you come to a stop beside a young man sitting on the aisle seat with the hood of his jacket up- covering his head.
“Excuse me,” You call softly. “Is it alright if I sit with you?”
Luigi’s fidgeting stops at the sound of your voice. He quickly considers his options before eventually deciding it’d be best for him to keep his aisle seat. After all, if he were to sit by the window, he’d be putting himself at risk of being spotted by anyone that happens to pull up alongside the bus.
Wordlessly, Luigi stands from his seat, avoiding your gaze as he does. He sneaks a quick glance at you when he hears you gasp softly, worried that you’ve found him out already.
“You’re letting me have the window seat?” You ask excitedly, smiling brightly at him before shuffling into the aisle and plopping down into the cushy chair. “Thanks!”
Luigi clears his throat before awkwardly nodding his head as he sits back down. You turn your body to face him again and Luigi tenses.
“I’m Y/N by the way.” You say before looking at Luigi expectantly.
He continues to stare straight ahead, doing everything in his power to avoid your curious gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders slump and finds himself feeling guilty.
“Mark.” He finally grumbles.
“Mm?” You hum, perking your head up at the sound of his baritone voice.
“My name…” He clarifies, still looking straight ahead. “It’s Mark…”
“Mark…” You repeat before beaming at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Again, Luigi chooses to silently nod his head.
Taking the hint that he wasn’t in the mood to talk, you turn your head to look out the window, though you know there won’t be much of a view since it’s a little past eight o’clock in the evening.
You’ve only made it a few blocks away from the bus station when you call out to the driver.
“Excuse me, sir? Would it be possible to turn on the air please?” You ask, craning your head in an effort to be seen over the rows of seats in front of you.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” The driver calls back, messing with the controls.
Immediately after, a cool breeze starts circulating the bus. You lean back in your seat with a content sigh.
“Oh, that’s much better.” You mumble to yourself, turning back to gaze out the window.
Luigi sneaks a glance at you, quickly taking in your delicate features before looking away. He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. For the first time today, the weight on his chest feels lighter and he doesn’t feel as if he’s struggling to breathe. He doesn’t know if you’re the reason or if it’s due to the air conditioning finally being turned on. He doesn’t care to dwell on it.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The bus had only been on the road for a little over an hour when Luigi started shuffling around; moving this way and that in his seat and groaning in discomfort. The bus drives over a pothole and Luigi grunts, holding onto the seat in front of him to brace himself.
“Hey, are you okay?” You ask cautiously, not wanting to overstep.
“Fine.” He grumbles through clenched teeth.
The bus goes over another pothole and this time he takes a shaky breath.
“Okay, you’re obviously not fine.” You argue, setting your phone down. “What is it? Are you getting car sick?”
Luigi shakes his head. You notice how uncomfortable he looks, almost as if he’s in pain and a lightbulb goes off in your head.
“Do you need a pillow to sit on?” You ask softly.
He looks at you with complete confusion on his features- which aren’t much to go off considering he still has his face mask and hood on. But judging by the furrow of his brows, you can only assume.
“For your hemorrhoids.” You whisper with a nod.
Luigi’s so caught off guard by the whole thing that he can’t help but let out a shocked laugh.
“I don’t have hemorrhoids.” He tells you with a shake of his head.
“Oh.”
“I have- back pain.” He admits reluctantly.
“Oh?”
“Horrible back pain.” He continues. “It’s been going on for years.”
You frown sympathetically at the news before remembering something you haphazardly threw in your bag earlier when packing. You grab your duffle bag from the floor, undoing the zipper and blindly rummaging through it until you hear the distinct crinkle of plastic packaging. You pull out the package, hesitating for only a moment before holding it out to him.
“Do you want this?” You ask shyly, worried you’re overstepping.
“…What is it?” Luigi asks skeptically.
“Heat pack. It helps when I get cramps,” You shrug. “I thought maybe…”
Luigi eyes the package and reads the label.
Hot Hands. Stick-on Body Warmer. Up to 12 hours of heat.
“Yeah…” He nods slowly. “Yeah, I’ll take it. But only if you’re sure-“
“Back pain’s a bitch; go crazy.” You assure.
Luigi takes the package from you and starts opening it while you set your duffel bag back on the floor. He places the patch on his lower back and settles into his seat. Within seconds it starts heating up. Judging by the relieved sigh he lets out, you can only assume that it’s working.
“So where ya going?” You ask him curiously.
“Not sure yet.” He answers cryptically. “Right now I’m just tryna get out of New York.”
You nod your head. He isn’t sure if it’s in agreement or acknowledgment.
“You?” Luigi asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. He’s gathered by now that you’re a bit of a chatterbox. He figures it’d be best to give vague answers and redirect the attention to you rather than just sit silently. From what he’s seen, you’re more than happy to do most of the talking.
“Ideally, California. Realistically, as far as I can make it.” You tell him with a small grin.
“What’s in California?” He asks curiously.
“What isn’t in California?” You ask in return. “There’s beaches, amusement parks, museums.” You list before staring off dreamily. “And L.A. is always like a perfect 70 degrees.”
“Florida has beaches and amusement parks too.” Luigi comments casually. “And it’s a shorter trip. Why don’t you go there?”
“Do I look ninety to you?” You ask with an offended frown. “Aside from grandmas freshly retired, I don’t think anyone willingly moves to Florida.”
Luigi chuckles and nods his head in agreement.
“Fair enough. But why go all the way to California?” He asks. “I mean, I’m sure there are other states that are much closer and have the same attractions.”
“Well sure. But California is quite literally on the other side of the country. I’m trying to get as far away from New York as I possibly can.”
“Hawaii?” Luigi offers with a grin, fondly remembering his time there.
“Too far.” You immediately shake your head.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re running from something?” Luigi asks, eyeing you suspiciously.
“I could say the same thing about you.” You fire back, almost defensive with how fast you answer him. Beside you, Luigi tenses. “And everyone else on this bus.” You add. Meanwhile, he releases the breath he had been holding. “I mean, you gotta admit it’s kinda sus.”
“But on the other hand,” You continue, less talking to him and more thinking out loud at this point. “Boarding a cheap bus that’ll drive all through the night while you sleep? Grade A traveling if you ask me.”
“Excellent point.” Luigi nods, thoroughly amused with your rambling. “Touché.”
You smile victoriously at him before turning back around and looking out the window. After a few minutes, you sink lower into your seat, getting more comfortable. Sensing that you’re done bothering him with mindless questions, at least for now, Luigi tries to get some rest. He sits back in his seat and crosses his arms before shutting his eyes.
Luigi’s just on the brink of falling asleep when he feels a sudden weight land on his left shoulder. He’s immediately on alert, opening his eyes and whipping his head to the side. He relaxes when he sees that there’s no threat, it’s just you. He’s about to pull away when you let out the softest of snores.
Luigi watches you sleep for a moment, taking in the serene look on your face and the steady rise and fall of your chest. He smiles softly to himself before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes once more, finally falling asleep himself.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The bus going over another pothole is what wakes Luigi a few hours later. He blinks his eyes slowly, trying to get his bearings. Sometime during his slumber his head dropped, coming to a rest atop yours. As soon as he realizes this, Luigi sits up, face burning in embarrassment.
Clearing his throat, Luigi looks down at you and notices that you’re still fast asleep with your head still resting on his shoulder. However now your arms are wrapped around his left one, hugging his appendage close to you, as if you’re worried he’d escape. He chuckles softly to himself, letting you sleep for a few more minutes.
Once the driver announces they’re a few minutes away from the station, Luigi decides to wake you. He shakes your shoulder gently and you stir slightly, frowning in annoyance before burying your face against his arm. Luigi rolls his eyes and huffs before shaking you a bit more firmly.
“Y/N.” He calls, continuing to shake you. “Come on. It’s time to wake up. We’ll be pulling into the station soon.”
Finally, you pick your head up, taking a deep breath and blinking sleepily as you look around.
“Mm?” You hum, trying to make out where you are.
You turn your gaze back to Luigi and smile sleepily at him. Before he knows what he’s doing, he finds himself smiling back.
“We’re almost at the station.” He repeats.
You nod your head, bringing a hand up to rub your eye. You see that your other arm is still wrapped around his and freeze, eyes widening before you quickly pull away.
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, covering your mouth in horror.
“It’s fine.” Luigi shrugs. “As long as you were able to get some rest.”
Seeing that he isn’t upset, you slowly put your hands down.
“Wow… Sweet and handsome. I fear you may be just my type.” You comment playfully.
Luigi raises his brows as he looks at you, hoping his mask hides how his face has gone red.
“What makes you think I’m handsome?” He asks, readjusting his hood.
“Mainly personal preference.” You shrug nonchalantly. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for brown eyes.” You tell him, placing your hand under your chin and batting your eyelashes at him.
Luigi shakes his head, letting out an amused huff. Luckily for him, the bus station becomes visible and you drop the conversation, pulling your phone out as you try to figure out what your next step will be.
As soon as the bus parks, everyone gets off and goes their respective ways. Some go wait for a different bus, others have people waiting for them, a few go get something to eat.
You scan the bus station before spotting a sign that lets you know you’re at the Newark station in New Jersey. You let out a relieved smile upon realizing you successfully managed to make it out of New York and again, Luigi finds himself wondering what- or who- you’re running from.
“So where you going next?” You ask, looking up at Luigi curiously.
“I’m not sure yet.” He comments. He has a few different options. Columbus, D.C., Richmond. “You?”
“Pennsylvania.” You tell him with a firm nod. “Think I’ll be able to catch a flight to L.A. from Altoona.”
“Altoona?” He repeats with furrowed brows. “Wouldn’t Pittsburgh be cheaper?”
“Yes.” You nod. “It would be. $139 cheaper to be exact. But Altoona is a smaller airport. Less people.”
“What are you running from?” Luigi asks again, words coming out before he can stop himself.
The playful smile you had disappears and Luigi mentally scolds himself for being the reason. You look over your shoulder at the information desk before turning back to Luigi, your smile more reserved.
“I should go…” You say solemnly, pointing over your shoulder. “Get my ticket before they get busier…”
Luigi looks over your shoulder and notices the line of people before nodding his head.
“Yeah… That’s a good idea…” He agrees, fidgeting with sleeves again.
“Bye Mark.” You smile, taking a small step away from him. “I hope you make it to wherever you’re going.”
“Yeah. You too.” Luigi nods.
He watches you take a few steps before calling out to you.
“Luigi.”
“Huh?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him with a confused frown.
“Call me Luigi.” He says, taking in a shaky breath as you continue to stare at him.
“You gave me a fake name.” You realize, narrowing your eyes at him.
Luigi rubs the back of his neck awkwardly at having been called out.
“Ahh…” He stutters.
“Well now I’m not gonna use it.” You say matter-of-factly as you turn back around.
“What?” He asks with a shocked laugh.
“Bye Mark!” You call, walking away before looking over your shoulder one final time and smiling at him.
Luigi shakes his head before scanning the station, eyes zeroing in on the bathrooms and suddenly remembering how badly he has to pee.
He doesn’t see you in line when he exits the bathroom a short moment later and assumes you went to wait inside. Pulling out his phone, he sees there’s a pub and grill on the other side of the station, about a block away, and decides to head there to get some food before figuring out his next step.
When he gets to the pub, Luigi gets an order of sliders and a bottle of water to go, putting them into his backpack before heading back to the station. He’s just about to sit at one of the tables to eat when he sees you exit the building and look at your phone before turning right.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Luigi continues to watch you. You take a few steps forward before looking back down at your phone. He assumes you’re following directions but to where? You cautiously scan your surroundings before hurrying across the street. Luigi hesitates for only a moment before following after you, shaking his head at himself. Where are you going at 11 o’clock at night in a city you don’t even know? And why does he care?
You reach the intersection and run across the street when you don’t see any cars. After safely crossing the road, you pull your phone back out, checking the map once more before continuing your walk. Apparently there’s a seafood restaurant around the corner that should still be open. You aren’t the biggest fan of seafood but you’re hoping they’ll at least have some chicken tenders. Getting excited at the mere thought, you pick up the pace, hurrying around the corner only to let out a startled scream when you see a man standing there.
“Oh shit, sorry!” You apologize to the man. “You scared me.” You admit with a laugh.
“That’s alright, beautiful.” The man assures, looking you over.
“Um. Okay…bye.” You say with a nod before walking past him.
You hear him start to follow after you and don’t think anything of it at first.
“Hey, hold up. Where you going?” He asks.
You turn around, and when you see that he’s talking to you, your eyes widen. You turn back around and start walking a bit faster.
“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He calls.
“I’m just looking for something.” You call over your shoulder at him.
“Me too.” He says. “And I think I just found it.”
“Uhm.” You stammer, turning to face him. “I was looking for a restaurant but I think it’s closed so I’m actually just gonna go-“
“Hey, hold on.” He says, grabbing your wrist before you can walk past him. “What’s the rush?”
“Hm? Oh! There’s- there’s no rush.” You shake your head with a nervous smile. “I just- I should be getting back. I-“
“Why’re you being like this? You’re hurting my feelings.” You try to pull your wrist free and his hold gets tighter. “I’m just tryna have a friendly conversation.”
“Well, I-“
“Let her go.” Someone else calls.
You and the man both turn around at the new voice. Your shoulders drop in relief when you see Luigi standing a few feet away.
“Who’re you?” The man asks with a frown.
“Doesn’t matter.” Luigi says calmly. “Let her go.”
“Look man, we’re in the middle of a con-“
“Conversation’s over.” Luigi cuts him off, staring pointedly at the hold he still has on your wrist. “Get your hand off of her before I break it.”
The man immediately lets go of your wrist, putting his hands up as he takes a step back.
“Whatever.” The man scoffs, starting to walk away. “This bitch ain’t worth it anyway.”
Luigi takes a step forward, prepared to go after him only for you to come to a stop right in front of him, blocking his way.
“Can we go back?” You ask, looking up at him with wide eyes.
Luigi stares at the man, still considering going after him only for you to get his attention again when you call his name. Well, his fake name.
“Mark?” You say, smiling softly when Luigi looks back at you with an offended frown.
“Yeah.” He finally sighs, looking you over, making sure you’re okay before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Luigi turns around and starts making his way towards the bus station, looking over his shoulder occasionally to make sure you’re still following him. After the third time, you fall into step beside him and grab onto his jacket sleeve. Luigi looks over his shoulder at you and you look up at him with a shy smile, silently asking if it’s okay. He doesn’t say anything about it, but he does let you keep holding onto him. He waits until you’re safely back at the station before scolding you.
“The hell were you thinking?” He asks, the moment you reach a table.
“What do you mean?” You ask, taking a seat and setting your bag down next to you.
Luigi mumbles to himself in Italian before letting out an exasperated sigh.
“Dolcezza, you are a beautiful, unaccompanied woman in a strange city, at night.” He lists. “You should know better than going off on your own.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask.
Luigi takes such a deep breath that you think he’s gonna inhale his face mask.
“I don’t think you thought this through.” Luigi comments.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not too late. You can still turn around and go back.”
“What the hell? I’m not going back to New York because of one minor hiccup.” You scoff.
“Minor hiccup?” Luigi repeats. “You’ve been here for all of thirty minutes and you already had a run in with a scary man-“
“News flash, asshole. There are scary men everywhere.” You tell him harshly. “Why do you think I left?”
Luigi freezes at the news. So he was right. You are running from someone.
“You don’t have to skip town because of him.” Luigi offers. “You can go to the-“
“The cops?” You cut him off. “Yeah. Lot of good that does. All I got was a piece of paper saying he can’t come within 100 yards of me which does jack shit, by the way, considering the fact that he was still stalking me at all hours of the day.”
Luigi doesn’t have anything to say to that. And you don’t blame him.
“I was going to a restaurant, okay?” You tell him. “It was right around the corner, I thought I’d be fine. Obviously I didn’t know I was gonna run into anyone on my way there… I was just hungry…”
Luigi runs a hand down his face and lets out a sigh. He feels like such a dick right now. Grumbling to himself, he takes off his backpack and undoes the zipper, reaching in and placing the bag of sliders on the table. You look from the bag to Luigi in confusion, only for him to set his bottle of water down as well.
“Eat.” He orders, zipping his backpack up.
“… What about you?” You ask softly.
“I’m going to take a walk.” He sighs.
Luigi ends up buying himself some snacks from the vending machine before returning to the table.
“I thought I told you to eat.” He comments, frowning when he sees there’s still two sliders on the table.
“I did.” You nod. “These are yours.”
As soon as he sits down, you slide the food towards him with a grin. Luigi looks between the sliders and you before nodding his head.
“Thanks.” He says, reaching for a slider and unwrapping one.
“I should be the one thanking you.” You murmur sheepishly.
“Don’t.” Luigi cuts you off. “I’m no hero.”
Luigi pushes his hood back and takes off his mask and you finally get to see his face. You take in all his features; his thick brows and hypnotizing brown eyes, his plump lips, and strong jawline.
“What?” Luigi asks, crumpling the wrapper into a ball and reaching for the last slider.
“I was right.” You sigh dreamily, resting your head on your hand as you smile at him. “You are handsome.”
Luigi huffs in amusement, though you don’t miss the pink dusting his cheeks.
“What’s dolcezza?” You ask curiously.
“It’s Italian.”
“You know italian?”
Luigi nods his head.
“Cool. What does it mean?” You continue to pry.
Luigi stares at you for a moment before finally telling you.
“Headache.” He says, taking another bite.
Your shoulders slump and Luigi snickers.
“Does it really?” You ask after a moment, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Mm-hmm.” He nods. “Headache. Nuisance. A pain.”
“I don’t believe you.” You tell him, pulling out your phone. “I’m gonna look it up. How do you spell it?”
“Mm-mm.” He shrugs.
“You just said you know Italian! All of a sudden you don’t know?”
Luigi smiles smugly at you and you narrow your eyes at him.
“That’s it. Give it back.” You order, reaching for what’s left of his slider. “You don’t deserve it.”
“You gave it to me.” Luigi argues, leaning back in his seat so that you don’t reach him.
“You gave it to me first!”
Luigi shoves the last bite into his mouth and grins at you.
“You’re horrible.” You tell him simply before checking your phone for the time.
“Well, I’d say this has been fun, but it hasn’t.” You tease, standing up and grabbing your bag.
“Be careful.” Luigi warns, watching as you gather your belongings.
“Bye Mark.” You reply teasingly, turning around and making your way towards the next bus you’ll be riding.
After getting your ticket scanned, you board the bus, settling into a window seat and placing your duffle bag on the ground. You still have at least fifteen minutes before it's scheduled to depart, so you pull out your phone and start playing a game to pass the time.
Slowly, more and more people start to board, though you don’t pay them any mind. The driver is just about to close the door when one final person steps on.
“Cutting it pretty close, pal.” He complains before finally closing the door.
The man doesn’t say anything, just gets his ticket scanned and starts making his way down the rows of seats. You only look up when someone sits next to you. You gasp when you look to your right and see Luigi settling into the seat beside you.
“This seat taken?” He asks, knowing very well that it isn’t.
“What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly. “I thought you didn’t know where you were going next?”
“Yeah, I thought so too.” Luigi shrugs bashfully, face mask and hood back on. “But I think I just figured it out.”
Luigi’s graced with your beaming smile as you tell him how excited you are that you’re spending the next couple of hours together. He wordlessly nods along but the truth is, he’s just as excited.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You and Luigi spent the last couple hours talking. Well, you did most of the talking, Luigi mainly listened. He learned that you studied business in college but got burnt out after a few years. Now, you’re content working odd jobs. You’ve worked at a pizza parlor, a library, and a boutique. You’ve been an assistant for event coordinators, a receptionist for an attorney’s office and a mail processing clerk. He learned that you’ve been no contact with your family for years and that you never got a drivers license because living in New York, you didn’t really need one. However now you’re worried you’ll look silly going to driving school at twenty six.
You managed to get some information out of Luigi as well, with a lot of poking and prodding. You learned that aside from being handsome and sweet, he’s also ridiculously smart, having graduated from an Ivy League school. You learned that he’s from Maryland and his family still lives there though he hasn’t spoken to them for a few months. He didn’t say why and you didn’t ask. You learned that he’s Italian and he does speak it and he does know what dolcezza means, however he still won’t tell you. Much to your annoyance.
Now here you are, at the Harrison bus station at five o’clock in the morning with a man you’ve known for eight hours, but can’t see yourself traveling without. You don’t know when you’ll have to go your separate ways, but you’re already getting attached to him, so you suppose you should start preparing yourself for your eventual goodbye now.
“Do you need another hot pack?” You ask Luigi as you both wait for the bus driver to come back.
“No, it’s okay. This one is still working.” He shakes his head.
“What is it? Like sciatica?” You ask curiously.
“Spondylolisthesis actually.”
“Sponda-what?” You ask.
“Spondylolisthesis.” He repeats. “It’s a spine condition. Happens when a fracture causes your vertebrae to slip out of alignment.”
“Oh my god.” You exclaim, absolutely horrified. “That sounds painful.”
“It is.” Luigi nods.
“Sorry about your back pain.” You frown sympathetically. “I’d recommend getting it looked at but you know, health insurance here is a fucking con. That’s one scam I can’t afford.”
Luigi whips his head up to look at you.
“Huh?” He asks, because surely he didn’t hear you right.
“I mean, think about it! You pay your premium every single month, even if you don’t see a doctor that month. When you do see your doctor, you have to pay a copay for the visit. And then on top of the premium and the copay, you still get billed afterwards! It’s bullshit! Not to mention all that money they get out of you only to end up denying your medication or your procedures.” You continue to rant. “I’m not gonna pay some company to make me look like an idiot. There are plenty of guys in my DM’s willing to do that for free.”
“I take it you don’t have health insurance?” He asks.
“In this economy? I think the fuck not.” You shake your head.
“So what do you do when you’re sick?” Luigi asks curiously.
“Pray.” You say simply before bursting out laughing. Luigi shakes his head, letting out an amused chuckle before clearing his throat.
“So what do you think about that CEO that-“
“Got murked?” You cut him off before waving your hand. “Man, fuck that guy.”
Luigi just sits there, silently staring at you, and you rush to finish proving your point.
“Okay, yes, murder is bad. We know that. Whatever. But you have to stop and ask yourself, how many people has he killed by denying them their medications? Or their treatment? The only difference between him and the shooter is that he does it without getting his hands dirty because he’s sitting behind a desk.”
Luigi can’t explain the warmth he feels in chest, seeing someone, seeing you be as educated and passionate as he is about everything. He’s starting to see that maybe you’re more alike than he thought. He’s finally starting to accept that maybe, you boarding his bus at the last minute wasn’t luck, but fate.
“You’re on his side, then? The shooter…” Luigi asks, wanting to be sure, needing to hear it bluntly from you.
“Oh, hell yeah.” You nod.
“But…they’re calling him dangerous on the news… A monster…” Luigi trails off.
“The news?” You ask with a roll of your eyes. “Please. Mainstream media is the worst place to get your information. They’ll spin the story whichever way they want so long as it continues to benefit the 1%.”
“Is he a murderer? Sure! Maybe. Who the fuck knows for certain.” You shrug. “But a monster?” You scoff. “He’s a human being. Just like you and me. At the end of the day, whether you’re a hero or a villain all depends on whether or not the government benefits from it.”
Luigi stares at you in complete awe.
“What?” You ask, shyly meeting his gaze.
“No. Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It’s just…you’re really something, aren’t you?”
“Shut up.” You mumble, looking away and gasping when you see the driver walking towards the bus.
“Look! The bus driver’s back! Let’s go!”
You stand from your seat and bound towards the bus while Luigi watches you with a fond smile. You turn around and frown when you see that Luigi isn’t with you. Once you spot him, you wave your hand, urging him to hurry. He stands and grabs his backpack, putting his hood and face mask back on before following after you.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
When you and Luigi arrived in Altoona, more than anything you wanted to walk around and stretch your legs after spending so much time sitting. So that’s exactly what you did. You walked for about an hour before sitting down on a secluded bench in a park.
“Still don’t know where you’re going?” You ask Luigi.
“No, not really.” He shakes his head. “Why?”
You shrug your shoulders and look away but Luigi is having none of that. He gently grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger, bringing your gaze back onto him.
“You’ve been running your mouth nonstop since the moment I met you. You choose now to go quiet?” He teases, frowning the tiniest bit when you don’t laugh along with him. “What’s wrong, dolcezza?”
“I still don’t know what that means.” You whine.
“Talk to me and maybe I’ll tell you.” Luigi offers.
“I just… I don’t know. I was thinking…” You start rambling nervously. “I don’t fuck with my family and you haven’t talk to yours in a while. And we both left New York and how funny that we met when we did and we happen to get along so well, right?”
“Right…” Luigi nods.
“And okay, so I don’t really have a plan. Just a vague, loose idea of one. But I was thinking, well, more like wondering, but I didn’t really know how to bring it up in conversation. And even now, I still don’t think this is the best way to go about it but-“
“Dolcezza, please.” He sighs, begging you to just get to the point already.
“Why don’t you come to L.A. with me?” You blurt out.
Luigi’s head reels back at the question. He isn’t sure what he was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.
“Or I go with you… to… wherever you’re going next.” You offer. “But let’s stay together.”
“I just- I really like you.” You mumble shyly.
“I like you too.” Luigi admits with a smile.
“You do?”
“What’s not to like?” He asks, with a fond smile. “You’re beautiful, funny, smart.” He lists before cupping your cheek with his hand. “You’re everything, sweetheart.”
You get a boost of confidence at his confession, leaning forward and placing your lips upon his in a soft, gentle kiss. Luigi responds immediately, head tilting to the side as his mouth continues to move against yours. Luigi nips at your lower lip and you let out a gasp, causing him to chuckle. You hit his shoulder playfully as he presses a final firm kiss to your lips, pulling back and gazing at you with an awestruck smile.
“Yeah.” He finally breathes, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear for you. “Let’s stay together.”
You smile excitedly at Luigi, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips before standing up, pulling him with you.
“Great! So what’s next? Where do you wanna go?” You ask, right as your stomach grumbles.
“I feel like maybe we should eat first.” Luigi teases, chuckling at your sheepish smile. “Come on, I think I saw a McDonald’s a few blocks away.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You’ve just gotten your food when it all comes crashing down. You run to the bathroom, and a moment later two older gentlemen walk in. One of them makes a passing comment to his friend about how Luigi looks like the CEO shooter as they make their way to the register. Luigi doesn’t visibly react, though from the corner of his eye he catches the cashier continuously glancing at him.
Luigi lets out a long, tired sigh as he comes to the realization that this is it. The cashier disappears and he just knows she’s calling the FBI, telling them a murderer is in her establishment. He doesn’t regret any of his actions, not in New York and definitely not when he decided to follow you. The only thing he does regret is letting himself think that he’d have more time with you. Because now reality is sinking in that while the last twelve hours have been momentary bliss, any minute now it’ll all be ripped away from him- you’ll be ripped away from him.
Luigi quickly unzips his backpack, opening the side panel that held his cash. He takes the money out before folding it up and tucking it into your duffel bag. He then grabs your McMuffin, sliding it towards himself, making it seem like he’s the only one sitting here. You come back a minute later, sliding into your seat in the booth across from him with a smile.
“I’m back.” You announce with a grin.
“I need you to do something for me.” Luigi states urgently.
The cold tone of voice causes you to look up at him in concern.
“What?”
Under the table, he slides your duffle bag to you.
“I need you to walk out of here, and not look back.” He starts.
“What?” You repeat with a confused frown.
“Keep your head down and get out of here. As far as you can.” Luigi urges. “Get on another bus, hop on a train, buy yourself a ticket to L.A. like you wanted. I don’t care but you have to go.”
“Luigi, what the hell are you talking about? I-I thought we were sticking together… what’s going on?” You question.
“I’m not who you think I am.” Luigi admits, looking away with shame.
“I don’t think you’re anyone.” You shake your head with a laugh. “I…I just think you’re you… and I like you.”
“You can’t.” Luigi stresses.
“Lu, seriously, you’re scaring me.” You tell him. “What’s going on?”
“Dolcezza, please” He begs, quickly looking out the window and checking for cop cars. “Please. You have to get out of here. You have to go.”
“But…what about you?” You ask softly, eyes starting to water at the thought of leaving him behind, especially so suddenly.
Luigi smiles, desperately wanting to reassure you, though you don’t miss that his eyes are welling up too.
“I’ll be right behind you.” He nods with a sniffle.
With your bottom lip quivering, you nod; grabbing your duffle bag from under the table and standing up. You blink and the tears you were holding back start to fall. Not wanting Luigi to see you cry, not wanting to make this harder for either of you, you quickly turn away, sniffling as you make your way towards the side door.
Once you’re outside, you put the strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder and walk across the street. Before the McDonald’s completely disappears from your line of sight, you turn around and see a swarm of cop cars in the parking lot.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“-CEO was shot early Wednesday morning outside the New York Hilton-“
Click.
“Officers then asked him for identification, and Mangione handed them a New Jersey driver's license bearing the name of a 26-year-old named Mark Rosario. Now that is the same name from a fake New Jersey ID used by a man to check into a Manhattan hostel more than a week before Thompson's killing.”
Click.
“-taken into custody at 9:14 a.m. for gun and forgery charges-“
“Man, this guy is everywhere.” Your coworker Jenny says, changing the tv to yet another channel reporting on Luigi.
“-interestingly though, during the hearing Mangione made an odd request.”
“That’s right, Diane.” The co-anchor says. “The judge allowed Mr. Mangione to receive phone calls from his family, but he didn’t want it; asking instead to send a message. Take a look.”
“Luigi,” His attorney warns. “I strongly advise against-“
“Two sentences.” Luigi barters, ignoring his attorney and looking straight at the judge. “That’s all I ask. Please.”
The judge looks towards his attorney who shrugs his shoulders, clearly just as clueless as she is.
“You can bring the message forward.” The judge tells his attorney. “I’ll decide if it’s safe to share or not.”
Luigi immediately scribbles something down on a notepad, before ripping a scrap of paper off and handing it to his attorney. The attorney reads what’s written and gives Luigi a look before approaching the bench and handing the paper to the judge.
“I wish we had more time together.” The judge reads aloud. “I’m sorry.”
“Thomas Dickey, Mangione’s attorney answered a few questions from the press; here’s what he had to say.”
“Mr. Dickey, what do you think about the note?”
“What can I say? He’s a real Casanova.” He shrugs.
“Mr. Dickey. That message has since gone viral online with many people wondering who he’s talking to. Any idea?”
“What is this a slumber party?” He asks with a chuckle. “A true gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” He says, causing the media to laugh. “I don’t know. Didn’t even know there was someone until he handed me the note. I’m just as in the dark as you are.”
“Hey, it’s pretty slow right now, do you wanna go take your break?” Jenny asks.
“Yeah,” You nod, giving her a small grin. “Sure.”
“Okay. See you in fifteen. Enjoy your break.”
You grab a pastry and a hot chocolate before heading to the break room.
You did what Luigi asked, booking yourself a plane ticket to L.A. When you got off the plane, all everyone was talking about was the CEO shooter being caught. You were shocked when you found out it was Luigi but not at all surprised to see the outpouring of support he was getting online.
The money he slipped into your bag helped you get by until you were able to get your bearings in Los Angeles. It paid for your hotel, your food, your clothes. Eventually you were able to find an affordable apartment for rent and managed to get a job at a cafe a few days later.
Through it all, you kept your head down and kept yourself busy, staying away from television and social media, if only because you weren’t strong enough to see Luigi everywhere you looked. Sitting in the break room, you open TikTok for the first time in days.
“Just when I thought he couldn’t be more perfect.” One user gushes in a video.
You swipe up, seeing what the next video is.
“So apparently this guy is the total package.” Another user says, this one a man himself. “Smart, rich, ridiculously good looking, and romantic? Oh man. I feel like I should just gift wrap my wife and hand her over at this point.” He jokes with a laugh. “I mean, he is on a whole other level.”
You chuckle before swiping up again.
Immediately the woman on your screen starts screaming.
“Bro.” She gushes. “I wish we had more time together? I’m sorry?? Hello?? I’m ughhhhh.” She groans, throwing herself onto her bed. “You can see it in his eyes. He really meant that. Whoever she is, you just know that she means so much to him. And the fact that he probably just got ripped away from her. I’m-“ she brings a pillow up to her face and lets out a blood curdling scream.
You swipe up again.
This video is different. It’s a clip of Luigi looking over his shoulder during the hearing. He looks right at the camera and it’s almost as if he’s staring right at you. The sound on the video is a loop of the judge reading his note out loud. You spend the rest of your break watching that video.
Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.
“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”
Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.
“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”
Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.
“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”
When your timer goes off, you download the video, saving it to your camera roll before heading back out.
“I wish we had more time together, too.” You sigh to yourself, grabbing a cloth to wipe down the counter.
Master of Puppets
Summary : You meet someone who caught your attention the first time, and he was all you desired.
But what happens when that desire is taken for granted?
Pairings: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!reader
Chapter 1:
Running across the apartment complex sure was a workout. The loud screams of the people getting massacred was enough to give you that adrenaline rush that you needed. Even if you feel your limbs go numb you would not dare give up so quickly. Not sure where to run off to, you let your body naturally guide you to the top of the complex. As you reached the top, you see a figure at the very corner. It was that mysterious guy you saw at the entrance of the complex. His white hoodie stood out to you along with this his light hair peaking out of his hood. Instead of heading to his direction, you felt frozen in place. Your body would not move and all you could do was look at him. He locked eyes with you, startling you in your place. Like a deer in the headlights, good job Y/N. Feeling your heart aggressively palpitating against your chest you couldn’t help but turn around and run. Why did you run away? He’s obviously not the tagger are you stupid? You don’t know why, but those few seconds of eye contact with him gave you an unexplained feeling. Your heart was beating more than it should and you feel your cheeks flushed. What the hell was that?
The round finished quicker than you expected as a few people found the safe room. Leaving the apartment complex you were glad that it was finally over. Your body was in need of a deep rest after all that fiasco. Deep in your thoughts you failed to realize the figure standing in front of you, and you feel your body hit against an object.
“Oh, Sorry I-” you look up and see the same guy with the white hoodie. Your mouth stopped and it was as if your brain just lost all function. He looks at you curiously, wondering how you were going to finish your sentence, but nothing was coming out.
“Be careful next time.” Was all he said as he walked away.
And this was the first time you have met him.
****
The Beach was definitely not something you expected. Literally, you thought it was an actual beach, not a resort with people partying all the time. You had to admit, it was nice seeing everyone enjoying their time. It lets them know that even though it might be their last time here, they should enjoy their days to the fullest.
Walking around the bar you saw people dancing like there’s no tomorrow, people drunk off their asses and makeout sessions happening left and right. Seeing the people around you having fun made you want to get that same satisfaction. You grabbed a bottle of liquor from the counter and started to drink. The burning sensation immediately hit your throat. Taking few extra sips you walked to the dance floor and started to dance. You weren’t the best dancer but who cares? It’s not like anybody here is going to judge you based on how well you could dance. Several minutes go by and you feel the effects of the alcohol hitting you. Instead of continuing to dance you make your way to the pool lounge and jump right into the pool and screamed right before you hit the water. Laughter escaped your lips, particularly for no reason at all. You were definitely tipsy at this point. Swimming around the pool felt therapeutic, it was as if the water was giving you one giant hug that you didn’t want to get out of. Looking up, you see people laying down on their lounge chairs talking amongst each other. Observing everyone in the room, your eyes lock in to a particular person. One that seemed oddly familiar to you. He was leaning against the fence just looking at you, amused. Where have I seen him? Several seconds of eye contact go by and you remember. The guy from the five of spades game. You feel your heart do a somersault, your cheeks flaring up and limbs go numb. The alcohol really is hitting me harder this time then ever before. Breaking the eye contact, you swim to the other side of the pool to get off. When you look back, he was no longer there. Was I hallucinating? I had to be.
When you made it to your room one big jump to your bed was all it took for you to completely knock out.
And maybe, that was the second time that you have seen him.
****
The game was inside an abandoned cafe. A bell chimes when you open the door, grabbing the attention of the man and a woman already inside. In front of you was a table with two phones. Being the third one there, you picked it up to register for the game. Taking a closer look around the inside of the cafe, you noticed the old artworks plastered around the room. Despire the state of condition they are in, you couldn’t help but enjoy some of the work. One in particular that you enjoyed was the skeletal drawing of the face of a deer in black and white. You make your way closer to the painting, studying it.
The bell chimes indicating that the last person has joined the game. You didn’t immediately turn around to see who it was, for whatever reason the artwork was very captivating to you. As the game was about to begin you turn around and see the same man once again. At this point you weren’t sure if its just a coincidence or if you’re going absolutely crazy. He didn’t notice you at first either. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Something in him told him he was being watched and as he looked up his eyes met yours. You quickly averted your eyes to one of the paintings against the wall.
The game screen chimes, indicating that the game is about to begin. There are 4 participants and the difficulty is a three of hearts. Great. The game is called Spyfall. The rule for the game is to figure out who is the spy. The game ends when the spy is captured.
Each person is seated at one of the large tables in the back of the cafe. There is one card faced down in each seat. There is a large distance among the person sitting in front of you and adjacent, to prevent any cheating.
You pick up the card, hoping that you are not the spy. Looking at your card you see that the location is an Amusement park. You try not make it obvious that you aren’t spy, holding in the huge relief that has been carrying on you. If anything, this game specifically is more difficult for the spy because there is less people in the game. Now, since you are obviously not the spy and the there is 4 participants total, meaning that there is at least a 33% chance that one of the other players is the spy. Attentiveness is important in this game, so the responses of the questions being asked are clues to what the role of the player could be.
As everyone was asking each other questions and answering them, it was starting to get a bit difficult to figure out who the spy is. If anything, it seems as if they all are answering the questions unsuspiciously. The time was ticking and it was getting harder to think of other questions.
“You seem a little nervous there aren’t you?” said the woman to you.
“What?”
“Well you keep fidgeting with your fingers and looking down, seems pretty suspicious of you. I mean, why would you be so nervous?”
You weren’t sure how to even respond to that. I mean you obviously know you aren’t the spy you have the card to prove it, but you can’t reveal that as it will give away the answer to the real spy, which is game over for you.
“Cat got your tongue?” she mocked.
“I’m just taken aback with what you said, I mean what’s your proof?”
“You didn’t even answer my question. Why are you nervous?”
“I just naturally am. Is that a problem? I mean im not the spy.” At this point she was annoying the hell out of you and you wanted nothing more then to shut her up.
“Yeah that’s something the spy would say.” she rolled her eyes. “My vote is for her. She’s the spy i know it.”
You were in disbelief. It honestly didn’t even matter if you’re the actual spy or not in this game because if you are voted against then it’s game over for you. The game does not end until the real spy is captured or if the spy is the last one standing.
You looked around to see what the other two men thought. The older man was silent, while the guy in the white hoodie had a smirk on his face, looking pretty amused at the cat fight that seems to have occurred.
“Well, I mean she is right. Your responses were one-worded and you were mostly quiet throughout the entire game. Everyone else here seemed to have talked more than you.” said the older man.
“See, it’s obvious.” barked the woman.
“Im not the spy! How many times do I have to fucking tell you, and even if i do try to explain myself you’re just gonna dismiss my response as a lie.” you yelled. “Ask me more questions then and i will gladly answer whatever you guys throw at me.
The woman gave you a dirty look and the older man looked as if he was thinking of another question to ask you very specifically.
“Ok then, is this place somewhere you would enjoy being at?” asked the older man.
“Absolutely not,” you responded.
He looked at you confused.. “Oh, and why is that?”
“Because I will get sick.” and with that the older man seems to understand.
It gets quiet for a while until another voice begins to speak, “This game could’ve easily ended a while ago.”
“See, everyone believes me!” said the woman.
“Just because someone isn’t responding the way you want them to does not mean that they are the spy. Their responses were very straight forward.” explained the younger man.
The woman is startled, not knowing how to respond to that.
“And based on how you were responding specifically, you were too talkative. You kept trying to explain things when there was no need. It was starting to get annoying. At one point you slipped up on your answer and you didn’t even realize.” he chuckles. “Then you suddenly accuse her of being the spy. Seems like desperation isn’t it?”
You could see the woman’s face getting red, both of anger and embarrassment.
“You were getting desperate that you could not figure out what the exact location is, and in order to save yourself you thought diverting the attention to her would make you appear less suspicious, when in fact it only made you do the opposite.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Was this guy really defending you? You are absolutely grateful for that but it was something you did not expect to come out of his mouth.
The older man seems to agree with what the younger man said as he nods in agreement. “Well I guess that concludes the game.”
You all voted for the woman, and when she reveal her card she was in fact the spy. “I hate you all” was all she said before the laser immediately kills her. You look at the younger man who was now facing you. Feeling your tongue tied you had difficulty thanking the man that defended you, “T-t-thanks.” you said to him.
He gives you a smirk, “I wasn’t really trying to help you if that’s what you were thinking.”
“N-no not at all.” you look down, unsure on what else to say. He gets up to leave the building but you call him out before he could open the door.
“Wait!” you yelled. He looks back at you, locking eyes with you with that same old smirk.
“What’s your name”
“Chishiya.” He turns around and walks out.
And this was the third time you have seen Chishiya, where it all began.
Ghost x reader but you never actually met him before. You joined a letters to soldiers program on a whim, figured there would be no harm in it since it got filtered through the charity service- your address would never be shared with the stranger.
You didn't know how to start the first letter really, so you didn't do much at all. You shared your name and a general description of your looks and your life. You asked plenty of questions, so your soldier wouldn't feel the same awkwardness you did. You were definitely projecting some image of a strong but smelly jock who joined the military to goof around instead of take things seriously, so you ended it with a pun.
"If you are near a boat, remember you'll always have a hat. Just flip the boat over-- it'll become capsized!"
Your heart sank as you read his rather curt response letter a few days later. Some asshole with the emo ass sounding callsign of Ghost decided he was too good for you. He made it very clear he wasn't likely to divulge much information about himself, mainly for his own safety. His entire letter was matter of fact and broadly negative, punctuated with a comment that he was only doing these letters because he had been mandated to by an "overbearing mother hen of a captain". He encouraged you to not put too much effort into your letters, in fact he suggested that if you were sincerely seeking conversation to pick up another solider to send letters to.
However, his post script admission that your joke was simultaneously terrible and hilarious, and that he told it to one of his soldiers and it made them groan- which he thanked you for- that made you giggle and start a new letter for him.
He tried to act like writing to you was the bane of his existence, the darkness of his week that loomed over his head like the sword of Damocles. After enough time, you learned to just roll your eyes at his dramatics and keep on writing. He continued to keep his private information away from you but seemed to prove time and time again that he did read (and remembered) what you wrote to him about yourself. Eventually, he began to ask you questions about yourself, showing genuine interest in your life.
It was him who broke the photo boundary- sent you a printed photo after months of letter exchanges. Of a man in a mask holding a rather large looking German Shepherd over his shoulder like a sack of flour. On the back, in the usual neat and pointed writing, "Myself and Riley, ××/××/××××." He didn't reference or acknowledge the photo in the actual letter, so you respectfully didn't comment on it. Despite having a million new questions about the Halloween-looking mask. How was that even tactical?
Speaking of Halloween- that was when you sent a photo in return. Well, two days after Halloween, when your photos were printed. Your friends had taken this one- it was you, asleep on the couch in your fairy costume after the party, wings bent and crooked under your weight. Your cat was cuddled up against your chest, and all in all you figured it'd possibly be an entertaining photo to share. After you sent it out to be mailed though, you started to mentally cringe.
'The first time the guy is seeing you, and you look like you probably passed out drinking! Or worse, did you look like a slut? Did you have a booger? You fucking hate not having digital copies of photos!!'
Your self-prescribed embarrassment was only swayed by the fact that Ghost passed the next boundary- he commented on the photo. Kinda.
"P.S.: That photo... cute."
You kept reading and rereading his words, tracing your fingers over the letters. He didn't seem like the guy to kiss ass, or compliment on reflex. From there, you both sent a photo with every letter.
It was nearing Christmas when you sent him a photo of you next to your Christmas tree, all dressed up with popcorn garlands and twinkling lights. You had an ugly holiday sweater on over sweats and fuzzy socks, a big smile on your face. It felt cute enough. Not that you were trying to impress him or anything.
And good thing you totally weren't, because he sent it back to you with his response letter.
"Can't stand the holidays. Bad times for me, bad memories. I don't want this, sorry." The photo looked like it had been wadded up, then upon second thought was spread back flat with a regretful hand.
You couldn't- didn't want to- imagine what he could be referencing. A man who sees the horrors of war and mankind who can't stand Christmas? Something must have really fucked him, then.
You don't send a photo with the next letter for the first time since you had began. What you wanted to say was too important.
"I'm sorry it's a hard time for you, I'll remember that and be more aware in the future. I don't do much for the holidays myself- if you need anyone to talk to... anyone who isn't some big bad killing machine, that is... call me. Seriously. This is my number. Block your number or something, I don't care. No one should have to deal with things alone. ×××-×××-××××."
Christmas Eve, middle of the night, you get a phone call from an unknown caller. You were dozing off on your couch, holiday specials on the TV before you. You take your time picking it up, your brain not making the possible connection. No greeting comes, and you say hello several times to still no response. Just breathing.
"This you?" Silence. "Ah. Okay, I can work with this." You tell him about your day, your week, the last book you read. You were talking for what felt like ages, the soft sound of breathing being your only feedback. Looking at your phone screen, the call showed at just under 45 minutes. You finally yawned, pausing in your ramblings. "I'm getting sleepy... This might sound dumb but... You mind staying on a while 'til I sleep?"
Still no response. You sigh and cuddle down deeper into the blankets covering you, eyes drooping at another movie rerun. You don't hear the call end, but when you wake up the next day, your phone records showed the call lasted about two hours.
Right Timing | Charles Leclerc
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🥹
Cherry Bomb | Billy Hargrove x reader
The reader gives Billy a run for his money
Aka you’re loud and tough and have a cool car and for Billy that means love at first sight. I might have written him too sweet here but idc, this was supposed to just be a short little thing and then it took on a life of its own and here we are. Sorta follows the start of season 2 but then does its own thing lol
Masterlist
Requests are open!
(Will do a part 2 soon bc I like this reader lol)
Warnings: mentions of abuse, drinking, f slur/homophobia (thanks neil)
Tags: @smenny @infinitelyforgotten
Billy Hargrove hated this fucking town.
He hadn’t even been at the new house for a full week yet, and he hated it and everything around it. Hawkins was a little shithole, as far as he was concerned, full of hicks who couldn’t tell their left asscheek from their right. And the worst part? It was October, and it didn’t even look cool outside.
God, he wanted to go back to California. At least it was sunny there. At least he had the beach. This place was just gloomy and beige, the townspeople all boring and normal. Nice, conservative families, who dressed in nice, conservative clothes, and drove nice, conservative cars.
That really wasn’t Billy’s scene.
At all.
Keep reading
This whole thread has killed me
˚ ⟢ .˚ 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 ˚. ⟢ ˚ 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓
[ oscar piastri x fem!reader ] - REQUESTED
┈⋆⭒ summary. after accidentally discovering one of your boyfriend's kink, you can't wait to try it out with him.
┈⋆⭒ word count. 2.3k
┈⋆⭒ tags. smut, pegging, slight fem!dom
⌇WARNINGS. none ‹𝟹
You hadn't meant to, really. You had forgotten to send an important email to your boss and were too lazy to get your laptop from downstairs; so you took your boyfriend, Oscar’s, laptop and opened it before typing the password in. It’s not like he had anything to hide or even that he didn't know that you sometimes used his computer: he was literally the one to share his password with you. But as your eyes widen at the video playing on the screen, you're beginning to feel guilty for peeking into Oscar's personal stuff.
Before your eyes is a video of a couple, naked, on a bed. Now, you were not a prude, and with all the travelling he did, all the time spent away from you, it was not strange to learn that he might occasionally watch these kinds of videos but the fact that he was watching porn was not what shocked you about this. No, the man on the screen was on his knees, muffled moans and whimpers coming from where his head was hidden in the pillow. The woman was behind him, a blue dildo strapped to her hips buried deep inside the man’s ass as she stroked his cock.
"Taking me so well honey, such a good boy for me." The woman’s voice is sultry as she praises the trembling man beneath her. She’s folded over his back kissing his shoulders as she jerks him off faster, never letting the movement of her hips falter. "I’m gonna come, mistress" The man whines and before he starts shooting ropes of white onto the bed, you close the laptop, your cheeks burning from embarrassment. Or was it desire? You weren't sure then and still weren’t sure once the strap-on you had ordered immediately after this discovery had arrived at your apartment.
You hid the box inside your closet, your mind racing with dirty thoughts and a bit of doubt: what if he had been watching just out of curiosity? Even worse, what if he had watched it with disgust? What if he ended up being weirded out by how wet the idea of fucking him made you.
—
You'd almost forgotten about it until the winter break came. He had spent the first few days of his time off with his family in Melbourne and had planned to spend the rest of the break with you, in your shared flat. You loved seeing your boyfriend achieving his dreams and if you were honest, getting to visit multiple places around the world was not too bad either but lately, you really had embraced the calmer, more domestic lifestyle with the racing driver. You were currently seated on the couch across from Oscar, watching— or in your case pretending to watch— some boring Netflix show. You kept glancing at him, trying to find the courage to ask him about what had been plaguing your mind since all those months ago.
"What's up?" He finally asks, realizing you weren't going to ask him about what was bothering you anytime soon.
Your eyes go wide; a deer caught in the headlights. You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding and slowly turn your entire body to face him.
"Okay, well. Please don't be mad." you start, he furrows his eyebrows, urging you to go on, "I- I saw what you were watching a few months ago, I didn't mean to!" You quickly add. The poor guy looks completely puzzled. "The porn." You say, feeling your cheeks growing hot.
He seems even more confused, "Baby, what the hell are you talking about?"
"The pegging!" You say, louder than you anticipated.
He swallows thickly and starts looking for his words as his entire face flushes a deep shade of red.
"I– uh…"
"It's fine! It's okay, really, I don't mind– I mean it looked kinda hot." You say, sheepish.
"Oh." He says, although still not meeting your eyes.
An awkward silence follows, both of you looking for what to say.
"I, uh–" You get up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom, "Come."
You stop when you're in front of your closet and look back at him.
"I- I bought something, a while ago. After, well, you know. I think– I'd like to try it." You tell him, pulling the box from the depths of the closet and handing it to him.
His eyes widen slightly and he looks up at you before taking the box. He opens the lid and pulls the contents of the box out, his eyes growing even wider when he sees the dildo.
"Oh." he breathes.
"What do you think?" Your voice is slightly uneven, still afraid he's going to laugh and tell you it was all a stupid joke.
"Um–" He's beet red as he sits on the bed.
"We don't have to do anything, if you think it's weird, we can just... forget about it. I–" You start rambling.
"I-I've never done that before, you know." He cuts you off, still not looking at you.
He's eyeing the toy and you realize he wants this as much as you do, perhaps even more, but you need him to say it.
"Me neither," you sit next to him on the bed, "do you want it?"
"Yes," he admits after a moment.
That's all it takes for you to straddle him and press your lips against his. He responds immediately, opening his mouth for you to slip your tongue in. You moan as he places his hands over your ass and you start grinding over his already hardening bulge. You pull back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips.
"Strip."
You're not used to ordering him around, especially not in bed, but the way he immediately obeys, once you get off his lap, scrambling to take his clothes off makes the blood in your veins feel electric. You look inside the box, pulling out the harness.
"Lie down."
Once again, he does as he's told, lying back against the mattress. You take your pants off and step inside the harness, adjusting the straps to fit you comfortably. You turn around, your breath catching in your throat at the sight: He's already panting, his chest is flushed and his hair is dishevelled. You follow his happy trail with your eyes until you reach his hard cock trapped between his fist, as he tries his hardest not to just start stroking it. The tip is glistening with precum and you can feel yourself dripping onto the inside of your thighs as you watch it leak along his length and into the light hair at the bottom of his shaft.
"Fuck." You groan before biting your lip. You take your shirt off and kneel on the bed, in front of him.
You kiss him softly, cupping his cheeks before running your hands down his sides and settling them on his thighs, parting them gently. You place a kiss on his nose, then his jaw and finally you start kissing and sucking at his neck. You lick his pulse point, enjoying the whimper you elicit from him.
"Please-" He breathes out.
"Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want." You whisper in his ear, nipping at his earlobe.
"I- I want you to fuck me."
You smirk against his skin and kiss his shoulder.
"Yeah? I'm going to open you up first, make sure it feels good when I get my cock in you." You're not sure where this sudden confidence comes from but when Oscar's hips buck up involuntarily at your words, you can't really seem to care anymore; you just want to make him feel good.
You grab the lube from the bedside table and pour a generous amount on your fingers, warming it up slightly before reaching down to rub circles against his entrance. He shivers at the contact and you replace the hand he has around his dick with your other one. You look up into his eyes.
"If you want me to slow down, or even stop everything, tell me and I will." You tell him and he nods as the tip of his ears turn pinkish.
"Fuck." He swears as you sink your finger into his hole.
"Good boy." You praise, feeling him clench down around your index as you push past the ring of muscle, slowly easing your finger in and out of him, trying to get him to loosen up. "That feel good?"
He hums, "Yes, fuck, don't stop."
You get back to it and after a while, you enter a second finger, curling them immediately hitting his prostate. His mouth falls open and a loud moan fills the room.
"That's it, baby, let me hear how much you love it." You say as you keep grazing the same spot over and over and slowly twisting your fist around his length, making his eyes flutter as his back arches slightly from the bed.
You keep stroking him rhythmically, squeezing your thighs together, trying to ease the pressure forming between your legs as the sounds of your slick fingers pushing into him and his moans, groans and whimpers fill the air. Suddenly his eyes widen and he grabs both of your wrists, halting your movement inside him and around his length.
"Fuck, stop. I’m gonna come."
You smirk, a spark of pride growing in your chest from getting him already so close to coming.
He's looking at the silicone cock hanging heavily between your legs: arousal and nervousness painted on his face. You drip some lube onto your strap, stroking yourself slowly and giving him your best bedroom eyes.
"Shh, relax my love, we'll go slow," you promise as you get closer between his thighs, "if at any point you want me to stop–"
"I'll tell you." He finishes for you.
"Good boy." You whisper in his ear, making him choke out a whine as a light blush spreads across his chest and neck.
With that, you peck his lips gently and put your hands on his thighs, keeping him open for you. You watch his hole flutter in anticipation and pour more lube onto your cock before nudging the head against his rim. You look up at him and he's got his eyes squeezed shut and his head anchored to the pillow. You push in slowly and watch his face contort into a grimace.
"You're doing great." You reassure him and he nods his head slightly, his lips still sealed into a tight line.
As you push another inch in, you grab his cock, stroking him softly and rubbing slowly the spot under the head, trying to appease your tense boyfriend.
"You're being so good for me, baby." You tell him as he starts relaxing.
You're about halfway in and you can't believe how aroused you are, even though you can't actually feel any pleasure from the strap.
"How does it feel?" You ask him, slowly continuing your intrusion inside his hole.
"Feel so full." He whimpers.
"Yeah? You're taking me so well my love."
You lean over his body and press your lips against his. When your hips meet his ass, you stay there, allowing him to adjust.
"Fuck," he whispers after a moment, "you can move, please."
You kiss him again and slowly start pulling out of him before thrusting back in, slow and steady only picking up the pace when he starts moaning and gasping under you.
"So pretty like this. My pretty boy, letting me fuck his pretty little ass."
He throws his head back, his mouth wide open, a low groan rumbling through his chest. You lean back, lifting his thighs and changing the angle in which you're drilling into him. He can't help the yelp that comes out of his mouth as you hit his prostrate straight on.
"Fuck! Right there. Please don't stop."
"There? Does that feel good, baby?"
He can't answer you, his brain going fuzzy with pleasure.
"Tell me." you order, "Does. It. Feel. Good?" You emphasize your words with a few thrusts of the hips.
"Yes! Fuck. Please, more."
You smirk and speed up, the sound of your hips slapping against his thighs echoing throughout the room, accompanied by the gorgeous sounds coming out of his gaping mouth. He's writhing in pleasure and you lean into him, leaving wet, open-mouth kisses against his jaw and his neck.
"I'm close." He moans.
"I know baby, you want to come on my cock?"
He's still blushing, his eyes screwed shut and his fists tangled in the sheets, his knuckles white from the strength with which he's holding them. You wrap your fist around his length, making him look up at you and fuck, you wish you could take a picture: His hair is plastered on his forehead, his eyes are dark, his pupils blown and his lips are parted, a thin layer of sweat coating his entire body.
"You're so gorgeous, Oscar."
He closes his eyes once more and you kiss him hard, intertwining your fingers with his, holding his hand beside his head on the pillow, not slowing down your hand on his cock as you put every effort into your final thrusts, feeling his cock jump inside your fist, his orgasm quickly approaching.
"I'm going to come, baby," he whines
"Go on, come for me."
And just like that, his body goes rigid as he releases his load into your fist and all over his stomach. You stroke him through his orgasm until his entire body is jerking underneath you because of the sensitivity. You stay there for a few minutes, both breathing heavily, regaining your composure.
You finally, carefully pull out of him, making him wince a bit before unlatching the harness from your hips and lying beside him.
"Was it okay?" You ask him, your initial doubt showing up again.
He looks at you, an exhausted but blissful expression painted on his face, "It was better than okay, thank you." He says before pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head.
"Good," you mumble into his chest, "'cause we're definitely doing this again."
"I can't wait."
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