#it was so much bigger than I thought it would be like wow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 7 months

Note

Hi!! I always see fics of Charles being the one who isn’t believed he’s in a relationship (and i eat it all up cause it’s such a fun trope 😌) but what if it’s the reader’s turn. Like she’s a normal university student who always talks about her boyfriend but her friends and her fellow students just don’t believe her so Charles decides to surprise her and just be the proof. Thanks in advance!!

Daydream

Charles Leclerc x engineering student!Reader

Summary: You are living the dream … except no one actually believes that your boyfriend is really your boyfriend

You walk into class after the winter break with a sun-kissed glow and a new watch on your wrist.

Your friend Matteo notices it immediately and lets out a low whistle.

“Wow, that has to be the most realistic looking fake I’ve ever seen! Where did you get it?” He asks with a grin.

You roll your eyes but smile back. “It’s not a fake. Charles gave it to me for Christmas.”

Your friends barely give you a chance to get the last word out before they burst out laughing. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment and annoyance.

“Oh sure, I’m certain that your very real boyfriend, Charles Leclerc the Formula 1 driver, just happened to give you a €340,000 Richard Mille for Christmas,” your other friend Livia jokes.

“Come on guys, I’m serious! Charles and I have been dating for months now. We met when I was interning with Ferrari last year,” you insist.

But your friends just keep chuckling and shaking their heads in disbelief.

“If you were really dating an F1 driver, you would be posting cute couple-y pics all over Instagram. There’s no way anyone in that position could resist showing off a little,” Matteo argues.

You let out an exasperated sigh. You and Charles agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye for now to avoid media scrutiny. But your friends just see this as further proof that you’re making it all up.

“Maybe he’s embarrassed to be seen with an engineering student,” Livia quips.

That stings a bit, even though you know she doesn’t mean for it to.

You slump down in your chair, absentmindedly fiddling with the exquisite watch on your wrist. You hadn’t realized it was worth so much when Charles gave it to you. The way his eyes lit up when you unwrapped it on Christmas morning was priceless. He was so excited to spoil you in any way he could. And now your friends think it’s just a cheap fake.

Charles is always doing ridiculously romantic things like flying you out on a private jet just so you can spend any free weekends together and sending you bouquets of roses bigger than you are. But no one believes that he’s really your boyfriend. To them, it’s all just part of an elaborate scheme you’ve concocted.

You met Charles when you were one of ten engineering graduate students selected for a prestigious internship with Scuderia Ferrari. You spent six months working in Maranello, learning from some of motorsport’s brightest minds.

Charles took an interest in you immediately. He would come by your workstation in the aerodynamics lab, peppering you with thoughtful questions about your projects. You would discuss aerodynamic principles and simulations for hours. Even ex-team principal Mattia Binotto said the two of you had a visible “synergy.”

Your internship had since ended but your relationship with Charles continued. You tried to play it cool at first, not wanting to seem overly eager. The day after you went back to study in Milan, he asked you out to dinner. Your first date lasted five hours as you talked endlessly about everything under the sun. You were amazed at how you never ran out of things to discuss.

Over the next few months, you grew closer and closer. Charles would take weekend trips to Milan just to see you, even if it was only for a few hours. He told you that you grounded him and reminded him that there was more to life than racing.

When he asked you to be his girlfriend after inviting you to the Monaco Grand Prix, you were shocked but ecstatic. You knew then that your hectic schedules won’t make it easy but Charles is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He makes your heart race faster than a V12 engine.

You’re shaken from your reminiscing as Matteo waves a hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N! Come on, tell us where you got the watch. I want to get one too! It looks so identical to the real thing that we could probably sell it to some suckers on eBay.”

You shake your head with a huff. “Forget it, I’ll tell you all about my ‘fake’ boyfriend another time.”

For now, you’re just counting down the days until you can see Charles again.

No matter what anyone else may think, the two of you know that your love is real.

***

You’re humming along to your playlist as you drive Charles’ Purosangue on the winding roads leading to Milan. The SUV handles like a dream and you’re thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having 715 horsepower under your feet.

Your own trusty Fiat had broken down while visiting Charles in Monaco over the weekend. He insisted you take the Purosangue for the almost four hour drive back rather than waiting for a rental. You tried to decline at first, anxious about driving such an expensive vehicle. But Charles wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I don’t like the idea of you driving all that way alone in some random rental car,” he argued. “This will be much safer and more comfortable for you, mon amour.”

You finally relented, unable to resist when he turned on the charm. Charles gave you a lengthy tutorial of all the car’s features before sending you off with a lengthy kiss and plans for your next visit.

As you pull into the Politecnico di Milano parking lot, you realize just what a scene you’re about to cause. The other students are used to seeing you in your almost ten-year-old Fiat, not a glittering metallic Ferrari.

Sure enough, jaws drop and whispers follow you as you step out of the driver’s seat. Matteo quickly spots you from across the lot and comes jogging over eagerly.

“No way! Is that ... is that a Purosangue?” He gapes. “What are you doing with that?”

“Funny story actually. My car broke down when I was visiting Charles in Monaco last weekend. So he let me borrow this while mine is in the shop.”

Matteo stares at you blankly. “Visiting Charles ... in Monaco?” He throws his head back and laughs. “Your dedication to this bit is honestly impressive, Y/N. But there’s no way that the Charles Leclerc just gave you his Ferrari to drive back to Milan.”

You sigh but you’re determined not to let Matteo get under your skin this time. “Believe what you want. But I had an amazing weekend with my boyfriend before heading back to reality today.”

You head into class, Matteo trailing behind you, still shaking his head in disbelief. Livia immediately jumps up when she sees you.

“Shut up, is that really a Ferrari outside?” She gasps. You nod nonchalantly and take your seat.

“Y/N here is trying to convince us that her boyfriend let her borrow it over the weekend,” Matteo says with an exaggerated eye roll.

“You do realize those start at €390,000 right?” Livia says. “Why on earth would Charles Leclerc of all people let you drive his brand new ultra luxury SUV around?”

You throw your up hands in indignation. “Maybe because he’s my boyfriend and he wanted to help me out! Why is that so hard for you guys to believe?”

But instead of listening to you, other classmates join the conversation and chime in with their own theories about why you suddenly have a Ferrari.

“Maybe she rented it to play a prank on everyone,” suggests Liam.

“No way,” Eva argues. “Maybe she got a big inheritance? Some distant rich relative died and left their fortune to Y/N?”

You groan internally. But before you can respond, your professor walks in and instructs everyone to take their seats.

Through the lecture, you catch people whispering and pointing discreetly at you. By the time class ends, you just want to go home and video chat with Charles about your frustrating day.

As you pack up your things, Livia comes over. “So have you thought about what you’ll tell people when they see you getting out of that Ferrari for the foreseeable future?” She asks.

You blink at her. “The truth? That Charles loaned it to me while my car is in the shop,” you say slowly.

She pats your shoulder. “Come on Y/N, the joke was funny at first but now it’s just getting sad. No one actually believes that you’re dating Charles Leclerc and driving his cars around. Just tell us where you really got it so we can all move on from this weird fantasy life you’ve constructed.”

You stand up abruptly, shoving your notebook in your bag. “It’s not a fantasy,” you spit sharply. “It’s my real life and I’m sorry you can’t accept that. But I don’t need to convince you or anyone else.”

You storm out of the classroom, blinking back frustrated tears.

Pulling out your phone, you text Charles.

I miss you. My friends still think I’m making this all up. I can’t wait to see you in Spain next race.

Charles texts back immediately.

Not as much as I miss you. Don’t worry about what other people think, we know our love is real.

And you looked so hot driving my car 😉

You smile down at your phone, comforted by his words. You may never get your friends and classmates to believe your relationship, but as long as you and Charles know the truth, that’s all that truly matters.

Sliding back behind the wheel of the shiny Ferrari, you feel your stress melt away. Who cares what anyone thinks? You have an amazing boyfriend who trusts you with his most prized possessions. And someday when you and Charles are ready to share your love with the world, everyone’s jaws will drop in disbelief.

For now, you’ll just enjoy the ride.

***

It’s nearly time for summer break and you’re sitting outside with Matteo, Livia, and some other friends, soaking up the sunshine.

“We should all go backpacking around the Greek islands in August!” Suggests Livia. “We could start in Athens, then ferry to Mykonos, Santorini, and end in Crete. Who’s in?”

Everyone voices their enthusiasm for the idea. Then Matteo turns to you. “How about it, Y/N? Take a break from your ‘boyfriend’ and come adventuring with us common folk.”

You take a deep breath and stir your coffee, debating on how to break the news. “That sounds amazing but I already have plans for the summer.”

“Oh yeah? Going home to see your family?” Matteo asks.

You take a deep breath. “Actually, Charles and I are going on a vacation for a few weeks.”

Your friends erupt into laughter.

“A holiday? With Charles Leclerc?” Livia giggles. “Girl, your fantasies are really taking off lately!”

You frown in annoyance. “I’m serious. Charles chartered a yacht and everything. I wish you could see how excited he is for our first big trip together. He’s been planning it for months.”

Livia pats your hand gently. “Sweetie, we know you’re probably feeling financial pressure with school and all. You don’t have to lie about going off on some glamorous vacation. If you can’t afford to join us in Greece, just say so.”

You stare at her in disbelief. “This isn’t about money. Charles and I have been looking forward to this since the start of the season! I’m sorry that our relationship is still so unbelievable to you.”

Your aggravation must show on your face because Matteo holds up his hands appeasingly. “Look, I’m sure whatever you end up doing this summer will be great. But clearly this whole Charles charade has gone too far. It’s time to come clean.”

You stand up abruptly, grabbing your things. “I don’t need to come clean about anything. My relationship with Charles is real, whether you choose to believe it or not.”

You storm off fuming. Your friends’ outright refusal to even entertain the notion that you could be dating Charles is so patronizing and demeaning. Do they really think so little of you?

That night, you vent to Charles over FaceTime about the conversation.

“I just don’t get why it’s so hard for them to believe me! I know we’re not exactly a super conventional couple but it’s like they think I’m delusional,” you sigh.

Charles gives you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry they’re being like this, mon cœur. But try not to let it upset you too much. We know the truth about our love. That’s what matters.”

You nod, cheered as always by his encouragement. “You’re right. I’m just so excited for our trip! Sailing around the Mediterranean with you all to myself? It’s going to be a dream.”

Charles grins. “Oh I can’t wait either. The yacht has a hot tub on deck under the stars. I want to make sure it’s just as magical as you deserve.”

You spend the rest of the call discussing your vacation itinerary and plans for when your families will join you in Sardinia.

Charles reassures you again not to worry about what others think.

“Soon we’ll share our love with the world. But for now, let’s just focus on us,” he says softly.

By the time you hang up, your frustration has faded. Matteo and Livia may not believe you but in a few short weeks you’ll be cruising the bright blue Mediterranean with the man of your dreams.

The day finally comes for your trip to begin. As Charles helps you aboard the sleek yacht, you forget all about your friends. They don’t know him like you do. And they definitely don’t know how he kisses you goodbye at the airport or the special way his eyes light up when he says “I love you.”

This vacation will be everything you’ve been dreaming of. And you know Charles will do whatever it takes to make it unforgettable.

As the yacht pulls away from the marina, the only thing on your mind is the blissful weeks ahead with your love. Everything else fades blissfully into the background.

***

You walk with the group of engineering students through the halls of Maranello, thrilled to be back at the Ferrari factory. You did your internship here last year but walking around still feels surreal.

As you pass the simulator room, you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N! Hold on a second!”

You turn and see Gianni, one of the simulator engineers you befriended during your internship. He jogs over holding a sleek black ring.

“Charles left this after his session the other day,” he presses the familiar band into your palm. “Can you get it back to him?” Gianni asks.

You grin, turning the ring over in your hands. Charles hates taking off his Oura fitness tracker but has to for simulator runs.

“Of course, I’ll give it back to him when I’m in Monaco.”

You turn back to your friends, expecting this to be the final push they need to believe you.

But Livia just rolls her eyes. “Come on Y/N, he is obviously in on this whole charade. I bet you convinced him to play along!”

The other students nod, chuckling. Your smile disappears.

“What? No, Gianni and I really worked together when I interned here! This isn’t some weird prank,” you insist.

Matteo pats your shoulder condescendingly. “It’s alright, you don’t have to keep pretending with us. We get it, you want people to think you’re dating Charles Leclerc. But it’s getting kind of sad now.”

You clench your fists in frustration as the group moves on. Why are they being so stubborn? You clearly know people here and have a real connection to Charles.

When you pass the aerodynamics lab, your mood lifts a bit. Your favorite team leader, Fabio, is there working on computational fluid dynamics simulations.

“Y/N! So great to see you back here!” He greets you warmly and pulls you into a friendly hug.

You chat with him for a few minutes, explaining about the visit. As you say goodbye, he adds, “Tell Charles I said hi when you see him this weekend!”

But Matteo just scoffs as you walk away. “Let me guess — he’s in on it too?”

You don’t even bother responding this time, too irritated. Why should you have to convince your so-called friends of anything? You don’t owe them proof when they’re clearly set on ignoring it.

As the tour concludes, Livia pulls you aside, her expression serious.

“Look Y/N, we’re a bit worried about you. All these stories ... it just seems unhealthy. We think you should talk to someone,” she says gently.

You gape at her. “Unhealthy? Because I mentioned my boyfriend a few times on a trip to his workplace? You guys are unbelievable.”

Livia frowns. “Come on, it’s more than that and you know it. The jewelry, the car, the traveling ... it’s all an elaborate fantasy life. We just want what’s best for you.”

You feel anger bubbling up inside you. Livia reaches for your arm but you jerk away.

“You want what’s best for me? Then start believing me! I love Charles and he loves me. I don’t need therapy just because you refuse to accept the facts,” you snap.

Livia looks taken aback. You don’t wait for her response, just turn on your heel and stalk away fuming.

You pull out your phone and call Charles, needing to vent. When he picks up, the sound of his voice instantly calms you.

Charles listens patiently as you recount the horrible field trip. “I’m so sorry they’re being like this, ma belle,” he soothes. “But you handled it well. Don’t let them make you question yourself.”

You sigh. “I just wish they could see how happy you make me. I hate that our love seems so unbelievable.”

“It’s their loss for not seeing what we have,” Charles replies. “Soon everyone will realize that I only have eyes for you.”

You chat for a while longer, feeling reassured. Your friends’ doubt used to make you sad but now it mostly just angers you.

You know the truth. This weekend when you fly to Monaco and fall asleep in Charles’ arms, what Matteo and Livia think won’t matter one bit.

The only thing that matters is the love between you and Charles.

And one day, both of you will make sure the whole world knows that it’s as real as it gets.

***

It’s Friday morning and you’re stuck in your Principles of Advanced Aerodynamics lecture, anxiously watching the clock.

The Italian Grand Prix weekend starts today but your professor refused to excuse you from class early. Which means you’re missing out on precious hours with Charles before free practice later today.

You resigned yourself to not seeing him until tonight when the classroom door bursts open.

And there stands Charles, looking unfairly handsome in a Ferrari branded polo and jeans.

“Sorry to interrupt professor,” Charles flashes a charming grin. “But I’m going to need to steal Y/N away for the weekend.”

He shoots you a playful wink and your heart melts.

Your classmates erupt in excited whispers as they realize that the Charles Leclerc is standing in front of them. Your professor’s lips are moving but no discernible sound comes out.

The professor struggles to find words for a moment. “You’re ... you’re Charles Leclerc!” He stammers.

Charles smiles humbly. “Yes sir. And as I’m sure you know, the free practice for the Italian Grand Prix starts today. I’ll need to have my good luck charm there with from the very start.”

He extends his hand to you.

You grab your bag, legs wobbling as you make your way to the front. Charles wraps a supportive arm around your waist.

“You see professor, Y/N is my biggest supporter. My results improve dramatically when she’s present. So surely any Ferrari fan would agree that she must be trackside all weekend?” Charles urges charmingly.

The professor nods mutely before seeming to find his voice again. “Yes, of course! We certainly want the best results for Ferrari here at home. Y/N, you’re excused for the day. If you give me just a moment ...” He rummages through his bag with shaking hands and pulls out a Ferrari phone case.

“Would you mind?” He asks sheepishly.

“Not at all,” Charles smiles, taking the case and scrawling his signature across it with a provided permanent marker.

Your professor looks ready to faint. “Thank you so much. Enjoy the race weekend. Forza Ferrari, sempre!”

Trying not to laugh, you quickly gather up the rest of your things. Your friends watch wide-eyed as Charles takes your hand.

“Ready, mon amour?” He asks.

When you nod, he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you passionately in front of the entire class.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You cling to him, dizzy from the kiss. “Not as much as I missed you. I can’t believe you came here just to pick me up.”

Charles caresses your cheek. “I’ll always come for you. Now let’s get going to Monza. I want to show you how much I appreciated your good luck texts before practice.”

He keeps your hand clasped firmly in his as you make your way outside. When you glance back through the windows, your classmates are still staring after you in stunned disbelief.

Once you’re in the familiar 488 Pista, you finally let out the laugh you’ve been suppressing. “Did you see the looks on everyone’s faces? I thought Professor Mancini was actually going to faint.”

Charles grins. “I know dramatic gestures aren’t usually my style but I wanted them to see once and for all that you’re mine.”

He lifts your intertwined hands to his lips. “No more doubting our love after today. And I meant what I said — you’re my good luck charm, Y/N. Having you here this weekend means everything.”

You smile up at him softly. “I’m just happy I can be here to support you.”

He kisses you deeply, still parked outside of the Politecnico, not caring who sees. And you know without a doubt that this amazing man and your once-in-a-lifetime romance are completely real.

The rest of the day flies by in a blur of excitement. In between practice sessions, Charles takes any chance he can to steal moments alone with you in his driver’s room.

His tender kisses and whispered reminders of his love send your heart racing faster than an F1 car.

***

It’s race day in Monza and you’re walking through the paddock hand-in-hand with Charles. His physio and press officer trail behind you both as Charles waves to the cheering Tifosi in the stands.

Suddenly, you hear voices calling your name.

You look over to see Matteo and Livia leaning over the fence, trying to get your attention.

“Y/N! We’re so sorry we didn’t believe you!” Livia shouts.

“Please come talk to us!” Yells Matteo. “We feel awful about everything!”

You stop short, conflicting emotions swirling through you. Charles senses your hesitation and squeezes your hand supportively.

“What do you want to do, mon cœur?” He asks. “I can try to get them paddock passes last minute if you want to talk.”

You bite your lip. Part of you wants them to witness first-hand the depth of your relationship with Charles. To show them just how wrong they were to mock and belittle your love.

But another part of you is still hurt by their stubborn refusal to believe you all this time. Do they really deserve VIP paddock access after the way they treated you?

“I don’t know, Charles ... they were so patronizing about our relationship for so long. I’m not sure they deserve the reward of paddock access after demeaning my feelings,” you reply.

Charles nods thoughtfully. “I understand. It’s completely up to you, of course. But it could be nice for them to see up close just how real our love is. Watching us together will help it finally sink in.”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips. Charles does make an appealing case ...

“Alright, I can’t say no to that adorable face,” you laugh and kiss his cheek. “But maybe keep them waiting a bit first as payback!”

Charles grins mischievously. “I think that can be arranged.” He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, dipping you backwards dramatically.

The crowd erupts in cheers and whistles, a wild and beautiful sea of Rosso Corsa.

When you come up for air, you see your friends watching open-mouthed from the stands. Charles winks at them over your shoulder before leading you away, his arm curled firmly around your waist.

Several hours later, Matteo and Livia finally receive their paddock passes. They rush over to you right away, profusely apologizing again.

“Seeing you and Charles together in class was unbelievable, but this ...” Matteo trails off, darting around at the bustling paddock with wide eyes. “You really are dating an F1 driver!”

You exchange an amused look with Charles. “Yes, that is what I’ve been trying to tell you for many months now,” you laugh.

Livia hugs you tightly. “I’m so sorry for ever doubting you. But after today, we’ll never question your relationship again.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I hope after witnessing our love up close, you will see there is nothing Y/N wouldn’t do for me, just as I would do the same for her.” He gazes down at you tenderly and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You and Charles both laugh as your friends turn red. “We’re really happy for you two,” mumbles Matteo. “Hopefully we can all start over now.”

Charles smiles kindly. “Of course! Y/N’s happiness is what matters most to me and I know how important her friends are to her.”

You feel yourself falling even more in love with this man and his endless patience and compassion.

The race keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. When Charles takes the top step on the podium, you and your friends scream loudly enough to be heard in Milan.

That night at the celebration, Charles gives a sweet toast about how your love inspires him.

Matteo and Livia watch with tears in their eyes.

“Wow, when you said your boyfriend was romantic, you really meant it,” Livia whispers.

“I told you, Charles is one-of-a-kind. I’m so lucky to be his and to be loved by him.”

Charles comes over and pulls you into his arms, nuzzling your hair. “I’m the lucky one, mon ange.”

He stops and takes both of your hands, gazing into your eyes intently. “I never want you to doubt what we have, Y/N. You are everything to me. My whole world.”

Matteo shakes his head in wonder as he takes in the pure love clearly shining in both of your eyes. “We’re so sorry we ever doubted that what you have is real. Seeing you together, it’s obvious your love is straight out of a fairytale.”

You grin up at Charles, your heart overflowing. With his kisses still lingering on your lips and surrounded by friends who finally believe, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Now everyone can see your love just as clearly as the two of you always have.

***

Today is the day you’ve been working towards for years — your graduation from the Politecnico di Milano with your Laurea Magistrale in Aeronautical Engineering.

The auditorium is packed with proud families as you line up with your classmates, dressed in formal robes and caps. Charles insisted on coming, despite it being right before the start of a triple header. And having him here means the world to you.

When your name is called, you grin widely as Charles’ cheers rise above the polite applause of the audience. He gives you a standing ovation, not caring that he is blocking everyone’s view.

His pride and support brings happy tears to your eyes. You blow him a discreet kiss and see him pretend to catch it, pressing his hand to his heart.

After the ceremony ends, you rush straight into Charles’ arms. He swings you around then kisses you deeply. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour! All of your hard work has paid off.”

You hug him tight, overwhelmed with emotions. “Having you here today, supporting me every step ... it’s the best gift I could ask for.”

Charles strokes your hair tenderly. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. But I do have one more surprise ...”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope with the unmistakable Ferrari seal.

Handing it to you, Charles bounces excitedly on his toes. “Go on, open it!”

With shaking hands, you open the letter and read the words offering you a position as a Junior Aerodynamics Engineer with Scuderia Ferrari.

“Charles, what ... how ...” you stammer in shock.

He smiles widely. “Enrico Cardile was very impressed with the work you did during your internship as well as your thesis.”

You continue staring at the letter. “But I don’t want special treatment just because I’m your girlfriend. I want to earn a position at Ferrari on my own merits,” you say uncertainly.

Charles grasps your hands. “Mon ange, you know I would never influence the team’s decisions. They want you because of your skills, not our relationship. I only asked if I could deliver the news as a graduation gift when I found out.”

You bite your lip. “It’s just ... I don’t want anyone thinking that I didn’t earn this.”

“Listen to me,” Charles quickly gets serious. “You are the most talented, driven, and intelligent person I know. You’ve worked relentlessly for this and Ferrari recognizes that. Please don’t doubt for one second that you deserve this.”

His sincere words dissolve your concerns. He’s right — you interned successfully with the team already. You can do this.

You throw your arms around him again. “Then I accept the offer! I’m going to be a Formula 1 aerodynamicist!”

“You will be incredible, Y/N. I can’t wait to see you thriving there. You’re going to change the world with that beautiful mind of yours.”

You cling to him, overwhelmed with emotions. “I couldn’t have done any of this without your love and support. You gave me the strength to keep pursuing my dreams.”

Charles tips your forehead to his, eyes shining. “And you gave me the gift of true love. My life is so much richer with you in it.”

He kisses you until you’re both smiling too widely to continue. Taking his hand, you turn to look out at the gathered families, classmates, and professors mingling around.

Just months ago, no one believed your relationship with Charles was real. But here you stand, ready to take on the world together.

Your storybook romance has grown into an unshakable partnership.

As Charles squeezes your hand, you know that the next chapter of your lives will be even better. You can’t wait to build your future with this amazing man — both on and off the track.

***

10 years later

You take a deep breath as you walk into the familiar lecture hall at the Politecnico di Milano. Looking out at the eager young students, you remember sitting in their place not so long ago. Back when you were just starting your engineering studies, never dreaming you would one day return as a guest lecturer.

Charles insisted on coming with you today and you scan the room until you spot him sitting inconspicuously in the back row, trying his hardest not to draw attention to himself. He gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

“Good morning, everyone. For those who don’t know me, I am Y/N Leclerc — Head of Aero Development at Scuderia Ferrari and former student right here at Polimi.”

As you start your lecture on the aerodynamic theory behind Ferrari’s latest championship-winning car, you easily slip back into the familiar rhythms of university life.

Discussing complex simulations and wind tunnel testing with these eager minds reminds you of the days you were in their shoes.

You can hardly believe it’s been 10 years since you sat in this very room, never imagining the incredible journey ahead.

After joining Ferrari, you and Charles found ways to balance your personal and professional lives through compassion and communication.

Winning your first World Championship together was a euphoric blur of champagne and ecstatic team celebrations. Being the first female Director of Aerodynamics in Formula 1 was daunting but Charles never stopped believing in you.

When he got down on one knee after winning in Monza and asked you to be his wife, it was one of the happiest moments of your life. Planning a wedding while chasing championships was no easy feat but your passion for racing and each other kept you going.

Now, five championships later, you’ve settled into a blissful rhythm as partners both on and off the track. There were tough times and painful losses but coming home to each other’s arms helped erase the remnants of any bad day.

As you wrap up the lecture and open the floor to questions, a female student raises her hand. “As a woman working in F1, what’s the best advice you can give aspiring engineers like me?”

You smile, thinking back on your own self-doubts starting out. “Don’t be afraid to take up space and make your voice heard,” you tell her. “Formula 1 needs more brilliant women like you. If you love the science and the cars, pursue this career fiercely no matter what anyone says.”

The student thanks you excitedly and you make a mental note to talk to Charles about establishing an engineering scholarship for female students.

After the lecture finishes, Charles comes up to greet you with a tender kiss. “You were incredible up there. I’m so proud to call you my wife.”

You kiss him back, still just as dizzyingly in love as that first date all those years ago. “I couldn’t have done it without my biggest cheerleader here supporting me.”

As you walk hand-in-hand back to the car, you think about how far you’ve come together.

A storybook romance, successful careers, and most importantly, an unbreakable partnership built on love and trust.

When Charles said your love would overcome any doubt, you never imagined how right he would be.

But now, as the Italian sunlight glints off your matching wedding bands, you know the best is still yet to come.

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astrologylunadream · 3 months

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How They Want to Please You [SPICY] 💌🌹🫦 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream~💋 This is a reading on your person and how exactly they would want to please you and their approach to that!!🤭❤️‍🔥 hope you find your message💌

(This is a spicy reading🔥 Some piles more intense than others)

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~❤️

Pile 1💋

Pile 2🔗

Pile 3❤️

Pile 4🍒

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> ❤️‍🔥

Pile 1💋

Sign energy: Long, Threat, Marriage, Therapy, Stress, Jupiter, Libra, 8th house, Cancer, 3rd house,👈🧱🤴🤒

👤Your person's energy: Okay for some reason I was getting indirect Taurus energy but anyways your person VERY good at communication, omg they may take part in long discussions and like drawn out conversations or hypothetical stuff.. or simply just talk alot LOL💬😂 For signs we have Sagittarius, Pisces, Libra, Scorpio, Cancer and Gemini wow those may be significant. Some of my pile 1's are very attracted to the way this person talks.🗣🥰🩷 I'm getting that your person may always feel like they need someone to listen to them because my pile 1's your person has a lot of stress omg they need to let it out😭 Talking with others may feel like true therapy to them, they feel better when they have someone to talk to🥺💕 For some of you this person has long legs or even bigger features, something is definitely long about them.🙈😈 I'm also hearing "why the long face?" So maybe your person has a worried look washed upon their face, oh this could be because their stress.😟💧 Some of you are in a committed relationship to this person or you see them as marriage material.💍✔️ It is hard for your person to open up to just anyone on a deeper level, they may have been in bad relationships before or over shared themselves. This person might have even cut out romantic connections entirely.✋️✂️ Specific message for someone in pile 2 they could have a lot of siblings, I definitely feel your person knows many people or someone could be a therapist. They could have an ex still obsessed with them maybe they're your ex, divorce or break ups may be significant to your person. They do have a magnetic way about them, like I feel like them as a spouse would be so HOT😳 I'm hearing "trophy wife/husband" lol that is what they are like or would be like.🏆✨️ You guys may be a bit obsessed with this person, some of you don't wanna wait for Intimacy after marriage.🙈❤️‍🔥

🌹How they wanna please you: Self love, Fluff, Skill, Inner thoughts, Fairytale, Libra, Eros, Uranus, North node, Capricorn, 🏩😎🌹🐈 My pile 1's your person is so sweet and so naughty at the same time😭😭 First and foremost they want you to be happy and love your life omg they wanna make you feel like you're in a fairytale🥺💖 They also want to make you feel pretty and love yourself just as much as they do. There are so many things they wanna try with you pile 1!! They are literally thinking about a SOLID future with you, they want to provide and pleasure you and give you the love you deserve omfg this is too much💓🪽🥹 They have thoughts of your thing, if you know what I mean🙈🥵 They want to know your body well do everything right with you, like they want to be an expert at it. They may want to experiment a lot with you to see exactly what you like and what pleases you the most.🔥😈😭 Your person is kinky, They also want to use their fingers inside WTF they think about exactly how turn you on. They want you to think good about yourself and feel beautiful with them. Also taking you to a motel so you guys enjoy your time alone and be as unusual as you want?!🏩 Going hard on your 🍑 If you want it🥵 They also want to give you something to see, like doing things to themselves for you. OH MY pile 1 your person would do anything🫣💦 Your person is big on pleasing you visually, but not just with themselves but with everything. Like taking you to beautiful scenery and giving you flowers in hopes that you're just as pleased with that as you are with them✨️💐💗 They just really wanna turn you on and for you to be so happy with them, some of you may be very impressed how much they know what you like. I mean seriously this person thinks pile 1 is so lovely and attractive🥺 They want to please you at the highest level and just make you feel so in love and treated well😭💝

💌Messages from your person: It's okay to have high standards, I hear you, I wish I could, I think you're a great person, Your secrets safe with me, Your first love, What are your biggest fantasies? Put your hand on mine. (So sweet🥰🩷) Extra cards: Pisces, Focus, Up, Store, Abandonment, Gemini, Saturn, Uranus, Libra, 10th house

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the kiss emoji~💋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Pile 2🔗

Sign energy: Attraction, Sensitivity, Important, Only one, Mystery, Chiron, Aquarius, 3rd house, 5th house, 1st house,🖇♀️💼🥳

👤Your person's energy: This is someone very special, you may see them as one of a kind✨️ My pile 2's are attracted to this person and you want to connect with them and have sweet conversations with them😭💓 Signs could be Aquarius, Gemini, Leo or Aries in their chart. Your person has a soft feminine vibe to them (no matter the gender) They may talk in a gentle way. They may have a hobby unknown to you or they hide it, they could be interested in career/hobbies related to entertainment, artist, creator, or music.🎨 I'm getting anonymous vibes from your person, for some in pile 1 they have a secret channel or social media account they share their work on. Now your person may get hurt a lot on accident, they are very sensitive to injuries.😢🩹 Maybe they have a noticable scar for some of you? You feel very connected to this person, like they are your twin flame kinda thing.❤️‍🔥 They work for fun I'm hearing, or start a lot of fun little projects for themselves. They are very creative and sweet, I am getting gentle artistic energy. This could be a close friend for some of you, or a friendly connection between you both. This person may feel like the only one you can talk to like a best friend. They play a big role in your life, they also may be someone important online.📱✨️ They are very fun at parties, I think their sweet and charming nature makes them very attractive to you. This person has such lovely features and gestures!!🥺💖 They also have a senstive side to them, that may have been what attracted you to them as well. You have no idea how they have such a beautiful aura to them lol🥰🩷

🌹How they wanna please you: Pride, Competition, Long, Truth, Decor, Cancer, Water, 9th house, Venus, 1st house, 🗞👑💐🛎 Okay so acts of service may be something your person wants to do for you💓 They want to please you by doing sweet little things for you, this might be the most innocent pile omg it's just so cute🥹💓💕 They want you to make you feel cared for and take pride in yourself! So your person is a bit competitive about pleasing you, maybe there is a situation where they aren't the only one who's out to please pile 2 right now OMG for some of you this person is very defensive over being the only one that pleases you and the best at it. (This makes them so emotional😭❤️) Also taking you on a long trip with them somewhere beautiful ooh and I'm seeing somewhere near water so maybe they're wanting to take you on a vacation somewhere by a body of water so like lakes, rivers or the ocean.🌊🧭💘 They want to please you aesthetically most importantly, making sure your surroundings and over all environment is nice and beautiful enough for my pile 2's🥺💗 I'm getting they definitely wanna win your heart, also flowers!! This is so sweet, they would want to please you by giving you roses and pretty lovely bouquets to express just how genuine their feelings are for you guys omg.. I feel like if you come over to this person's space they will decorate it very beautifully for you to see, like they take pride in their decorating skills I'm hearing.🌸🛍✨️ Also with their appearance, they wish to look amazing for your eyes to see. I can see them wanting to restrain themselves for your pleasure.🫣 They want to serve you in any way they can, that may be something they wish to please you with, lol for some this person wants to clean for you like help with whatever's on your to do list so you can just sit back and be spoiled by them.👑😩💓 This person is head over heels for our lovely pile 2🥰 They want to hold you. I am hearing they truly care for you, they want you to feel comfy and pretty with your surroundings. Ahh pile 2 your person is such ring material LOL.💍

💌Messages from your person: Let me adore you, Focus on us, If I had you, This is madness, It's not what it looks like, I wish I could control it, We will find eachother again, I want to spend my life with you (AHH PILE 2 🥳🤧❤️) Extra cards: Situation, Competition, Fantasy, Worthy, Options, Earth, Jupiter, Sagittarius, 2nd house, Aquarius (Ohh so your person want's to be worthy to compete for your love and for some in this pile they may be a second option for you right now!!)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the chain emoji~🔗 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Pile 3❤️

Sign energy: Synchrony, Respect, Diamond, Peace, Flirt, Aries, 3rd house, 10th house, Pluto, Sun,🕳❤️🎨🔙

👤Your person's energy: Okay so there is a masculine energy for this pile's person, very powerful aura about them✨️😎 Prominent energies for them are Aries, Gemini, Capricorn, Scorpio or Leo. The way this person speaks may stand out to you, because they are smooth with their words. For some of you this person is so good at flirting it's scary😳🥵 They can win anyone over with just their words I'm hearing, they have such a magnetic way about them omg🔥🧲 They can make people obsessed with them easily, their public image is seen as something rare. People view your person as sensually attractive. I think they are more playful with the people they know, but when they're interacting with acquaintances they can be very intimidating yet very hot.🤯 They have a bold energy to them, people immediately feel like they should respect or admire them in some way.✨️ Maybe you see yourself in this person, you may share similar views. People fall for your person's charms so quick, there is a deep love and admiration for their self worth. Your person is creative and very interesting in most conversations, they keep things interesting.💬🎉 They could have a deep voice, or a pleasing one that draws you in. They could also be in shape or bigger than you in appearance or vibe. Your person may own accessories made of jems or diamonds📿⌚️ This is a random message but you two would be very physically compatible?!🙈🔥 Yeah this person can draw you in deep and they just say one word and it turns you on LOL😭 Many of my pile 3's are in love with this person, I mean on another level. They are quick witted, I'm also hearing fast reflexes for this person. They shine like a jewel in their productivity or work, I mean they can be really smooth and calm like talking in a low voice but then when they're passionate about something they will consume it😳

🌹How they wanna please you: Pain, Big, Lay down, 11th house, Early, Lilith, Chiron, Cancer, Jupiter, Capricorn,🪫🌧🗒🔱 Omfg pile 3 your person is something else😭 They wanna please you in the most intense way you can handle, I'm hearing they want to drown you in pleasure until it drains you both completely...🪫🥵 They want to be so naughty with you, like filling out EVERY one of your kinks. They want to force you down if it's what works, laying you down and going hard on you💦🥵🥵 They have big fantasies about you and wanna achieve all of yours too. Like I'm not kidding I feel like they literally have a to do list of everything they want to please you with WTF🤯🫣 You bring out a different side of them for real. They would dominate you if it brings you pleasure. They want to record a lot of videos of you two, especially the times they can please you the most. They want to give you pain if it pleases you, but they will also match your intensity and be gentle if they need to.🥺❤️ They want to lay you down and let it out aggressively or just simply cuddle with you, whatever they can do to fullfill your fantasies. They want to make it rain and that's all I'll say.😳 (they could also wish to spend a lot of money on you). They want to give you lots of aftercare and heal you emotionally or physically any way they can. I'm seeing a lot of duality with this person, they could really please you in different ways. They want to comfort you and make you feel safe, but also please you like really hard😈 My pile 3's your person is so naughty for you😭😭 They want grinding and restraining, that's something they think would give you pleasure too. Their dark side really comes out for you guys wtf, I think you heal eachother's issues in some way😢🩹 I can see them wanting to post all about you on their social media, not the bad stuff but just cute photos of you. They save the bad ones for themselves🥵 Wow this pile got crazy also your person wants to suck on your skin (😳) or piercing sensations if that pleases you. Also they want to give you the best one you've ever experienced🔞💭 I'M ENDING IT THERE

💌Messages from your person: I've been so busy, I love us, I know you like me, You're the one that I want, When you look at me like that, Your eyes are beautiful, You have so much worth, Why can't you see? (OMG I'm flipping out that is so sweet😭😍⁉️) Extra cards: Down, Found, Siblings, Cherish, Maze, Juno, Pisces, Chiron, Mercury, 7th house (Your person loves the way you communicate btw they really see you as a straight up soulmate🙈❤️)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the red heart emoji~❤️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Pile 4🍒

Sign energy: Right, Museum, Surrender, Reserved, Less, 11th house, Leo, Taurus, Earth, Jupiter,🆘️💁‍♂️💀⛓️

👤Your person's energy: Wow okay so this person is pretty straight forward I'm getting, they may communicate with others online a lot.📱💬 They have a unique look about them.✨️ Something is coming through, they had a bit of an ego death in the past so they became less self-assured or confident in themselves. They are good at making a community for themselves. Prominent sign energies are Aquarius, Leo, Taurus, Sagittarius or Earth signs (Capricorn, Taurus, Virgo) oh and Pisces too. Museums may be significant, also this person may work at in art gallery for someone in pile 4 haha.♥️ I think this person spends too much time online or involved in charity work, they don't speak up their own opinions much I'm hearing.💭🚫 They may change their hair often or they got a hairstyle in the past that significantly changed their whole vibe lol. They have online friends that may not be out for their best interest, I feel like they're kinda on display for everyone to see and pick apart.🥺😡 Maybe your person has some opinions that the people around them don't agree with, that could be why they learned to keep it to themselves and go along with everyone.😭🐑 Their self-expression has been somewhat locked away because don't want to be criticized by others.🔒 I think your person is an out of the box thinker, so they have some unconventional ideas.💡❤️ I don't think they're very self confident, or they have lost that over time. They are in a sort of repressed energy, like they have no freedom for themselves. I'm hearing "stopped being honest" omg maybe they gave up on sharing their opinions🤯 Some of you are at a long distance from this person, maybe you reach from online. Pile 4 your person needs saving omg they are around a lot of toxic people😥☣️

🌹How they wanna please you: Competition, Equality, Work place, Let go, Song, Water, 11th house, 9th house, 3rd house, Capricorn, 🍑🪐🧎‍♂️📸 Ahh okay🙈😍 Now I'm definitely getting a vibe that for some in this pile, this is a friend or they want to be friends with you. They want to get up to your level in order to please you, maybe they feel unworthy or unequal to you in some way😢💔 I can see them wanting to make a playlist for you to please you🤭🎼 They want to achieve success for you, aww like they want to be admirable to you. I'm getting this person could be younger than you a bit, or they just feel like you're superior to them in some way.🏆👑 I am getting similar vibes to pile 2 in terms of their sweet yet competitive approach towards you guys, this person is really emotional over winning you over. Maybe you have many friends and they feel insignificant to you.😰 They really want to rid of the toxic people around them in order to please you, like no gossip or anything.✋️❌️ They may want a healthy circle of friends to be associated with, because they feel like the people around them are ruining their image to you.🥺 Now they want to put in the extra work for you. Probably learn from word of mouth exactly what pleases you, asking your friends or coworkers what you like/dislike. They want to please you spontaneously, like a big surprise. This could be getting you alone and surprising you with a kiss!🥰 They want to please you in that way, also if they could go hard on your 🍑 if you know what I mean😈❤️‍🔥 They would want to use their hands to please you, and grabbing you there. Restraining you or getting you on your knees if you feel good from it.🥵 They may also want to send you photos of them, maybe of their 🍑??😂 Lol they would try anything weird or crazy if you asked them to, because they want to please you and see what works. Aww they want to make you smile and take photos of you like that.😁 They also want to travel with you, maybe taking you to higher places.🗻❤️ They would wanna give you kisses and your thighs/hands💋 I'm seeing they're on their knees for you omg. I could see them writing you a song and sending it to you out of nowhere like "hey I wrote u a song :)" Lol so cute, I can also see them wanting to so all the fun things you need a best friend for.🥺💖 Like they are down to be like a friend to you if you need that, and if you need a good partner? They can do that to.😏❤️‍🔥 I can see them wanting to grab your thigh and push your legs apart too...😳🥵

💌Messages from your person: Your laugh is contagious, You have no idea, Anything for you, Can't you see? Believe me, It's me or them, We are one, You're not interested in anyone right? (Ohh they are competitive over you🤭❤️) Extra cards: Siblings, Intuition, Prove, Over, Bad habit, Jupiter, Saturn, Pisces, 7th house, 2nd house (They also want to provide for you like buying you nice things and committing to this relationship🥺💋)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the cherry emoji~🍒 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"

and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?

That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."

And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?

We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.

Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.

Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!

I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.

I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!

I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.

There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.

A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?

I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.

You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.

Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"

We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.

As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"

#nature #community #plants #gardening #you are not separate from every other thing #the wonders #caretaking #plantarchy

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 months

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Of All Things, I Became an Aranara

You always imagined that if you woke up in the world of Genshin, the possibilities of being a Visionless wielder of elements and a slew of romantic shenanigans would lie in your wake. But when you instead find yourself in the body of an Aranara with romance likely out of the question, your only conclusion is that the gods of reincarnation isekai hate your guts.

cw. you're an aranara

pairing. scaramouche/wanderer x reader, cyno x reader, kaveh x reader, candace x reader (separate)

notes. don't feel like being an aranara today? well go ahead and go to the series masterlist and see what your life could be if you were something else in genshin.

While you would have preferred being human, you have to admit there are few things better than turning into an Aranara. You've most assuredly been given Genshin non-humanoid pretty privilege with beautiful powers concerning plants and dreams to boot.

An even bigger benefit is that you can talk, so communicating with humans in this world will be a cinch.

The only thing you can really complain about now is that you aren't really able to handle salt and spices the way you used to. But to be honest, if that's the only thing you have to complain about, you'll gladly settle with being one of the musically-inclined leaf children of the rainforest.

All of whom are your friends despite the predicament you've found yourself in. You may have technically lost the isekai 50/50 but you feel like you've won in a lot of ways too.

Scaramouche

Ironically enough he was one of the easiest individuals on the list to befriend. Why? You met him when his memories were completely reset to zero and he had a much more sweet and calm demeanor

Considering the sharp-tongue Scaramouche you're used to, it honestly gave you whiplash

Still, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the guy, bright eyed and full of wonder. It was the constant abandonments and perceived abandonments that turned Scara into the person he came

You accompany him when he regains his memories, after which he assumes that now you know the extent of his true character and the things he's done that you'll leave him now. he even encourages you to do so, shooing you away

you plopping your small self across his shoulder and telling him he's your best friend means a lot to him, even if he tells you in response that you're an idiot but you can do as you wish

Before and after regaining his memories, Scara is very clingy. Before regaining them, he slept with you nestled to his chest much like a child would a teddy bear. Afterwards, he considers it too soft and embarrassing to do so but if you snuggle up against him well, he won't stop you

Once you got lost while exploring and when you didn't come back within the time he expected you to, he grew quite panicked and nearly turned the entire forest upside down trying to find you

When he did, you were promptly scolded for making him have to look for you. What's the matter with you? Don't go traveling somewhere unfamiliar or you'll just make him have to waste time backtracking to look for you

(He was scared that you had gotten eaten or hurt or worse, that you decided to no longer travel with him, leaving him to be alone all over again)

Whenever he has nightmares, you turn his dreams into ones much happier. He tells you to stay out of his head but he appreciates the fanciful worlds you craft for him

You're also quite handy when he needs to avoid his new fanbase from the Akademiya. Taking him to the dream world to avoid talking to people is quite a useful trick of yours

But as it turns out, Scaramouche is quite popular with the Aranara and they all love to indulge him. So you kinda have some competition

You can't believe you're actually getting jealous of Aranaras. Wow, how the mighty have fallen

Cyno

A son of the desert who grew up in the rainforest, Cyno heard of stories regarding the Aranara but he never thought they'd be real. But as far as he is concerned, you're as much a citizen of Sumeru as he is

So Cyno quickly rolls with the punches and treats you accordingly with respect. Talk about a win!

But as far as you being a travel companion? Cyno isn't entirely sure since his work concerns apprehending wayward scholars and their affiliates. It's dangerous, so unless you can prove yourself to be sturdy enough to protect yourself, he'll tell discourage you from following him

Of course, he can't rightly force a creature of Dendro and dreams from doing that anyway if you stubbornly continue on with him

Thankfully, you can set his worries aside when you show not only are you adorable, but resourceful, using your powers of Dendro to apprehend criminals attempting to flee the scene when Cyno arrives (all while staying hidden in the realm of dreams. You're not trying to put a target on the back of every Aranara after all)

That aside, you don't really have any troubles with Cyno. When he rests by campfire, he will make sure you stay a comfortable distance from the flames and will teach you about GI TCG and will even tell you a joke or two (or three)

Cyno is a reliable companion. He'll protect you if you are under his protection but he doesn't make you feel less than because you're not human either

But when he isn't in work mode, he is very sweet and even let's you wear his headdress from time to time as long as you are careful with it. In return you place flower crowns atop his head

Is another protective companion. As one brought from the desert to the rainforest for the sake of experiments, Cyno knows what could happen should those at the Akademiya find out that Aranaras are more than just a tale for children

So he always makes sure you aren't sighted by those he cannot trust

Kaveh

Meeting Kaveh was a bit of an accident as you had to help disentangle from a mess of vines

For someone blessed with the power of Dendro, he isn't really one who naturally has an affinity for plants

As such, he is embarrassed when you find him in this situation. Embarrassed and quite amazed to find out that Aranara aren't just stories. One getting him out of a mess like this isn't really how Kaveh ever imagined meeting one back when he was a child

That aside, Kaveh straightens himself out, thanks you and honestly he tries to be polite about it but he has plenty of questions about your being an Aranara that you can't really answer outside of lore you got from the game

You tell him that you'll look out for him when he is prancing about the rainforest so he can avoid these sorts of mishaps in the future which he insists is unnecessary

But you're not trying to be stuck living in nature forever, you want to make sure you have guaranteed safety. It also helps that if you're going to attach yourself to a human in the game, they aren't just some random NPC. A player character comes with a certain level of stability you appreciate

Kaveh's too good an opportunity to pass up and Mehrak is quite cute too. Win-win situation

Out of everyone here though sadly, Kaveh treats you most like a pet. Something no one wants to get from a hot guy even if you understand why he treats you so

At least he gives you plenty of sweets to eat?

You become a surprising point of comfort for Kaveh when he grows frustrated with his roommate. You tend to use your powers of Dendro to weave flowers through his hair during those moments and listen when he vents

You think his kindness does him more harm than good and that he tends to be his worst critic, so you tell Kaveh to be kinder to himself

Candace

A desert really isn't the place for an Aranara but you stubbornly decided to try your luck at it anyway against your better judgement (and the advice of your fellow Aranara)

But a couple of near death experiences aside, you think you made a good decision when you get to Aaru Village. The children there are very sweet and fascinated by you, having never seen an Aranara themselves

So you become quite popular among them, making them all sweet dreams and becoming a sort of... Guardian, one might say

You also help maintain the few plantlife of Aaru Village from Sabbah's flowers to the ajilenakh trees

It isn't much work but it's honest work

Candace thought nothing of it, thinking it was cute for the children of the village to have something to talk about

Then she ran into you trying (and failing) to get some food from the storage and that is how you were discovered by the actual Guardian of Aaru Village

Despite that little mishap, Candace is sweet to you and presents to you the same rules she gives all guests of Aaru. She also appreciates you helping with the children

So she doesn't disagree when you label yourselves as a sort of duo protecting everyone in different ways

Candace seldom has time to rest or enjoy any sort of personal time, so you try to be her invisible company in the day and you pester her to take breaks

You'd threaten to keep her contained in vines to make her take a break but you know she is infinitely stronger than your own abilities

How else can she fight monsters for hours at a time without tiring?

Still if you're at that level of desperate to make her rest, Candace promises to take more breaks along the day and rely more on her fellow guards

#look she's writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kaveh x reader #candace x reader #cyno x reader

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hopesworlld · 3 months

Text

౨ৎ oh ! dear diary, i met a boy !

౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — step!bro anakin x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — your stepbrother anakin finds your diary full of all your dirty little secrets

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 6k

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, stepcest, smut ( masturbation f and m, oral sex f and m, vibrator, degradation, praise, use of the term slut/little slut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, overstimulation ) i think that’s all !

౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — someone call the psych ward immediately !

part two part three masterlist

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anakin groaned in annoyance as he stormed up the steps at his mothers command asking him to fetch his stepsister for some reason or another. he barged into your bedroom not bothering to knock, he always liked seeing you jump, sometimes you were on your bed, phone dropping from your hands as your lips parted in surprise. other times you were perched at your vanity catching his eye in the mirror with horrified delight. but his favourite would always be when he entered your room to find you clad in nothing but a pair of white panties. your face had been painted crimson, eyes clutching your breasts but he could still see your rosy nipples peeking beneath your manicured nails, pert from the cold winter air.

but this time, much to his disappointment he found the room empty, your fairlights glittered along the ceiling and the pink lamp beside your bed cast light on the little book had seen you clutching to your chest every so often, it was hot pink and dotted with stickers of various celebrities that he despised. you had always been protective of it, even your father had once gained a slap to the hand when he tried to touch your book. so anakin knew he had no choice, he slowly entered the room further, noting the sound of rushing water from the bathroom. perfect.

he crossed your room in a matter of seconds and scooped up the book, flicking through a couple pages, the first few he saw held nothing of interest and he skimmed through. there were no dates but he could tell they were from before your father and shmi had bought the house and blended your family, he read a few sentences of you complaining about school, and friend drama and almost called it a bust. his innocent priss of a stepsister was the same in her diary as she was every day. that was until he skipped ahead and found his name appearing. with new found interest he settled down on your bed.

/ anakin came back from college today and he actually looked happy to see me, or he smiled when he got out of the car which is a first. i wish he would smile more, he looks so pretty when he smiles.

anakin scoffed at this, rolling his eyes, this had only been a few weeks ago and he had been laughing at a text just moments before, but of course you would think he was happy to see you. you always greeted him the same, glossy lips twisted in a saccharine smile as you bounced on the balls of your feet, begging for an ounce of attention from him. it was ridiculous, but he had to know more.

/ anakin is fixing up dad’s old car in the driveway so that he can use it, i’ve never been so happy for my father’s hoarding tendencies in my life. i was sat at my window for two hours today watching him. he was wearing that black wife beater, the one that makes his arms look even bigger than usual, so muscly and strong. i wonder what it would feel like for him to pick me up, and feel his muscles against my back, they look so good when they’re tensed. he was so sweaty too, i wanted to run out there and lick it from his skin, how disgusting but wow, i wish i took a picture of him like that. soaked in sweat and oil.

anakin’s jaw was agape, his sweet innocent stepsister wasn’t such an angel as he once thought. his dick twitched beneath his sweatpants at the thought of you perched on your window seat with a perfect view of him working rubbing your thighs together, desperate for his touch, his taste. it was taboo, disgusting, your parents were married and here you were writing dirty little fantasies. he loved it. addicted to the words you had spilled across the page in pretty gel pens.

/ dad asked me why i was so distracted today at dinner, how could i not be? anakin came down in just shorts and i swear i could see everything, he’s bigger than i imagined, i probably wouldn’t even be able to fit my hand around it, but ellen said boys like that. i wonder what it looks like, i’ve only ever seen them in porn. anakin didn’t even notice anything was off with me, didn’t notice me staring. i wish he would.

“fuck,” anakin hissed, his dick was now almost fully hard and throbbing. who knew you were such a slut, fantasising about his cock at the dinner table. if he had known… god he wanted to fucking ruin you. show you how to take his dick, watch as you choked and cried around it as he forced it past your swollen lips. he wanted to paint you in his cum and not stop until you were a shaking writhing mess. he knew you were hot, had thought it the second he saw you, your hair in braids clad in ivory like some kind of fallen angel but had pushed it away, you were his stepsister for fuck sake, but now…

/ he walked in on me changing today, i was only in my underwear and he laughed, but i caught him staring at my boobs, i made sure not to cover them properly and it worked. i got so wet, i don’t think i’ve ever come so hard before. i wanted him to do something, walk over to me and rip my hands away, push me on the bed and fuck me till i saw stars, but instead i just had to use my vibrator. sometimes i wish he could hear me moaning through the wall, maybe he can.

“little fucking slut,” anakin said to himself as he glanced across the page, hand cupping his rock hard cock through his trousers, your words were depraved, desperate. maybe he should walk into the bathroom right now and take you like you were so desperate for, you would have no trouble spreading your legs for him, would probably beg for it, do anything he asked. his perfect little fuck toy. he couldn’t help himself anymore, spitting on his hand and slipping it down his trousers tugging at his cock as he continued to read.

/ i bought a dildo today from ann summers but i’m scared, my fingers are so small compared to it, the woman said it was about average but wow. no matter how much prep i do it hurts. i bet anakin would feel better, the silicon is so hard and cold. i wore one of his t-shirts it smells like him, that helped a little but it’s not the same, i’ve heard his stories when he talks to his friends about the girls he’s fucked. he knows what he’s doing, i wonder how he would take me, on my back nice and slow, or pound into me from behind while i screamed. maybe he would call me angel like he does sometimes, i wish. now my arm just hurts so i’m here alone in my bed playing with my clit wishing it was him.

anakin jerked against his hand at the last sentence, he had never cum this quickly before, but your words had him loosing his shit, he couldn’t even imagine what else you thought if this was only what you choose to write down, what other dirty secrets lurked beneath that pretty facade of pink and glitter. the next page held a collection of polaroids you had taken of him, some from the window as he worked on his car, skin sheened in sweat and oil, shirtless as he drank a bottle of water. another of him laying on the sofa arm resting behind his head a can of beer in hand, and the last was him glaring at the camera. he remembered this one, he had demanded you rip it up, but here it was immortalized with pink and purple hearts surrounding it. but the next page was from today.

/ anakin came home from playing baseball with his friends about an hour ago, he was gross, sweaty and loud after hours with his friends. he slid past me in the kitchen his hands on my hips for just a second i wish he would have bent me over the counter and fucked me there and then. i would have let him, dad was in the living room but i don’t care, god, he’s ruined me. all i can think about is him, his cock, his hands, his lips. i need him. i’m gonna go shower, i was meant to help shmi with dinner but i couldn’t, not when i was soaking through my panties while stood next to her fantasising about her son.

“oh fuck,” anakin hissed as he came into his fist, cum coating his boxers and knuckles. you were insane, and maybe so was he for getting so worked up but he knew he couldn’t hold back now, he had seen those words and there was no going back. a bit shakily he stood from the bed wiping his hands on his sweatpants and grabbing the sparkly pen from your desk and decided to leave a little note of his own in your dirty little diary.

/ who knew you were such a dirty little slut, angel girl

and with that he left your bedroom, cum drying on his boxers, he could only hope you found his note sooner rather than later.

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after your shower you felt a lot better, you had turned the water considerably cooler than usual and taken some deep breaths you had learned from yoga, pushing anakin far from your mind, you let the ritual of getting redressed soothe your mind, slipping into a soft matching set of white shorts and a crop top, leaving your hair loose and applying your skin care. you almost felt like yourself, untainted by the dirty thoughts that seemed perpetually in your mind.

you wished it would stop, you hated yourself for it, your father was finally happy after years of thinking he would never find love again after your mother had passed. if he knew what you were thinking he would be disgusted, he would probably send you off to your aunt to protect anakin and shmi from your sick mind, the thought made your stomach hurt. you wanted to stop you really did, but then you would see him and all those dirty thoughts would slip back in, he was haunting you.

you headed downstairs, an airpod pressed in one ear hoping some music would soothe your guilty mind, finding shmi in the kitchen. the woman smiled in relief when she saw you.

“there you are, i sent ani up to get you half an hour ago,” she said a little flustered and instantly your heart dropped, you didn’t know why she was upset but she had needed you. you hated upsetting people, ‘always a people pleaser’ your mother had used to scold you fondly.

“i’m so sorry, anakin never told me,” you said truthfully and the woman sighed before laughing begrudgingly.

“my son has many talents, listening has never been one of them,” she said with a fond smile before turning back to the stove, “i’m making your dad that soup he loves so much but this recipe seems wrong, think you could help me out?” she requested holding out a sheet of paper to you and you took it immediately, nodding happily.

“of course,” you beamed, “well firstly it’s chicken stock not vegetable stock,” you informed her, “and secondly use heavy cream instead of milk, he likes the taste more. but other than that it seems perfect”

“really?” she asks you, face a little tight.

“yep, we always make it a little different depending on what we have but you have got this down to a t now i would say, and dads gonna love it,” you said and shmi finally smiled again, you hated when she frowned, it made her seem much older, an echo of the struggling woman she had once been and she didn’t deserve that, she never did.

“want to stay and help me make it?” she asked and you accepted. the pair of you worked in tandem, and soon you had a delicious pot of soup bubbling on the stove ready to be served along with homemade grilled cheese.

“okay, i’m gonna go grab your dad from the den do you mind getting, ani,” shmi asked and you agreed despite yourself, bounding out of the kitchen and up the stairs to anakin’s room, knocking once, then twice and then three times before you finally got a response.

“come in,” he called out, so you swung the door open, expecting a scowl or a blank stare but instead he was smirking widely at you, as though he knew something you didn’t and it made your skin crawl. “oh, hey, angel,” he greeted. fuck.

“dinners ready,” you told him, proud that you managed to keep your voice steady and his face dropped a little bit before his smile suddenly widened again.

“and you came to get me?” he asked teasingly, your stomach tightened, twisting into a ball and sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. he was going to kill you.

“your mum asked me to,” you say shortly, spinning around and walking away, taking a deep breath as you did so. stupid, stupid, stupid…

“angel,” anakin said again, and that name was going to send you into overdrive, a flush growing on your cheeks. “not gonna wait for me? that’s not very nice,” he complained and you shook your head.

“are you high?” you asked him as you reached the landing but anakin grabbed your wrist stopping you from heading down the steps.

“what makes you say that?” he asked you, drawing closer to you so that your faces were only inches apart, you could feel his hot breath fanning on your cheeks, see deep into his eyes, so pretty and blue beneath the crystalline lights above.

“your acting strange,” you pointed out with a frown, anakin was never nice to you, he was cordial sometimes, blunt others and sometimes he was simply rude, but never this. never teasing and friendly and chasing you down through the halls of your home to chat. it was as unnerving as it was utterly addictive.

“i just learned something new today, something that’s changed my perspective a little bit,” he crooned, hand coming up and resting on the wall beside your head, you blinked at him. what the fuck?

“what did you learn?” you asked him curiously and anakin grinned, a beautiful blinding thing that took your breath away.

“you’ll see,” was all he said before withdrawing from you and heading down the steps leaving you flabbergasted where you stood, heart racing and core throbbing. “come on, angel, don’t wanna be late for dinner,” he called up to you and you followed soundlessly, wondering if you had accidentally fallen into a different dimension while in the shower.

dinner was normal, or as normal is it could be with anakin acting so out of character, he was chatting like he hadn’t seen anyone in years, some kind of newfound zest for life that even had his mother seemed confused about but accepted with open arms. it was nice to see anakin talking, usually, he would mutter a few words before disappearing back to his room.

“yea, i was thinking of working at the garage next term to get a little extra cash, you know where you’re going to colleague next year, angel?” anakin asked, you looked over at him a little wide-eyed at the nickname in front of your parents, but glancing at them you saw that they both seemed… pleased.

“um, i have a few options actually, still not sure,” you murmured, still lost in what was happening, but it was making your head spin.

“she’s been looking at your school a bit,” your dad cut in, “it’s got a great program for what she wants to study,”

“oh really? maybe i could set something up for you, or maybe just give you a show around of the school next term, let you see what it’s really about,” anakin suggested with a smile and shmi beamed.

“oh that's a lovely idea, ani dear,” she exclaimed, “what do you think, sweetheart?” she asked her eyes darting to you and you pulled your lips into a smile.

“yea that sounds great,” you agreed, glancing back at anakin who sent you a wink. you almost groaned, rubbing your thighs together, you thought anakin being mean to you was enough to send you spiraling, spilling dirty fantasies into your book but him being nice was going to send you into a whirl of delusions that were going to be detrimental to your mental health if it continued.

once dinner was finished you rushed to your room, ready to spill your guts into your diary, you grabbed it from your bedside table and flicked to the next open page, your heart dropping to your stomach when you saw the words scrawled on the page.

\ who knew you were such a dirty little slut, angel girl

“oh my god,” you whispered to yourself, tossing the book down onto the bed, horror-struck. you knew that handwriting, had seen it many times before and now here it was taunting you in a book full of your sick twisted fantasies that all featured him. you felt nauseous, bile rising in your throat, is this why he was so happy, some sort of twisted revenge? had he taken pictures of it? did he plan on showing your dad? “this can’t be happening,” you whispered to yourself.

“i see you found my note,” a cocky voice echoed from behind you, you span around, lips trembling and anakin’s brows furrowed slightly.

“please don’t tell my dad, i’m so sorry anakin. i know it’s wrong and disgusting but please he will never forgive me if i ruin this for him, he loves your mum so much and i…” the world were tumbling from your lips so quickly you could hardly process them, not even noting as anakin shut the door behind him and crossed the room so that he was stood before you, “i’m sorry,” you practically wailed, “you were never supposed to see that, it was just somewhere to put down my thoughts,” tears were streaming down your cheeks now, “please don’t hate me,”

“you gonna be quiet now?” anakin asked you once you finally stopped rambling and you nodded through sniffles, vision blurred by your tears. “good,” he whispered, reaching up and cupping your cheek, “i’m not gonna tell your dad, angel,” he said soothingly, “not when i know how much fun we can have now,” anakin said with a smile.

“what… what are you saying?” you asked him. this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening right now. no way.

“i’m saying, that i wanna see just how dirty you can be, angel,” he cooed, “i wanna know the darkest parts of that fucked up little mind of yours,” your breathing hitched, raising your hands to wipe the tears from your ruddy cheeks and staring at him in disbelief.

“anakin…” you whispered, “this is wrong,”

“oh i know that, baby, but it didn’t stop you from burying your fingers into your cunt and imagining it was me. from laying in bed only a room away from me and moaning my name while you tried to use a dildo on yourself wishing it was me,” he hummed, “and what was it that you wrote earlier? that you were picturing me bending you over with your dad in the next room, that you couldn’t be with my mother in the kitchen because you were dripping down your thighs thinking about me,”

“oh fuck,” you moaned, hearing him depict your fantasies, the things you had said were driving you wild, something stirring within you, it set your veins alight with molten flames, spreading through your body and stirring your aching cunt, you could feel your arousal flooding your panties, sticky and wet, you didn’t know what to do, what to think but you needed him, more than you had ever needed anything in your life.

“that’s it, angel, i wanna hear every pretty sound you can make fall from your pretty lips,” anakin prompted, one hand falling to your hips and pulling you in so that your flush was pressed against him another moan falling from your lips when you felt his half hard cock press against your stomach. “what is it you want, tell me, what dirty secret are we sharing tonight?” he asked you.

“kiss me, just kiss me please,” you begged, and anakin obliged crashing his lips to yours, it was messy, all teeth and tongue and spit. immediately he was diving in, tongue prying through your lips and plunging into your mouth, he tasted of smoke, mint and sugar and instantly you were addicted. your hands rose to his shoulders, tugging him closer you wanted to feel every part of him. your hands tugged at his t-shirt wanting to taste his skin, to see him everywhere.

“so eager, baby,” he muttered against your lips before reaching behind him, tugging his t-shirt over his head revealing the planes of his chest and his toned stomach to your awaiting eyes, you had seen him shirtless many times before, but now you could touch him. “take what you want,” he grinned and you did just that, fingers dipping into every crevice, you explored him as though one would a fine piece of art you wanted to memorise the feeling of his skin, the taste, you hardly thought twice before leaning down and kissing the middle of his chest, running your tongue along the unblemished skin, moaning at the taste of salt and skin. “god,” the boy murmured, reaching down and grasping your hair, yanking your head back harshly, “take my sweatpants off,” he commanded and you were not one to disobey, not now, not when you had him.

you wrapped your hands around the waist band and tugged, gasping when his dick sprung free, unrestrained by any boxers beneath, he was already hard, really hard, his cock flushed a deep red, the tip weeping milky precum and gods were you right, he was big, long and thick, far bigger than the dildo you had purchased. you salivated at the sight.

“can i…” you whispered, slowly trailing off, a wave of embarrassment washing over you.

“tell me what you want, angel, this is your dirty little dream, i’m just helping make it come true,” anakin said and you nodded, taking a deep breath.

“wanna taste you, ani, can i?” you asked him gently, batting your lashes at him and the boy hissed through his teeth, jaw clenching in a way that made your entire body sing.

“fuck me, go ahead, pretty girl, show me what that mouth is actually good for,” his words were disgusting, a sick way of calling your words worthless and it made you go fucking feral, you sank to your knees, eyeing his cock a little unsurely before carefully wrapping a hand around his thick length, anakin groaned, watching you, eyes alight with interest.

“look at that you were right,” he told you, “your hand can’t even fit around it,” he said, and you shuddered, ingjerking your hand slightly, letting itit glide along the velvety skin of his cock, admiring it, and the sound he made was worth it, so much so that you leaned in, licking a stripe along the side of his cock, stopping once you reached the tip and suckling it gently. a.nakin’s hands fell to your hair gripping it, but not forcing you, he was letting you explore first, you bobbed you head, sinking deeper on his cock, the sensation was strange but not unpleasant. so you took him deeper, the salty taste of him drawing you in further, you pulled back, sucking in a deep breath before taking him deeper until it hit the back of your throat. you were hardly halfway down his cock, so you tried again this time more forcefully, choking when his cockhead rammed into the back of your throat.

“easy, baby,” anakin cooed, pulling you off of his cock, you looked up at him with glossy eyes, spit spilling down your chin.

“you’re so big,” you whined at him accusingly making the boy laugh, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“poor little slut, so desperate for cock but has no clue what she’s doing,” he patronised, thumb trailing down and hooking in your mouth, parting your lips for him, you let your mouth fall open. “gotta take it slow, you aren’t gonna take it all the first time, okay? probably not for a few times, gotta train that throat of yours to take cock, huh?” he asked and you nodded at him, unable to speak with his thumb in you mouth. “try again, huh,” he prompted and you nodded eagerly, this time letting anakin guide your mouth to his awaiting cock, you followed his instructions going slower this time, starting at just the tip suckling it, savoring the taste of his salty cum in your mouth but eventually anakin began to push you further with a groan. you swallowed around him, trying to remember to breathe with the heavy weight on your tongue, your mouth felt stretched, lips stinging, and jaw aching but you couldn’t stop. you needed this, needed him to cum, to know he was enjoying this as much as you were.

“good girl, that’s it,” anakin praised you and you preened, moaning around his cock and making the boy chuckle, “oh you like that, huh, pretty girl? wanna be my good girl?” you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak so instead you locked your eyes with his and this time it was anakin’s turn to moan. “you look so fucking sexy like this, should have known you made for it,” you bobbed your head faster in agreement, it felt wrong to agree, to accept that you were just some sort of object that was made to take dick and love it, but you couldn't argue. not now when you had tasted his cock and you knew you would never be the same again, this was it for you, a springboard into a world that would drive you insane.

“you keep going i’m gonna cum, you ready for that, angel?” he asked you, but you didn’t respond, only forcing him deeper, spluttering slightly but you didn’t pull back, instead taking a settling breath through your nose, spit was dripping down your chin, tears streaming but you couldn’t stop, continuing to choke on his cock, only pulling away when you absolutely had too and it was barley for a few seconds before you were on him again. it was only about a minute before anakin’s hips began to twitch, his cock heavier in your mouth.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck, baby pull back a little you don’t wanna choke,” he prompted and you did as you were told. lips suctioned around his tip, using your hand to jerk off the rest of his cock and with that, he was cumming down your throat in thick hot spurts. it was disorientating and everything you had ever dreamed of. you swallowed as much as you could of the salty liquid, but some escaped the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin and onto your plush carpet, you kept suckling until anakin pulled you away, his lips parted and cheeks flushed.

“that was…” he trailed off voice hoarse, “you did such a good job, angel,” he cooed, reaching out and helping you stand up, your knees ached and you felt a little shaky but you couldn't ignore the heat in your core and the sopping wetness between your legs.

“i liked it,” you said bashfully, voice scratchy.

“of course you did,” anakin mocked lightly but there was no malice behind his words, instead he reached down and grabbed his shirt using it to mop your cheeks and mouth, “come on i wanna try something,” he said, grabbing you hand and leading you over to your bed, “lay down, pretty girl,”

“what are you doing?” you asked him softly and he grinned.

“just lay down, okay, i’m gonna do the work for a bit,” he said, so you followed instruction and laid down on the bed, looking up at him with such innocent trust that it made his heart stutter slightly, “i’m gonna take your top off okay?” he said, climbing onto the bed with you and hovering over you, his legs stradling either side of your hips, he looked so big like this, tall and strong, body on show as he looked down at you.

“okay,” you agreed, letting anakin tug the crop top from your body leaving your chest bare to him.

“been waiting a while to see these again,” he murmured, finger pinching your nipple lightly, you gasped, jolting upwards at the sensation and anakin laughed, “sensitive girl,” he teased, pinching your other nipple, using his body to keep you pinned to the bed. “what was it you said in that dirty little book when i saw your tits for the first time?” he asked you, “hm, let’s have a look shall we?” he said grabbing the book from where it lay only a few inches away from you. your cheeks lit up in shame, shaking your head.

“ani, no,” you pleaded with him but the boy shot you a harsh stare.

“what was that, baby?” he questioned, tone stern, “i thought you wanted this? want me to leave you to deal with this alone like you always do, seeing my cock should do you a good couple months, and you even got to taste it,”

“don’t leave” you begged, “i’m just embarrassed,” you whimper, this brought the smile back to anakin’s face.

“you don’t need to be embarrassed, pretty girl, without this little thing you would probably still be downstairs watching tv with your dad trying not to think about me, isn’t that right?” he asked, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your swollen lips.

“yes,” you said quietly, “just don’t be mean, i really… i needed you. i need you,”

“oh, baby, but you like it when i’m a little mean don’t you?” he snickered, “but back to what i was saying, where is it?” he asked flicking through the pages of the book before he found what he was looking for, “ah, here it is. you wanted me to push you onto this bed and fuck you till you saw stars,” you whimper at this, “and look how proud you were that you caught me staring at your tits,” he grinned, “pretty things aren’t they,” he leaned down, capturing your right nipple between his teeth, nibbling slightly before sucking it into his mouth. the sensation was too much, you gasped, trying to jerk against him but anakin was too strong, he bit down on your nipple, a warning before soothing it with his tongue, moving and doing the same to the other one until you were a panting mess.

“good girl,” he praised, “now this wasn’t what i wanted to do actually, just had to get a taste,” he told you with a wink and you blinked at him stunned. “where do you keep your vibrator, angel?” anakin questioned you.

“um, my bedside draw,” you murmured and anakin nodded, leaning over and opening up and pulling out your pretty pink vibrator.

“cute,” he said, “now, baby, i want to see you use this, okay? wanna know what you look like when you are playing with yourself and thinking about me,” he crooned.

“ani, i’m… fuck okay,” you said reaching out and taking the vibrator from him, anakin climbed off of you and you immediately missed the weight of him atop of you but ignored it was you yanked your shorts and panties down, revealing your throbbing pussy to anakin, the boy groaning in apprecation.

“holy shit, you’re fucking soaked, angel,” he crooned, “look at your clit, all puffy and red. all from sucking my cock?” anakin asked and you nodded, cheeks crimson. “you are a dream, pretty girl,” your clit pulsed at his words and quickly you pressed your vibrator to it before switching it on. your body writhed at the contact, you had been desperate for this for what felt like hours, every inch of your being aching for relief as you trailed the toy down, soaking it in your wetness before bringing it back to your clit, moaning at the feeling.

“fuck, anakin, feels so good” you cried out, tilting your head to look at him and seeing him gazing at your pussy in awe.

“i bet it does, angel, you were so sore, so desperate for this,” he said, reaching out and trailing a finger along your dripping slit, your hips jerked, heart pounding, “gonna come that quick, fuck, do it, baby,” he prompted. you pressed the toy harder to your clit gasping and crying out, the sight of anakin before you, the months of waiting, wanting, it all built up and before you could even react the coil in your stomach snapped and you came with a sharp moan, the vibrator still pressed to your cunt as you twitched through the aftershocks of your orgasm. then you felt it, something wet and warm trailing through your fold, you looked down to see anakin now lying between your legs, his tongue buried in your cunt.

“ani” you sobbed, switching the vibrator off and tossing it to the side, anakin taking this as his chance to wrap is lips around your clit and suck. you all but screamed, still strumming with pleasure and overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on you, it was hypnotic.

“did i tell you to stop?” he asked pulling back and grabbing the vibrator and flicking it on, pressing to to your abused clit, you gasped, looking down at him with wide eyes, “you are gonna hold this while i eat you out okay, you move it and i’ll stop,” he commanded.

“but, ani, it’s so sensitive,” you told him and anakin simply scoffed.

“you can take it, sluts like you can come as many times as you need to, bet you are still aching for relief,” he said pressing it down harder and you screeched, “take it,” and you did, grabbing the toy from his hand and holding it there as he burried his tongue back inside of you, licking into your sopping walls.

“oh my god, oh my god, anakin please,” you begged one hand slipping down to his hair, tugging on the dark strands with a sob. the vibrator on your clit was brutal, stirring up another orgasm in quick sucession to the last but anakin didn’t stop, he continued to lick and suck while you trembled, slick pouring from your slit as you jerked violently, cumming twice before anakin finally let up.

“you taste fucking divine, angel,” anakin said, his face glossy with your cum, you couldn’t move, couldn’t think as he switched the vibrator off and tossed it to the ground. “fuck me, i’ve never seen such a pretty girl before,” he crooned, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before crawling up your body and pressing a dirty kiss to your lips. he tasted of salt and your release and it made your body ache once more.

“ani, ani, please,” you begged against his mouth, you werent sure exactly what you were begging for but you needed it, needed him.

“sh, angel, its okay,” he said gently, running his hands down your hips sothingly, “tell me what you need” he prompted and you wailed, he looked stunned, “hey, come on talk to me, too much?” he questioned but you shook your head violently.

“need to feel you,” you said through heaving breaths, clumsily reaching out and grasping his cock that pulsed in your hand, he spluttered out a moan, rocking his hips into you, head of his cock catching your clit with such delicious pleasure that you swore you almost saw stars. “inside,” you demanded, words failing you in that moment of utter want.

“need to prep you first,” he said, gently removing your hands from his cock before sliding his fingers through your throbbing heat finding your slit with ease and slowly sinking one finger in.

“more,” you begged almost instantly, hands clinging to his shoulders and anakin complied, sinking another finger inside of you, pumping into your wet heat as you babbled and cried.

“never imagined i would have you like this, so desperate for me,” anakin panted, “wanna know a secret, i’ve wanted this for so long, have pictured taking you so many times,” he whispered, “i came reading your diary, seeing how much you wanted me,”

“anakin,” you said, hands coming to his cheeks cupping them so that he would face you, you could see the raw desire that danced behind his pretty blue eyes, “i’m ready, please,” and he complied, slowly lining his cockhead with your swollen hole slowly inching in. the burn was intense, a tearing feeling consuming your cunt even as you leaked more slick onto his sodden cock. you gasped, more tears streaming down your cheeks as anakin slowly inched deeper.

“you can do it, baby, doing so well for me,” he praised as he sunk deeper, inch by inch before burying himself at the hilt and staying there, “look at that, angel, you did it,”

“oh, oh fuck,” it was nothing like your dildo that was all solid plastic and cold feel, instead it was warm and hard and sending your body into overdrive, it took a few moments to adjust to the feel of it, the intrusive weight uncomfortable but not unwelcomed, and it was all worth it to see anakins face. his eyes screwed up in pleasure, bottom lip pinched between his teeth as he tried to stay still for you. “move, you can move, please,”

“you sure, baby,” anakin gasped, voice tight.

“yes, please,” you agreed, he started slow at first, gentle shalow thrusts that allowed you to get used to the feeling of it, but soon he began to speed up, sinking deeper inside of you with each thrust until you could feel the tip pressing against your cervix, the pleasure was indescribable, you never knew it could feel like this, so all consuming. “yes, yes, harder,” you pleaded with him.

“you sure,” he gasped out.

“yes, i’m okay,” you nodded, and anakin listened, suddenly there was nothing between you but the heat of your skin and the slick of your bodies, a mix of sweat, cum and spit. it was disgusting, a sick merging of your bodies, anakin’s face was burried in your neck, sucking crimson marks onto your sensitive skin while you clawed at his back, manicured nails cutting into his golden skin.

“shit, you feel fucking amazing,” anakin said against your skin, grinding deeper, “such a good little pussy for me, taking me so well,” he told you, “you need to come on my cock again, wanna feel you cleanch around me, okay?” he said and you nodded frantically.

“please, ani,”

“that’s it, good girl,” he cooed, thumb coming between you to circle your clit, you could feel your orgasm building as he jerked into you, his thrusts getting sloppy and you knew he was close, could tatse it on your tongue, you needed it, needed him. “i own this pussy now,” he hissed, “gonna make every single one of your dirty fantasies come true and then we can try some of mine,” anakin told you, thumb speeding up and pleasure exploded behind your eyelids, everything went white and you were gone. when you came too anakin was hovering over you still cock in hand jerking himself off frantically.

“ani,” you whispered, hand coming up shakily and grasping his cock jerking it lightly and anakin came in thick hot spurts all over your chest and face while you took it happily. he collapsed down beside you, pulling you in so your face was pressed against his chest, leg cocking over his hips. “wow,” was all you managed to say.

“better get ready baby, this was only the beginning,” anakin smirked, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forhead and you couldn’t wait to see what else he had in store for you, and you thanked the stars that you had made that little diary.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

part 2???

#anakin skywalker fanfiction #emo anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #star wars fanfiction #anakin smut #hayden christensen #sam monroe #anakin skywalker #stepbro!anakin #hopes fics !#star wars #anakin x you #darth vader x reader #anakin modern au

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rhaenella · 5 months

Text

CL16 | Is It Over Now? | pt.7

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

genre: social media au

summary: you and charles have been everyone's fave couple on the grid, but when you somewhat unexpectedly break up, you turn to songwriting to cope with the pain

face claim: léon

a/n: the finale... once again, all songs mentioned are either by taylor swift or léon. happy reading x

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Liked by taylorswift, danielricciardo and 1,292,849 others

y/n: End & New Beginnings. ONE WEEK.

✨Is It Over Now?~Say Don’t Go~Bigger Than The Whole Sky~You’re Losing Me~Now That We Don’t Talk~Pretty Boy✨

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user55: y/n’s latest masterpiece is incoming!!

user56: YES GIRL LETS GO

user57: omg finally 😱

user58: can’t fucking wait 💛

user59: babe are you realizing you’re releasing on friday the 13th 💀

user56: y/n is like “i’ve conquered all this year’s bad luck already, no one can stop me”

6 October

Liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 1,450,288 others

y/n: It feels like it’s been a long time coming and now it’s here, my new EP ‘End & New Beginnings’ 🤍 Been a few sleepless nights making this to be honest. Ups and downs like always. But now I’m just so happy to let go of it and let you have it, and hopefully you’ll embrace it and make it yours.

To the incredible people who’ve been a part of this record, THANK YOU! Couldn’t have done it without you…

Here’s to the end & new beginnings 🕊️

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taylorswift: Perfection 🥰✨🎼😍💋

y/n: ❤️❤️❤️

danielricciardo: ART.

Liked by y/n

lilymhe: Beautiful work sweetie, I can’t with how talented you are 🥹 You made me cry the entire 23 mins (and then again cuz it was on repeat)

y/n: Awww, thank you love 🥰 and I’m sorryyyy 🙊

alex_albon: It’s so so good! I didn’t cry tho…

lilymhe: Liar

Liked by y/n

landonorris: Wow 💕

Liked by y/n

yourbestfriend: You’ve outdone yourself once again, darling, love you

y/n: I love you more baby

user60: as someone who’s just gone through a terrible breakup too, i cannot express how comforting it is to hear these songs and realize i’m not alone

Liked by y/n

13 October

—

You let your phone drop to the bathroom counter, blinking slowly, unable to fathom the conversation that had just taken place. Had he really just said those things? Scrolling through the texts confirmed that yes, he had indeed. The bastard.

Charles had always been the jealous type. But attacking you like that when he had been the one to… It was absolutely ridiculous. Apparently he still couldn’t—or wouldn’t—grasp the depths of how much he had actually hurt you.

You’d loved him with all of your heart. Until he had ripped it out and hurled it to the floor, letting it shatter into a million tiny pieces. Yet, even then, you would’ve forgiven him. If only he’d apologised. If only he’d shown true remorse. But he hadn’t. And so you’d been forced to walk the path of mending your own heart, and move on with your life.

Perhaps a small part of you had hoped that he could be happy for you. That somehow, even after everything, you would be able to greet each other normally—that you could coexist peacefully. But as his texts just now had demonstrated, that wasn’t going to happen. Not right now. And definitely not next week in Texas. You sighed. It would’ve been too good to be true, anyway. Especially considering who you were currently seeing…

A light knock sounded at the door, startling you out of those thoughts.

“Are you almost ready to go, darling?” a male voice asked, soft.

Right. Dinner. Celebrations.

You had been in the midst of applying the finishing touches to your makeup and outfit before Charles had interrupted, quite literally shocking you to the core when his name had appeared on your lock screen. He’d been the last person you’d expected to hear from today.

You swallowed the bitter taste that Charles’ texts had managed to leave behind. He wasn’t worth it, you repeated to yourself. You weren’t going to let his shenanigans ruin a perfect night—a perfect date. You ran a hand through your hair and readjusted the necklace around your neck when the bathroom door creaked open behind you.

Looking up, your eyes met your handsome, new boyfriend’s through the mirror. He was smiling, eyebrows raised in silent question, ever patient as he waited for you to finish up. You felt your pulse quicken at the sight of him, dressed to perfection in a dark suit, hair neatly tousled.

As always, his presence was able to reassure you within the blink of an eye, the tense muscles in your neck and shoulders relaxing as you gladly let all of your complex emotions fall away.

“Yes,” you nodded, a genuine smile spreading across your lips. “I’m ready.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

THE END

but who is she with? well, there’s a little (and not so subtle) easter egg that refers back to the beginning of part 6 that will confirm certain things… have you spotted it?

thank you everyone for coming along on this ride! it’s been a hell of a lot of fun writing and creating this story 🥰 my apologies to all the y/n x charles shippers out there, but as our songbird said: here’s to the end and new beginnings…

Now, if you'd like, please cast your votes below :)

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Tags: @sukisheadlights @eviethetheatrefreak @blueflorals @kiskso @dessxoxsworld @treehouse-mouse @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @clown-fc @stopeatread @vanishingcherry @bb-swift @leclercdream @scenesofobx @kagatinkita @allywthsr @evieepepi08 @viennakarma @riverjane-d @httpjeonlicious @madnesstaking0ver @futurecorps3 @celesteblack08 @sadg3 @simxican @glow-ish @spideybv28 @laneyspaulding19 @tswizzleismother @slytherinfolk25 @merchelsea @1655clean @urgirlnextdoorr @cixrosie @lightdragonrayne @lxclerc @hopexcroc @nichmeddar @imthebadguyyy

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x singer reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fake instagram #charles leclerc fake social media #formula 1 smau #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #is it over now?

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judasgot-it · 2 months

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There Was Only One Bed

"We tend to get into these situations a lot, now, don't we? Maybe we should make the most of it this time and stop dancing around each other."

Orter Madl ver.

Scenario: Travelling the countryside when of course, your inn sucks and leaves you no choice but to share the smallest bed imaginable.

Spending the night with Kaldo all seemed up to chance.

Both of you happened to be in the area, not even knowing that you would find each other there. The town, being the hellscape it was, had been snowed in by a blizzard and forced the both of you to book a night at one of the smallest inns you had ever stumbled across.

Of course, knowing each other for so long, it wasn't a problem for either of you to stay in the same room. Far from it.

Multiple times before did you share one - with multiple beds, with one bed. It never bothered either of you, seeing as you could both remain professional to each other.

Even outside of work. It wasn't weird to be so close to one another - at least you kept telling yourself that.

But wow. This time was testing your patience.

One bed.

Usually, there was enough space for you and a grown man. The beds you shared were large enough to let both of you stretch out, or at least have space between you when you both curled up.

If either of you woke up touching one another, nothing was ever said about it.

But this bed was ridiculously small. There was barely enough room for Kaldo to stretch out on it - his feet hung out on the side whenever he laid down, forcing him to curl up to keep all of his limbs from dropping out onto the floor.

How the hell were you both going to lay there together? You would have to pack yourselves in like sardines. The thought was making your face warm already.

"Um. I can take the floor Kaldo. There isn't enough room for the both of us."

It was easier to be the bigger man, letting him take the bed that you both had paid far too much for while you shivered on the floor. The room was still cold, even though you had tried to shut the windows tightly. The blizzard chill managed to seep in no matter what, stealing your warmth.

"Absolutely not. I'll sleep on the floor. The bed is warmer."

Kaldo sat up from the bed, only in one layer despite the blizzard outside. His hair was outside of its usual hairstyle, and his eyebags were sagging as he was already prepared to drop dead to the dream world.

"But I don't want you to be sore. You said you had to fight a lot today - I didn't really do much."

"We can fit in. It'll be fine, we both paid for it, and we should both use it."

You couldn't disagree with that logic. Arguing made you anyway.

The room was way overpriced, considering its size. How could this bed be considered for two people?

Sitting down next to him, you tried to avoid making eye contact with him. You felt how warm your face had already gotten, and you could feel how your thighs were touching as you both sat next to each other on the bed.

You had never really shared a bed this intimately with Kaldo before. It really shouldn't have made you so nervous, but even being near him made you want to run away. He made you feel like a little kid sometimes, it was embarrassing.

It was just something about him. Maybe it was the smile he had on his face right now, and the way it made your stomach turn.

Really, it was normal to be in situations like this with your coworker, so you didn't need to make a deal about anything. This was normal, professional behavior - there were worse things that happened inside of the Divine Divisionaries meetings than shared beds.

"Are you cold? I don't really need the blanket that much, my magic keeps me warm."

Huffing, you pulled the blanket to your side, laying down and glaring up at him.

"Of course, you don't feel cold. Thank you, I appreciate the consideration."

You tried to cover every part of your body with the thin blanket but found that it had the same problem as the bed - it was too small and the blanket was too thin to really keep you warm.

At best you could cover your legs, but it stopped just short of your chest and shoulders, leaving you bare and exposed to the elements. The sleep shirt you wore did nothing to stop the chill that seeped into the room, so you crossed your arms across your heart, glaring at the ceiling.

"This sucks."

"Yeah, It does. But we can't fight the weather."

Kaldo shrugged, laying himself next to you. His shoulder was nearly on top of yours, his arms holding his legs so he didn't fall off the small bed. You felt a little pity for him, seeing as he struggled to stay on the bed.

"I wish we could. Couldn't you use one of your heat spells to stop this blizzard and let us walk home?"

Kaldo laughed, the sound deeper than usual and laid with a thick tiredness. It was different from his usual airy voice, sounding less refined and more like a deep river basin.

"You think I can do that?"

His eyes looked to you, ruby eyes open and boring into yours. It felt rare, to see him serious about something.

"Maybe I could, but then I wouldn't be here, now would I?"

His lips upturned into a smile, looking back at the ceiling. The air from his lungs was warm enough to breathe out plumes of steam, and your eyes couldn't help but stay entranced as it poured out of his soft lips.

"We would have an easier time if we were on our sides, you know?"

It made your face red for some reason, voicing that thought out loud.

You both were already so close, but the idea of lying like that made you feel even more embarrassed. Spooning like you were a couple, all because of some blizzard outside.

That's where your thoughts had started to lead, anyway. You didn't want Kaldo to see your face as you got embarrassed, so you wanted to simply turn around and sleep away your cold and the fast beating of your heart.

Glancing to your side, you couldn't escape the man next to you, who was looking at you with a grin as his legs had already started to take up your space. Right, he was taller than you - there was no choice.

With a sigh, you turned to him, slightly hoping that your conversation wasn't over. His voice was soothing, and you liked looking at his face a little too much to be considered normal for just a coworker.

"Are you still cold?"

You blinked, not sure how to answer.

"Well, y-yea sorta. It's fine."

It was a hard line to toe, but you didn't want to intrude and ask Kaldo to use a heat spell. You both had already gotten into bed, and that might be asking too much. He wasn't a fan of using his magic too much anyway, so it was rather invasive, wasn't it?

Without words, Kaldo wrapped his arm around you, his warmth apparent as his limbs wrapped around you like a snake. His legs entangled with yours, your thighs stacking over one another as his lips lay right against the crown of your head, nose blowing heat against the shell of your ear.

You hoped he couldn't feel how fast your heart had started to beat through your chest.

Yes, you had shared a bed before with him. But god, never this close before.

Slowly, you pulled your arm from in between the two of you, the palm of your hand cradling the pulse point along his neck. You could feel how fast his heart was beating, like a raging river.

Maybe it was your imagination that made you think that last part up.

"Hey, Kaldo?"

The man hummed, the vibrations from his throat ringing underneath your fingers.

"This isn't awkward for you, is it?"

"Far from it, actually. I don't think anything could be uncomfortable when it's with you, darling."

Darling?

Your breath hitched, as your mind reeled around what he just said, his lips brushing against your forehead, kissing you gently in a way that spread fire across your skin.

"What do you mean by that?"

Hiding yourself deeper against the man, you felt the skin on your cheeks begin to warm as you pressed them against his bare neck.

Darling. Kaldo had called you darling.

"We should just stop beating around the bush with this. We act like more than just coworkers, don't we?"

You were shocked into silence, feeling how Kaldo pulled his hand higher against your back, his fingers feeling your upper spine. It made you curl in on yourself, feeling how his chest pressed against yours with each breath he took.

The feeling of wanting to run away was strong, coursing through your entire nervous system. It made your limbs ache, more than from the cold.

Kaldo might have known, as he grasped the back of your shirt, his breath heavy and warm against your skin.

You didn't feel cold at all in his arms.

"Why do you keep running whenever it gets like this?"

His voice was so quiet, but it practically reverberated against your skull.

"I don't know. This is a little much for coworkers."

"We've been doing this for years. Shouldn't we call ourselves more than just that?"

You breathed a sigh. It was hard to say the quiet part outloud.

"Friends?"

"Do you really think of me as just a friend?"

Kaldo's voice was incredulous, unserious with an undertone of hurt.

"No. I wouldn't lay like this with anyone else."

The both of you froze at that. It was the truth - there was no one else you knew who could even make you feel this way. Not even an ex or a crush.

"Then why don't we stop lying to ourselves."

You felt him shift away, his nose brushing against yours as he stared at you with hooded eyes, face to face on the small bed. There was nowhere to run, so you could only look back at his ruby gaze, feeling how he tried to pierce through your soul.

"Ah, I don't..."

It was hard to know what to say. The words were lodged in your throat, and you felt like you staring down a flaming dragon. Right, feelings.

"We're practically kissing already, so why don't we just do that instead?"

It was time to stop being a coward.

Pulling yourself up, you smashed your lips against his, trying to ignore the need to breathe. It was messy and all over the place, and you could feel how Kaldo's hand traveled to your jaw, his forearm trapping your shoulder.

His lips were warm, moving against yours and leading them in a direction you tried to follow. You tried to find space to move, feeling the cut off of oxygen from your brain as you still hadn't breathed.

Pulling away, you looked at the ivory-haired man, your face flush with emotion. It was hard not to heave heavy breaths, the nervousness making you want to take in ten times the amount of air you usually would.

"You know you can breathe, right? Or do I leave you breathless like that?"

Kaldo smiled, his eyes looking between every single one of your facial features. His hand brushed away a crease in your brow, making the feeling of blood in your cheeks more evident.

It wasn't fair, not being able to hide or run away.

"I don't know. I'm not a good kisser."

"I can teach you." There was a stupid grin on his face as he said this, not even registering how corny he was.

Pushing against his hold, you attempted to bury your face away in between the two of you. It was futile, as Kaldo's grip only tightened against you.

"Stop saying that stuff!"

It made you feel embarrassed for no reason, listening as Kaldo spoke to you as if you were in a cheesy romcom and not your coworker for the last few years.

"It got you to kiss me, didn't it?"

Kaldo was reveling in the victory, his words laced with a tired laugh.

Sighing, you relaxed against him once again, feeling how fingers found themselves brushing against your scalp.

At some point, you heard his voice speaking to you, but your eyes had begun to close, soothed by his warmth and the feeling of his body entangled with yours.

And in the morning, it was the first time you both had talked about the night before. And you didn't even feel like running away.

This is for my valentine's event, it's still open btw, there are still prompts open so go ask <3 Anyway to the anon who asked this I love u, thanks for asking for my shmookie Kaldo. Honestly praying you liked it cause there really isn't a lot of characterization on him so I'm kinda just making shit up, and also I wrote the majority of this while ill but I want to make this readable. I also began an Orter Madl ver. so look out for that (when i get to it).

Tagging @fellow-anime-weeb927 because I feel like it's obligatory, Kaldo stans must rise.

#mashle x reader #kaldo gehenna x reader #kaldo x reader #kaldo gehenna #kaldo x you #kaldo gehenna x you #judas valentines event #<- adding this under a tag lol

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skzdarlings · 1 month

Text

bodyguard: the first guard | part three | chan/reader

masterlist.

(part one of the previous story.)

part one | part two | part three | tba

( read on AO3 )

A sequel to the Bodyguard. Miroh’s daughter is assigned a bodyguard of her own. The past is confronted when old friendships and new enemies are pushed to the brink.

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: sequel to the bodyguard (felix/reader). this is a new reader perspective. the previously established story dyanmics: explicit violence, mentions of torture. mentions of past sexual abuse, detailed descriptions of needles. chapter word count: 12,525 words.

B E F O R E

“Happy fourteenth birthday.”

Felix looks up from his work. He underperformed in training today and landed himself a punishment. His good record spared him anything too painful, but he has been assigned cleaning duty. Taking apart, cleaning, and reassembling weapons is not difficult work – he could do it in his sleep – but it is tedious.

Tedium is its own kind of torture, especially these days with his mind in a state of tumult. He has grown closer to Chris with each passing day. Felix knows they are not meant to think of each other as friends, just fellow soldiers, but that is the word Felix uses.

My friend.

That is who stands over Felix now. Chris is smiling and holding something wrapped in what looks like a kitchen napkin. Felix blinks at it, then furrows his brow.

“Huh?” Felix says. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Could be!” Chris says.

Felix supposes Chris has a point. Felix does not actually know his own birthday because he bounced around foster care before he found himself in Miroh’s program. If his birthday was recorded anywhere, no one told him what it was. So it could be his birthday. The odds are not great but not impossible.

“Um,” Felix says, because no one has ever wished him a happy – or happy possible – birthday. He guesses the best reply is, “Thanks?”

“It’s not a trick, man,” Chris says, smiling. He laughs at Felix, though it doesn’t feel cruel, and ruffles his hair before shoving the little wrapped item at him. “Here,” Chris says. “Got it especially for you.”

Felix unfolds the napkin and finds a cookie. It’s not the kind of food that is served at the regiment because their diet is so strict. Food is a sustenance and not a pleasure.

“Wow,” Felix says. It is a genuine surprise. Chris had to go out of his way to get this.

Felix feels embarrassed. He still struggles to cope with feeling in general. He almost yearns for a simpler, more naïve time, when he didn’t have to think or feel, just trust and follow. Now he is a flustered knot of embarrassment because Chris is giving him presents just because Felix mentioned he had never received one. It was an off-handed remark a few days ago, that he didn’t know his birthday and had never received a present but that it didn’t matter because he didn’t deserve it.

And he didn’t, he doesn’t, deserve any of it. Not a birthday wish or a thoughtful gift or Chris’s friendship. Felix has so much blood on his hands and he doesn’t how much of it is innocent. He never counted his kills like some other agents, stupid kids bragging to seem bigger and more powerful than their circumstances. Felix never did it for glory. He knew his place. Now he doesn’t count them because it doesn’t matter. It all comes back to him when he closes his eyes. He remembers what they were wearing, what they said before they died, the things they begged to a naïve, indifferent child.

He doesn’t count them because he doesn’t need a number to know it’s too much and he will never be able to take it back. He doesn’t deserve birthdays and friendships and Chris. He never will.

He doesn’t say this out loud. He knows Chris will argue with him, belligerent in his kindness and reassurance. Felix won’t listen in turn. The conversation would be useless. Rather than bother, Felix asks, “Where did you get it?”

“Hey, I know I’m trouble,” Chris says, still smiling, “but I got connections too, you know?”

Felix guesses he means Miroh’s daughter as she is the only agent with outside connections. They seem to have a tenuous understanding because she and Chris get in the most trouble. Chris, because he still bristles at commands and steps out of line. Her, because she’s Miroh’s daughter and held to a higher standard than the rest of them.

Chris can befriend almost anyone, garnering admiration in his peers if nothing else. His rebellious streak means no one wants visible association with him, but in the quietest of corners there is a whispered respect for the First Guard. He is as notorious as he is skilled and he has a natural leadership.

Felix supposes it is not outside the realm of possibility that even Miroh’s daughter would consider Chris a friend – but only somewhere even quieter than most.

Felix does not consider Miroh’s daughter a friend and he doubts he ever will. Her proximity to Miroh makes her an even bigger liability than Chris. Felix would never get close to someone like that, born into their position and too close to power for his liking.

“Miroh’s daughter, you mean,” Felix says.

Felix might keep his musings close to his heart, but that doesn’t mean Chris can’t read them anyway. Chris is a soldier by instinct if not choice. He is always one step ahead. It’s like he is inside Felix’s head. He seems to know what Felix will do before Felix does.

“Yeah,” Chris says. He rubs the back of his neck, breathing deeply. He looks almost sheepish, as if admitting he knows better. “She’s not that bad when you get to know her. Really.”

Felix is certain he looks unconvinced. It makes Chris laugh.

“You look worried,” Chris says.

“I do worry about you,” Felix says. He looks down at the cookie in his hand. It is hard to say out loud, but he manages a weak, “You’re my friend.”

Chris is suspiciously quiet. When Felix looks up, Chris has a determination to his countenance.

“Find me when you’re done here,” Chris says. “I wanna show you something.”

Felix, as usual, does as he is told. When his punishment ends, he tracks Chris to the barracks where the older boy is patiently waiting. He claps Felix on the shoulder but otherwise doesn’t stop to greet him. He is a little skittish as he leads Felix to their mysterious destination.

It is not so extraordinary in the end. Nothing around here is. Everything is cold chrome and sleek silver, one room much like the next, branded by Miroh as surely as its occupants.

Chris knocks out a ventilation panel then leads Felix to what looks like an unused crawl space, forgotten and collecting dust.

“Welcome to my office,” Chris jokes, still with that nervous laughter. It is putting Felix on edge.

“Is everything all right?” Felix asks.

“Well, no, Felix,” Chris says. “It isn’t. You know that now, don’t you?”

A couple years of shared assignments between the best and second best, the rebellious and the reluctant. A couple years of watching Miroh bludgeon his way through the world. A couple years of regret.

A couple years of friendship to change everything.

“Yeah,” Felix says. It is all he needs to say.

“Sit,” Chris says. There is a corner of the room that has been cleared of dust, this part of the hideaway evidently well-used. “Let’s talk.”

Whatever conversation Felix expects to have, it is not the one he gets. He sits and watches Chris, watches him breathe and measure his words. Chris is usually confident in what he has to say, even when staring down a barrel of a gun. This is more than disconcerting.

“I’ve been talking to some others in the program,” Chris says. “We’re all growing up. I’ll be eighteen soon. If we’re already strong, we’re just gonna get stronger. Miroh has complete control over us. I’m scared that if we don’t do something about it soon, then everything is going to get worse. A lot, lot worse.”

“Do something,” Felix says, his mind going a mile a minute. “What do you mean? Who else have you told about this?”

“People I consider friends,” Chris says. He puts a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “People like you, Felix.”

He thinks of the cookie in his pocket. His heart punches up with alarm.

“Miroh’s daughter?” Felix asks and this time he knows for certain his thoughts are very clear. He says her name – not even her name, her position, the daughter and heir of the very thing Chris wants to fight – and he says it with the obvious inflection of what-the-fuck-are-you-thinking?

“She’s a friend,” Chris says in a voice he usually reserves for an enemy. It startles Felix into silence. Seeing that, Chris smiles, trying to lighten the mood. “You don’t have to trust her,” Chris says. “Just trust me. Felix, I want to get us out, all of us. I don’t want that man or any other man like him to hurt anyone else. Not kids, not adults, not anyone. I won’t put you in more danger, I swear. That’s the opposite of what I want. I’m gonna protect you, okay? I’m gonna protect all of you. When the time comes to take a stand, I just want you to be ready. If something happens, if it all goes wrong…”

Felix looks at him, alarm and worry plain on his young face. Chris squeezes his shoulder again.

“If…” Chris swallows then continues, “If it is all goes wrong, I’ll pay the price alone. But I’d rather die trying to save all of you than live another day hurting innocent people for Miroh.”

“Chris—” Felix starts, an argument on his tongue.

“Don’t,” Chris says firmly. “If there was anything worth dying for, Felix, then it’s this. I’m gonna get you out. I’m gonna get you all out. I swear. Just be ready for when I say. Just trust me. Just be my friend.”

Felix spends a week after that in a state of restless turmoil. He sleeps poorly and fights worse and even spends a night in the Cell for his mistakes.

He doesn’t know what to think about Chris and his intentions. It sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. But if it worked…

It wouldn’t take the blood off Felix’s hands, but it would be a start to something better. Felix has little thought for his own fate, undeserving as he is, but he thinks about Chris. Chris, the First Guard, who has been here the longest, who has watched the most people die, who has been punished the worst.

Chris deserves better.

Felix believes in Chris. He believes if Chris made an effort, then he would have what it takes to make a difference. Felix knows Chris is capable. He could do what he sets out to do.

It is not Chris that Felix worries about.

Felix observes Miroh’s daughter, studying her more closely than ever before. Felix trusts Chris’s general discretion but he worries Chris has a blind spot concerning her. They are the only two in their age category and they share a small barrack, the forced proximity undoubtedly creating a semblance of intimacy. Chris might trust her but Felix is not so biased. All he sees is Miroh.

Felix watches her. She doesn’t spend much time with Chris in public, her only close relationship with Seo Changbin. They are a bit notorious together. Felix would not call them the best fighters but they are tricky. He is pretty sure they throw their fights with each other and embellish more than necessary. Both like a good skull crash, more brutal than efficient. The trickery and brutality makes Felix more wary of her.

At the same time, her obvious friendship with Changbin shows she can care about someone else. The pair throw a mean punch but always patch each other up after.

Chris catches Felix watching them. They are having a go in the ring, punching and flipping, grinning when they think no one is watching. They have smiles just for each other.

“You look really deep in thought, mate,” Chris says, laughing. He hands Felix a water bottle while toweling down his own sweaty neck.

“Huh?” Felix finally breaks his concentration. He takes the water and smiles one of his instinctive but fake smiles – the kind he uses on a mission, when he is trying to convince an adversary that he is an innocent, unassuming kid.

Chris sees through it, of course. He lifts an eyebrow at Felix then follows his line of sight to the ring.

“What?” Chris says, laughing again. His own ears turn a little red as he teases, “You got a crush on her or something?”

“Ew, shut up,” Felix says, throwing his own towel at him. He feels flushed despite the fact it is vehemently untrue. He is not used to being provoked with that line of teasing. “No,” he says certainly. “I have no feelings for anyone. But I think they might.”

“Huh?” Chris looks between Felix and the ring. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at them,” Felix says. “They’re a little too close, don’t you think?”

Presently, Miroh’s daughter has Changbin pinned to the mat. She is on top of him and whispering something that makes them both snicker.

Chris stares at them. After a beat of contemplative silence, he laughs. Felix recognizes the fake sound, the same disarming humour Felix uses when conning someone.

“Yeah,” Chris says. “Hey, I’ll be right back, yeah?”

Felix watches Chris amble over. He says something to the duo and Changbin retaliates with some non-descript shouting and flailing. Miroh’s daughter rolls her eyes. She grabs Chris by the collar and yanks him into a fight.

The rest of the day progresses without much fuss or bother. Miroh has no jobs for them today so the schedule is just training and recuperation.

Felix manages to avoid punishment today. He tries expelling his anxiety in a fight but it does not fully work. Felix has come to realize he is not very good at letting go. Belief, emotion, the good, the bad: all of gets clutched in his fists and held to his heart.

Fighting tires him but it is not a satisfying tired, of exerted muscles and a pumping heart. He feels weary and everything everywhere is so loud, the chrome and steel of the Miroh facilities like an echoing dome. It cycles all that noise in an agonizing reverberation. It feels inescapable. He goes to the barracks which are smaller but it makes the claustrophobia worse.

Laying in his bunk, rubbing his temples, Felix dreams of a quiet room of his own.

It is then he remembers Chris’s hideaway. Chris miraculously dodged punishment today so he retreated to the barracks a while ago. Felix doesn’t want to disturb him but he figures Chris won’t mind him using the hideaway on his own if he’s careful.

They are permitted access to the training room for the few hours between work and mandatory repose. The hideaway is en route so it is easy for Felix to stealthily retrace his steps without raising suspicion. He disappears in the security blind spot the way Chris showed him.

Felix is in the tunnel when he hears a noise. He worries he was followed despite being so careful, but then he realizes the noise is ahead of him, not behind him.

He freezes in the crawl tunnel, trying to discern the sound. It doesn’t sound like talking, more like… breathing? Heavy breathing.

Then he hears a laugh that he recognizes as Chris. And he is not alone. The other noise is a sigh, a lighter, more feminine sound.

Oh.

Apparently, Chris’s hideaway is not just for talking to friends. The sound of kissing and sighing is more friendly than his conversation with Felix, that’s for sure.

Felix is frozen for a minute, too stunned and embarrassed to think of moving. He has to shuffle backwards to escape because he can’t turn in that part of the crawl space. If this was a mission, he could do it, but this is personal. He doesn’t want to get caught but it’s not because it will compromise any job; it’s because it will be awkward.

He scuffs his shoe in his backwards shuffle. It clangs, a subtle sound, but one that makes him wince.

It goes quiet around the corner. Felix knows he was heard and there is no time to escape. Seconds later, a frantic looking Chris is in the tunnel, red-faced with a line of sweat on his brow. His uniform is clearly dishevelled and Felix gets even more embarrassed.

Those feelings need somewhere to go. It comes out of him in a burst of frustration.

“What are you doing?” Felix demands, his voice breaking.

“Nothing!” Chris says, clearly a knee-jerk reaction. Then he takes a breath and says, “Look, I can explain—”

“It’s not Miroh’s daughter,” Felix says. He can’t even pose it as a question because he refuses to believe Chris could genuinely be that reckless and stupid. Befriending her is one thing – a stupid thing – but fooling around with the daughter of the powerful man who owns them is begging for tragedy.

“I’m not stupid,” Chris says.

“It doesn’t matter,” Felix says. “Whoever it is, you need to stop.”

“Look—”

“Seriously, Chris!”

“Felix—”

“It’s not worth it!”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Chris snaps. “You’re not normal and you don’t understand what it means to care about someone like that.”

It is obviously thoughtless, blurted in the head of the moment. It hurts anyway. Felix wonders if Chris can see the pain on his face because Chris looks immediately remorseful.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that—” Chris starts.

“It’s fine,” Felix says. “You’re right.”

“Felix—”

Felix pushes backwards and leaves without waiting for any protest. He does not stop, marching all the way back to this bunk. Anger and embarrassment have finally dissipated by the time he returns. It has been replaced with determination.

Chris is the best, but he has been compromised whether he wants to acknowledge it or not. He feels too much, for everyone and everything, and it will get him in even more trouble than he is already in. if he retaliates with thoughtless provocation when it’s just Felix confronting him, then what will he do when it’s Miroh and the stakes are even higher?

Chris said he would protect them all. He swore to succeed at any cost, including his own life. There is no one swearing the same for him. No one has ever protected him.

Felix is the second best. He has never left a job unfinished and for that he is not deserving of the protection Chris is offering.

It won’t clean the blood on his hands, but if Felix can save a life worth more than his own, then maybe it will start to justify all of this, all of him.

Chris was right. Felix is not normal. But he was wrong say that Felix doesn’t know what it means to care about someone. Because of Chris, Felix knows how to care. He knows what he has to do.

Chris can try and save them all.

Felix is going to save Chris.

P R E S E N T D A Y

Miroh’s main facility has fallen.

It sounds so dramatic for something so anticlimactic, like you are describing the collapse of a kingdom and not the shutdown of his main office operation.

It feels like an apocalyptic demise.

You and Chan fight your way out of the building, taking on the people who fight in your name. Your father’s name. Miroh.

Miroh is dead. Irrefutably broken, little more than a heap of meat on the tarmac. With him gone and the only named heir on the run – you – this facility will shut down to maintain security.

Miroh ran a meticulously compartmentalized business. There is protocol for everything so even if one part of his operation fell, the rest could continue unimpeded. Miroh tried to establish a legacy that could rival old money like his enemy, going so far as to predict his own demise. Miroh has long braced for the eventuality of his end, so he made sure his business could fracture and run without him.

He did everything in his power to make you just like him, a little broken fracture of himself to ensure that legacy. But then he could not actually face what he created. He could not actually let go. He was the only one with the perspective and power and he had to keep it that way.

Miroh would not have accounted for your rebellion, not for the sake of someone else. For a friend.

Flashes of the last twenty four hours play in your mind. You can hardly pinpoint the change in yourself. It feels like this was somehow inevitable, despite how much you would have balked at the idea before. But now it is all that matters. It’s all that makes sense in this chaos.

You have to find your friend. This facility will be empty in a matter of hours, but there are others. Changbin is in one of them. You have no idea where to start.

One thing at a time, you tell yourself. Before you can ruminate on anything behind or in front of you, you need to fight. You do not have time for introspection or planning. You need to get away. Away from this place, away from your dead father.

Away from his soldier, the First Guard, Bang Chan, who for some reason is helping you escape.

You don’t know why. You seriously doubt your barely coherent pleading broke the conditioning and literal torture that made him into this thing.

You don’t have time to find out. At the first opportunity, you break away, leaving him with a handful of operatives to fight. It should keep them all occupied while you escape.

You do not want to risk trapping yourself in an enclosed space, so you do not venture to the parking garage where the company vehicles are stored. Some of them will be programmed and bugged. You feel bad targeting a civilian, but stealing one of their cars is the safest bet. There are some administrative employees who complete menial tasks for the company, those with next to no clearance level. They park their personal cars around the facility. You pick one that is easy to reconfigure without a key to boot.

Minutes later, you are driving for an exit. Your whole body is aching but you push through it. There will be time to recuperate when you are in the clear.

Sirens wail and alarms blare, every security measure in action. Your escape is certainly not a clean one but it doesn’t matter. You just need to get away.

If you can get off the facility grounds, you can lose any adversaries in the back country roads. The route to the facility was intentionally designed to be a convoluted labyrinth, making it difficult for enemies to approach without giving the facility ample preparation time. You know the paths better than anyone. You can get away.

A soldier marches right into the middle of your escape path.

It is too brazen for a regular agent. They would not be so stupid to try that, knowing you would just barrel into them.

You speed closer and recognize the First Guard. Chan is unflinching as ever, standing in the middle of the road as if he intends to stop your car with his body. He is strong but not that strong. You know that. But he looks like an inhuman phantom, looming there in his combat gear and mask, unphased and unharmed despite the hour of nonstop violence.

But that’s not the reason you stop. You think about him in that van. You could only see his eyes but they were expressive, the tilt of his head inquisitive.

You slam on the brakes. The car stops inches from his body but he doesn’t even blink.

Your heart is racing, breath bursting in gasps. He strolls around the car as if he was just waiting for his ride.

Soldiering instinct propels your hands. You draw a gun as he opens the passenger-side door. He bends down and looks at you, his brow quirked with a silent question. Your hand shakes and he is too good not to notice. You know that, but a regular person would never guess because he does not take his eyes off yours.

He disarms you, faster than a blink. He drops into the passenger seat, then slams the door and shoves the gun in its storage compartment.

You stare at him. Your gaze follows the line of his stark profile. His hairline is a little sweaty but he doesn’t look out of breath.

You don’t know what to think.

This is the longest you have been in his company since you were kids in training. Your memory of him is insubstantial, having spent little to no time with him personally. But it hardly matters what he was. Now he’s a soldier above all soldiers, a shadow filling this small civilian car. He’s not the biggest man in the world but he’s overwhelming all the same, partially because of his uniform and partially because of his posture. He feels too big for this little human space. His knee hits the gear shift, his thighs bulky in the small seat, his shoulders broad where he leans back.

He looks across the car and meets your eyes. You think about how many people have met this gaze, maybe in a moment just like this, sitting across from Miroh’s asset in a little civilian vehicle before he put a bullet between their eyes or snapped their neck. You have seen the results of his missions even if you were not involved in them. The statistics and numbers speak for themselves. Those eyes have seen more death than life and right now they are resolutely focussed on you.

You jump when he lifts his hand. He says nothing but turns the rearview mirror in your direction. You reluctantly peel your gaze away from him. You see what he sees: a vehicle in rapid pursuit of your own.

“Shit,” you say. You shove the mirror back into place. Your hands collide for a split second.

You can’t linger on the weirdness of this moment, that the First Guard is your ally, sitting in the passenger seat and helping you escape.

You drive. The other vehicle chases you down. You get past the easy security measures, blowing past gates and guards. When you approach the last gate, Chan rolls down the window and twists his body. He pulls the stashed gun and aims somewhere. Your eyes are on the road so you don’t see exactly what he does, but the gate slams shut between you and the pursuing vehicle, trapping them on the other side.

Then it is just you, him, and the road.

He puts the gun away. He sits back. He rolls up the window. He makes it seem like a routine, still unphased while your heart pounds with adrenaline.

You do not look at him. You do not speak. You focus on escape, taking a convoluted path through the countryside just in case. When the facility is far, far behind you, you take a back road and pull into a shadowed space between some trees.

You slam to a stop, shift the gear to park, but keep the engine running. You clutch the steering so hard, you imagine it cracking beneath the force of your grip.

Chan still does not speak. The last time he spoke was on that rooftop. What now?

A damn good question.

You look at him. He is not sitting the way you would expect a machine of a man to be sitting. You would have thought the First Guard would sit straight-backed and braced for confrontation, but his slouch is almost insouciant. He sits with his knees apart, his body slanted where his elbow rests on the door. One gloved hand strums the door and the other is draped over his thigh. He looks at you without any expression you can interpret.

You are tired. Your body hurts. Your father is dead and the operation is changing and your only friend is suffering and you can’t do anything about any of it. This morning you held a modicum of control over your life – or you thought you did – and now everything has spiralled.

You know logically that Chan is a victim of Miroh, but right now it does not matter. He is an infuriating figure of composure, not to mention your father’s greatest weapon, and that combination snaps the elastic thread of your patience, already stretched to its limits.

“Take off the fucking mask,” you say.

He stares at you, his expression still unreadable. You are tempted to reach across and rip the mask off his face. You would definitely not succeed, no match for his reflexes on a good day, but logic is inconsequential in the face of your emotions.

He doesn’t test you. He stares for another moment then raises one gloved hand. He unhooks the mask and peels it off. He runs the other hand over his face and through his hair.

You are not sure what you were expecting. The same brown eyes stare back at you, lined with a smudged shadow to look as dark and intimidating as possible. His brows are thick and dark, his hair as black, sweat loosening the slick style so a single curly tuft falls over his forehead.

You follow the slope of his nose down to his mouth. His mouth is closed and he is not smiling. He has full lips, almost too pretty for what he is. Glancing at that mouth on that too-pretty face, you picture a dimple smiled. The memory is almost a blur, a smear of an image over his face. You blink and it’s gone, his stoic face staring back at you.

“What is it?” he says. His voice is like the rest of him, too big in this small space. You swear it shakes the car and the earth under it, though that is ridiculous. It’s just a voice. He’s just a man.

Except he’s not. He’s something else, something that should not have done what he did. You have a million questions. You need those answers before you can continue but it all jumbles together in your head. It’s all too much, the flashes of today, of the past, of an uncertain future full of even more violence.

You finally turn off the engine and get out of the car. You have no intention of going anywhere, but you need space.

You pace in a long line, breathing in and out, using every trick in the book to ease your racing heart. After a minute, you hear the passenger door open. You look over your shoulder at Chan.

You can’t help the instinctive reaction to measure him like an adversary. It doesn’t help he has pummelled you twice in the last few months, not to mention his horrid reputation in an already horrid place. It would be stupid not to brace yourself.

He approaches you cautiously. He has the gall to raise a hand like you are the wild thing and he is the tamer.

“Easy,” he says. His voice is not so booming out here. Other than the dark combat uniform, he almost looks normal, his whole face open to you, eyes narrowed with intense focus.

It makes you breathe harder, the exhale shaky. He notices because he tries to placate you.

He smiles.

It is forced and unpracticed, but there are those dimples, just like you thought. You would have been less startled if he bared his teeth like an animal. The smile unnerves you, undoing all the calming work of your exercises.

“It’s all right,” he says in a frighteningly gentle voice. He tilts his head as he looks at you. “It’s just me, yeah?”

Just him. Like that should comfort you. You suppose you can marginally see things from his perspective, that maybe he has proved himself. After all, he helped you escape. It is obvious he is not doing this for your father or he would not have let you kill him. This is not part of a grand plan. There is no strategy. It’s all over.

It’s just you and him.

It does not comfort you the way he evidently thinks it should. Now is the time to ask those million questions, but you are beyond words. You are a live wire and that pitiful attempt at a truce ignites a flare of angry sparks.

You were built to fight. It punches out of you. Literally.

Chan is faster than you. He dodges your swing with ease, fast as an electric current himself.

“Hey now,” he says, holding out both hands. “Don’t—”

You know you can’t win this fight. You know it’s stupid to try. But each swing flies out of you, instinctive as breathing. He catches every blow, bats your hands out of the way, but he doesn’t swing back. His refusal to fight infuriates you. It makes you feel as helpless as you are.

An aggravated cry spills out of you, a strain behind your eyes as you take another swing.

“Stop it,” he snaps, his smile gone.

He finally goes on the offense, catching your hands and pinning them down. There is a moment of struggle before you feel the driver door at your backside, his body caging you in. You rear up against him but he holds you down, hip to hip, hand to hand.

“I said stop it,” he says. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” you ask, voice breaking. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Your chest is pressed against his, moving with your breath while he stands like an ungiving wall. You glare at him and he stares back. His brow furrows in seeming confusion. He closes both eyes and breathes out, a steadying breath.

You thought seeing him lose composure would make you feel better, but you feel worse, more unnerved than before.

He looks at you, a muscle in his jaw feathering when he clenches it. You stare at it as he releases you.

“You must know I can’t trust you,” you say.

You make the mistake of lifting your hands to shove him away. You do not intend to punch him again, the worst of that aggression gone, but he doesn’t know that. You suppose you can’t blame him for his instincts after your demonstration.

When you lift your hands, he grabs your wrists. Swiftly and effortlessly, he pins your hands by your head.

“Oh,” he says. His eyebrows lift and his face is far more expressive than you expected. “I’m the one who can’t be trusted, right?”

“Excuse me?” you snap.

“I’m doing my job, yeah,” he says. “Yesterday you were running jobs for Daddy and today you shot him dead. Wanna talk about erratic behaviour? Wanna talk about who’s unpredictable? About who can trust who here?”

Your mouth parts with a useless, breathless rebuttal, stammering and empty. You didn’t expect that many words from him, not when he has been a silent shadow for so long. Never mind the easy, casual speech, every colloquialism and the taunting hurl of daddy. It makes you think of that scathing, troublesome boy he once was, as sharp with his tongue as everything else. But he is not that boy. You know for a fact he was broken. He has done all those jobs for Miroh without causing any strife in the operation. He is a weapon and nothing more. He exists to follow orders.

Until today. Until you.

“So?” you finally say, because what else can you say?

“So?” he repeats.

“So.” You have those million questions, but there is only one that really matters. “What are we? Soldiers without a general? Because right now it seems like we’re two people who have no reason to trust each other and no reason to work together.”

Your gazes are locked and you measure each other. Not that you are much of a threat to him. He has you pinned with very little effort. If you were at your fighting best, you like to think it would be a little challenge, but right now you stand no chance against him.

But he doesn’t want to hurt you or he would have done it already.

He drops your hands. He doesn’t step away, still regarding you with that scrutinous eye, but it is a menial demonstration of trust.

You drop your arms. You stare back at him, refusing to show the depth of your weakness. You think his body might be keeping yours upright, your legs so weak. You do everything in your power to keep your wild emotions in check, to keep the tears in the back of your eyes. You breathe deeply.

“I’ll help you find your friend,” Chan says, the last thing you expect him to say. You can only watch as he sighs and speaks. “You were my last mission,” he says. “Miroh told me to bring you in. I did. He wanted me to watch you. I am. He wanted me to be your—” He laughs but it is not a happy sound, dry and devoid of pleasure. “Your bodyguard, I guess.” He shakes his head. “Consider this me following orders,” he says. “That’s what I do, yeah? I follow orders. And I don’t leave a job unfinished. Ever.”

“And Miroh?” you say tentatively. “The fact I killed him?”

He shrugs dramatically, hands open in surrender.

“Miroh didn’t make me his bodyguard,” Chan says. “He made me yours.”

It is such preposterously simple logic that you laugh, a disbelieving bark of a sound. You look around at nothing, like the answer to your ridiculous circumstance is in the trees or the road.

When you look at Chan, he is still looking at you, his brow quirked inquisitively.

“Well?” he says. “Is that enough? Can we work together to finish this last job?”

“Your job,” you say slowly. You meet his eyes. “So that’s what I am to you?”

It’s meant to be an easy question with a reassuring answer. He is a soldier. You are his job. He will do what you ask. It’s as simple as that.

He tilts his head as he looks at you. His contemplation is too heavy. It was a simple question for a simple soldier who should speak no language outside of missions and reports.

His gaze is searing and it makes your heart skip a startled beat.

“Yes,” he says. He speaks the word like it’s exhausting to say out loud. It lands with a thud on an exhale. “My job.”

His forearm is planted by your head. His other hand grips your bicep. He is keeping you in place with his hips and thighs. You can feel the tension in his body.

You have no idea why you do what you do. It comes from the same place as those desperate punches. You know it’s useless, you know nothing will come of it, but you ride the propulsion of adrenaline. Your body, on the brink of desperation, has been pushed to its utmost capabilities in the last couple hours. What does it want? What do you want?

What did you ever really want?

You kiss him.

It shocks you both. Unlike the punch, he does not know how to retaliate. He stands there, breathing into your mouth. He is neither encouraging nor withdrawing.

You stop quickly and wipe your mouth. Mortification sets in.

None of this is like you. You blame stress. Your body is confused and hurt. You need recuperation. Whether you like it or not, you need comfort too. It is a deep internal call, only human. But you won’t be getting that from the solid, inhuman wall around you.

You push at that wall and it finally gives. Chan steps back. You doubt a punch would have moved him so easily as that kiss.

“Ignore that,” you say. “Adrenaline. I’m still – not right.”

He just stares, once more a silent shadow. You breathe out in a huff.

“Okay,” you say. “And we’re back to the staring. At least I know you’re still working.”

You turn to open the car door, effectively ending the tense exchange. Chan walks away. He silently circles the car to reach the passenger door. You look at his face, once more stoic and expressionless. He doesn’t look at you, dropping into the vehicle without another glance or sound.

You close your eyes. You take another deep breath of fresh air.

Maybe this is good. Maybe Chan is the ally you need right now. Someone level, someone only concerned with mission parameters. Someone who will not become compromised because of emotion.

Because you are very compromised.

You are not thinking clearly. You need a plan and some water and rest.

You get in the car. You start the engine. You don’t speak another word.

You drive for hours, wanting distance between you and the destruction.

The silence in the car is piercing, your head aching after the first hour. The little space acts like an echo chamber for your tumultuous thoughts. You keep replaying the day, every death and cry. You think about your security team strewn across those stairs, just another casualty in Miroh’s game. You think about your father, the unplanned murder but the utter lack of regret in your heart.

You think about Changbin. Your reckless side wants to look for him right now. You cannot stand to waste another second. Based on your father’s words, he could be anywhere, subject to any number of horrors. But despite the whirlwind tempest of your mind, there is a soldier inside you and she is more pragmatic. You are in no condition to fight. Even if you knew Changbin’s exact location, you would be no use to him. You need to rest, formulate a legitimate plan, then attack.

You can’t afford to make any mistakes. Better than anyone, you know the forces you are up against.

You pull into a highway fill-up station at dusk. The car needs fuel and so do you. There is a little shop near the fuel pumps, the place deserted other than the bored cashier behind the counter.

There was some cash in the glove box, enough for necessities. You will inevitably need to steal or manipulate, but you prefer to lay low tonight. You were careful to avoid traffic cameras and security tv as you exited the previous city. By the time the car is reported and Miroh’s operation works out your connection, you will be off the grid.

You turn off the engine and reach for the wallet. Chan snatches it first.

“What are you doing?” is spoken in unison.

“I’m going to buy us some fucking water and food,” you say.

“Are you? Really?” He gives you a pointed up-and-down look. “You gonna do that looking like you just played cannonball with a cement wall?”

You have not gotten a good look at yourself, just a flash in the rearview mirror, but he is probably right. You feel like utter shit so you must look it too.

“Well, you can’t go in there either,” you say. Even without the mask, he is clearly in an unusual uniform. A bored clerk will remember a terrifying soldier in combat clothes marching through his shop.

Chan flashes you a dimpled smile, frighteningly charming.

“Sure I can,” he says. “Just have to blend in.”

Your eyes widen as he discards both gloves then opens the neck of his shirt. You stare as he efficiently strips off his top layers.

If he looked powerful in the uniform, he looks as just as intimidating without it. He doesn’t boast gargantuan proportions but he doesn’t need it. There is lethal strength to the rolling musculature of his sturdy body.

You shouldn’t care. Soldiers strip all the time, long assignments and shared compartments making it an inevitability. But Chan is not just another soldier. In your head, he is that living shadow, covered all the way up to his eyes in the Miroh black and blue. Seeing all that skin is a startling reminder of the man under the mask.

You find Chan watching you, amused. That stupid eyebrow is quirked again.

“What?” you snap.

“Nothing,” he replies. “Be right back. Don’t miss me too bad.”

You roll your eyes, slumping in your seat as he gets out of the car. You have half a mind to drive away but you are pretty sure he would find a way to manifest at your destination anyway.

You watch as he enters the shop in a nonchalant stroll, wearing just his pants and boots. He waves at the cashier and says something that makes him laugh.

To his credit, Chan looks like a regular guy on a hot day, casually perusing a gas station shop. He makes small talk with the cashier and they laugh some more.

You knew Chan was a good soldier but you didn’t expect him to be such a good agent too. He is probably better at the civilian act than you. You are standoffish and opt for a quiet demeanour, blending in through invisibility rather than a persona.

Chan walks in and out, the cashier unaware of the nature of his customer. You return to the road with a full of tank of gas and some sustenance.

“Are you going to put your shirt back on?” you ask.

He gives you a side-eye as he shrugs the outermost layer back on. He doesn’t do it up. You refuse to act like a glimpse of his bare chest means anything to you.

Except it does. When he sits there with his knee against the console and his skin showing and a tuft of hair over his forehead, he looks like a person. He is a person, one who has been subject to some of the worst horrors of Miroh’s operation.

There is no denying Chan is a complicated figure, unwillingly complicit in atrocities. He acts like a normal person with a fully cognizant mind, but you just witnessed for yourself how easily he can fake that. You do not know how much of the real Bang Chan is actually inside him.

“Chan,” you say after a long time. The sun has almost fully set, the sky in its navy gloaming.

“Yeah?” he says.

There are no words that suffice. You could give an entire speech and it would be virtually meaningless.

“I’m sorry,” you say, leaving the breadth of the apology up to his interpretation. You keep your eyes on the endless miles of highway that stretch ahead. There is a long journey in front of you. There is a longer road behind you.

The car is illuminated with golden light from passing cars and overhead lamps. It flashes over his face in the deepening darkness.

“Don’t be,” Chan says. He crosses his arms in a protective position, looking out his window though there is nothing to see but the highway and passing cars. “None of this was your fault,” he says.

You laugh, a similar humourless sound to his earlier laughter.

“That’s not entirely true,” you say, thinking of all the missions you deliberately ran for Miroh. You thought you could make it mean something. You were just like your father, believing the ends would justify the means. You never tortured Chan yourself, but you were part of the operation that kept him in chains. There was nothing you could do to save him, but you certainly never tried.

He looks at you. You hear him move, the crinkle of his clothes, the water bottle he twists in his grip.

“I don’t blame you, you know,” he says. “Seriously. Today was crazy. Everything’s crazy. You’re not responsible for it.”

“I’m not not responsible,” you say. “My team is dead. My friend is gone. My dad – well, you can’t say I didn’t do that.”

“He had that one coming,” Chan says, his laugh a little more real. “No offense, but your dad kinda sucked.”

You find yourself laughing more genuinely too.

“Yeah,” you say. “I think we can agree on that.”

You fall into silence but it is more comfortable than before. There has been an undeniable tension since the moment he climbed in this car, looking at you with questioning confusion as you pointed a gun at him. You were panicking but he must have been equally bewildered. To him, you were a mission. He lives by his orders.

“I should apologize to you,” he says.

You look at him with obvious surprise. He meets your gaze, his expression sincere if not a little chagrined. His dimples show with a faint smile but it is not very happy.

“I’ve been an ass,” he says. “Today was – well.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Trust me,” you say. You try to lighten the mood with your tone. “I’m a Miroh. You will never have to apologize to me for as long as you live.”

He doesn’t laugh or even force that pretend sound. He stares ahead, his gaze sorrowful and faraway.

“Sorry, that was—” you begin.

He forces a smile and shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says. “Truce?”

Smiling feels awkward and your injuries probably make you a terrifying sight. But he accepts it, nodding at you. The car does not feel like such a claustrophobic space after that. The air is clear as it can be, considering who you are.

Neither of you has an identity right now. You were tethered to the same monstrosity and now it is gone. Everything is different.

You are too tired for another late-night heart-to-heart. It is time for rest.

There is enough cash for a cheap motel room. You find a quiet inn off the highway, sequestered beyond trees and countryside fields. You finally look at yourself properly in the bathroom mirror. You decide Chan’s earlier remarks were a severe understatement. You look like a battleground more than a soldier.

You injures will repair themselves with time, but it is a grisly sight. You shower for now. The soap and water helps.

You don the same shirt and underwear. New clothes will be a necessity. You mentally plan tomorrow, everything you will need to accrue before you formulate an attack. You have already mentally plotted the closest facilities, but you will need to verify their function and security protocol before striking.

You are mentally strategize as you exit the bathroom. You are distracted, thinking nothing of the fact you are wearing underwear and a shirt.

Chan already showered because you insisted, knowing you would take longer with your injuries. He is sitting on one of the single beds, sorting through his weapons. There is the gun you stole from Miroh plus his own array of armaments, things so well hidden you did not realize he even had them. They are laid out on the bed. He sits at the foot in his combat pants and nothing else, his dark hair damp and face bare.

You stroll past him, feeling his eyes as they lift from a gun to your bare legs. Now that you have scrubbed the worst of the brutality from your body, you feel like something of a person again. His flicker of attention ignites an undeniable spark in your belly. At first, it startles you, because the First Guard is the absolute last person you should ever think of like that.

But then you look at him. He has turned his eyes back to his work, saying nothing as he reloads the gun with second-nature efficiency. He is holding a weapon but, despite his conditioning, he is just a man.

You are a grounded person. You keep your head down and go about your tasks with confident certainty. He is here, you are here, it has been a long day, and it is not unusual for soldiers to seek comfort before the dawn of a new fight. Comfort is as important in healing and recuperation as anything else.

You sit on your own bed and look at him. He is effortlessly attractive with his dark hair and dark eyes, the sloping muscle of his firm body. You trace his chest and abdomen with your eyes. He does not lift his gaze, his attention on the gun.

“Do you want to fuck?” you ask.

Bang Chan is the best soldier in the force. You are pretty sure he has never fumbled a weapon quite so spectacularly. It clatters to the floor and he kicks it under your bed.

“What!” he says. He doesn’t look at you as he retrieves the gun, laughing a comically nervous giggle. “Um… what?” he asks again. Before you can answer, he shakes his head. “That’s uh, wait. Um. No. Bad idea, right? I mean—”

“It’s just a suggestion,” you say, not really offended. “It’s been a long day. It doesn’t mean anything. We’re both adults here.”

As you say it, you consider his circumstances. Chan has spent his entire life in the house of Miroh. He is not innocent but he might be inexperienced. This man has killed dozens of people and worked dozens of dangerous operations. His body is built for violence, not pleasure, and certainly not his own.

You find yourself blurting, “Have you ever…?”

“Yes,” he says firmly, brow furrowing with annoyance.

“All right, all right, just asking,” you say. You decide not to push the topic because it clearly makes him uncomfortable. You just cleared the air and you don’t want to muddy it again.

You change the topic swiftly. You make some empty remark about the weather as you turn on the small television. It’s an old contraption, buzzing with static as it flickers to life.

Chan resumes his work. He puts his head down to concentrate.

Your gaze inevitably strays to him.

His hair dries curly. It feels like an unusual thing to know about the First Guard. He looks so much younger with a clean face.

You jump when that face lifts. He looks at you.

“It wasn’t… you know…” There is a hunch to his shoulders, his eyes dropping to his work. “I just did it on missions, ya know?”

“Did it,” you say. “On missions.” It doesn’t register right away, partly because you are tired and partly because you did not expect him to continue this conversation. “You mean sex?” you ask. “You had sex on missions?”

“I had sex for missions,” he corrects, eyes on the weapon he is disassembling. He is acting like the conversation is meaningless, his attention divided, but you know his task does not require that degree of concentration. He could take that thing apart in perfect darkness.

“For missions,” you repeat. “What, like a honeypot type scheme? You?”

It seems ridiculous at first. You picture the First Guard smashing through windows and tackling you in stairwells. There is nothing seductive about that raw violence. But then you look at the man in front of you, young and handsome, the one who so easily charmed that cashier while pretending he was someone else. You picture him in a suit and tie, maybe a t-shirt and jeans. He would be devastating with the right preparation.

Chan is the best. Maybe it shouldn’t surprise you he would excel regardless of the scheme.

“Something like that,” he says. He finally loads the magazine. “It wasn’t so bad, though. Seriously.” He twirls the gun with an effortless flourish. The grip finds his palm like the pistol is a part of him. “Trust me. My body was used for worse things. You get that too, yeah?”

You suppose you relate well enough. You were raised in the same program, put through the same grueling regimen. You have done things and you are not proud of them all. Your circumstances are not the same, though. You are each uniquely situated in your positions, even if you started in the same place.

We’re all that’s left.

Changbin’s voice in your head causes your mind to drift.

“What about you?” Chan asks, drawing you back to the conversation.

“Me?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “You.”

The First Guard is asking you about your sex life. You woke this morning in a safe house and put on combat gear, ready for another mundane day of field work. Somewhere in the middle of that was a cascade of violence. Now Bang Chan is asking about your sexual proclivities. If you weren’t so exhausted, you would laugh.

“I mean, nothing special,” you say, sufficing for the boring truth. “Mostly just this. Sex doesn’t really mean anything to me. It’s like exercise. Long nights on a job. You know. Fellow soldiers on a mission. Sometimes a civilian hook-up.”

You can’t parse the expression on his face. His gaze is somewhat judgemental, or maybe it is just scrutinizing, intensely focussed. It bristles your nerves. Your tone is more derisive when you say, “I’m not a romantic.” You hold his intense stare in your own. “Sex is just a bodily function to me. Sometimes the body needs the release or the pleasure or whatever, so I satisfy it and move on. That’s who I am. I work. I get the job done. That’s what I have always done.”

What you always did. You are not sure how to describe yourself anymore. You nonetheless punctuate that definitive statement. You assume that is the end of the conversation.

Then Chan asks, “So there’s… no one… for you?”

If he was any other soldier, you would think he was angling for flirtation, but he just turned down your very blatant offer. You do not know why he has any motivation to ask such personal and irrelevant questions.

It is not worth the argument. You conclude with a simple, “No.”

He nods, rocking his whole body with the force of his too-casual gesture. The tips of his ears are red, though your gaze does not stay there. You are quickly distracted by his bicep. He lifts an arm to rub the back of his neck, muscles softly rippling. His brazen questioning coupled with his awkward shyness is incongruous.

You think it is unlikely you will ever understand this man. He has been taken apart and put back together too many times. Fragments of him seem to fire all at once and in great contradiction.

“What about Changbin?” he asks. “He must be pretty special to you. Ya know, for you to have done all this for him.”

You are simultaneously struck by repulsion and sentiment. Changbin is very special and you regret not realizing it sooner. He has always been at your side, taking hits to protect you well before he became your bodyguard. He is the person who kept you smiling. You understood each other on a different level. His friendship was a rare gift and you took it for granted. Now you would do anything to have it back.

But also…

It’s Changbin. Ew. You are an only child but you feel a brotherly affection for him. Picturing him in any other context is nauseating. It just feels wrong.

You have such a visceral reaction of disgust that Chan laughs. He puts up his hands as if in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry, my bad,” he says. “Just friends, then?”

“Yes,” you say. “Though there’s nothing just about it.”

You have replayed that rooftop exchange a hundred times, torturing yourself with every possible outcome. If only you did this, if only he did that. You rearrange every second, trying to find a version with a different ending.

You wonder how he will react when he finds out what you did. Aha, murder princess living up to her name! he might say. The old man should have seen it coming. I knew you could it, but of course I did. I’m so much smarter and better looking than everyone else here.

You smile at the idea but it fades quickly.

Changbin was with you last night. He was sitting within arm’s reach, his scar under your fingertips. Now he could be anywhere and it’s all your fault. Not just because of the rooftop mistakes, but because of every mistake you made before that.

You exhale. Your shoulders shake. Chan watches you close a fist around a pillow.

“You all right?” he asks.

“I’m ending it,” you say.

“Sorry, what?”

“I always thought Miroh was an inevitability.” You are speaking out loud but mostly to yourself. Your gaze is fixed on some distant point, your mind and heart miles away. “But he wasn’t,” you say. “No more soldiers. No more experiments. No more bribes and theft and terror. My father is dead and I am going to do what I should have done a long time ago. I am going to make sure his work dies with him.”

You look at Chan. A day ago, you both existed for Miroh. Now you are two people planning to dismantle an empire from a motel room and a stolen car.

“Do you have a problem with that?” you ask.

A part of you is braced for the worst, that he will reject it, that he will revert to some kind of conditioned programming and drag you back to a facility for condemnation.

Even while you think it, you know it won’t happen. The eyes staring back at you are as clear as your own.

“I’m just the bodyguard,” Chan says. “I go wherever you go. Always.”

You feel invigorated to start now, but you are tired beneath the burst of adrenaline. You need to let your body heal.

The room is dark and you doze in the light of the television. After a couple hours, you roll over and find Chan is still awake. He is laying on his bed, arms crossed and eyes open. He is watching the shopping channel, ad after ad after ad, with far more intensity than it merits. His mind must be somewhere else. You can only imagine what he is thinking about.

You wonder how much he knows about himself. He responded to your half-coherent treasonous pleading. Does he remember hating Miroh? Or is he truly only helping you because of mission parameters?

It is easy to forget when he is a bare-faced, curly-haired young man slouching in a motel bed, but Bang Chan is lethally competent. He knew all of Miroh’s innermost schemes. It will come in handy now, but it makes him an irrevocably dark character, whether it was willing or not.

You wonder how much Changbin would trust him.

Wait.

You were so distracted with your plans, you did not question a moment in your conversation.

Chan mentioned Changbin.

You never told Chan the identity of your friend. When you were pleading with him, you just called him a friend.

Maybe Chan heard you talking to your father. Maybe he knows about your relationships because that was his job. Maybe he just guessed because Changbin volunteered himself in the ring.

Maybe Bang Chan remembers more than he is letting on.

You fall asleep to the soft drone of the television. Your mind is walking in circles and you dream of similar rings. Nightmares of chrome cages and steel traps, a suffocating helplessness squeezing your ribcage.

In your dreams, the room fills with smoke, a charcoal smog that chokes you as quickly as the compression on your chest. You look down but you can’t see your body, only feel it. Your invisible body struggles against invisible bindings. You gasp for breath.

Your father appears. It is him holding you down, a heavy hand in the middle of your chest. You cry out. You want to move but your body is trapped.

You close your eyes. When you open them, Changbin is there. He is still a teenager. His head is bleeding – why is his head bleeding? – but he wipes the blood as if it’s nothing more than sweat, all his focus on you.

Of course it is. He’s your friend. He’s here to save you. How did you not see it before? It’s like you have been moving through the world in a fog, the same grey smoke that envelopes you now. His face is the only clear image, gawky with youth but alive and real.

The weight is lifted off your chest. Black spots swarm your vision as you suck in a lungful of air.

When you look again, Changbin is grown. He looks like he did a day ago, dark bangs in his eyes, stocky build ready for a fight.

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

Not leaving here.

His voices dances around you. You are trapped in your body, a screaming, shrieking force, watching through dead eyes as the world spins. People pass but they don’t hear you. You try to reach for someone but your body doesn’t respond to your thoughts.

A labyrinthine stretch of road unfurls then disappears. You are standing in the infirmary at the main facility. You stare at yourself, the younger version of you. You are already dead behind the eyes, resigned to your situation. There are masked doctors around you. A tray full of needles. You watch as the long point penetrates your skin. You’re just a child, arm so small in comparison.

Your child face contorts with pain, an expression your adult face cannot mimic because you cannot control your face.

You remember the pain, even if you cannot cry. It was like nothing you had ever felt. The pain meant it was working. The medicant was only administered to you when it had been thoroughly tested. The first injection killed every subject except one. The second program was a success.

The children were writhing in pain for weeks, screaming and crying, begging for parents that never came. Yours did, looming over your bedside, touching your feverish forehead and speaking through the fog of pain.

An investment, Miroh called it. You’ll thank me one day.

Changbin is there. He is a child too. They put a needle in his skinny arm. He winces but he doesn’t cry. He isn’t scared of the needles or the pain, but he isn’t eager either. He is just there, his head down.

You blink and he is grown. The needle is still in his arm, only it is not an injection but an extraction. You watch the fullness of his face wither. They are taking too much. He becomes a child again, screaming in pain.

The same pain moves inside you.

No, worse.

Worse.

You never could have imagined a worse pain. It courses through your whole body, peeling apart your insides while you lay there, helpless, watching.

Your father stands over you. You’ll thank me one day.

He disappears. For a flickering moment, you see Bang Chan. Curly-haired, dimpled cheeks. He stutters and shakes like a bad film projection. His face contorts, changes. Wide dark eyes stare at you, his face covered in rain – water – tears? Pouring down his cheeks, mouth open and a mute cry in the grey.

You want to touch him but you cannot move. His face flickers again. You feel a tiny, infinitesimal twitch in your pinky.

Then he disappears altogether. Your father is there. He grabs you by the shoulders and slams you down, straight through the earth, holding you there in the darkness where no one can find you and you cannot move.

“Hey—” comes a voice, somehow reaching you in the depths of that pit. “Hey, hey, hey, wake up.”

In your dream, your father shoves you.

In reality, you are thrashing in a motel bed.

It takes a minute to realize you are awake, that everything was just a terrible dream. Your adrenaline is a white hot heat in your chest, your voice a strangled shriek as you clamour around the twisting sheets.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Chan says. “You’re just dreaming, whoa, easy, c’mon… It’s all good. Easy now. Breathe for me, okay?”

It feels like your first breath in years. It goes down shaky, your vision blurry. You realize Chan is holding your wrist, lightly but carefully. You blink up at him. He turned on the bedside light at some point. Half his face is lit in gold as he looks at you with concern. It is such a strange expression to see on him. These were the same eyes glaring at you over that uniform mask. Now that brow is pinched with worry, his own breath a staggered thing.

“You all right?” he asks.

You are sitting upright. You look at your wrist in his hand.

“Did I try to punch you again?” you ask.

“You missed,” he says, smiling. Then he shakes his head and says more seriously, “It was my fault. You were yelling in your sleep so I woke you up. I guess it was too fast or something. Just, you know, I don’t think the walls are very thick here.”

“Right,” you say. Your heart is still stampeding. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he says. “You… you good…?”

“Yeah,” you say. You are too weary for patience, so sarcasm spills out of you. “Peachy.”

He opens his mouth but you don’t wait to hear it. You slide out of bed and land on shaky legs. Your whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat. You want to shower, wash away the nightmare and the terror.

You are a light sleeper. You never dream like that. It is a testament to your exhaustion that you fell into such a deep sleep.

You tell yourself it was a dream, but your reassurances don’t work. Because it wasn’t really a dream, was it? It was flashes of real moments, real faces, real pain.

You stand under steady stream of hot water. You watch as the heat and the torrent opens a few scrapes, the water at your feet turning red. You think of Changbin with a needle in his arm, all that red pouring out of him. Standing there, helpless to do anything, like you are right now.

You have no idea where he is. You look at the scar on your palm and think of him in the moonlight, him in the ring, him at your side. A smile, a joke, a reassurance. A hand in yours, a promise.

He knew you better than you know yourself. He predicted this exact crisis of identity.

When it’s just you and you’re trying to decide who you want to be, not who your father wants you to be… When you’re trying to remember everything and you can’t decide what was real and what was just training and what was Miroh…

He drew that line across his palm. You picture a chasm of a wound, gaping and red, rushing red at your feet.

Just remember me, he said. I didn’t bleed because I believe in Miroh. I’m your soldier, not his.

True to his word, a man of principle to the end, he is bleeding for you right now.

In all your years of training, fighting, and soldiership, of missions and schemes, tricks and plots, you have always kept composure. Now it all weighs on you at once, every single second of your life, and it’s too much.

When was the last time you cried? You can’t even remember. It pours out of you now, big ugly gasping sobs that spill into the shower. You sit down where the water is pooling in pink. You wrap your arms around your legs and draw them up to your chest like a child.

You do not know how long you sit there, crying until it feels like there is no more water left in your body. It must be a long time because the water runs from hot to lukewarm. It feels strange to heave dry sobs with the shower still pouring down on you.

The water abruptly stops. You lift your head.

Chan stands there. He doesn’t look at you directly, his expression solemn, but he turns off the water and gets you a towel.

It feels surreal. Bang Chan is moving around a small motel bathroom, helping you like he has helped you all day. You stare at him with scrunched, sore eyes, your throat too strained to speak. You drop your legs and let him wrap the towel around you. Your heart kicks with momentary fright when he scoops you up, an effortless sweep.

No one has ever done something like this for you. You wouldn’t have let them, even if they tried.

You need it. You never realized how much you needed it. You are certain you will feel embarrassed in the morning, but right now you put your arms around his neck and cling for dear life.

He says nothing. He hooks an arm around your back and the other under your legs. He carries you back into the room and lays you in your bed, adjusting the towel for your modesty before pulling the blankets over you.

You continue to sputter and hiccup, looking at him as he moves. You wonder if he looks like this on a mission, determined and swift.

No. The First Guard wouldn’t fix the pillows under your head. He wouldn’t tuck the blankets around you.

Bang Chan stands over you, wearing nothing but his combat pants, no weapons or masks or piercing stares. He has curly dark hair and a soft face. When you touch his bare shoulder, he looks at you with a heart-shattering amount of tenderness. You didn’t know anyone could look at somebody that way, never mind him, never mind at you.

There’s a person inside him. There’s a person inside you. You don’t know who either of those people are, but you want to know. You need to know.

You curl your hand into a fist and feel the scar on your palm. A day ago, none of this would have mattered, but you know why it matters now.

“We have to find him,” you say. Your rasping voice is barely above a whisper.

Chan slowly cups his hand over yours, his palm to your knuckles, holding your touch against his shoulder. He squeezes your fingers. He nods.

“We will,” he says.

“You’ll help me?” you say.

“Yeah.” His own voice is a rasp, skirting the edge of emotion too. He swallows it down and smiles at you. “Like I said. I go wherever you go. Always.”

He sits with you in the soft golden light of that small bedside lamp. You do not think you can sleep again, but then exhaustion settles over you.

You are on the cusp of sleep when he touches your forehead. Your eyes meet briefly. It wakes you with a heart flutter, similar to a dream that drops you into reality. It is the heart-racing thump of a sudden fall. The kind that feels so real, more like a memory than a dream.

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x you #stray kids x you #bang chan fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction

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mrsriddlenott · 6 months

Text

The Sixth Day Of Smutmas

[smutmas masterlist] [main masterlist]

~ Secret Santa ~

bsf!Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius gets your name for Secret Santa and decides to prank you by having you open a dildo in front of all your friends. However, he’s shocked and flustered when you jokingly say you’re grateful and you’ll need it since your sex life is stale. In private, Sirius tells you he’d like to change that.

Warnings: 18+ Content!! Language, Alcohol, SexToys(not used),Size Kink,Smut, Unprotected PinV, Creampie, Kinda Public Sex.

Your face went hot as you slowly unwrapped the box in front of you and began to realize exactly what it was, you were positive your cheeks were bright red as you removed enough of the wrapping paper for the whole group to see the red and white striped dildo in it’s box.

“Oh….wow,” Your eyes widened as you realized the sheer size of the object, “That’s much bigger than I’m used to.” You joked, thinking about who would possibly get you this as everyone around you laughed. “Okay I don’t know. Who got it for me?”

“Well I did of course.” Sirius pipes up proudly with a snicker, “I saw it and thought of you.” You felt like it should have pissed you off as it was clearly an attempt to embarrass you, but it didn’t. The thought of Sirius, your absolute best friend, thinking of you using the sex toy and wanting to watch you get embarrassed was honestly turning you on. You knew you had to say something that resembled a come back as your friends watched you, suppressing giggles as Sirius’ eyes locked into yours tauntingly from the couch across you.

“Jeez, thank you Siri, I don’t know how you knew I needed one. I may actually use it, I haven’t had sex in months y’know.” You laughed to yourself as your friends joined in, laughing even harder when you saw Sirius’ wide eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulped and leant back on the sofa, spreading his legs and taking up far too much room as his eyes followed you to your room where you tossed the object inside onto your bed.

As the night continued, Sirius found it difficult to take his eyes off of you, if he was being honest he always found himself staring at you, but after your comment about his gift it increased ten fold. His brain filled with images of you alone at night chasing a high you couldn’t reach with some tiny pathetic dildo, he loved the idea of you pleasing yourself on his gift, filling you up more than you ever had been. When you eventually flopped down on the couch beside him, clutching your wine glass in one hand as you tugged your legs up under you, facing him entirely as his arm draped along the back of the couch by your side his fantasies intensified. “You’ve been quiet tonight, what’s up?”

His brain clouded with your scent, filling with thoughts of you below him, whining as he stretched you out further than you could even imagine possible. He was much larger than the dildo he’d gotten you, which was rather average in size despite you seemingly thinking it was pretty large. It hurt him to know that you thought that was big, what asshole lied to you about that?! He found himself angry at the thought of you fake moaning and clenching around some douchebag who knew you needed someone bigger, someone like him, someone who could stretch you out and keep everything insi- “Siri?”

Your soft voice pulled him from his thoughts, forcing him to realize he had been staring at you for at least a minute, “Sorry what?” Your giggle that escapes your lips as you grip his wrist sends his heart rate skyrocketing before you ask again if he was okay.

“Yeah I’m okay, you’re here so of course I am.” He sighed, watching you light up at his words, smiling brightly up to him before you were falling into a yawn. He couldn’t help but smile ridiculously wide at you, your were absolutely adorable in his eyes. He couldn’t fathom how you could be so unbelievably sexy while at the same time squeezing his heart with every little thing you do. “You’re tired, maybe you should get to bed after this glass.” Sirius stated as he gently tapped at the rim of your wine glass teasingly.

“Oh my Gods, remember when me and Lily would sneak into you guys’ dorm for sleepovers?!” You asked excitedly, feeling a little bubbly as you took another sip of your wine, “Maybe we could do something like that for old times sake, I’m sure Remus wouldn’t mind if you guys stayed the night, right Rem?”

“Of course, it’s your place too y’know? You’ve lived here for almost a year, you don’t need to run plans by me” Remus chuckled, barley turning to you as he sat nursing his one and only drink of the night, chatting with Marlene about one of the books he’d just gotten as a gift.

“I’ve been wondering by the way,” Siriys seemed to stall, as if contemplating if he should ask his question before ultimately deciding and continuing, “Why did you choose Remus to be your roommate? After you said you were moving out of your parents’ house I guess I kinda assumed you’d wanna move into my flat like you always used to say.” His eyes avoided yours, watching his fingertips tug at a thread on the couch beside your shoulder as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there,” You stuttered on your words as you tried to form an excuse, “I mean, you never offered so I guess I just thought it was one of those teenage fantasies we had like starting a bike shop that doubled as a tattoo parlor.” You laughed, trying to make light of his statement that you were sure you were reading too much into. Everyone dreams of living with their best friend but you always imagined it differently than he must have been.

While you were imagining romantic mornings and sensual evenings, you figured he was imagining help with the rent or chores, and maybe a few fun nights drinking before you’d both return to your separate bedrooms. Which couldn’t have been further from the truth. In reality, Sirius would imagine how you’d look when you’d wake up or go to bed, what you’d wear on a hot day, how you’d react if he’d come to your room at night and - Sirius shakes his thoughts from his head as he refocused on you, “I would have loved to have you if Moony hadn’t swooped in first.”

You chuckle nervously as you turn to the rest of the group downing the last of your wine before you spoke, “I think I’m gonna call it a night, I’ve had a few too many glasses of wine,” You exaggerate as you move toward your room, searching for an escape from your awkward, inappropriate feelings for your best friend. You quickly changed into your matching Christmas sleep set before falling into your bed, almost immediately slipping into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Only a few hours went by before you were awake again, it was only a little after one when you woke, finding it difficult to go back to bed so deciding instead to turn on your light in order to read a book in the hopes that you’d fall asleep again soon. Not long after you were abruptly interrupted by an urgent knock at your door, jumping from your bed to open it, half expecting Remus to be on the other side injured or in need of something.

“What are you doing here? It’s almost two in the morning.” You laughed in an attempt to suppress your nerves as Sirius leant himself against the frame of your door, his hooded eyes raking up your body, observing how your Christmas sleep shorts and matching tanktop moved as you stepped aside to let him in your bedroom. His cocky smile you loved so much was plastered across his face as he stilled in the center of your room, letting you shut the door before he eyed you and spoke in a deep, gravely voice you weren’t familiar with, “I saw your light was on when I left the bathroom, and I wanted to ask I wanted to ask if you liked your gift?”

Your face flushed as you stuttered over your words, chuckling awkwardly and avoiding his questioning eyes, “It was funny yeah.” You tried, though he didn’t seem pleased with that response, stepping closer to you and quickly invading your personal space while eyeing you hungrily, “Y’know if it’s not enough I could always….help.”

You couldn’t speak, you tried to force your brain to spill every single thought it ever had about the man in front of you but it just wouldn’t. You stood still, eyes darting between his and his lips as his breath frantically fanned across your face before you shoved yourself forward, slamming your lips into his. Sirius immediately melted into you, as though you were made to be slotted against each other, his hands dancing across your back as your lips melded with his. Your hands tangled themselves between his raven locks, tugging as he shoved you against the door behind you. He was gaining his confidence that you loved so much back, his hand trailing up your waist to the side of your neck to pull you in closer. “Fuck, please tell me I can fuck you, I can’t wait Baby any more. We can talk about my feelings for you after but please please let me.”

He sighed against your neck, silently begging you to say yes as he licked up and down your neck, occasionally nipping at the flesh teasingly. “Yes, fuck yes please.” Sirius immediately tugged at your thighs, lifting you up and helping you wrap your legs around his waist as he walked you both towards your bed. He lightly set you down, maintaining eye contact as he crawled toward you, eyeing you like you were his prey.

“Are you sure Baby? You can say no, I promise I won’t be upset.” Instead of answering you launched yourself forward, tugging him down to you and between your legs as you wrapped yourself around him. You bucked your hips up against him, egging him on as he hastily unfastened his belt, still leaving his lips on yours absolutely unable to disconnect from your touch. He aggressively tugged your shorts and underwear aside as he shoved his pants down, freeing himself to spring up against his abdomen.

You separated from his lips in a gasp as you watched him bounce up and down beside your thigh, “You- you’re really big.” He chuckled down to you, kissing your forehead softly before he spoke in a gentle voice you weren’t use to.

“Don’t worry Sweetheart, I’ll go slow.” He whispered as he slowly began to push himself inside of you, forcing a gasp from you as he stretched you out. You whined in pain and pleasure, screwing your eyes shut as he bottomed out inside of you with a groan and whispered moan of your name. After a minute to let you adjust to him, he pushed himself up holding his weight up by a hand beside you head, the other supporting your hip as he set a steady pace, slowly pushing in and out of you as your wetness coated him and began to slip past you onto your bed.

Your whines became moans as he sped up slightly inside of you, still slowly thrusting into you, pressing against your g-spot each time, “Look at me.” Sirius demanded as his thrusts sped up, snapping into you until your eyes fluttered opened, “Good girl.” His voice sent chills down your spine as he returned to his previous pace, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tip massaged your softest spot.

The agonizingly slow thrusts against your tight walls was driving him crazy, his balls tightening quickly as they hit softly against your perfectly sculpted ass, “It’s been a while Baby, I might cum soon…mmph fuck…can…can I fuck my cum into you please…please I want to come inside.” You whimpered at his words, clenching around him desperately as you begged him to.

“Yes Gods yes please, I want you to mark my body Sirius, no one else ever has.” He groaned down to you, leaning in to capture your lips in his, picking his pace up to a perfect middle ground as you both panted against the others mouth, riding the edge of both your highs as he trailed his hand down your torso to toy with your clit. Sirius stuttered inside you, feeling the wetness on his fingers as he quickly played with the swollen bud of nerves, desperately holding back his release to cum in synch with you.

Sirius drew figure eights with his fingertips, loving the gasps from your mouth as he praised you, “You sound so beautiful, do you wanna cum for me Princess? I can’t cum until you do. Don’t you want me to cum Baby?” His words matched with two hard, quick thrusts sent you over the edge with a squeal as you clenched around his cock, finally allowing him to release inside you, painting your walls with his thick cum as he moaned your name loudly, surely alerting your friends that were once sleeping in the living room. Sirius remained still inside of you, keeping his cum buried deep until it squeezed it’s way around his shaft and onto your sheets, mixing with the growing puddle of your arousal as you both tried to catch your breath.

~~~~

Event Taglist

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess @limeren @h-------n @kezibear @mattheoriddlemarcuslopez @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @curiousshifter101 @tobyr68 @spididerman @hedwigprewett12 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kiwi475 @stellasdelusions

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

Text

i'm not the only one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | You have your baby. You have your family. But can you really have everything you want? Can you really have your cake and eat it too?

Warnings | Fluff, mentions of breastfeeding, small children (in my world they need to come with a warning because ew), let's say it one more time for old times sake: TOMMY GETTING CUCKED BECAUSE HE LOVES IT, dirty talk, fingering (f) and allusions to other smut.

Word Count | 1.9k

Authors Note | Wow. I just wanted to take some time to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read and supported me through this little fic. What started as a filthy little one-shot has become something super special to me. I'm so proud with how this turned out and I really hope that you love this ending as much as I do. I need to say a massive thank you to the JFC - @cavillscurls @dinsdjrn @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers for continuously losing their mind over this fic with me and helping me come up with the ending where no-one gets their heart broken, I love you girls more than I can express 🧡 Thank you to each and every person who has read this, has given me their love, interacted with me and generally just made me the happiest girl for deciding to come back to fic writing. You're all awesome and I love each and every one of you. Please let me know what you thought of this, either by commenting, reblogging or sending me some love in my ask box, and if you'd like to support me with a donation, you can do so over on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The late September sun is still warm, even as it begins dipping below the horizon, painting the sky a beautiful mix of pink and orange. The beer in your bottle is lukewarm, but you finish it off anyway, attention dropping to your son, sat on your knee, as you bounce it up and down to keep him occupied at the table. He’s just turned two and is a much better table companion at Joel’s birthday cook-out than he had been last year. He’s starting to show a little personality, babbling along when Sarah tried to talk to him, teasing Tommy when he hands his son a toy, throwing it to the ground because he already knows he’ll pick it right back up and play along.

Everyone else has long gone by this point in the evening. This year’s celebration of Joel’s birthday being held at your house because he’s having his garden landscaped. It’s just the five of you, the people who matter most to you in life, sat around, finishing drinks and just enjoying each other’s company. Sarah yawns to your left, the day finally catching up with her.

“You tired, bug?” Joel asks, smoothing a hand over her hair.

“I’m not tired.” But she yawns again, chuckles erupting from the table.

You poke at her arm, “Your room is ready whenever you are.” It had already been agreed that Sarah and Joel would stay here tonight, so he could have a drink and enjoy his birthday without worrying about driving home.

To her credit, she lasts another hour sat at the table, but once Joshua starts fussing as well, it’s clear it’s time for everyone to call it a night. Joel kisses Sarah on the forehead, wishing her a goodnight as she heads inside. Tommy takes Joshua from your arms and presses a kiss to the top of your head, leaving you and Joel together for the first time that evening. You reach out your arm across the table, palm up to the darkening sky, Joel’s own, much larger hand, slipping into it.

“Shall we go?” You ask, the smile across your face mirroring his own.

“I think we should.”

As you’re walking through the neighbourhood your mind drags back to this time last year and the conversation with Tommy as Joel’s birthday loomed on the horizon.

“What do you think we should get him for his birthday?” Tommy asked, flipping through the catalogue of construction gear that comes through the letterbox every few months, “He was saying his toolbox is too small these days, maybe we can get him a bigger one?”

Joshua is cradled against your chest, suckling as you feed him. You’d always wondered how the other women you knew could multitask before he’d been born. One of your best friends could breastfeed her child, cook dinner and talk to her older daughter all at the same time. Now, standing in the kitchen feeding your son, two pans on the stovetop as you cook, holding a conversation with Tommy, you realise it just came naturally.

“I mean, we can,” You throw over your shoulder, “But I think that man deserves more than a toolbox for his birthday.”

Once Joshua has finished feeding, you hand him to Tommy, along with placing a rag over his shoulder – you fed him, Tommy gets to burp him, that’s the deal.

“I just feel bad,” You comment, going back to pushing the steak around the pan, “Do you not feel like you’ve kinda just abandoned him a little?”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, patting his son on the back.

You sigh, trying to focus on cooking as you speak, “I just mean that he did this for us, gave us this life we have now, and what are we going to do to thank him? Give him a toolbox? Just seems like we don’t care.”

“Well, what would you suggest?” He asks, you're quiet in response, trying to think of how best to put this, "You miss him, don't you?" He finally asks.

You turn around, leaning against the counter to the side of the stove, “I do miss him,” You say simply, not afraid to admit it, “You said before Joshua was born that you understood the connection we have, I just want to give him something good.”

Tommy has Joshua cradled in his arms now, trying to get him to go to sleep so he can lie him down and enjoy dinner with you in peace, "You wanna fuck him for his birthday?" There's a smirk on his lips, just like there was when you'd needed Joel before Joshua was born.

“Hey, language!” You chastise, pointing to his son in his arms, “Don’t say it like that either, you know you come first, you always have, I love you Tommy, but can’t we just give him one time, once a year, where I can really show him how grateful I am for what he gave us?”

You can see him mull it over in his mind as he bounces his son in his arms before he relents, “Okay,” He’s smiling, and it reaches his eyes, so you know he really means it, “If that’s what you want, I’m happy.”

You smile, walking over to kiss him, “I don’t deserve you,” You murmur against his lips, “I love you so very much, Tommy Miller.”

Joel thinks, as he walks hand in hand with you back to his home, that he really didn’t need this. He didn’t need thanking for what he’d done. He remembers walking into your hospital room with Sarah after Joshua had been born – she’d insisted on picking the biggest and brightest bouquet of flowers for you and had been so excited to finally meet her nephew. He’d pushed open the door for her that day and had been overcome with a strange sense of satisfaction.

You were propped up in bed, Joshua cradled in your arms, his tiny hand clutched around one of your fingers, Tommy stood, hand brushing your hair as he looked down at the both of you with pure adoration. He knew he’d given you everything in that moment, that he’d managed to make the two of you the happiest people ever, and that was enough. A fleeting moment in time between you and him, that had created the most beautiful baby boy he’d ever laid eyes on, he’d been happy to let it lie, to wait and see if you wanted more and came back to him down the line.

He hadn’t expected that on his birthday last year, you’d have cornered him and kissed him with such passion that he wasn’t sure he’d survive once he pulled away from you. Then you explained, one night a year, he could choose when, where you could show him how thankful you were to him. A night just to yourselves, without Tommy’s eyes trailing over you both. Secret and sacred between the two of you.

Once Joel has unlocked his front door and brought you inside, he wastes no time. He craves this, has spent the last year thinking of the moment he gets to fuse his lips with yours. It’s soft, as his mouth opens against yours, slow as your tongues meet, he doesn’t have to rush with you anymore, he gets you to himself for the whole night. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Hey.” You smile softly.

“Hey, pretty girl,” He’s smiling, palms resting at your hips, “You want me to take you upstairs?

You bite at your bottom lip and breathe out, “Yes.”

He leads you up the stairs, your hand clutched in his own, through the threshold of his bedroom. He settles himself on top of his sheets, head propped up on his pillows as he motions you to join him. You clamber onto the bed, crawling up his body on your hands and knees until you’re straddling his hips with your mouth back on his.

As you grind your hips down onto him, his hands coming to cup your ass under your dress, you can feel him growing hard for you. All you want is to strip him down and put your mouth on him, but it seems he has other ideas, and since this is all for him, you let him take the lead. He slips his hands under the waistband of your panties, warm hands on your flesh as he pulls them down as far as they’ll go in this position.

“Lie down for me, babygirl.” He whispers against your lips, you oblige, settling yourself down on your back as he pulls your underwear off fully, shucking the hem of your dress up to your hips.

He’s got one of his arms under your head, his lips at your ear as you spread your legs for him, letting his fingers slip through your folds to gather the slick that has slowly been gathering there all evening as you both watched each other, knowing what was coming.

“So wet for me, pretty girl,” He breathes into your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth to nibble as he slips two of his fingers into your tight pussy, “Been thinking about me?”

He drags those fingers from your core, up to your clit where he begins to play soft circles across it, it’s so gentle that your breath catches in your throat as you arch yourself into his hand, “Couldn’t stop,” You admit, turning your face to kiss his lips, “Thought about you all day.”

He dips his fingers back into your cunt as he kisses you, you can feel him smirk against your lips when you grind down to meet his fingers, “I’ve been thinking about you all year, hot mama, couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”

He brings his slick fingers back up to your swollen bundle of nerves, showering it with attention as you whimper for him, arching your back and bucking your hips, fingers gripping at his arm as he works you to the crest. You come for him, moaning into his mouth as he kisses you, his fingers making sure they work you for every ounce of your orgasm.

Joel has you more times than he can count that night. He brings you over the edge over and over again until you can do nothing but sob, beg for a reprieve but beg him not to stop. You let him put you in positions you didn’t know possible, his cock thick and heavy inside you, brushing that spot within you that makes you sing and scream for him. He fills you up with his cum, protected by the pill you take each morning, and then, when the sun is rising and the beginnings of the day break through his drawn curtains, you lie on his chest, fingers drawing patterns on his skin, slick with sweat. You’re both sore, both spent, and both happy, most importantly. You know that within the hour you’ll have to start the walk back to your own home and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Sarah will think her dad slept on your couch and you were in your rightful place, in bed next to Tommy, and that's how it will continue to be for another year, happy with the man you love, but safe in the knowledge that you still have this slice of heaven each year. The play will continue for another year – the doting uncle and niece, the happy family with their growing son, and you’ll be happy, because this is all you’ve ever needed.

“I love you.” Joel whispers, lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as he brushes the sweat slicked hair from your face, his eyes mapping every inch of you, claiming this scene as his own, committing it to memory so he has one thing he can think of, in the depths of his nights, when he feels the loneliest. To remind him that he’s not lonely at all, because even if he can only have you once a year, at least he can have you. He’s a simple man and he’s happy to take this one moment with you, until you decide you want more from him, if that’s ever the case.

“I love you too Joel.”

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impishjesters · 7 months

Note

If it’s not too much trouble, what about Caine or Jax (whoever you prefer!) with an s/o who is just. Tiny. Like, can-take-a-nap-inside-Jax’s-overalls-pocket small - like not even a foot tall!

Maybe they can change their size at will, maybe they’re just eternally itty bitty, your choice!

Thank you so much, and have a wonderful day/night!!

Caine

You’re so small that while Caine finds it adorable, it is also quite the pain when it comes to including you in activities, or just doing anything with him overall.

In the beginning, he’d offered to carry you when he was present, but because it’s Caine it’s not a very fun method of transportation. His whole head kinda makes sitting on it or his shoulders difficult or impossible. And being carried around like a doll isn’t very fun or comfortable—especially with Caine being the type who talks with his hands.

Jax once called you a mouse as an insult and Caine found the name to be cute and fitting—unaware that it was an insult—and took to calling you his little mouse.

It takes awhile but Caine offers to try making you bigger—though the two of you find out later on it’s not permanent. The upside is you can switch between little and big at the price of exhaustion.

He’s in utter awe the first time he gets to fully take you in, all the hard-to-make details finally pop, and wow you are cuter than he thought initially.

Caine likes to make it a fun little game for himself to play, which is essentially just hide and seek except you aren’t intentionally hiding. You aren’t even aware he’s really playing the one-sided game, he just likes to pop in randomly and see if he can find you. You are a slippery little thing able to bypass many of his all-seeing eyes.

When it comes to dates he prefers them with bigger you, not that he dislikes your smaller form but he realizes how impractical it would be to take you out and exhaust you on such a tiny walk when there’s so much more ground to cover. Or risk losing you—which he’s totally never done before by the way…

Being big means he can hold your hand, lead you around, and sit with you, he feels like you are equal this way, when you are tiny he feels like the bad guy with control over everything—even if it technically is.

Just for funsies, Caine has shrunk himself down to your side when it’s just the two of you, it’s a very trippy experience he’ll say that much. Everything really is massive holy heck.

Jax

Jax has without a doubt nearly stepped on you or kicked you too many times to count that he’s taken to shoving you in the pocket of his overalls for safekeeping.

Mind you it wasn’t intentional, you’re just so damn tiny and he’s definitely far from being the shortest in the circus. If anything he does feel genuinely bad, not only did you get the shit hand of being the size of a Barbie doll, but he’s not even the only person who’s nearly trampled you.

You’re basically a glorified purse dog in a sense, it’s easiest when he carries you around and does all the hard work and walking. You are his little purse dog s/o and he’s your glorified taxi driver, the two of you definitely joke about it though so there are no hard feelings.

Jax has found you more than once taking a cat nap when he checks inside his pocket, you’ve even got a little pillow and blanket—where the hell did you get those?

“I feel more like an apartment than a boyfriend.”

“Oo, free rent, great view, and a boyfriend. What a steal.”

You’ve experimented sitting on his shoulders and head before, Jax vetoed your rights to his head after you’d clung to his ear screaming—though to be fair there’s not much to hold on with him moving around. And after nearly wearing you like a necklace as you choked him out, the two of you settled that the pocket was best.

He just moves around too much sometimes for anything but the pocket to be safe, though when it’s just the two of you and things are chill he’ll give you necklace and earring rights again. (something he started calling you with the way you’d cling to him.)

Regardless of the appearance you’ve taken, Jax calls you a doll because well, you’re literally the size of one it’s self-explanatory. He even stopped calling Ragatha “doll face” to avoid any confusion when referring to you.

The whole permanent tiny thing gets on his nerves but he tries not to mention it, it sucks not being able to do stuff normally with you—or hold your hand or you—well in a manner that’s not his pocket. You get the gist.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax #tadc caine #caine x reader #caine

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togrowoldinv · 5 months

Text

Cheeseburgers

Brie Larson x Reader

When you accompany Brie to an award show, your feelings for her are revealed

Note: First Brie fic yay! This is a fluffy little something. I hope y’all enjoy!

Main Masterlist

When the door opens, your breath catches in your throat. Standing in front of you is the most beautiful woman in the world. You know for sure that you’re in love with her.

But she is only your best friend.

“So, what do you think?” Brie asks you. She steps closer to you and spins so you can get a full view of her outfit.

“You are so beautiful,” you tell her. She smiles so wide that her cheeks hurt.

“Thank you, y/n. I’m so glad you’re coming with me tonight.”

Her hair and makeup artists get to work on her again, and she ushers you to get dressed. It isn’t the first event Brie has taken you to, but it is definitely the most dressed-up you have gotten. You wear colors that match her perfectly.

Once you’re both ready to go, you ride in the car with her. Brie talks your head off about the evening that’s coming up. She tells you that she’s most excited about getting a cheeseburger afterward. That makes you chuckle.

“Are you ready?” Brie asks when the car stops.

“Oh, I thought I would be going in a different way,” you reply. She usually goes on the carpet without you.

“I want you to come with me. Please?”

You say yes. As if you could ever say no to her and that precious pouty face she makes when she wants something.

The red carpet is a bit overwhelming, but Brie keeps her hand in yours as long as she can. It feels so natural. You wonder if she feels it, too.

She does her photos and interviews flawlessly, as always. You watch on in awe. Once inside, you settle at your table. You make small talk with the other people. Brie is a natural at captivating everyone. She reunites with some old castmates.

When it comes time for her category, she reaches for your hand under the table.

“You’re going to win,” you whisper to her.

It’s not about the awards, but you know she secretly hopes she will win. When the camera pans to her, she offers a shy smile. The presenters open the envelope and call her name.

“Yes!” You cheer, being the first to stand up. Brie hugs you, and you kiss her cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

She shares a few more hugs on her way to the stage as the applause erupts all throughout the building.

“Thank you,” Brie says, taking the award into her hands. “Wow, I didn’t prepare a speech, but I will wing it.” She continues on to give an amazing speech, not to your surprise. She has always been a natural speaker.

“And thank you to my amazing friends and family. Especially my y/n. I wouldn’t be where I am without you,” she finishes.

The crowd cheers for her again. You can’t help but tear up at how proud of her you are. She takes photos backstage before she comes back to the table.

You greet her with a huge hug. Even bigger than the one before. She hugs you so tight that you can barely breathe.

“I’m so proud of you, Brie,” you tell her again.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice breaking a little.

“Are you alright?” You ask her.

She pulls away from the hug just enough to look you in the eye. You hold her face in your hands, and she sees the way you care for her in your eyes. You feel like the only two people in the room.

“Y/n,” Brie begins.

You interrupt her with a kiss to her lips. She kisses you back, her hand finding a way to the back of your neck to pull you closer. You’re both smiling so much that you have to stop kissing.

“I love you,” Brie says.

“I love you, Brie. I always have,” you reply.

Brie kisses you again before you two come back to reality. The commercial break is over, and you have to sit down. You hold her hand under the table for the rest of the night.

When the night is almost over, Brie gets her cheeseburger that she’s been waiting for.

“Still the best part of the night?” You ask her.

“No,” she says. Brie kisses your lips softly, but she lingers long enough that you want to chase after her for more. “That’s the best part.”

“I agree, sweetheart.”

“Come home with me?” She asks, a glint in her eye.

You take her hand and leave the awards show together. After parties are the last thing on your mind. You just want to spend the night with the most beautiful girl in the world.

She is finally yours.

#brie larson x reader #brie larson #Brie Larson fluff #friends to lovers #captain marvel #carol danvers x reader

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propertyofkirishima · 7 months

Text

Cookies and Milk

Kirishima x Chubby!Reader

a/n: this is quite possibly the sluttiest thing i’ve ever wrote. reader and kiri are in college. includes: daddy kink, size kink, manhandling, some descriptions of chubby reader, etc.

also i hate spell checking so i didn’t <3

did kirishima even realize what his snapchats did to you?

you crossed your legs, squeezing together as to relieve pressure down there. you put on a brave smile, looking up into your camera. the perfect angle of your boobs and your thighs.

kirishima was in the gym like always. every day, at 8 pm, he would hit the gym with his friend bakugou. you and bakugou weren’t that close, as kirishima was the only object of your affection. you didn’t care for any other men because of how obsessed you were with kiri.

wow kiri! have your muscles gotten bigger?

you giggled as you typed out your response, hitting send after you looked over the photo. it was perfect. you weren’t stupid. you knew kirishima wanted you. and he always watched your thighs and tits, whether he realized it or not. sometimes he would subconsciously squeeze your thigh. you knew he was obsessed too.

kirishima was out of breath, panting at the machine. he had just finished another set of his lift routine. opening his snapchat, he saw your notification. no one else mattered on there but you. in fact, everyone had been left on delivered for 20 hours.

kirishima chuckled as he read your text. he smiled, flexing for the camera. his biceps were absolutely massive, practically bulging out of his skin tight black shirt. oh, not to mention your favorite kiri hairstyle: the man bun with his red bangs sticking to his forehead. he was everything you wanted and more.

you impatiently waited for his text. he was so hot and you were too horny to not stare at pictures of him sweaty. you felt yourself getting wetter as you imagined him in all different ways.

ding!

finally, his text! you squealed with delight, flopping back on your bed.

kiri baby ❤️ maybe! gotta make sure i can lift at least 3 of you ;)

you giggled, twisting your hair. kirishima knew you were insecure of yourself, but always had the perfect thing to say. he could easily lift you. slam you. hold you up against the wall.

3 of me? how much are you lifting?!

kirishima instantly opened your message. after all, this was the break in his set. there was nothing more he wanted to do than come over. he wanted to show you how strong he was. he had been wanting to show you for months. he stared at the snapstreak of 105 days. it was enough time, right? you had to like him at this point!

kiri baby ❤️ not sure how much u weigh, but i’m lifting 600

600?! you blinked. holy fuck. it did make sense, as he had been training since he was young. kirishima is the most built man you know.

you quickly snapped a photo of your head back on the pillow, with your boobs nearly spilling out of your tank top.

600?!?! it would be easy to lift me o_O

kirishima opened your snap, then replayed it. he sighed, trying not to get hard in public. his brain was full of horny thoughts as he stared at your boobs. kirishima was craving you tonight, and he wasn’t sure why. normally he can suppress his urges, but this time he needs you. so bad. he needed to play it cool though. after all, you two were friends.

kiri baby ❤️ i know :) what are you up to tonight?

you began to reply quickly. you didn’t know how much longer his break was, and you wanted to see him badly. sometimes you guys would link up after he goes to the gym. you would study together or just grab a late night snack. kirishima always wanted to feed you because he loved taking care of you.

nothing much! got most of my shit done.

kirishima knew he was almost done with his workout. he sat up, and grabbed his water bottle.

“oi, kirishima! what are you doing?!” bakugou piped up

“sorry bro, y/n is really distracting me tonight!”

bakugou rolled his eyes. “yeah shitty hair! she distracts you every night! do you want her to start coming and watching you?!”

katsuki shook his head. “not cool, bakugou.”

“yeah, whatever! i know you guys are gonna hang out after. that’s why you were snapping her!”

kirishima rolled his eyes. bakugou wasn’t even worth the response right now. kiri snapped a quick picture of his feet and water bottle.

kiri baby ❤️ i’m gonna be done in an hour. wanna get a snack?

you giggled with delight. you loved seeing kirishima whenever you could.

of course i wanna get a snack ^_^ i’m so excited!

kirishima smiled at his phone. you were the cutest creature known to man.

kiri baby ❤️ okay beautiful! i’ll be at your dorm at 10

you set down your phone and immediately hopped off your bed. your roomie perked up, looking over at you.

“kirishima?” she asked

“yep!” you smiled. “need to get ready for him!”

she shook her head. “he doesn’t care what you look like. we’ve seen the way he stares at you, y/n”

“ohhh, but i love getting ready! it makes it more fun. kirishima needs to know how hot i am!”

you giggled, sitting at your vanity. you turned the bright white lights on and opened your makeup bag. you decided on a natural look, but still wanted to look glowy and flawless.

after your makeup, you put on a mini skirt and cropped sweatshirt with your college logo. a little to tease, but not too much skin showing. you quickly gathered essentials in your purse and threw on some thigh highs and sneakers.

“what do you think?!” you asked your roomie

“beautiful as always!” she replied

“yay!” you exclaimed

you opened your phone to see kiri had texted you that he was on his way. “gotta go!”

“stay safe!” she said

you slammed the door shut behind you and giggled. you loved seeing kiri. it was your favorite part of every week. you rushed down the stairs, panting and breathless by the time you got to the lobby.

opening the doors, you saw kirishima standing by the entrance. you smiled and waved as soon as he noticed you.

kirishima’s hair was still wet from his shower. but now he wore loose fitting gray sweatpants and a black tank top. his gym bag was with bakugou, who begrudgingly allowed him to leave it with him.

kirishima opened his arms for a hug, which you bounded into. you put your face near his heart and breathed in the clean smells. burying your head, you nudged him like a little dog.

“hi pretty girl. where are we going tonight?” he asked

you wrapped your arms around him, staring up into his eyes. kirishima was so perfect. “i dunno!”

kirishima chuckled. “cookies and then we can go back to my place?”

you finally let go, only to grab onto his arm. you were a little clingy, but he didn’t mind. he loved being your big protector.

“yay! let’s do it!”

kirishima loved your enthusiasm. he loved the size difference too. i mean after all, he was a big man. not only were his biceps the size of your face nearly, but he was also over 6’4. you were lucky to have caught his attention after years of him being your campus crush. when you’d see him, he’d smile at you, and you’d smile back.

it wasn’t until a party that the two of you met. you were a champion in beer pong. so much that a photo of you hangs in some frat on campus to signify who the champion of the year is. unfortunately, kirishima was paired against you. he lost to you and your unhinged roomie.

but he didn’t care. he loved watching you win. the way you jumped up and down and giggled. after the game was over, the two of you went outside to talk on a shitty couch. you couldn’t imagine the things that were done on it, so you tried not to think at all.

admittedly, you were tipsy. and so was kirishima.

“you’re cute.” he says

“thank you!” you replied back, too scared to admit he was your campus crush. “you aren’t so bad yourself…but you suck at beer pong!”

kirishima smiled at the memory. the two of you walked through the desolate campus, under the moonlit sky. there was no better way to spend his nights than by your side.

“how was the gym kiri?” you ask politely

“it was great. you know, we should work out sometime together!” he says

you raised your eyebrows. “i don’t lift, i do my pilates and treadmill workout. and plus your bakubro is a bakuasshole.”

kirishima laughed. “you’re so sassy, y/n!”

“yeah i am. always have been always will be.” you crossed your arms at him.

kirishima shook his head. “oh c’mon pretty girl. you know you wanna hold my arm.”

“yeah, i do.” you smiled, grabbing back onto him. “i like walking with you like this.”

the two of you arrived at the cookie place. they already knew exactly what you wanted. you and kirishima would always order the same box of cookies, as it was directly across from his dorm.

you rushed back into his room so you could eat the cookies while they were still hot. kirishima got out cups and milk from his mini fridge. you turned on the tv and got comfy below the blankets in his bed. as he turned around, kirishima only fell more in love with you.

his cute little girl, all bundled up. kirishima smiled and set down your drinks and cookies on the table beside his bed. he sat next to you, caressing your head and hair.

“i wish we could have a sleepover.” he admits

you smiled and leaned into his touch. “me too, kiri baby.”

you sat up and gestured for cookies. kiri smiled and opened the box and handed you your favorite. you leaned your head on his shoulder and turned up the tv.

you and kirishima mindlessly watched the tv and finished your cookies. once they were done, you stood up and cleared everything away. kirishima watched you bend over to put the milk back and saw your panties.

fuck.

he couldn’t turn away from it. they were just so adorable. silk and pink.

you turned around, putting your hand on your hip. “kiri, are you staring at me?”

“no!” he exclaimed, ashamed of his horny thoughts. “i wouldn’t do that!”

you giggled. “mhm.”

kirishima’s face burned hot. you got back into bed with him, cuddling into his side. he was hot to the touch. it nearly made you break out into a sweat.

“kiri, you’re so warm. you should take your shirt off.”

you giggled up at him as his face morphed into shock. he blinked down at you. “seriously?”

“yeah, duh!” you exclaimed.

you felt rather bold tonight. you climbed up on his lap and pulled at the ends of his shirt. “i wanna see. can you show me kiri?”

you pouted at him. kirishima was already hard. you could feel him against your thigh. you made sure not to sit directly on top of him.

“princess, you’re crazy.” he replied. “but i always give you what you want, don’t i?”

“that’s why i’m your princess, stupid.”

“you wanna help me take it off?” he asked

the two of you gazed into each others eyes. an uncontrollable cloud of lust shrouded you. your hands gripped the ends of his shirt. he watched as you pulled carefully and slowly.

what you revealed was the body of an olympian god. you nearly foamed at the mouth as you saw what he had to offer. his v-line was so prominent. and his little happy trail. you had never been so horny in your life.

“k-kiri…i can’t hold myself back anymore,” you whined. “you were so mean at the gym today.”

kiri pretended to pout at you and ran his thumb down your cheek. “you poor princess,”

you were so desperate for dick. your pussy clenched and unclenched around nothing. you needed something- anything.

“please don’t tease me anymore kiri, i really wanna feel you!” you whined

“well then pretty girl, you’re gonna need to leave those panties with me.” he said. “and take off that skirt.”

you swiftly got up from the bed and turned around to change. you bent over, giving him the perfect view of your ass. he watched as you dragged your panties down, exposing your pussy lips. kirishima audibly groaned, touching his dick through his pants.

his heart raced as you unbuttoned your skirt. it fell from your legs, opening a whole new world for kiri to see. your pretty, supple thighs. you held onto your panties, turning around to look at him.

“k-kiri, i feel embarrassed!” you whined. “i don’t really like showing anyone my body like this…”

kirishima smiled, grabbing your hips. he sat you back down where you were before. “you’re my princess. my perfect little princess. and i wouldn’t have you any other way. now hand me those panties.”

you held out your hand for him. he held them up to his nose, sniffing while his eyes rolled back. “mm fuck, gonna need to taste that.”

he put the panties on his bedside table. you had a feeling you wouldn’t be getting those back.

“kiri, that was so pervy of you!”

“god i know, but that’s just what you do to me, princess. i turn into a fucking weirdo for you. i’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

he inhaled deeply, gripping at your hips. you already stained his sweatpants. he could smell you in the air and feel your wetness seep through.

“like fuck, i need you to grind on me before i do something crazy.” he admitted. “i just get all these uncontrollable urges with you.”

you scooted up on his pants and to his dick. “i do too kiri. i think we just need to fuck it all out. i have the most nastiest thoughts of you humanly possible.”

you grinded against him. he grunted as he felt your pussy lips drag up and down.

“i’m so glad we are finally being honest, princess. i can’t control my feelings for you anymore. i fuckin love teasing you at the gym. i just love thinking about how horny you get baby.”

you whined in his ear as you found the perfect spot. kiri had his hands on your hips, guiding you back and forth. the two of you dry humped each other, and it was disgustingly amazing.

“no no kiri, you don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “when you send me pictures in the gym i get fucking sinful.”

kirishima chuckled. “yeah pretty princess? what do you think about?”

you cried out as he jerked into you. you pulled his sweatpants down so as to be able to grind on him directly. it felt so much better. the two of you moaned as you hit each others spots.

“fuck, what do i not think about?! you’re so big and strong kiri. i just need you to throw me around and fuck me until i can’t think.”

“why didn’t you just say so?”

kirishima flipped you over so that you were below him. he took off his sweatpants and pinned your arms on his headboard. you cried out as he gripped your wrists.

“like this princess? you wanna be treated like this?” he asked

you nodded your head quickly. “y-yes kiri!”

he dragged you up so that he could take your hoodie off. ripping the material from your skin, he had no mercy for you. he slammed you back down on the bed, so much so that it shook. you moaned, loving being manhandled.

“fuck princess, we coulda been doin this every night if you were just a little more honest with me.”

“god i really regret it kiri! you don’t know how bad i need this every week and every night.”

kirishima chuckled. he loved looking at your naked body, fully presented just for him. he ran his hands from your stomach to your thighs.

“need what, pretty girl?”

you wanted to scream. you grabbed his hands. “need something inside, kiri! please!”

oh fuck. you were so desperate. kiri thought it was adorable how you tried to assert dominance. it was so easy for him to overpower you. he was charmed by the way you held his wrists, thinking you could stop him.

“yeah baby? your poor fuckin thing. this pussy must be crying for me. need me to feel those wet insides, precious?”

you put your legs up so that they rested on his shoulders. kiri inhaled the strong scent of pussy, as it was much closer to his face. he looked down to see that his bed was covered in your juices.

“fuckin hell, princess. look what you did to my bed.”

but you didn’t want to look. you wanted kiri to finger you or shove his dick inside.

“i’m sorry kiri! i’m really sorry! i’ll help you clean up, i promise!”

kiri had so much control over you. his fingers crept up your thigh slowly. he began to touch your lips. you cried out. he was going so slow.

“i know you will, my perfect little princess. but you wanna do something else right now, don’t you? you need me inside you, right?”

you nearly screamed as he finally inserted one finger.

“daddy! daddy i need more!”

daddy? kirishima was gonna have a hard time controlling himself. “you like calling me daddy? fuck princess, you really are so dirty.”

he rammed his finger inside, up to your guts. you were screaming with just one. he couldn’t imagine more than three inside.

“yes daddy! i’m a dirty girl! please, please, i need another so bad!”

kirishima gave you what he want. he always did and always will. adding another finger, you only got wetter. he could hear your pussy as he went in and out. his whole hand was covered in it, and he could feel it drip down his arm.

“fuck princess, you’re so fuckin wet for daddy. listen to you, pathetic little girl. you hear how wet that pussy is? those little moans and whines? well shit, who are we kidding. you’re screaming on my fingers!”

your mouth was open, slack jawed. it felt so good. you could hardly focus on anything else. kirishima humiliated you in the sweetest way possible. he only made things worse.

“i’m sorry for being a messy girl daddy! i’m sorry i’m so loud!”

kirishima loved making you embarrassed. your cheeks were red, with little tears building up in your eyes. you opened your eyes, watching kirishima’s face of focus as he rammed into you.

“it’s okay perfect princess. you need to feel good, don’t you? i know how mean i was, teasing you like that in the gym.”

“so mean daddy!” tears broke free from your eyes. you were lost in this world of lust. there was nothing you could do but feel it out. you were completely gone. not thinking of future consequences nor the embarrassment of yourself.

“god it’s all worth it. all these months.” he sighed

you cried even more as he added another finger. he was splitting you open one by one. “i need more daddy! i need your cock, please! fingers aren’t enough!”

“no baby, they aren’t are they? you need daddy’s dick in that wet pussy, don’t you? don’t worry little one, i’ll fuckin ruin that pussy.“

kirishima finally took off his boxers. you gasped at the size. it was so big. you almost weren’t sure you’d be able to take it.

“please be gentle sir!”

“oh my precious princess, how sweet you cry.”

he slowly put his bulbous head inside. you moaned with delight, grabbing onto his arm. kirishima took that as a sign to keep pushing in. slowly, you were filled to the brim with his cock. you felt his tip poke your insides, moaning at the feeling.

“please daddy, please fuck me!”

kirishima nearly lost all control with the first stroke. in out in out. he tried to stay calm, but you only pushed back into him. you wanted it hard and fast, he could tell.

“not hard enough! need it sooo hard!!”

you were absolutely delirious. you closed your eyes and left your mouth open wide. kirishima watched saliva spill out as he fucked into you harder.

“yeah daddy! yeah! just like that!”

he gripped your legs, shoving his cock into your pussy. he abused your g-spot and made you scream.

“you’re only gonna want my cock coz of how good i fuck you. gonna be obsessed with me and need this cock.”

you nodded your head, focusing on how fast his pace was.

“gonna do that homework and sit on this cock. rock back and forth on those shit chairs and break em just for more of my dick.”

you giggled as he kept going. your tongue lolled out of your moth as you lost control of all senses. all you could think about was his cock. and he was right, you’d break a chair just for a good fuck.

“gonna be at the gym, sitting on this cock as i work out. riding up and down without a care of who sees. i’ll fuckin ruin all your gym clothes with cum and rip those leggings.”

“oh my god daddy!” you screamed, gripping his shoulders. he was so hot, imaging everything out loud.

“gonna be in the shower, with you still on my cock. bent over on the floor so i can fuck into your pussy.”

“yes daddy! i wanna get fucked everywhere sir!”

“gonna need it all the time, always clinging to me, right princess?”

kirishima loved that pathetic face. your makeup was absolutely ruined. tears and saliva went down your face, to your neck, then the bed. it was a mix of mascara, spit, pussy, and your adorable cries. your mouth was wide open, finally opening your eyes.

“yes daddy! i‘ll be like your personal fuck doll!”

kirishima chuckled. he smacked you on your ass. you screamed and pushed up into his cock again. you could only feel the slam of his dick, no other feelings but that.

“yeah you fuckin will, perfect princess. you’ll be a little toy for daddy, won’t ya?”

“uh huh! yes sir!” you agreed

you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. kirishima watched your face contort into ecstasy. he only felt himself get closer.

“daddy! i’m cumming!”

you rode your high, screaming as he finished inside. you couldn’t even care as you watched the cum drip down your thighs, leaking out onto the bed. he still kept himself inside, buried as much as possible.

kirishima collapsed on top of you, sweat sticking to both of your bodies. “fuck y/n! i’m so sorry for cumming inside- i didn’t even ask-“

“no, it’s okay. don’t even worry your big head about that.” you said softly

“you sure?” he replied

“mhm, you can stay inside pretty boy.”

kirishima laid his head on your boobs. he squished them closer to his mouth, kissing them. you giggled as he buried himself between your tits.

“my little baby.” you teased softly. “not so big and strong anymore, huh?”

kiri didn’t even care in the slightest. he loved squishy cuddles from you. “i love boobies.”

you absolutely giggled. “kiri! you’re a bad boy!”

kiri squished your tits so that they would touch each cheek. “mmmf…don’t care. you are my squishy girlfriend.”

“girlfriend, huh?” you beamed

kiri kissed your forehead. “of course princess. we just fucked like literal animals.”

the two of you giggled, slowing your breathing and relaxing. the movie from earlier was still playing, causing you to feel extra drowsy.

“kiri, i’m sleepy.” you said softly

“that’s okay baby, the RA owes me a favor. you close those pretty eyes.”

you smiled, still feeling his dick twitch inside. you knew tomorrow was gonna be just as good as the night. “okie kiri…”

kiri watched you drift to sleep, kissing you softly all around your face. he was so lucky to have someone as beautiful as you.

“goodnight precious girl.”

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #bnha eijiro kirishima #eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima smut #kirishima fluff #kirishima x y/n #kirishima x reader smut #kirishima x y/n smut #college kirishima #mha college au #bnha college au

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